Retro: The Human Factor

The Human Factor

My wife, somewhere in a nursing home in Waterloo, Illinois, has put on thirty pounds since she was admitted and has become a regular Florence Nightingale among the elderly residents of the joint! I am relieved. I miss her presence here, but where she is now is, I guess, a whole lot better than I can hope for—and in a way, I have made the right decision in sending her home to be with her mother. I was informed by a cousin of hers that she is cheerful and well-settled in the environment, but when carrying a conversation regarding her past, she slips off into her own world. We are far from her memory and drifting ever further from the sound of it. She was diagnosed with rapid dementia,

My two children here are back from their short school vacation spent on the East Coast with their friends, and from the look of things, I can say that my mind is less pressured by worries for their well-being. My son in the U.S. has sent me some money, most of which has gone into framing my works, and a friend in San Francisco sent me 100 U.S. dollars, which helps to keep me financially secure for the next few weeks. After that, I will be getting my paycheck, so financially, I am doing fine for now. Looks like the show will happen—with a lot of help from friends and family, both here and abroad. A friend in Japan also sent me 100 U.S. dollars when she found out that I needed some assistance. So all in all, I am fortunate and blessed to have people who more than care about my well-being and that of my family. The success of my show is dedicated to them.

My show is dedicated to my one-time friends Josh and Shrsten, who used to live on Haight and Ashbury in a tiny basement apartment. Sometime in 1985–86, I was allowed to sleep on their even tinier kitchen floor, half-stuck under their kitchen table, because I was homeless. The show is for Will Harris, who allowed me to work at H&H Ship Services as a sweeper and later as a tank cutter and yard superintendent—out of trust and understanding. They changed my life. They gave me the breaks I needed, and the rest—I made things happen.

I am thankful for my friends at Green Gulch Farm and Zen Center, where I spent two years of my life recovering from an illness and later becoming an avid Zen student. I am thankful for the friendship and kind understanding afforded to me by all the ladies in my relationships before I married for the second time. They were my great teachers in life, in love, and in what it takes to be needed and to need. What it is that makes a man a man—loved and hated by those who shared their lives with me. I raise my hands in a humble Gassho! to them all, and for better or worse, I was their student, as they were mine. The short times we shared, albeit in happiness or in bitterness, were part and parcel of the path our lot had to offer. I hope that we are all much richer and wiser from what we had experienced and have eclectically picked out the best lessons we learned, and have moved on toward greater achievements.

We live a borrowed life where nothing is permanent, and everything—save our souls—is transient. When our time is up, we are gone, and nothing that we do or don’t do really matters. It is while we are alive that we strive to do our best, to be of use to life, to the world around us, and to the people whose lives we have touched. Otherwise, our lives are as meaningless as occupying space and consuming air with nothing to justify it. To be able to give and receive, to share and care selflessly, is something we humans have almost forgotten in this material life of ours. The Buddha said that giving and receiving are of great virtues, especially when there is no giver or receiver to be acknowledged.

I have asked around for my friends’ help, against all my principles and especially my pride—and for this reason in itself, I have asked that I may forget my pride and accept the help others can offer me. I am very happy and fortunate that there are those in my life who are willing to come forward and give me their help and support most graciously, as there are those who would judge me for my weaknesses most unforgivingly. This is life. This is what the human factor in life is all about—for us to overcome our age-old sicknesses of greed, hate, and delusion.