One way Tibetan Buddhist monks meditate on the impermanence of all things is by creating coloured, patterned mandalas out of sand – astounding works of art requiring days – only to wipe them away.May 16, 2017
Now that I have left working for the man, I dream at night that I am 40.
I think I have years ahead to find my niche, create my magnum opus, then
I wake up
And a sad emptiness hits and fills my chest cavity
It’s over, my work life.
And then, the question for all overthinkers, and what did it mean?
All the typed articles, social media posts, proofed book copies, graded student papers, lesson plans on Economics, Money Management and Health, done, gone, finito!!
How to place it into a life narrative: what did my labor mean, why does it have to mean anything?
The only thought I can wrap my head around is mandala sand paintings. Described above and seen in the movie Samsara, these circular paintings are made by monks, and then they vanish.
Perhaps each day, was a sand painting, an offering, and while it existed, it brought some grain of knowledge, insight, love into the world.
Gone now, my official working days and their creations.
I wanted to be so much more
to be something great someday
I told Susan in the Iszard's tea room
at 13
and what have I been
but just me
a human in the hustle
trying to play the game
with a mouth loud enough for
the squelched powerless
and games manship
well enough
to make a living
and have some fun
and connection
there will be no buildings that memorialize me
no books that stand out in the collective consiousness
only a piece of land where Ram and I
stood
with our family and friends
for many many moons
until the good lords of the universe
call us home
and back to the cosmos
and star dust to which we belong
we awaken from the dead
and then we breath into the universe
the beauty and horror we behold
and if we are lucky
love surrounds us in our darkest hour
and I have been lucky
and for this incarnation
that is enough.
It takes a kind of Hope
that things will get better
that the Spring will come
that the body will heal
and the soul and the mind:
A kind of Hope
It takes a kind of Hope
a Hope that neither expects
nor seeks perfection.
a Hope that can see in
the cold cold winter
that Spring will come
that weeping may endure for a night
but JOY cometh in the morning (Psalm 30)
It takes a kind of Hope
to get to the JOY.
From seven years in history,
I learned
the complex life that is the Academy:
deadlines, papers, tech, and
the rewards:
researching, creating, developing:
sharing ideas.
From seven years in history,
I learned
that we are not exceptional.
We just think we are:
manifest from God on high to his “American” creatures
City on the Hill shines bright
Hollywood movies make it glimmer.
Fordlandia exposed
We did not listen
One million: largest per capita Covid death rate
in the world.
A nation's greatest strength, its greatest weakness.
From seven years in history,
I learned
that a letter signed by Nelson Rockefeller,
a coveted letter I knew someone had,
is like the war on drugs:
a creation to keep the power with the powerful
A book cover says a thousand words,
Goggle Getting Tough.
From seven years in history,
I learned
that biography happens in context
Grace Halsell
had notes on everything,
there would only be so much time to sift through
to paint a picture of her life
and while a Historian did this,
he said,
nearing 80, Grace started an autobiography,
then death took her.
We are all so time limited:
Tell your story now!
From seven years in History:
I got it, finally, the French Revolution!
the end of feudalsim,
the meaning behind the meaning: the birth of modernity;
the beginning of world capitalism;
greed unshackled;
the mechanization of life;
then the rebuttal:
from each according to his means to each according to his ability:
except humans are jealous, envyious, and sociopaths.
The 1619 Project,
Personally, I believe in you
40 years of work:
1982: lunch an hour of human connection;
2022: lunch a ten minute scarf with my effervescent blue friend.
What makes us human?
From seven-years at Cornell History
I learned
that as the crow flies,
Ten miles southeast from my bedroom window...
History is more than social science,
it is a story, and
it can be told as a story
accurate information and narratives
sail across time, as Humboldt sailed across the seas.
From seven-years in History
I learned
again, that people don't care what you know until they know you care.
Add some art
Add social media
Meet people where they are!
Invite them in
They will come!
to lectures, classes, articles, podcasts!
From seven years in History
I learned
that 3000 tweets
put a department of Sage
into the stream of life
no longer alone in books and students' minds
history is threading itself
into the tapestry of life
Now!
From seven years in History
I learned
that everything has a history and a context.
Charles Manson, you nut job, you have meaning,
historical meaning!
There is a history of love and
Acceptance is all.
Fabric can tell a story:
Who makes it, How?
The Bread Question?: Google it;-)
Science has a history, right here at Cornell
Cornell has a World War I history.
Women and men are rocking it in History!
From seven years in History
so much more to learn
How do women on the Threshold of liberty do it?
This book arrives Sunday.
Can we learn from these women?
What can I learn from them?
China and Asia, how little I know and how
much you have to show me.
May I one day go on a Haj with you in my mind
stopping off in Rome to visit Caesar’s homeland.
Man's search for meaning,
in the law;
in the transgressions of racism;
I can't get to you all.
I can't mention every thing I have learned:
The witches brew has not been created for that.
There is still work to do
In a world, lost in billions and billions of silica bits
We need history majors to guide us.
We need them in mass and we need them now!
In industries, in governement, create the position, spend the money.
Synergize the knowledge.
What’s in it for YOU?
Capitalize on History.
Don’t repeat it.
Write your own Informed action plan.
More work to do:
Cornell History, Claire Perez thanks you!
and we had no answers to our suffering lot, to the passage of my Aunt’s soul, to any of it
I put up with the pain, trundle on through for one reason, I said, there it is
I pointed to the glistening tree leaves dancing on their branches in the wind
“To see the beauty of that tree, in this moment of inner sadness“
And to think, he replied, all this beauty, pain, sadness, color is on a sphere that revolves around a nuclear reactor, the sun, once every 365 days while it itself rotates every 24 hours.
I Love You Radames R. Perez. This is a video of garden snapshots over the years. I tried to focus on the last two years. During this rainy summer, I think of all the earth has given us. And I ask myself, can we tend our earth with more love and care, can we save the 7 miles of atmosphere that makes all the beauty possible?
itsaboutthestory.wordpress.com 
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