Peripheral Visions

   November has a kind of dreary feel to it which can also be enlivening as well. The trees form these inter-meshing networks of twigs which stretch out into the bare sky. And on a night like this, the sky is full of gray clouds. Is this a sign of death to the natural world, or is it only the starting point to new life?
   I am reflecting on the way that quite often, falls from grace or from previous security give way to peripheral visions. This kind of vision looks to the sides and  around, rather than only focusing on looking forward.  It is often scary to think this way, but people can often be forced into these positions, through no particular reason other than the causes and conditions that happen to be in their lives.
     In the course of reading about spiritual writing, I came across Haiku poetry as a tradition in which there is an attempt to communicate direct experience. One of the most famous poets, Kobayashi Issa (in Higginson & Harter, 1985), was apparently given a whole lot to deal with in his life: banishment from his hometown, an unhealthy relationship with his stepmother, and poverty well into his teens (p.16). But surprisingly, Issa does not rail against the injustices of his misfortune. Instead, he starts to use this particular situation to  develop a compassion toward the small creatures of the world, such as "grasshoppers, flies and bugs, sparrows, and other less-than-glamorous beings." (p.17). One of Issa's poems, whose English translation I would like to share here, reflects on how a katydid deals with the forces of nature in the best way that it can:

                            cool breeze...
                            with all his might
                             the katydid (p.19)

Issa's poetics are simple, sparse and meaningful in their own beautiful way. What they illustrate is the determination for all beings to live and survive against overwhelming elements, using all the resources they can at their disposal. What impresses me the most about this vision from Issa is the sense of unassuming fascination with other beings. It almost seems as though Issa is determined to find meaning in spite of some traumatic experience he may have had. He refuses to give up on that search for meaning, even if it shifts down to the smallest creatures.

I don't quite know how to convey this fascination with insects, but it seems that Higginson & Harter relate it to Issa's unfortunate situation. But, by presenting natural imagery, Issa also suggests that all life is fleeting and transient. Although many might feel that their lives are indomitable, there is no life that doesn't encounter change, impermanence and dissolution or loss at some point or another. Using the very  simple, natural image of the katydid, Issa's poem forces its readers to look sideways and into the smallest crevasses to learn what life is about. He seems to be saying, don't look into your own tragedy, but look outward into the beauty of other beings and their struggles. In that looking outward, one finds a mirror into one's own deepest inner meaning, which is beyond winning and losing.

References

Higginson, William J. & Harter, Penny (1985), The Haiku Handbook: How to Write, Share, and Teach Haiku. Toronto: McGraw Hill