Worry Dolls

My coworker Yamamoto-san, about 40 years old, put down her book and said to me, “You know, it has taken me many years but I’m beginning to understand that it's because of uneasiness that anything important happens and that life is so interesting. It's the unknown, the uncertainty, that is thrilling and creative, and I can be ok with that, ok with unease. This is all new to me, but I can feel it. It’s taken so many years though.”

I sat up.

She continued, “During meditation the other day I felt like I was a container; just an empty container, and I could fill that container with thoughts and feelings, or I could let other people fill it with thoughts and feeling,, or not fill it. I was a container for that. It felt very freeing.”

“That’s beautiful. We can fill it, or other people can fill it. Interesting. Your image reminds me: in Kyoto, at Kyomizu temple, there is a large wooden bucket of water next to a table, and on the table is a pile of special paper. People write their worries on the thin pieces of paper and then drop them into the wooden bucket where they slowly dissolves. The water is filled with peoples’ worries, appearing as layers and layers of foggy, pulpy fields laced with lost letters and names. And it looked like unmoving clouds suspended in sky. I liked the image a lot. “



“Yeah. Sounds interesting, and beautiful.”

“When I visited there last week, there was a woman standing by the table writing furiously on dozens of sheets of paper. She had a whole book to drop in that bucket.”

“Did you write a worry to dissolve with everyone else’s?”

“No.”

“Oh, you have no worries?” she smiled.

“No, I just didn't want to wait in line.”

“That’s funny.” She said, and got back to her book.



The annual G8 summit will be in Hokkaido this year, from July 7–9. Anyone going? I'd like to go and visit my friend David at the same time.