Leaving my house this morning, I was blinded by the bright snow and felt the surprisingly warm air hug my body—I was experiencing the mythical Medford-spring.
The sound of a glistening stream
Besides melting snow.
I love the meaning of fueiki, which embodies “a lasting sentiment or aesthetic quality that can be discerned throughout time, no matter the era” (Inouye 76). The fact that there even is a word to describe that whole notion is amazing to me. I think the lexicon of a particular culture is very telling; it is indicative of the values, and ideologies of the culture, and the general discourse—I am not aware of a word in the English language that expresses the same idea. To reiterate Earl Miner’s “power of a place”, and that places “impart a spiritual power to the visitor… there is a spiritual presence to every location” (Inouye 78). Throughout Basho’s journey, he encounters places described by poets possessing mystical essences. Basho was able to tap into it, simply by having a sincere open heart, and being at that location. This open sincere heart, makato, is important—one has to let go of one’s intention or personal desire to truly learn. If the feeling doesn’t come naturally, you will not be one with it, and only be able to imitate. (Inouye 76) But when one does enter the essence of a particular location or object, he/she is able to realize that “that they are neither no more or no less created than anything else, and that their beauty is what teaches us that we, too, are like them” (Inouye 79) I think it is also so humbling to know that we are of same value, same essence of the world around us—and again can become borderless and one. For after empires crumble, and dictators fall “there remain only mountains and rivers, and on a ruined caste in spring only grasses thrive.” (Basho 118) Our accomplishments will one day be forgotten, for we aren’t that special, not any more than the moon, and sun and all that surrounds us at least.