The snake that holds our house together

The snake that holds our house together
Author: Sasha Douglas-Nares
Publisher: die Firma
Language: English
Size: 20.32 x 25.4 cm
Weight: 12.8 g
Binding: Softcover
Availability: In stock
Price: €20.00
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Product Description

a snapshot of 2020 for the sake of reflection. old thoughts are some- how always cringe, the past me was so naive. ugh trying not to regret being honest I decided to kill my bonsai to shock myself awake. When the thought came to me, it erupted from deep inside, and I knew I couldn't ignore the feeling. I took it outside to the driveway, and set it on fire. I bought a bonsai on the side of a mountain road. It felt like my chance for the peacefulness I imagine plant owners have. The lady I bought it from let me photograph the stand, but not her. I only bought the bonsai so she would let me take the photo, but then I realized the joy it brought me. She gave me a piece of paper with instructions on how to care for the little tree. It looked like a baby cedar. The steps are simple; water twice a week, with direct but not harsh sunlight. I thought, not so hard.

So I let myself begin to feel for it. I imagined knowing all the lit- tle things that made it feel loved. I watched youtube videos about old masters in Japan talking about gen- erations of bonsai growers before them. They say that to care for a bonsai is to maintain a sense of ritual. For some reason I think ritual is the same as routine. I run from rou- tine because it sounds like a trap. Circling the same daily tasks, just to function in society, a personal horror. Get up, go to work, drive home, water plants, go to bed, repeat. It looks like the stair- case to waking up some decades later wondering where my life went. But I know this isn't true. I think I skewed my perspective by chasing adrenaline for so many years. Driving fast all the time means never seeing anything out the window, and I was missing the small things. Adrenaline couldn't feed me. Without the rush, I was an empty shell. So I guess this was also a routine. It seems that routine and ritual are distinct. Routine is mindless, ritual is mindful. Routine is playing the same song on the same com- mute, ritual is hearing something different every time. I'm sorry I hurt my bonsai, but I'm grateful for the lesson.