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The Holy City Stands, Lights Darkened.

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Juxtaposition; a commonly used empty calorie academic word meaning little more than placing one construct or object next to another to allow a conspicuously brief moment of comparison or contrast. Imagine the Louvre museum, draped in all its sixteenth century Baroque and Gothic architecture built by noble Europeans. Now imagine it with a colossal ultramodern glass pyramid doorway built by a Chinaman placed directly in front of THE picturesque location of the museum. That is juxtaposition. A disturbance of the sacred and untouchable – old standing with new – good with bad – to create an imbalance so demanding each piece is acknowledged more than it would have been in solitude. Needless to say, this imbalance, no matter the virtues, pissed more than a few people off.

Last Tuesday, Kari and I walked into Mercy’s NeuroScience Institute that boasts its own “gigantic and ruinous” glass pyramid entrée. Our juxtaposition had nothing to do with architecture and all to do with well-being and a DVD we held in our hands of Kari’s brain. Waiting for the doctor was agonizing, but it allowed for fears to be vocalized, tears to be shed, emotions to be worn, expectations to be lost, and commitments to be reaffirmed. The doctor dimmed the lights and projected axial T2-weighted images of Kari’s brain on the screen to show us what we feared – white lesions – a telltale sign of multiple sclerosis (MS).

After the words “multiple sclerosis” were uttered, only ringing and silence could be heard, despite the doctor’s continuing diagnosis. Images of our own were being projected of loss, pain, and the unknown. Treatment options were being given to Kari and the white flash of the MS bomb hadn’t even dimmed, but it had ignited a wave of fury in me. Why Kari? Of all people? Of us? The one that spreads joy, happiness, and goodwill to her fellow man gets shit on? Why not me? I am the mean one! I am the one that deserves loss and pain. Not her! Not her! I lamented a bad decision by God in that moment and let God know it. Fuck! You want my heart? Here it is! Come and get it dick! Silence.

A week has passed and my prayer hasn’t changed. Kari, of course, is continuing to light the world up with her spirit, hope, and deeds. She is such a beautiful human being made in the image of God. Juxtaposed next to her has been my greatest joy in this life.

Up where the narrow bodies lie, suffused in sundown,

The children of God are stretched out

under the mountain,

Halfway up which the holy city stands, lights darkened.

Above the city, the nimbus of nowhere nods and retracts.
How is it that everyone seems to want

either one or the other?

Down here the birds leap like little chipmunks out of the long grasses.

Wind piddles about, and “God knows” is the difficult answer.
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たましい

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“A bowl of ramen is a self-contained universe with life from the sea, the mountains, and the earth. All existing in perfect harmony. Harmony is essential. What holds it all together is the broth. The broth gives life to the ramen.”

“Each bowl of ramen that you prepare is a gift to your customer. The food that you serve your customers becomes part of them. It contains your spirit. That’s why your ramen must be an expression of pure love; a gift from your heart.”

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Hugs or Gloves

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Manners, please. I remind Amaiya and Stone everyday to use manners. Please, thank you, and you’re welcome. Positively important, right? Not so much?

I recently read an article on how politeness strategies adapt as cultural needs change…or do they?

“There are a variety of theories about politeness, but one of the most well-known is that of the linguistic anthropologists Penelope Brown and Stephen Levinson, who have posited the notions of “negative politeness” and “positive politeness.”

Negative politeness involves such distancing behavior as not encroaching on others by showing deference, hedging and so on. Positive politeness encompasses approachable conduct that makes the other person feel accepted and appreciated, like complimenting, joking and making offers.”

Living in Oklahoma, an extreme positive politeness region, after living in Japan, a notorious negative politeness region, has led to some interesting situations. Of course, you salt and pepper in the other regions I briefly called home, and a clear-as-mud picture begins to emerge concerning how I expect others to treat me and how I am expected to treat others. I don’t know when and how to approach, nor when and how to tell others not to encroach…makes hugging a real bitch!

The article continues,

[There is a] “hidden thirst” for positive politeness, suggesting that the great popularity of Tokyo Disneyland owes much to the warmly welcoming behavior of Mickey and the other characters, who transcend social norms of interaction. Visitors relish the non-verbal positive politeness, which, because it is not spoken, averts the “tragedy” of Japanese spoken communication–namely, that there is no linguistic distinction between closeness and rudeness. Speaking in an intimate way involves speaking informally, but speaking informally is also what is done when one intends to be rude, alas.”

The author concludes noting that while Mickey Mouse indeed hugs and is approachable, he still still wears gloves – a throwback to a better time when white gloves were worn on formal occasions – oh, how I miss those times!

So which is it, hugs or gloves? Let me be the first to say that my children should not learn this set of social skills, whose sole purpose is to establish all parties feeling affirmed in a situation, from me. Kari is well suited for this!

If you must know, I prefer gloves!