Stranger Things S3 - Hopper's Letter to El: What a Loving Dad Fears …

At the end of Stranger Things Season 3, we see that Eleven (“El”) is with Joyce’s family because Hopper, her adoptive father, is presumably dead (incinerated in the Russian-run facility). (OK, I strongly believe he’s not dead though…)  Earlier in the season, Hopper wrote a letter to El in order to express his concern that she is spending way too much time with Mike, her boyfriend, in an unwholesome, exclusive way but he never got to speak with her about the contents of that letter because he took it all out on Mike and sternly prohibited him from continuing his and El’s relationship. At the end of the season though, El finds that never-communicated letter from her dad and reads it.

This is what the letter said:

There's something I've been wanting to talk to you both about. I know this is a difficult conversation, but I care about you both very much. And I know that you care about each other very much, and that's why it's important that we set these boundaries moving forward so we can build an environment where we all feel comfortable, trusted, and open to sharing our feelings. 

Feelings.Feelings.Jesus. The truth is, for so long I'd forgotten what those even were. I've been stuck in one place. In a cave, you might say. A deep, dark cave. And then I left some Eggos out in the woods and you came into my life. For the first time in a long time, I started to feel things again. I started to feel happy. But lately, I guess I've been feeling distant from you. Like you're pulling away from me or something. I miss playing board games every night, making triple decker Eggo extravaganzas at sunrise, watching Westerns together before we doze off. 

But I know you're getting older, growing, changing. I guess, if I'm being really honest, that's what scares me. I don't want things to change. So I think maybe that's why I came in here, to try and make [us] stop that change. To turn back the clock. To make things go back to how they were. But I know that's naive. It's just not how life works. It's moving, always moving, whether you like it or not. And yeah, sometimes it's painful. Sometimes it's sad. And sometimes, it's surprising. Happy. So you know what? Keep on growing up kid. Don't let me stop you. Make mistakes, learn from 'em. When life hurts you, because it will, remember the hurt. The hurt is good. It means you're out of that cave. But, please, if you don't mind, for the sake of your poor old dad, keep the door open three inches.  

(Source: https://www.menshealth.com/entertainment/a28338013/stranger-things-hopper-eleven-letter-full-text/ )

Some of My Thoughts and Reflections

A Loving Father’s Fears … particularly, of Letting Go

This letter of Hopper to El touched me in a profound way. I’m asking myself why. I guess, it’s because over the last year and a half, our daughter KH seemed to have grown a lot—from a kid to a young woman!—(at least it seems) almost overnight! (Now I’m writing here from the perspective of a daddy who has a very close relationship with his only daughter … just like Hopper with El.) I can understandably relate a lot with Hopper’s sentiments in this letter. Up until now, KH (our daughter) has been our darling baby-girl, very close to us/to me; KH and I have spent a lot of time together: as a whole (small) family (with D my wife-her mom) to be sure, but we’ve also had so many very special exclusive daddy-daughter times, such as hiking, camping, watching movies, church, or even just talking in the car while going to or from school, etc. etc., things I (and hopefully she) will always savour and cherish all throughout life!

When D and I got married and we planned to have a child, I clearly wanted a daughter; D was more “neutral.” So when we did have a daughter, I was ecstatic since she was a wonderful answer to my prayers. Looking back at the eleven years we’ve spent together so far … I can only sigh in contentment and happiness – it’s really been a great first eleven years together as a family, and also as a daddy-daughter team!

But when I see her now growing rapidly into a young woman, I kind of feel that the time when she and I are inseparable (like up until now) might soon come to an end … because …well… that’s life. Your child has to move out into the big, wide world and not remain tied to her parents. And … as Hopper expressed it so eloquently in his letter, I’m scared … I dread it… Going back to the letter, Hopper says

But I know you're getting older, growing, changing. I guess, if I'm being really honest, that's what scares me. I don't want things to change. So I think maybe that's why I came in here, to try and make [us] stop that change. To turn back the clock. To make things go back to how they were. But I know that's naive. It's just not how life works. It's moving, always moving, whether you like it or not. And yeah, sometimes it's painful. Sometimes it's sad. And sometimes, it's surprising. Happy

Upon closer reflection, this fear I have as a dad is actually an infallible and clear sign of the profound love I have for my daughter and, as far as I can tell, the profound love she has for me. I don’t know what the near future will bring but I hope and pray that that love which binds us all together as a family stays intact and continue to flourish as KH moves on to become an adolescent and a grown-up …

Feelings, even hurt feelings: a Clear Sign of Life and Love

Hopper relates in the letter that, for a while, he could not even “feel” anything. Life had so hurt him that he became numb … in short, unfeeling. It’s said that the opposite of love is not hate; it’s apathy—that uncaring attitude which is a sure sign that you are no longer interested in something, that you’ve died to something … or someone…

Life is tough; it can hurt us in many ways. When we get hurt to such an extent that we lose all interest in life and cease to have any feeling for anything, then that’s really the end. As long as we feel something, even hurt or anger, then it’s a sign that we’re alive.

The last part of Hopper’s letter is a gem. He says, “remember the hurt” because, as I said above, it’s a sign that you’re alive, that you’re not insensitive and numb.

For some years now, I’ve been advocating the spirituality of “Savour & Cherish” as two very important traits of a way of life that puts an accent on living to the full the NOW of one’s life. SAVOUR! What? Anything and everything in life, be they good or bad. The good is to be savoured because, among other things, it will encourage us during the tough times in life. But the negative, annoying, dark and ugly things in life (such as hurt feelings) as well are also equally to be “savoured.” Why? Because they can teach us precious lessons that we will never learn if everything is good and smooth-sailing… And the rule in life I know is THERE IS NO GROWTH AND DEEPENING WITHOUT PAIN!

I also noted that Hopper’s letter gives us a rare glimpse into one man’s (male) inner feelings of vulnerability. We men usually have a lot of difficulty acknowledging and honouring our feelings. Women are generally better in this than us. But it is a necessary task in life, even for men. Our feelings teach us a lot about ourselves, about who are the important people in our lives, about life itself. Let’s not be afraid to work with our feelings! (That’s a note to myself more than anything!)

Those are the things I thought about when thinking about Hopper’s touching letter.

Absolutes - the Sith - Ambiguity - Maturity

I was watching a segment of Star Wars Episode 3: Revenge of the Sith yesterday and Obi-Wan Kenobi''s line struck me with particular force. When Anakin says, "I consider the Jedi evil," Obi-Wan answers him thus, "Only a Sith deals with Absolutes."
How intriguing ...

A spiritual teacher I respect, Franciscan Richard Rohr teaches that a sign of spiritual maturity is when one moves from an either-or mentality ("I'm right and you're wrong!") to a state where one can accept and be comfortable with a certain amount of ambiguity in life because faith, frequently misunderstood as a "certainty," is actually, by definition, a state of being comfortable with ambiguity, often the ambiguity of acknowledging that absolute truth (or absolute  falsehood for that matter) cannot be found in anyone or anything. Rather, everyone or everything is almost always partially correct, as the philosopher Ken Wilber also teaches.

It's being open to this kind of ambiguity that constitutes a more mature, open, and compassionate way of looking at and relating with the world.

I  honour and cherish this dharma-teaching!

Of Mooncakes and Tradition

Tradition

Because I’m on sabbatical, I find that I'm more reflective about many things. One topic that has particularly drawn me and which I'm striving to deepen myself about is 'tradition.' It's even become a central concept in the book I'm currently writing.

Of course, I start with my own tradition(s). What is my/our Tradition? What are the traditions I'd like to pass on to the next generation, particularly, our daughter, my students, the members of my extended family and clan? This question about tradition is also profoundly tied with the question of identity: What is the identity behind the tradition? 

These thoughts have come to the fore because of the Moon (Mid-Autumn Harvest) Festival this year which fell on September 13 (earlier than the usual). 

It seems I have passed on the use of the word 'tradition' to our daughter because when I'd like to reinforce a practice or emphasize the importance of a ritual, a behaviour, a way of doing things or practically anything (e.g., why we eat certain things), I solemnly proclaim "It's our tradition." I find our daughter also using the same expression to emphasize the importance of things. D, my wife, finds my penchant for proclaiming our "traditions" amusing. But then, tradition is without question such an important thing. Without it, as the philosophers Hannah Arendt and Simone Weil said in effect, people would be “rootless.” It is this rootlessness that gives rise to more insidious things in society such as totalitarian regimes.

This year, for the Moon Festival, in order to "justify" our purchase of an elegant box of mooncake delicacies at the Asian grocery nearby (they are not cheap!), as usual, I said, "It's a tradition." So let me relate why I grew fond of mooncakes.

Mr Chung and His Mooncake Gifts

When I was a boy, a Chinese friend of my father, a certain Mr. Chung (a least, his name sounded that way) would bring us mooncakes from Manila's Chinatown. I only came to know recently that giving someone a mooncake means that the giver wishes you well. People give mooncakes to relatives and really dear friends. Mr. Chung and my dad must have really been good friends for him to give us mooncakes regularly.

The mooncakes from Mr. Chung seemed to be really special delicacies in a metal box, the type you want to use to store important things later on. When you opened the container, a number of deliciously looking mooncakes were staring back at you; some of them had salted egg yolks in them. These ones became my favourites. 

That's the origin of my love of mooncakes.

The Moon

the full moon as seen from our house

Of course, the moon is the central symbol of the Mid-Autumn Harvest Festival appropriately also known as "the Moon Festival." So let me also relate my moon-experiences.

Years later when I lived in Japan in my 20s, when early Fall came after the generally very hot and humid Tokyo summer, I would go out at night to enjoy the cooler weather and also gaze at the moon. I fondly remember often gazing at the autumn moon from the roof terrace of our seminary building which was a prominent building in the neighborhood where I lived called "Fujimicho” (literally, "town where Mt. Fuji is visible"), in Chofu-Tokyo. Yes, one could see Mt. Fuji from that building's roof terrace on clear days. And yes, the full moon was also beautiful from that vantage point.

It was in Japan where I learned how to observe nature more carefully in keeping with this excellent Japanese characteristic of being sensitive to nature. Thus, I learned to notice and observe better the subtle changes in nature accompanying the different seasons of the year. I also realized how really beautiful the autumn full moon is. Besides, Japan has its own tradition of o-tsukimi (お月見, literally, moon watching) when people would go outside, drink sake, eat tsukimi dango and of course admire the beauty of the moon. 

I cherish and treasure these memories.

So this is why I grew to be fond of mooncakes. This is why I regularly buy mooncakes at the Asian grocery even now. This is also why our daughter KH has also come to love mooncakes. 

It's amazing that behind every so-called 'tradition,' there is a rich back story of experiences from one's personal history. It is good to be aware of the origins of our so-called traditions.

The Shadow of Empire and Our Travel Experiences

The Egypt section at the British Museum

This summer, our family was able to visit England, Belgium, and France a few weeks ago. It was a fantastic trip, occasioned by KH’s (Amabile) choir’s participation in the Canterbury Festival and its England tour. We just took advantage of the occasion and stayed on in Europe to see more sites and bond as a family while doing so.

Aside from the truly unforgettable experience of visiting and enjoying some of the most well-known sites in these lands such as Trafalgar Square, the Westminster Palace, the Grand Place, Bruges, the Champs-Élysées, etc., one thought that kept coming back to me during this European trip was that there is an intimate link between travelling-seeing places and the spectre of empire. The places we visited—England, Belgium, and France—have been some of the most powerful empires of the past. And an empire can create and control ways of seeing the world (worldviews) and impose them on others.

Just think of many of the "famous" and "popular" places that we like to visit and see. If you analyze why these sites became so famous and popular, chances are the reason is because "empire" made them so. Empire was able to define what “beautiful” or “good” or “worth preserving” was and, hence, we continue to think of many things empire promoted in the past as beautiful, good, or worth it!

Yes, I saw the long shadow of empire in that. Years after these empires have peaked, their mark is still deeply etched in our psyches. I felt this most at the British Museum. The British empire has been really strong and vast at its peak and it was able to do what it wanted such as carting off various national treasures from their original locations back home to merry ol’ England in order to showcase the glory of the British empire. Many of these treasures are now found in places such as the British Museum. Imagine, the British Museum has an Egyptology section that is even better than the Cairo Museum in Egypt itself!

That is a dark thought. But it is a necessary reminder and warning for us to be aware of imperialism and not let empire continue its unjust and oppressive ways.

Notes from My Readings: Hatchet by Gary Paulsen

(finished reading 2019-05-21)

Our daughter bought and read this book for youth sometime ago because the teacher of her gifted cluster sessions recommended it to her. She really enjoyed it and recommended it in turn to me. As part of my unwinding and relaxation after an intense school year, I began reading it and finished quickly because it was so engaging.

I recommend it wholeheartedly to parents to suggest it as summer reading to the kids!

Overview
This is a story about Brian, a 13-year-old boy with a personal and family crisis (parents' divorce), who is on his way in a small plane to visit his dad in the Canadian oilfields. The plane's pilot suffers a heart attack during the flight and so the plane crashes in the middle of the Canadian wilderness. There Brian learns to survive and even flourish with the help of a hatchet that his mother gave him before he left. He learns precious lessons about life while trying to live in the wilderness, lessons that leave their indelible mark on him and radically change his outlook on life. In his words, the experience changes him and makes him like a new being so much so that he distinguishes his "old" self from the "new" self (p. 117) that was born as a result of his wilderness adventures (e.g., p. 115). 

My Takeaways

1. Adversities and difficulties are some of the best ways to yank one out of one's comfort zone where one takes everything for granted. They force you to appreciate each and every thing you have mindlessly enjoyed up to now. We see this in Brian as he tackles one difficulty at a time because his very life and survival depend on it. We see him going through one hoop at a time in order to ensure his survival - food, shelter, fire, self-defense (against mosquitoes and other animals in the wild). This is an example of the spirit of "ippo-ippo" (step by step). His experience in the wilderness is an instance of a modern person going back to the primitive and primordial level of human beings when they were at the mercy of nature in order to eke out an existence for themselves. His experience, as mentioned, enables him to appreciate every little thing he has taken for granted such as the ready availability of food in modern life (e.g., 179) because he had to struggle tremendously to provide those very basic needs for himself with great labour in the woods.
2. The story illustrates a state in which one is stripped down radically to one's bare essentials - just the most necessary things to survive with all the non-essentials just eliminated from your existence. It is only in such a state that you can be attentive to some otherwise very important things you never paid attention to before. It is only in such a state when you can develop abilities that otherwise would lie dormant in you. We can see this, for example, in Brian as his senses become sharper to detect presences or elements in nature through intuition, smell, sound, etc (e.g. p. 100)
3. "... later he looked back on this time of crying in the corner of the dark cave and thought of it as when he learned the most important rule of survival, which was that feeling sorry for yourself didn't work." (p. 77)

Back to Life
In this age when many kids (and not only kids) are glued to screens, the "outdoor" experience retains its crucially important role in teaching kids (and the rest of us) valuable lessons about life. Some of my best experiences in life were those spent outdoors: camping, mountain-climbing, hiking, etc. I try to convey those experiences to our daughter by providing her with chances to enjoy the great outdoors, especially here in Canada where there are so many excellent places to enjoy nature! These are my "back to life" reflections on Hatchet.

Savour and Cherish: A Daddy-Daughter Moment to Cherish

I have to remind myself every now and then of the purpose of this blog which is expressed in its name "Ippo-ippo" (step-by-step): We have to take every step in life with deliberation and mindfulness because, as the Zen teacher Thich Nhat Hanh reminds us, "Mindfulness is a source of happiness."

Related with this is a wonderful passage from Franciscan spiritual teacher Richard Rohr: 

Fearful, negative, hateful thoughts are like velcro; the neurons just grab around them and solidify. (My comment: That's why it's hard to let go of a grudge.) Positive, grateful and loving thoughts are like Teflon. They just slide off unless you savor them consciously (me: this is a major component of contemplation) for at least 15 seconds

For the full passage, see: Rohr on turning toward the good

***

With that, let me resume this practice in this blog more regularly (since I'm on sabbatical!) and share something, a life "ippo" (Japnese, one step) today about one of my favorite topics - dad-daughter moments.

Our dear daughter KH is 10 years old. She's grown up to be a fine 10-year-old so far - respectful, having a fine sense of right and wrong, smart, athletic, musical ... She has far surpassed what I dreamed of in an ideal daughter. One thing that I really treasure and cherish though is our unique bond as dad and daughter. At this point in time, I can say, that KH and I are in a wonderful dad-daughter relationship - easy, friendly, affectionate, respectful. She can joke with me, tease me even, but I know that deep within she respects and loves me. When I am annoyed, hurt or even angry with her, she perceives that and seeks to address it swiftly for the better. The same is true of myself toward her, with her different moods. We can readily apologize to each other.

The other day, when I picked her up after her second choir concert (of that day), we were walking toward where the car was parked. She was in a happy mood and she was chatting away merrily as we walked. As we turned onto the street where the car was (it was a side street and at that time of the night [after nine], there were practically no other people around), she just naturally twirled her hand and arm into mine as she was chatting happily. 

KH doesn't really like public displays of affection but when we are by ourselves as a family, she is the sweetest young lady there could be! I don't exactly remember what she was saying but that moment of daughter-dad walking hand-in-hand, sharing the happy experiences of the day is something that really gave me such a deep and immense joy. My heart was just full to the brim. When your child is affectionate this way, doesn't it just melt your heart? 

I savour and cherish this "ippo" (one step)!

The Sublime and the Mundane - Planting lettuce and writing poetry

This is a delightful vignette from Buddhist master Thich Nhat Hanh that shows how life is connected with poetry, that the mundane and the sublime are like yin and yang, inseparable and necessary in order to live a life of depth that is squarely rooted in everyday realities.

One day in New York City, I met a Buddhist scholar and I told her about my practice of mindfulness in the vegetable garden. I enjoy growing lettuce, tomatoes, and other vegetables, and I like to spend time gardening every day. 

She said, "You shouldn't spend your time growing vegetables. You should spend more time writing poems. Your poems are so beautiful. Everyone can grow lettuce, but not everyone can write poems like you do."

I told her, "If I don't grow lettuce, I can't write poems."

(From Your True Home #103)

Of course, the quote in the image from the Sufi master Pir Vilayat Inayat Khan is also noteworthy.
I savor and cherish this teaching. A beautiful mosaic is composed of so many little yet uniquely wonderful pieces. Let's take care to make those little pieces count!

My Initial Thoughts on 'The Handmaid’s Tale', Season Two

I completed viewing Season Two recently. This season is significant because it is a creative departure from the novel by Margaret Atwood which closely guided Season One. The novel and season one end about the same point – the capture of the protagonist, June/Offred.

One thing that stands out for me is that the Republic of Gilead (the fictional dystopic society that has replaced the USA) is supposed to be a theonomic (divine-law) state that stands on biblical principles and laws. The result of this, however, is the spectre of a country that is in fact so terribly unethical and oppressive that it could very well be described simply as "evil" because it condones and actively performs things such as systemic rape, flagrant disrespect of various human rights, murderous suppression of dissidents, random killings and so on and so forth.

Gilead and the Bible
I walked away from Season 2 just flabbergasted at how the Republic of Gilead (and all what it stands for) really reflects badly on the kind of entity the Bible is. This leads me also to ask the very troubling question: what type of person or group does the Bible, when taken and read in a serious yet very misguided way, actually produce? Is the Bible, as the Christian tradition claims, the words (or "the Word”) of God? Hmmm… Didn’t Jesus say, “By their fruits you shall know them” (Mt 7:20)? Or is the Bible just, on the whole, a product of a very malignantly ethnocentric and savagely primitive level of culture that has to be transcended and corrected by the advances that have happened in human history?

Gilead and “Pro-Life”?
Another disturbing aspect of the story is that the Republic of Gilead (i.e., the elites in power therein) exhibits an obsessive concern for the production of "precious" new life (in the form of babies - hence, the creation of the class of "handmaids") but systemically tramples on and destroys life in other areas because of its hypocritical disregard for life (taken in a more holistic sense) and the quality of life of many of its people, as well as the rights of many in its realm. Talk about a warped tunnel-vision or fixation! This aspect reminds me a great deal of some unbalanced attitudes of some Catholic pro-life elements.

A quote I saw on FB from Barbara Brown Taylor (priest, theologian, professor) eloquently summarizes my strong feelings after my viewing:
"Jesus was not killed by atheism and anarchy. He was brought down by law and order allied with religion-which is always a deadly mix. Beware those who claim to know the mind of God and are prepared to use force, if necessary, to make others conform. Beware those who cannot tell God's will - from their own."

The Theme of Hybridity in "Aquaman" and "The Legend of Mowgli"

     I saw a few noteworthy references to the promise and power of hybridity in two films I saw recently. First, there was Aquaman. My daughter and I really enjoyed this movie and its telling of the origins and growth of Aquaman as a hero. I was particularly struck with the prominence of the theme of hybridity. Arthur Curry (Aquaman) is constantly called a "half-breed". There is a constant tension between "land" and "sea." He is not accepted in Atlantis and particularly by his brother, Orm, because he is a "half-breed mongrel." But only when Arthur learns to accept, embrace and live in two worlds is the harmony achieved. Only then does his hero's journey go into full throttle.

Some particularly noteworthy quotes that touch on this theme:

Mera: [speaking to Aquaman] You think you’re unworthy to lead because you have two different worlds. That is exactly why you are worthy.
[Queen Atlanna speaks to baby Arthur]
Queen Atlanna: You could unite our worlds one day.
Queen Atlanna (to her son Orm): You have been misguided. There are not two worlds;  the sea and the land are one!

Mera tells Arthur: Atlantis has always had a king. Now it needs something more.

Arthur: “What could be greater than a king?  

Mera: A hero.  A king fights for his nation.  A hero fights for everyone.

***

The Legend of Mowgli also has a significant message about hybridity.

Mowgli is raised by wolves after his family is killed by Sheer Khan, the tiger. However, since he is not a real wolf but a man-cub, he cannot run as fast as the wolves. More significantly, he is always torn between his "different" status in the pack although his mother tells him that he is not a freak but "special."

He eventually makes peace in some measure with his hybrid identity as "neither wolf not man" and in that hybrid capacity, he is able to secure peace for the jungle.