"Stories are beings. You invite them to live with you. They'll teach you what they know, in return of being a good host. When they're ready to move on, they'll let you know. Then you pass them on to someone else..."- A Cree storyteller
ANCIENT Japanese mythology tells us of a place where there is no winter and flowers never fade.It is a place of eternal youth, where life is not as fleeting as the shadows cast by the twilight sun.
Thousands of haiku verses and stories of lore have been weaved in discourse of this place - Shinkoro. Perhaps, it is even the source-spring of the Western ideas that are the legendary fountains of youth and the poets and poetesses' Elysian Fields.
Story telling has been man's Shinkoro since time immemorial. Through oral and written tales, we have chronicled our lives and aspirations, our goals and dreams no matter how elusive they might be.
The stories we tell reveal so much of us. It is in the telling that we describe our ideals. It is in the stories written, told and passed on to others that give meaning to Horais, to Shinkoros, to fountains of youth, to Elysian Fields.
I remember writing a short essay a not too long ago about an idyllic vision, of seeing ourselves on a long trip that spans a continent.
We are travelling by train. Out the windows, we drink in the passing scene of cars on nearby highways, of children waving at a crossing, of cattle grazing on distant hillside, of smoke pouring from a power plant, of row upon row of corn and wheat of flat lands and valleys, of mountains and rolling hillsides, of city skylines and village halls.
But uppermost in our minds is the final destination. On a certain day at a certain hour, we will pull into the station. Bands will be playing and flags will wave. Once we get there, so many wonderful dreams will come true and the pieces of our lives will fit together like a completed jigsaw puzzle.
How restlessly we pace the aisles, damning the minutes for loitering - waiting, waiting, waiting for the station.
"When we reach the station, that will be it!" we cry. "When I'm 30." "When I buy a new 450SL Mercedes Benz!" "When I put the last kid through college." "When my first novel gets published!" "When I get a promotion." "When I reach the age of retirement, I shall live happily ever after!"
Sooner or later, we must realize that there is no station, no one place to arrive at once and for all. The true joy of life is the trip. The station is only a dream. It constantly out-distances us.
It isn't the burdens of today that drive men and women mad. It is the regrets over yesterday and the fear of tomorrow. Regret and fear are twin thieves who rob us of today.
So stop pacing the aisles and counting the miles. Instead, climb more mountains, eat more ice cream, go barefoot more often, swim more rivers and watch more sunsets. Laugh more, cry less. Life must be lived as we go along.
The station will come soon enough.
Shinkoro, how elusive it might be, will come soon enough.