After Watching I AM. Shimon Peres

He was so wise and humorous. Fortunately to watch this documentary, well done. So many words, hard to compose, but every time hearing Mr. Shimon Peres, there are inspirations and continuous life spirit. It will probably continue.

This documentary is successful to tell us, each one of us came to this world with a mission. A mission could be large as a statesman serving his country, a mission could also be as trivia as finding the simplest happiness while sitting under a tree alongside with a wild flower.

Nowadays, people with the smallest ego could brag their ambitions as shallow as they just want to be famous and remembered by, without knowing that life is and will always be a myth, not all the smallest achievement in people’s lives could be interpreted as a potential to change the world. No! Start to reflect on oneself, start to experience and be objective.

From the beginning, and maybe even mid-way of the life, we may still not know what is the mission of our life, but gradually we will. We could walk with the mission until the end, or could choose not to notice and get by. Once I was told, she believes that everyone comes to this world in order to learn lessons. Simple. Just to learn lessons. But how passive it is! How defensive it is. Perhaps in life, there are more things we could encounter rather than lessons, apparently, we could sense, feel, see, appreciate and live!

There is mission, then, there will be sacrifice. People hardly have both. The documentary also reveals Peres and his wife Sonia’s private life. Sonia decided not to accompany him to live in the President Residence as well as been buried separately. Surely, Peres certainly confirmed love and faith, but also, more importantly, there is the free choice. As a free person, people choose over their own free wills. How fantastic!

The documentary also reveals political events from certain point of view, as an always hot-debated issue, Middle East, Israel and Palestine can hardly be decided over a plain simple sentence. The focus is not the political correctness in a controversial region, it is the person, who remained in the politics, won all the medals of the world, read hours per day, kept working until the last moment of his life. Maybe, that could be the lesson we learn.

Check out “I Am. Shimon Peres” on Netflix

https://www.netflix.com/title/80064348?s=i

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Only If God Could

Taught me a lesson I should’ve known all alone: what you do to children matters, and they might never forget.

God Help the Child by Toni Morrison

I used a completely new way to start Toni Morrison. It’s my first Toni Morrison, but certainly not the last one. The form is an audio book in trial period narrated by Toni Morrison herself, unabridged.

Listening to the story unfolding with Toni Morrison’s narrator is like walking in a labyrinth with grassed walls in a huge garden, in colonial time with African slaves. Trying to figure out the plot, one could be so focused in her narrating, with weathered and aged voice, it feels like a grandma telling you life experience. Wonderful. Possibly, the structure of the book wasn’t designed for listeners, but the result of listening to the book is surprisingly positive.

Judging by the title, people ask whether it is for children to read, well, no. As we all tried to deceive children with some whitewashed facts and realities, in this book, they are going to encounter the “nicest guy in the world” who “wouldn’t kill a fly” be a child molester and serial killer. That’s not hard, you know, human mind, bang, one can be sick. But hard on the kids. We all once were kids, asking parents who are the good guys and who are the bad guys in a movie, knowing everything should be black or white, well, let me introduce you the color called “grey”, said “adult society”.

Kids raped with the help of their prostitute mother by her clients, running away trying to survive on the street, I could feel the clash and conflict of color black and white, as the most visual colours well as the representative of what is true and what is false. Is there something like that?

The funny thing is, we all try to hide the dirty part of the society from our kids, wanting them to never enter the stage, needless to say to play a role, or never walking out of the bubble we created for them. As they grow up, they should find out themselves? Is it more hurting? But when they have the power and resilience to endure and surpass the shock, parents will always be proud of them. What if they won’t? Shame? Scorn? That’s their problems? Hard to know. But I’d venture to believe, truth is always welcomed.

Revisiting Haruki Murakami

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There are wells, deep wells, dug in our hearts. Birds fly over them.

Hear the Wind Sing/Pinball 1973

Haruki Murakami’s Norwegian Wood squeezed in the leftist side of mom’s bookshelf in a really low profiile replaced the sex education part of the biology class in middle school, that’s the only impression I had for Haruki Murakami. It’s not fair for him, now I would say. Usually, I hesitate in reading a writer’s first one or two books, but this time, I made the right choice in revisiting Haruki Murakami in about ten years.

The design of the book brings you back to the age of cassette, A & B, two sides, but upside down. I actually read Pinball, 1973 first, and Hear the Wind Sing. It’s the wrong order, but themes are pretty much the same.

I’m surprised how fast I could get a hold of Murakami’s style of writing, and as an entrepreneur (let’s use this hot term so far) who runs a bar, his grasp of a style and structure of a story is really a gifted talent. His writing brings a gulp of fresh but chill air, like walking along a creek, on the rotten leaves, with your lover, friend, talking about life and leaving.

Somehow I feel running a bar gives Murakami a deep understanding of life, or maybe that’s not the reason. Meeting numerous people? There is a profound sensation of life in his writing, even soaked in despair, in the inevitable farewells to friends and loved ones. Vividly, that’s how we live. We cannot get hold of anything forever, one has to let it go, it doesn’t matter what is it. IT! He said: language is tough. Yes, and it is tougher to master it.

In several places, he mentioned Kennedy, indicating how influential JFK’s death was in that age. But, his writing has never been political enough, which is precious and cherish able. That’s how politics affect us. It’s not a big deal, but it’s flowing in daily conversations. Mundane. Plain. Full of meaning.

The tone in both books are similar, stories are consistent, it’s very Murakamique. I was fascinated by how he talked about his “kitchen stories” and his attempt to write in English. Another Nabokov maybe? Another language, another interpretation of life, another Murakami.

For what we feel about life, not the abstract concept, but the life itself, the LIFE that  accompanied us everyday, Murakami knows the best, expresses it to the perfection. It is not the perfection of narrating, but the imperfect image of a life portray. It’s ours. Everyone’s life. We encounter death, leaving, birth and some other insignificances, such as pride or dilemmas. It continues or it may stop. It’s just as natural as it sounds.

Like Pinball game, the classic game in Microsoft system. Now it impresses nobody, but was also my favourite game. I wasn’t a thinker like Murakami while playing it, but when he points out that Pinball machine is all about acceptance but not self-transformation, I realised it is what fascinated me.

Stories are there, we could choose to tell it while let the birds fly.