Hard Challenges to Sleepy Mind

OR WHY DR KEN, ENERGY TREATMENT GURU, CHOOSES FAR ROAD FOR  TRUTH INSTEAD OF A NEAR ONE

Ken was a legend among us. Dr Ken. Or to be exact Dr Kenichi Kumakiri. Being Japanese and energy treatment guru made him a very special person for us from the very first meeting some ten years ago.

I was puzzled myself while answering to the question of a yang lad who in a workshop break asked me what is the point for Ken of coming to Lithuania and teaching his energy treatment methods a bunch of exotic massage enthusiasts? It doesn’t make him nor money, nor a flock of followers or any other evident tangible benefit. That question of commercially minded youngster was a riddle for me as well. Later on looking for some answer I found Ken’s sayings worth a thought from his book “Dynamics of Human Energy” like “Look for it far away”, “It is better to take the far road than the near one” and “There is no subjectivity or objectivity in nature”.

And here he lives himself up to his own philosophy. He travels to another side of the World and teaches people virtually for nothing how to be healthy, how to relieve pain and first of all how to think in order to stay healthy. His views might be at odds with the Western understanding of what is life and perversive glorification of machines and drugs at the expense of Nature, but for those who get deeper into his mind, it opens entirely new perspective. No matter what your age is.

He takes his voyages even as natural treatment himself. There among his enlisted kinds of treatment I found “Come to Another World Treatment”. And he keeps coming to us.

I was asked by Liuda, my niece and a professional energy treatment adept, to pick up Ken from Vilnius to Kaunas. We met on the outskirts of the city at an agreed gas station. Some lady took him to the place by car.

He shook my hand smiling. A greyish short cut hair and some stoutness gave me an impression of an ageing man. But there was something that prevented me to call him old despite his age of sixty four. Calmness, serenity and agility concealed somewhere with in his slow movements emanated around.

“Pardon us for being a little late,” said the lady. “Our guest was praying, so we couldn’t start earlier.”

Ken in his teaching advocated for plain open clothing, not wearing socks and shoes wherever it is possible. He used to walk barefoot himself. When entering the room and leaving shoes at a door he stayed barefoot. Never wearing socks. As these much prevent “fresh air flow to the body” and therefore are detrimental to good health.

We talked in a car about Apple computing, Japanese fascination with mobile phones that act like small banking equipment for all kinds of payments, licensing and purchases. With a modern mobile software deeply woven into Japanese social fabric you buy train tickets or pay for doughnuts and coffee in a bar. That’s why iPhones in Japan had to be adjusted installing that special software. He also happily noticed me driving Honda Civic, a car though almost twenty years old, but in good shape due to my son’s good care and devotion to auto-motion. Apple gadgets and Japan designed Honda apparently were the only two things that naturally drew his attention in grey aboriginal landscape swiftly passing away on a highway.

Thin light glasses were almost leaving no trace on his tanned face. Looking from my driver’s seat to his face profile I noticed a big flashy birth-mark on his upper lip. While talking most of the time he was faintly smiling. With eyes perhaps. His English had a strong Japanese accent. Short sentences much helped to make his mind clear. I think he hated idle talk as it “evaporates human energy”. Most of the time he rather kept silent.

Ken’s behaviour during his treatment workshops was extraordinary to say at least. He was stepping with his full weight, no less than some hundred kilograms, on a patient’s belly or repeatedly rhythmically punching with force patient’s back or any problematic body part. To newcomers of holistic medicine these methods were appalling. But according to Ken, unexpectedly, all this is good for health. An idea of hard versus soft as being good for our health both in nutrition, in everyday life and in treatment initially looks false. Because all this is about pain we feel when hit by or treated with any hard thing. We all hate pain. How it could be for good?

But when you get serious and take Ken’s ideas deeper into heart it facilitates to gain firm personal standpoint. It gradually teaches start thinking being aware of constant change. There is nothing absolutely stable in this world! And nevertheless there’s also a balance that helps us survive in a flow of changes. What shapes our state of mind and state of our health is our ability to balance.

When the workshop was over I saw Ken smoking outside the building.

“Why do you smoke? Isn’t it harmful?” I asked him straightforwardly.

“I need some fire energy to balance myself,” he answered with a serene unrepentant smile.

Master Ken

Treatment by standing on

Hard push

Technical to the point

Stranded body treatment

Treatment by just sitting on

Writing as Ego Inflation

Tattooed dancer

Just a few words. Because to write about that invincible drive to put letters on paper or just type into file may go on and on. There are plenty of words on the subject by renown classics already. And everyday there’s produced more and more. To write about writing is just another obsession. A pastime. With the Internet and blogging at hand the great illusion of our writer’s talent nourishing and flourishing is being magnified by thousand times. And we eagerly succumb to It.

I see many young people trying to learn “how to write” by correspondence on the Internet but they should understand that no such thing will force them to become real writers. The profies. No matter how many words they produce daily. Writers are born. Like JK Rowling, Harry Poter’s “mother”.

Why do so many want to become a writer? We will save years of our own life for decent and meaningful living if we start with a modest mind that “we are ordinary persons just like others”. Not very talented and not very dumb. As we can’t escape being ourselves anyway. Its not enough to dream ourselves into living. One way or another we have to live in real world, to cope with our actual problems. Hit the nails into coffins of our loved ones and cry when we punch our finger instead of the nail. It hurts.

Behind every move to become a writer I think there’s a wish to please our ego. And strangely It is tacitly supported by parents and families.

A friend of mine, a poet, told, he was invited to act as a commission member to pick up the best verses among hundreds at the national school children poetry contest. And he did It. Some children were praised for writing “good verses” or whatever they named that enterprise.

“You just started to ruin their lives from the very childhood”, – I put It as a joke to him, – “luring them into false ego importance trap they have no chances to avoid”.

Strangely that we do protect children from pornography, explicit violence, drugs, but such malicious falsities as pompous inflation of child’s ego with promises of future fame and celebrity status are treated as highly beneficial and benevolent adult behaviour. Nevertheless sustaining dreams of an average child to become a talented writer will inevitably ruin his life depriving him from taking up some less ambitious profession, say, accountancy or engineering.

The same is with adult unwise educational remarks about child’s “nice drawing”, “gracious dancing” or “divine singing”.

Does Darwinian “the fittest survives” theory should be applied to arts as well? But who is the fittest in art? Many really talented people are so vulnerable. Later in life they are simply overwhelmed by those “divine singers” and professionally internet boosted minuet writers. Such a tough world beyond writing.

Into Oblivion

Empty shelf

He gazed into a tumble of things and papers in the corner of a room. It was a stubborn still stand of a look just having no thought or a slightest image in his mind of anything else but this stuff before his unblinking eyes. It was neither a meditation nor an attempt to achieve any state of mind. A silent emptiness of a head. Some violent force kept him gazing and listening just to ticking gas burner equipment in the room next. It stopped and started automatically like distant and faint background music emerging like waves in late night silence. It was almost half past two. He was waiting for sleep to come and take his body into oblivion, into non-existence.

Brace for adventures

BENDING FOR DIRTY DIME

Think why do people bend down in a street and pick up dirty dimes? They delay a few seconds and the next event in their life comes right on time. The only thing we don’t know would it be a brick fallen from roof or some million dollar wining ticket. I do remember Japanese lady who came to Vilnius as a tourist in the spring of 1998. Winter was almost over but icicles there were yet hanging down from buildings on the main street. One big and mighty icicle had fallen down from the roof of the Ministry of Communications right on the ladies head. Her scull was broken and she was taken to emergency brain surgery but stayed alive as far as I recall this sad event. The only question is “Why?” Why travel tens of thousands miles to walk down that unfortunate street and get bumped by the piece of ice? How many dimes she had picked up before?

What awaits you behind the corner?

First never ask “Why?”, if you do not like true answers, inconvenient truths or just any answers that disturb your general understanding of the world. Better avoid this question at all and put “technical” questions I’d call them instead like “who, when, and how?” Especially after something happens to us and we ask the same question crucified Jesus shouted to his Father “Why me, God?” (“Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?” – “My God, my God, WHY have you forsaken me?”). Of course no doubt Jesus knew “why” but we don’t.

This dirty dime case we were discussing in the Antiquities shop in Pilies street. Then the owner of the shop suddenly remembered his own story. “Why do I had to drink this ugly muck in a bottle of beer?” he asked. It was a bottle he fairly accidentally picked up in a supermarket. Later he called free quality control number and they sent him a box of beer from the brewery to settle this unpleasant issue. “Why I had to?!” reiterated owner of the shop. It seemed there’s no comprehensible answer to this. But then I said: “Hey! They owed you a box of beer! You were destined to get it. This was the sense of drinking later on to violently vomit the filthy ugly being.” We all laughed.

When I told the antiquity shop owner story to my wife at home she said. “Do you know “why” we changed a flat twenty years ago?” I was curious to know the truth. “Because I hated to drink coffee with cockroaches,” she answered. Indeed. Our new soviet style block built apartment was infested with cockroaches. And this was for good. Now we live in the Old Town. Since then we enjoy calm, nice place, few neighbours and relatively happy everyday life.

When we sincerely ask ourselves WHY we should brace for adventures.

The Art of Drinking

The Last Shot of an Artist, a piece of art proudly displayed in Paupio street in Vilnius, Uzupis district, just in front of food and drinks shop

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We were sitting in a cafe in Pilies street (Vilnius, Lithuania) and talking cordially. Just remembering “good” old Soviet times and manners of totalitarian journalism both we were made to obey.

“By the way,” he said, “could we have a drink? On my account.”

“Unfortunately you are late at least five years,” I said. “But don’t get upset. In some thirty years I will be available for a drink.”

“You don’t drink at all, no matter what?” he asked.

“Of course, I’m not insane. If a squadron of soldiers would shoot me to death because of my absolute abstinence I will drink,” I said. “But after thirty five years of drinking I decided to keep balance and abstain for the next thirty five years. I think, I’ll make it.”

My decision to abstain and ultimately quit drinking after it had become a bad daily boozing habit was not easy. After hundreds of failed oaths “to quit drinking on Monday”, finally it proved to be a success. And one thing had a decisive impact on my mind. One sleepless night I was listening to a story on BBC “From Our Own Correspondent”. The journalist was reporting from Japan about aging people. His Japanese friend took the correspondent to remote place in the mountains to visit his mother. She was an old lady, 94 at that time, full of energy and life. Living alone in a wild she lived at peace and in harmony with nature sustaining herself growing vegetables, picking up herbs and making special herbal vines. She celebrated their arrival giving them to taste some of her many medicine drinks. Her life story was extraordinary. Being a heavy alcohol drinker at 48 she found herself before a personal dilemma: quit drinking and live or go on and die. At some moment she had made her choice, left her former life in town, moved to this remote place and started the new sober life there on her own. When I heard the story I was 45. And at 48 I made my choice to proceed with conscious and sober way of living. Fully understanding every moment of your time what’s going on is also a great virtue in Buddhism. The old lady was a Buddhist.

My friend at the table regretted the lost opportunity to have a drink. It was almost midday. But my decline from drinking he treated with respect. He started telling about his younger brother who, despite an age over 50 and family duties, became almost an alcoholic. Whenever they meet first words of his brother are “Lets have a bottle of vodka.” They even quarreled when he rebuked brother openly telling him of becoming an ordinary alcoholic. The brother took it as an insult.

I told to my table companion that the most common reason for indulging into alcohol is unrestrained, unconscious and unsatisfied hyper-intensive wish to communicate. Or because of other personality disorder. Usually low self-esteem that on the other hand causes a constant strive for center of attention among friends in a company or compels to seek additional attention from society. When you drink “just a little” you cope easier with the role. Another reason may be a totally suppressing sense of remorse for oneself and others. Then you go hide in a “morass of alcohol” hoping and fearing that no one will spot you and call to act responsibly as an adult man.

Next I told him, if a man wants to quit drinking, he has to make a strong resolute personal decision and find such activity or occupation that would allow to serve others, devote his life to other people but not himself.

Then he asked, “What was my personal recipe of success in quitting?”

Beyond doubt it was and still is mind control. Just taking your minds as something outside, meditating and letting them go away, perish into nowhere is very helpful. Because you can’t change even a bit of your karma by resolution alone, by making “a right” decision. A practice of meditation there must be involved. That’s why many fail with a no matter how sincere the hangover oath “to quit drinking on Monday.” Just practice non-drinking and sobriety. Open your eyes to the world and you will easily overcome your bad drunkard’s karma. At least for a while. But never stop striving.

“Strive on with diligence!” I said to my table companion instead of just saying “Good buy.”

He said, “What?” Or rather asked “Why?”

Of course he had no idea these were the last words of Buddha.

Karma and memory

Memory stains all over vomited after night

Impact of actions on material is universal. Things “do remember” what happened to them. Their bodies and material take and maintain all sequels caused by actions holding results as long as it takes depending on strength of karmic action. The best example is Big Bang. Expansion of the Universe is still going on… It’s a good argument for those who believe in science.

Then if you “lose” your memory, just forgetting all you knew before, does it mean that we get rid of our karma? Not at all. Because “stopping to remember” (or blowing brains by accident) is just another karmic action. Only meditation and nirvana can take you to another shore.

The visual world amounts to a huge memory stick! Such a dump of memories. A memory storehouse. And we wander round and round in that reality maze.

Why it is so unjust: almost everything what we want to happen quickly and immediately takes so boringly long.

Unsustainable people

My admiration to Mr. Supersustainable

Some people can’t live on their own. They need others to make sense of their own significance. They do not imagine living without some conflict or hopeful attachment to their relatives or friends.

Only this feeling of attachment gives sense to their life. It’s an escape of their horrible loneliness or being on their own.

Psychological endurance of an individual is a great character trait. It resembles the great and much adored movie heroes performed by Clint Eastwood or Arnie Schwarzenegger, Bruce Willis… not to speak about fabulous James Bond’s character. What a marvelous monsters these guys are!

Regrettably most of the people on the street are totally unsustainable as independent individuals. They need others to be near, to give mental support in particular. And not at all because they can’t earn their living. Many of them do sustain families and themselves. This is because of intellectual and spiritual void. In many cases they do not even suspect to have any deficiencies. They need society to act as some super-mentor telling them how to behave, what to think on almost every aspect of life. Personal over-communication and media indulgence of our daily lifestyle perfectly suits them.

Should we help them to get rid of that blindness? No and yes. I’m always cautious about any intrusion into other person’s life. Its their karma. Sharing their karma you have to share their blindness as well. But first to better understand them we need to have something in common. Think what it might be?

Did God learn from his own mistake

Happy Jumps

Recently listening to Lucy Kellaway talking on BBC World Service about mistakes I liked in particular her idea about banks who “once made a mistake giving loans to everyone who can’t pay them back and now they do not lend to anyone at all.” And again it is a mistake… Because doesn’t matter how big boss you are there is no insurance from stupidity and mistakes, or from overindulgence in pride being a successful businessmen.

Only God doesn’t make mistakes. There are two points to my mind important – frequency and overall number of our mistakes. Both things are bad if happens in scores.

Do we learn from our mistakes? Yes, but only vise ones. Stupid seam to repeat it again and again taking mistakes as business as usual. Probably they don’t learn.

It’s normal to make mistakes. Systemic mistakes in particular. Unfortunately God’s or Mother Nature’s will was not to permit people create perfect systems that ultimately may not be prone to some failure. No man can create any system that once would not fail. Be it some real enterprise or mere “unmistakable” logical way of thinking. There are always some hidden problems in any systemic creation initially we are not aware of. Take the recently infamous credit crunch or Microsoft Windows OS crashing in millions every second all over the world. Or make your own tests.

And probably Nature also “makes mistakes” but it doesn’t care. We humans are supposed to take it as harsh inescapable reality anyway.

It is said that when Albert Einstein finally arrived to Heaven God has asked him for a cup of coffee. In God’s room there was a blackboard all written down with complex formulas. Entering the room Einstein at a glance noticed the mistaken formula and was ready to show it.

“I know, I know! There’s a mistake, – said God smilingly with excuse, – It’s a man’s formula… “

Therefore if God already let us take care of our own perfection I think mistakes are for good. Life without mistakes would be a rather boring adventure.

So did God learn from his own mistake? No. He left it for us, humans.

Eating up to satiety

Fat Cat in Vilnius Pilies Street

OK, let’s brush aside for a moment statistics telling us that every second tens of malnourished children die in developing countries of hunger and diseases. Here’s all about welfare and plenty of civilization…

Nevertheless eating up to satiety is unnatural, unhealthy and even unethical. Hunger for each living creature in the universal food chain is biologically conditioned. Eating, looking and striving for food and nowadays serve to the merit of pushing forward evolution of entire human race. Hunger rules!

This primordial very personal feeling of hunger compels us to perform better, to move forward getting (i. e. earning) some edible goods and satisfy our needs. While satiety is just opposite. It causes sleepiness, inactivity, obesity and diseases as hunger does.

But that devil dwells in our mind. Is it enough not to feel hungry? Eat a little or just eat enough not to feel hungry at a time. And it’s it.

Many would rather think about plenty and variety of food, elaborate cuisine and fancy dishes causing satiety as a very basis for their personal human happiness.

Satiety as a malady of civilization should be treated as drug addiction. Only healthy food and moderate approach to eating when hungry can save us from extinction.

And now after reading the above you can make an informed choise: go open the fridge and eat up to satiety until fed up or sit down and start thinking about hunger.

Mulling the past

Public Light Cage

A middle-aged skinny man was dragging long stinky rope behind him walking on the main street of the town. No one deared to get closer and ask him what he was doing here. Because of the smell. It was real fresh shit. And the man kept on going in silence with that strange tail.

You may never have a mind about History but you can’t escape thinking about your own past. And there you’ll get into trap. The past always hides behind the present. There’s no actual manifestation of the past. You can’t touch it. What you see and feel is always only present. However many people make the same mistake: they think and talk about the past as though it is live somewhere between other things on a shelf.

A crippled man walking slowly in the street. He puts a lot of effort to move… In the past he was fit and strong but one day he perhaps had had an accident or had broken his leg falling from a church roof. And now you see him lame.

Whatever happens you can’t get back erase mistakes or revind events. Better, I’d say, embrace changes and swallow the past.

And what is so special about draging that stinky rope? Hold on a while. One thing is very special. You can’t push it. So be sure to drag it as long as you can!