Parable of the Eternal Home

-

Present
Present. A painting by the love of my dreams.

In your possession is a whole bag of gems, more beautiful than anything you ever knew. You want to put them in a place in your life that you would never forget, that will never be taken away.

Where do you put them?

The foundation of your eternal home.

An image of a person kneeling beside a pile of colorful gems, contemplating where to place them.

You mix concrete using all the pebbles, sand, and limestone you have on hand. You crush some shells that you had lying around, but had no other use for.

A picture of hands mixing different materials - pebbles, sand, limestone, and crushed shells - to create concrete.

You pour the foundation, and then press your gems into this wet creation. Safely embedded, locked in one place.

An image of a foundation being poured, with gems carefully pressed into the wet concrete.

Then you build the rest of your house, with whatever you want. Maybe it is time to fell some trees that are blocking the view of the sun over the sea, of the old port at the mouth of the river. Oh, there was also the lumber from other houses that toppled due to winds blowing across the sands.

A scene showing the construction of a house, with various materials being used, including lumber from fallen trees and other houses.

Soon, you have created a new abode.

A picture of the completed house, standing tall with a view of the sea in the background.

You put everything you have in this home. This all increases your attachment to the rooms, the walls, the doorways. Above all (well, below it all), you know the greatest treasure is always there, safely buried. Whenever you sleep, you know you are lying atop a pile of riches.

An image of someone lying in bed inside the house, with a subtle glow emanating from beneath the floor, indicating the presence of the buried treasure.

One day, you die. Your home is there. All that you put there will crumble, and will turn into ruins. It might be razed, if others cannot see its beauty.

A depiction of the house in ruins, with vegetation reclaiming the land and rubble scattered around.

Those who see the skill of the builder, the love of the creator, will look below the rubble for the root of the fruitful tree.

The foundation, once hard to penetrate, is easier to pierce with the new technologies of the future, of the world that was to come.

An illustration of future archaeologists or explorers using advanced technology to uncover the buried treasure beneath the ruins.

They find your gems, and they see the wisdom of building one's house and life above their buried treasure.

A scene showing people discovering the gems and realizing the wisdom of embedding treasures in the foundation of their homes.

They learn. They do the same.

An image of new houses being built with gems embedded in their foundations, inspired by the discovery of the buried treasure.

Adapted from my Twitter thread.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Epistemology 1999

-
Image
Experimented and created. Know this, you know who robs you of sight. Meaningless, said the Preacher. Meaningless. There once was an older girl, a younger woman, who saved me. On her good advice, I quit my job. I gave my notice at summer’s end, and Alain set me free from Génoise et Thé. “You can’t be kept, mon gars .” He patted my shoulder, and we shook hands, a parting between men. Waiting outside, Selene took off her sunglasses and dabbed her eyes. I cleaned my room, fussing over details she fixed sooner and better. The curator was a lovely guest, bringing gifts and Charlotte. We were in bright humor from the change in the season, the shift in the wind. I did well as a host, as a man. I shaved my face, brushed my teeth, wore my shirt, and owned my life. At the Old Port, we sat on a bench. She spoke, and I learned. I asked, she asked further. We leaned into mystery, and tackled the snake, fang and venom, as it was. The questions multiplied, as she said they would. Questions — at the ca...
Read more

Inaugural

-
Image
I have a problem where any tool that is not directly attached to my Google account is doomed to either be forgotten about, or depreciated in ways that I do not appreciate . (Punny as ever, even after a long hiatus from public longform writing.) I figured that I need to start putting my thoughts out there into the world, lest I become too insular with my journaling. So here I am. This will be written as off-the-cuff as possible, so that I can actually get this out there instead of second-guessing it. We are in the age of thinking sand, the dawn of genius silicon. This is a special time to be alive. Let us revel in our words, and think to the future that shall be ours. I have a thing where I like to alternate the styles of my paragraphs to see if there is a way to develop a new rhythm in all the thoughts that I produce. Someone reading this aloud might see how much my writing follows the pathways of an inner monologue. Indeed, I wrote this post in almost one shot without thinking too mu...
Read more

Symbolic Manipulation

-
Image
I encourage all my piano students to write. When I give this suggestion, many of them looked confused. (If their parent is in the room, I sometimes catch them checking the time.) It is already an oft-stated fact that writing is learning, so I will not convince you of that here if you have not encountered this idea. Those who do write, whether for others or for themselves, quickly see that it is the best way to audit your inner life. If I am writing in a steady rhythm, it all becomes a sort of musical verse that fits together in a strange and magical way that we cannot express in simple terms. Many young people, especially among the population of students whose parents send them to extracurriculars, lack a strong direction for what they want to do in the future. Often they are learning the piano to beef up their university applications, so are focused mainly on taking exams and joining festivals or competitions. The room for them to explore their own artistic interests (or to even know...
Read more