
You are looking at a picture of people contemplating rocks in the Zen Garden at the Temple of the Peaceful Dragon (Ryon-ji) in Kyoto, Japan.
Storytellers look for stories in all the strange and familiar places. For example, an update on traveling to Kyoto, Japan, might yield wisdom more inspiring than the travelogue. That happened to me.
Pico Iyer writing for the NYTimes, "Now Is the Season for Japan," tells about Kyoto one year after the two-ton punch of an earthquake and tsunami. I am humbled by the grief:
"The 9.0 earthquake, tsunami and nuclear meltdown that hit the country on March 11, 2011, claimed almost 20,000 lives, overturned an economy that had already been foundering through 20 years of recession, and demoralized a citizenry dealing with one suicide every 17 minutes, a loss of direction, and what is now seven prime ministers in fewer than six years."
Likewise, I am humbled by a country's resilience that arises like a flower growing from a crack in a boulder. As storyteller and community activist Loren Niemi never tired of telling me: you know you have gained some sense of the world's story when you can hold two opposing notions in your mind at one time and not go crazy. This story shows us the way we might do so:
"In Mitsuyo Kakuta’s “Pieces,” perhaps the subtlest and most beautiful story in “March Was Made of Yarn,” an anthology of short fiction just published in memory of last year’s disasters, a woman in middle age looks back on her life after she learns that her husband had been with a young mistress at the time of the Great Tokyo Blackout.
“To acquire was not to be happy,” she had learned during Japan’s boom years, and now she sees that “loss was not the root of unhappiness.” As lights come back to her city, she reflects that the happy moments in her life cannot erase the losses she’s known; nor can those losses ever keep her from knowing happiness.
To hold those two ideas in your head as many in Japan do — to see that life means a joyful participation in a world of sorrows, and that suffering is not the same as unhappiness — is one of the singular blessings this seasoned country still has to offer." [Emphasis added.]
Indeed, "What you have is all you need."