Observations...

I don't get a whole lot of spam in my work email, either because the spam filters are working, my email is not widely "out there," or a combination of those factors. However, over the past couple of weeks, there has been an explosion of spam in my inbox, almost all of it offering to send letters or presents from Santa. Le sigh.

Another long day was spent yesterday driving to and from a doctor's office (and, of course, in the waiting room and in consultation), but in exchange, I've gained some clarity as regards to my immediate future, defined as the next 30 days or so. The adjectives "high-grade" and "aggressive," while still worthy of attention, seem not as formidable now as they did 24 hours ago.

The Emptiness of the Cup...

The story is told of a famous professor of philosophy who went to visit a Zen master to learn about Zen. But after a few minutes, instead of listening, the professor began to explain a few things about philosophy to the Zen master, who sat quietly sipping his tea while the professor held forth.

After a little while, the Zen master turned and took the teapot and refilled his cup. He then poured an equivalent amount of tea into the professor's cup, which had remained full because the professor had been busy talking.

"What are you doing?" asked the professor. "It's full! No more will go in!"

"This is you," the master replied, nodding at the cup. "How can I show you Zen unless you first empty your cup?"

I used to be a lot like that professor, and probably still behave that way from time to time, though I like to think it does not occur very often.

For me, the first big step in becoming less like that professor has been to realize that I hadn't been awarded a government contract to go around correcting people's thinking, so perhaps I should cut down on on all the "volunteer" work I'd been doing.

The second big step has been to realize that, by listening to what people were saying, I had a golden opportunity to compare and contrast what was being said with my current understanding of the world, and to make appropriate adjustments. In other words, I was not required to accept what was said; I was required to give what was said the benefit of the doubt.

I have a golden opportunity to watch "the rubber meet the road" on Thursday and Friday, as I attempt—with some as-yet unknown number of individuals—to gain some fluency in an artificial language called Toki Pona, during the course of an event being organized by Memrise.

Toki Pona is characterized by a very simple alphabet (a subset of the Latin character set), simple pronunciation, a "dictionary" of 120 words, and a grammar consisting of a dozen or so rules. It is my understanding that expressiveness in the language is hugely dependent on context.

By everything I have ever learned about language, this should not work.

I am determined to undertake this challenge with an empty cup, however.

Cheers...