Beyond Duality

The tension that rose from those massive protests has not really died down. On a weekday like this, only half or so of the businesses are actually open. And even so, business is really slow. Currency circulation has plummeted. It's mid-morning. Not much to do today. And like some, I opted not to open the shop today. The plan is simply walking around, trying to assess the situation, and making conversation. One fellow in particular intrigued me. I never really understood his play.

You see, when you've been in the game for a while, you understand what people are playing for. And he is one of those guys whose endgame I could never really pinpoint. I'm sure he's open. He's always open. From my place of business, I could see his shop on the opposite side of the road, several stalls away.

As I take the last turn into our street, I can see three kids playing.? Two are probably age mates, around six years old, and the other is way younger than them. They are seated on a cardboard box on top of the drainage cover on the side of the road. Some water flows into the drainage, and they are pretending to be on a boat. They are jovial and energetic; singing an all-too-familiar song.

“Row, row, row your boat, row, row, row your boat. Gently down the stream, gently down the stream. Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, life is but a dream.”

As they rock back and forth, you can hear their joy and excitement. Ah, it warms my heart.

I can finally see the odd fella’s shop. It's open, of course. I approach and we exchange pleasantries. He's also excited to see someone he can chat with. These are strange times, one can stay for long without seeing any customer or someone to chat with. He offers me a seat. He is seated on the other side of the counter. I sit on the side of the door to ensure I don't block his view of the street. On the other side is an all too familiar piece of art, if I could call it that. It's unique, and people identify it with his place of business. It is strategically placed so that it can get some sunlight. It is placed on a rotating base.

It's a tree, a bonsai tree. Well taken care of, beautiful to the sight, and a good conversation starter.

“I can see you decided to open today…your bonsai can’t miss a day of sunlight? What type of tree is it really?” I inquire.

“Hmm..”, he pauses, taking a good look at that piece of art. He takes his time, as though it is the first time he's actually observing it. “You know, many people think that I love this tree. That's why I take such good care of it,” he begins.

“But just like a wild animal, you cannot love it and cage it. This was once a very treasured species of tree. People even associated it with the divine. They called it the Mugumo. It would grow into a huge tree, unshakable, they thought. They even said when you kick a Mugumo, it is your buttocks that shake. Look at it now, like a flower in a pot, with tiny leaves. I often think about how a tree grows upwards and downwards. Although we can only see what is above ground, if you are able to limit the downward growth, it affects the upward growth. When you limit growth in an area that is unseen, it affects growth in what can be seen.”

“Fascinating,” I replied.

“Do you get me though?” he asks.

“I think so. Limit the roots’ growth into the darkness and you affect and control the growth of the branches into the light.”

“And the same is true in so many aspects of our lives. When we are limited in growth, when our roots cannot go deep into the unseen, what is seen gets limited. So why do you think we do that?”

?I paused for a minute.

“Of course… control. You wouldn't want the tree to grow out of proportion in your place of work.” “ Yes, yes,” he laughs. “That's it, that's it, control. We are control freaks. We want to control everything. We want to control nature. I’ve thought about liberating this tree for some time now. Break this pot and take it into a forest and let it grow into the monster, the beautiful monster, that it is. But I like it. And I like that others associate it with me. And I see how others admire it.”

“So the roots are more important… the power of the unseen?”

He shakes his head slowly. “Nope. We tend to think of things in terms of opposites or duality, light and darkness, victory and defeat. You have to go beyond that. As Sun Tzu stated ‘Know thy self and Know thy enemy, if you only know one you’ve gone but halfway’. Victory over the concept of victory and defeat. They are but two sides of the same coin. Life is whole.”

“It takes darkness to appreciate light, sadness to appreciate joy.” I add.

“The day doesn’t break because you are ready for the light you know,”? he says matter-of-factly.

Hmm. That statement sends me to the depths of my mind.

I decided to switch up the conversation.

“You are one individual I can't seem to figure out.? Why do you play this game? What's your incentive?”

“Aaah, haha. The thing about the game is that it really isn't easy to get out. The hardest part is figuring out how to play on the sidelines. If you don't play, the game finds a way to play you. My turn. Do you believe?”

“Believe in what?”

“In anything?”

“Of course. How can one live without believing in something?” I wonder at this line of questioning.

“Well, do you think you choose what you believe in? Or did your beliefs choose you?”

“Hmmm ... .I don't know. I think I didn't preemptively choose what I believe in. But it's a choice nonetheless.

“ Really?” he asks as a stray dog passes by the street.

?“If I gave you all the wealth in the world to believe that that dog is actually a rat, would you be able to do that?”

“I don't know. I don't think that is possible…”

“Give you all the evidence and put it in front of you again and again and again. Do you think you’d believe... because at that point you want the incentive that I'm offering…?

“No, I don't think I can. I'd say I believe, but I don't think I can believe.”

“So you don't think it's a choice?” He probes further.

“I guess it really isn't a choice what one believes in.”

“But you believe in free will, right?”

“Yeah.”

“That an individual is free to choose the choices they make, the decisions they make.”? “I definitely see where this is going. It's not really one hundred percent a choice, is it?”

Staring intently at his tree, he says, “The environment matters. And plenty of illnesses can be treated by simply changing the patients or the victims' environment. I guess the same goes to the diseases of the mind like decision-making. Considering plenty is leveraged upon our ability to decide, to choose this from that, our decision-making is highly compounded. And at the same time, one wrong decision can have the whole house of cards tumbling to the ground. It is at the end of the day, the wild card that really matters. So back to your earlier inquiry, it's not just a matter of playing the game, but being able to choose how we live. It is not just a game to some of us, but a way of life that ought to be cherished and preserved.”

Suddenly there's a bit of a scuffle, commotion on the street. It's two young men and a lady. She keeps on hurling insults. It's only when they get closer that we get to overhear. She's cursing out Kobi.

“Why would anyone say such vile things about Kobi?” For a moment, I consider getting up and confronting them but the old fella signals me to stay put.

“Let her be,” he says.? “Let her grieve.”

Till this point I realized I hadn't really thought much of Kobi. I try to hide it, but the emotions I? had locked down for some time now were starting to surface.

I decide to excuse myself, but before I go he tells me someone has been looking for me. Someone he hasn't seen around before. As I walk away, my mind goes back to Kobi and I feel tears welling up in my eyes. I try to distract myself.

“Who could be looking for me, I think? Ah, I'll figure it out later on.”

I start humming a song.

“Row, row, row your boat, row, row, row your boat, Gentle down the stream, gentle down the stream, Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily. Life is but a dream.”

Oh, how that song, that childish song, sums this existence we call life so well. Life is but a dream, and one day you snap and wake up. It's over. And only the ones who are left behind are left with the burden. The? burden of having known you. The? burden of a light lost from their lives.

But perhaps, like a seed, we all need some darkness to grow.