Our (optional) prompt for the day asks you to engage in another kind of cross-cultural exercise, as it is inspired by the work of Sei Shonagon, a Japanese writer who lived more than 1000 years ago. She wrote a journal that came to be known as The Pillow Book. In it she recorded daily observations, court gossip, poems, aphorisms, and musings, including lists with titles like “Things That Have Lost Their Power,” “Adorable Things,” and “Things That Make Your Heart Beat Faster.” Today, I’d like to challenge you to write your own Sei Shonagon-style list of “things.” What things? Well, that’s for you to decide!
Neighborhood Streets and Things I See
Scanning the world around me
The Ugly Beautiful Things
People
Places
Situations
On a side street somewhere in between the hustle and bustle of city boulevards, An old woman, broom in hand, argues heatedly with a young man. Indistinct words exchanged publicly on this little side street for me to see.
Early one Monday morning on the way to work I rode my bicycle for the better part of a mile. On my usual route, there's a hill I don't like to ride up. The hill makes me tired, bones and muscles ache. Sometimes I think it best to surrender to the land and walk this stretch of earth.
Early one Monday morning on the way to work I made a left turn on to Pierce, I made a left turn on to the same street I always do riding my bike on the way to work.
Early this Monday morning as I made a left turn on to Pierce I noticed a dog running behind me as I pedaled toward the hill I thought better to walk up. I pedaled faster, dog ran faster. Approaching Glen Oaks I was made aware of several other dogs who had joined in on chasing me as I pedaled faster getting closer to the hill, the hill I thought better to walk up.
Dogs barking.
Pedaling.
Faster.
Faster.
Harder.
Chasing me.
Barking and growling,
this started to feel like an attack, not a friendly game between man's best friend and my bicycle and me.
Growing scared.
Frightened.
Confused.
The streets were bare, cars passing occasionally, nobody walking or riding a bicycle like me.
All alone with canine creatures chasing behind me. Barking, growling, running fast enough to catch up to me.
Hill approaching, I felt forced to push and pedal, fighting against gravity.
Tired bones, muscles aching. One dog had grown into many. I feared I would be bitten early on a Monday morning on my way to work by a pack of neighborhood dogs who no longer or never even have seemed friendly.
Make it up the Hill Bailey. Make it up the hill and reach the top where the land becomes flat again and the scary barking, growling, snarling dogs will lose their gain on me and I can once again ride my bicycle to work freely, enjoying the early Monday morning breeze like never before because now I would have survived the most unusual and unexpected attack on an early Monday morning, riding my bicycle on my way to work.
Written to the sounds of John Coltrane and his My Favorite Things
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