Tao & Buddhist Poems

COMPASSION:

The sages have told that generosity is illuminating.

It erases the limits of yours and mine.

Erasing the limits of yours and mine,

opens the heart

to receive the Tao as one's self.

Everything belongs to the Tao

and is the Tao

from beginningless time until forever.

No one gives to another, it only appears to be so.

The one who receives is the one who gives.

Though there is no profit in offering,

How clean the ego-sense washes away

when one gives without being noticed.

WISDOM:

Genuine wisdom is functional.

To know is not enough.

If knowing the 'way' is all you have,

you have nothing.

Until you have woven wisdom into your daily life,

and step-by-step

you are able to access clear understanding

at the exact right moment,

well, you have only knowledge.

And that means you have nothing.

Knowledge applied is wisdom,

and that is the shining light of freedom.

Wisdom applied is insight,

is freedom reaching beyond understanding

what wisdom actually is.

Two Years Later

Talk about procrastination; haven't written here in two years. So what do I write about now? Do I even attempt to summarize the time between ages 19-21. Ahhhahahahaahhahahahahaahell no.
I'm back in Uganda. Take three. I've been thinking about death recently. When you ride a boda-boda (motorcycle taxi) around the third world... this is inevitable. Traffic in Kampala is ridiculous! Poor infrastructure + lack of traffic laws + boda-bodas = potential death everywhere. They whip and zip without a care. They swarm like flies, except more annoying because you know they have the capacity for reason and logical thinking. You hit them and they'll scream at you, especially if you are a muzungu ("white person" or "foreigner").

So why was I riding a boda-boda? Well I met David - aka "De Alien" - at a party a couple of weeks ago. We discussed many things. I learned he was a local Ugandan artist. A rapper who spits about the political situation he and his fellow citizens are forced to endure. A day later he calls me:

De Alien: Hello Bryan? Hi this is De Alien.
Bryan: Excuse me? De what? Who is this?
De Alien: De Alien, from tha partee.
Bryan: ... David?
David: Yes! How are you?
Bryan: Oh! I'm good man. Just chillin' what's up?
David: I want you to rap.
Bryan: Ahahahahahhahahahahahahahahhahahahahahaha.

So the following week I met David at the studio; a mental container with a lock located in the maze of Kampala's back roads. I couldn't help but doubt myself. What the fuck are you doing here Bryan? I had no idea where I was; I was tired & hungry; the lyrics I wrote only hours before were - obviously - terrible.

I met Cesar, David's friend and co-rapper, in the waiting lounge; a smaller metal container next to the studio. Both guys were incredibly passionate about singing. I respect both of them greatly; this is their dream and they're pursuing it despite the lack of facilities. They also made me understand how hard it is to pursue such a career here in Uganda.

We walk into the studio. Another group is finishing up. Three hours later they are still finishing up. A man, however, pops in the door and eyes the hunger-stricken muzungu. He asked me if I wanted samosas. A godsend, thank Horus! I bought six. Ate two and shared the rest. Cold and stale they were the best damn samosas I've ever eaten. Then the power went out and I was forced to ride a boda-boda home. As they say, T.I.A. (This Is Africa).

Bobbing on the back, angry at something I had absolutely no control over, I eased my grip. I realized if we got in an accident holding on wasn't gonna save me. So I sunk back into a deep contemplation. Fuck it, if I die I die - I'll just hope I don't. Death, afterall, lives in my shadow. Inseparable from myself, I could not have life now without death later. So on the last stretch of road home, I spread my arms and closed my eyes. I let all my anger fly away as the wind blew under my wings. I remember thinking:

I will fly 'till I die.

A Fall & A Swim

We woke up at 7:15 and made our way to the pick up point: Africana Hotel. We got picked up by the "Adrift" bus, a white water rafting company, and departed Kampala for Jinja - the source of the Nile. Yassin was our organizer.

Yassin: So once we get off the bus, you'll get suited up and from there form into groups of 8-9. Remember, you have two options: Mild or Wild... Don't be a sissy.

I glanced at Silvia grinning, we clearly had no intention of being "sissies." As Yassin hyped up the excitement and ferocity of the River - including how at one point you can potentially drop off a 10-foot waterfall, on a Class 5 river rapid - Silvia and I turned to each other. "No need to worry" I told her "we have nothing to fear but fear itself!"

I immediately regretted that.

Pulling into the Adrift camp site, I eyed the devilish structure coming into view: with wooden stairs leading up it, the crane like structure extended out over the cliff face toward the opposite bank. The Nile, at least 100 yards below, passed sleepily under the platform.

Silvia: Oh look, Bungee Jumping! That'd be so much fun, wanna see if we can do it?
Me: ... I don't know if we'll have time.
Silvia: Yeah, you're probably right. Shame though.

We got off the bus and wandered down to get briefed. We we're early. Silvia asked if we'd have time to jump. The [] represent my thoughts:

Coordinator: Shouldn't be a problem, let me see if you can cut to the front. [... wonderful]
(He radioed the man on the bridge.)
Coordinator: Yeah, be quick though.
Silvia: Bryan let's go! ["Please God No!"?]
Me: Um... I dunno if I have enough money [I did]
Silvia: That's okay, I'll pay for you! [Damn you Silvia!]

In the end, I could find no rational reason why I shouldn't jump. But even though my mind was still racing for a reason why to protest, there was one thought that rose above all the others: if I didn't do this, I would regret it for the rest of the day - which I had already payed $125 for.

Me: Let me get my money.

*****************************************************************************

A few minutes later the time had come to destroy the hypocrite. Sitting in a chair, I got my legs bound and secured and then I stood up. I hopped forward, staring directly at Silvia as the bridge extended behind her, and then turned left facing the jump point.

Jump Supervisor: Now, I want you to baby step to the edge and stop when your toes are over the edge. Then place your hands above you and hold onto the roof. When I say let now, drop your hands to your side. From there I'm going to count down from three. When I say jump, I want you to jump as far as you can toward that yellow arrow we've painted for you on top of the restaurant & bar.

Jump Supervisor: "Now"

It was a beautiful panorama. A perfectly sunny day with the Nile flowing causally beneath me and green extending to either side of her. I dropped my hands to my sides.

Jump Supervisor: 3

I tore my gaze away from the scene and looked at the stupid yellow arrow. What a dumb color I thought. I lowered my gaze to the crowd of people gathering to watch everyone who jumps... or chickens out. At least 40 pairs, I calculated. My mind was trying to tell me something when I was rudely interrupted.

Jump Supervisor: 2

My Mind: Bryan, you do realize that this will be the most illogical thing I've ever done for you?
Me: You already know I'm fully aware of that.

Jump Supervisor: 1

I looked down.
It was necessary.
I grasped how far I was allowing gravity to take me.
Everything was peaceful.
Calm.
Silent.
Then not so silent...

Jump Supervisor: Jump!

My mind played for me a recent memory: "no need to worry" I told her "we have nothing to fear but fear itself."

My legs bent, and I pushed off to dangle with fate.