“Buddha. I bow and pray to live and practice toward becoming a bodhisattva.” This is #103 out of a series of 108 daily Buddhist affirmations that I am attempting to translate with my hands tied behind my back (well not really that, but I’m deliberately not seeking out translations on the internet, using only dictionary and grammar).
I would read this one hundred third affirmation as: “Buddha. I bow and pray to live and practice toward becoming a bodhisattva.” I was completely stumped by the -행 ending in 보살행. It’s not in online Korean-English dictionaries, but it’s in the Korean only ones, where the definition is: “보살이 부처가 되려고 수행하는, 자기와 남을 이롭게 하는 원만한 행동.” I decided to take 보살행 as meaning something like “bodhisattvaism,” but then basically to disregard it in my effort to translate, and use a phrase like “becoming a bodhisattva” instead. I have no idea if this the right meaning.
“Buddha. I bow and pray not to suffer sickness in the world.” This is #102 out of a series of 108 daily Buddhist affirmations that I am attempting to translate with my hands tied behind my back (well not really that, but I’m deliberately not seeking out translations on the internet, using only dictionary and grammar).
I would read this one hundred second affirmation as: “Buddha. I bow and pray not to suffer sickness in the world.” I say that, currently suffering sickness. Well. Such is life. It’s not a severe sickness, setting aside certain subtle inclincations toward hypochondria that I sometimes experience. What I’m listening to right now.
[UPDATE 2024-04-19: The link to the music video has rotted. Yay internet! Sorry…] Sarah Jarosz, “Left Home.”
“Buddha. I bow and pray not to be destitute in the world.”
This is #101 out of a series of 108 daily Buddhist affirmations that I am attempting to translate with my hands tied behind my back (well not really that, but I’m deliberately not seeking out translations on the internet, using only dictionary and grammar).
I would read this one hundred first affirmation as: “Buddha. I bow and pray not to be destitute in the world.” I would only add that poverty is in part, at least, a state of mind. Not that I deny real causes and inequalities – as a lapsed marxist, I must allow them. But beyond the most basic needs of food and shelter, most of our needs are manufactured for us by our culture. Hence true destitution is starvation and exposure to the raw elements – that’s something worth praying against.
On a lighter note, here’s a handy happiness diagram I found online.
“Buddha. I bow and pray not to be at war with the world.”
This is #100 out of a series of 108 daily Buddhist affirmations that I am attempting to translate with my hands tied behind my back (well not really that, but I’m deliberately not seeking out translations on the internet, using only dictionary and grammar).
I would read this one hundredth affirmation as: “Buddha. I bow and pray not to be at war with the world.” I’m not sure if this is supposed to be “not to be at war with the world” or “that there is no war in the world.” There is a pronoun with both a topic and and subject marker, and then the strange verb 없다 [eops-da = not to have] (which essentially slots two subjects, grammatically, with I as one subject and war as the other). So it means “I don’t have war” or “War doesn’t have me” or “Around me there is no war” or “Around war I am not.” Or something like that. Translating it clearly is challenging, given my limited understanding. I suppose from a pragmatic standpoint, all of these are roughly similar.
All of which is relevant in the context of Qaddafi’s death yesterday, which leaves me queasy despite his possibly deserving to have died – did he die fighting, or was he summarily executed? I’m guessing the latter, and that makes me uncomfortable, just as it did with Osama bin Laden. When did summary execution once again become the norm? I thought sometime during the 20th century we decided, at a globally collective level perhaps – but most certainly at the level of “Civilization” – that such things as summary executions were uncivilized.
It’s so pleasing that the future Space Emperor signed off on this Libyan project. Um. Not. Then again, the quote from Lincoln (at link) is the right sort of foreshadowing – Mr Lincoln wasn’t exactly a pacifist, was he?
“Buddha. I bow and pray to exist harmoniously with all life.” This is #99 out of a series of 108 daily Buddhist affirmations that I am attempting to translate with my hands tied behind my back (well not really that, but I’m deliberately not seeking out translations on the internet, using only dictionary and grammar).
“Buddha. I bow and pray to bear a clear and bright heart.”
This is #98 out of a series of 108 daily Buddhist affirmations that I am attempting to translate with my hands tied behind my back (well not really that, but I’m deliberately not seeking out translations on the internet, using only dictionary and grammar).
“Buddha. I bow and pray to live with a compassionate heart.”
This is #97 out of a series of 108 daily Buddhist affirmations that I am attempting to translate with my hands tied behind my back (well not really that, but I’m deliberately not seeking out translations on the internet, using only dictionary and grammar).
I would read this ninety-seventh affirmation as: “Buddha. I bow and pray to live with a compassionate heart.”
What I’m listening to right now.
[UPDATE 2024-04-20: in the fullness of time, all internet links will rot. The linked video on this page has done so. Let us show compassion toward those rotted links, and toward the incompetent internet giants that make them happen.]
Antonio Carlos Jobim’s instrumental from his album Stone Flower, “Tereza My Love.” As one critic put it: “Brazilian music made for Americans.” But that doesn’t really detract from it, that much.
“Buddha. I bow and pray to think positively in everything.”
This is #96 out of a series of 108 daily Buddhist affirmations that I am attempting to translate with my hands tied behind my back (well not really that, but I’m deliberately not seeking out translations on the internet, using only dictionary and grammar).
I would read this ninety-sixth affirmation as: “Buddha. I bow and pray to think positively in everything.”
This affirmation is quite important. It is perhaps one of the affirmations that I have in fact been practicing, on and off, for a very long time. It brings to mind the French philosopher Gilles Deleuze, writing on Spinoza: “ethical joy is the correlate of speculative affirmation.” I’ve mentioned that quote before, on this blog – it’s one of my favorite and most meaningful, so I come back to it a lot. I found the silly image of Baruch de Spinoza in a random online search. Philosophical powers, indeed!
At hagwon, yesterday, we returned to the regular schedule (post-시험대비, so to speak), but many of the middle-schoolers didn’t bother to show up – out recovering from their mid-terms, I suspect. So we ended up showing them a movie: Green Lantern. One of the other teachers thought it could be justified “educationally” by having me ask some “comprehension” questions afterward, so I got to watch it too – during which I took notes and imagined I was going to have to write some kind of review. My semiotician’s trope-detector kicked into overdrive, entertainingly.
We didn’t finish the movie, but in the last few minutes of class, I asked the kids what they would do if the alien had chosen to give one of them the green lantern and magic green ring (with it’s seemingly infinite, vaguely Nietzschean powers).
One girl said, confidently, “I will sell it.” I laughed. Money is better than infinite powers of Will. Of course. So… Man. Superman. Billionaire.
“Buddha. I bow and pray to be honest in everything.”
This is #95 out of a series of 108 daily Buddhist affirmations that I am attempting to translate with my hands tied behind my back (well not really that, but I’m deliberately not seeking out translations on the internet, using only dictionary and grammar).
“Buddha. I bow and pray to do the best in everything.”
This is #94 out of a series of 108 daily Buddhist affirmations that I am attempting to translate with my hands tied behind my back (well not really that, but I’m deliberately not seeking out translations on the internet, using only dictionary and grammar).
I would read this ninety-fourth affirmation as: “Buddha. I bow and pray to do the best in everything.”
And hence, to Nirvana. Not the end state of Buddhist practice, but the rock band.
On the radio there is a lot of retrospective about the 20th anniversary of Nirvana’s Nevermind album. Everyone is saying it’s a group and album that changed everything.
So, speaking of doing one’s best, actually, I am inclined to agree. I remember hearing the boys from Aberdeen, Washington, in 91 or 92 when I was in the Army, or shortly after getting out, and thinking, this is a band that is really representing something new, something different, something capturing the alienation of the post-disco, post-Reagan generation. And I have a very, very distinct and clear memory of when I was studying in Valdivia, Chile, in 1994, and going to some bar or nightclub with some Chilean friends I’d made, and “Smells like teen spirit” was playing, and one of them (who happened to be an activist in the post-Pinochet truth and reconciliation movement) turning to me and saying “Este grupo Nirvana es el más importante de nuestra generación – verás” [this group Nirvana is the most important of our generation – you’ll see].
I listened to the sound carefully, because of that, and felt inclined to agree in that moment, having drunk 1 or 2 Pisco Sours (Chile’s national cocktail).
What I’m listening to right now.
Nirvana, “Come as you are.” My personal favorite from that album, maybe. Perhaps one strength of Nirvana was that they managed to be huge and famous and yet in some weird way remained raw and utterly unpretentious. Not that that lack of pretention rescued Mr Cobain from his untimely suicide, right? That means something, too.
Here’s a screencap from the video – note the lyric, “no I don’t have a gun.”
I woke up this morning with a fragment of a dream stuck to the inside of my brain. Utterly realistic dream.
I was sitting at work, at my desk, overhearing my boss talking on the phone with one of a student’s parents. I was understanding it – not dream understanding, but actually capturing the words of the conversation. A first grade (elementary) student, Jaehyeon, was leaving the hagwon.
When Curt hung up the phone, with his dramatic sigh as he often does when he has failed to convince a parent who is set on leaving to stay, I said to him, “Jaehyeon is leaving.” Statement, not question.
“네” [ne], he agreed. In English, he added, “But she said he liked your class. So why is he leaving.”
In the dream, I felt very sad, that Jaehyeon was leaving. He’s by far my favorite first-grader, has a very active imagination and linguistic creativity. He makes random funny noises when he doesn’t understand something.
I woke up with this floating in my brain, thinking it was a memory of being at work. But no, I’d remember for sure if Jaehyeon were, in fact, leaving. But then I had another thought: I’d dreamed in Korean. Not completely, but somewhat. What’s distinctive is that it was understood dream Korean, that was real Korean. Not the dream-Korean I struggle with so often, where it’s gobbledygook that I can’t make any sense out of, and that I doubt is real Korean. And that is a milestone, maybe. Or a rarity, in any event, above and beyond the banality of the dream fragment.
“Buddha. I bow and pray to be humble in everything.”
This is #93 out of a series of 108 daily Buddhist affirmations that I am attempting to translate with my hands tied behind my back (well not really that, but I’m deliberately not seeking out translations on the internet, using only dictionary and grammar).
“Buddha. I bow and pray not to resent other people.”
This is #92 out of a series of 108 daily Buddhist affirmations that I am attempting to translate with my hands tied behind my back (well not really that, but I’m deliberately not seeking out translations on the internet, using only dictionary and grammar).
I would read this ninety-second affirmation as: “Buddha. I bow and pray not to resent other people.”
Resent. Is this like jealousy? The dictionary also offers the word “blame” as a translation of 원망하다. It also lists “hold a grudge” and “feel bitter toward.” I see resentment and blame as being very different things. But I can see how they’re linked. I would say resentment and blame, together, are the number one “sins” of the expat community in Korea – foreigners like to sit in Korea and resent how things are different, or blame strange Korean culture for all the various misunderstandings and frustrations they have. It’s so very easy to slip into that mode. It’s why I stay away from online groupings of foreigners at all costs, generally.
Actually, I don’t feel like this is one of my bugaboos. Maybe my big problem isn’t with resentment but rather with metaresentment. By which I mean the fact of resenting others’ resentments. Haha.
I took the picture (above left) two years ago during my visit to Ulleungdo (an isolated island off Korea’s east coast by a few hours by ferry). Ulleungdo is by far my favorite rural place in Korea that I’ve visited. I’m mostly a city person, but I seem to like my rural places “extreme” or remote, in some sense: Patagonia, Southeast Alaska, Upper Michigan, Ulleungdo.
“Buddha. I bow and pray not to disdain other people.”
This is #91 out of a series of 108 daily Buddhist affirmations that I am attempting to translate with my hands tied behind my back (well not really that, but I’m deliberately not seeking out translations on the internet, using only dictionary and grammar).
I would read this ninety-first affirmation as: “Buddha. I bow and pray not to disdain other people.”
The one-word substitutions from one affirmation to the next are the easiest to translate. Even if I don’t know the word, with the syntactical matrix being exactly the same all it takes is a simple dictionary look-up. 무시하다 can also mean “ignore,” and I nearly preferred that word over disdain. Mostly because it would make it a very “relatable” affirmation – I am, in fact, sometimes quite guilty of ignoring other people. I have such strong anti-social tendencies, maybe… or else, in a more positive way, it could be said that I value and need my solitude, daily. It’s so difficult when people “reach out” to me and I’m just not “in the mood” to be social. It seems more polite to ignore them than to respond with a “leave me alone” (clearly), but I nevertheless feel guilty about it.
I wonder how this could connect to those Buddhist monks who go off and live solitary, isolated lives. Are they still called upon to not ignore others? I suppose they’re making it difficult for others to reach out to them … isn’t that a kind of ignoring?
I like the word 흐림 [heurim], because of its sound. And the fact that it’s a kind of gerund, derived from the verb 흐리다 [heurida = “to be cloudy, to be overcast”]. So the word might literally translate as “clouding” or “overcasting,” although more natural English would be “cloudiness” maybe. I awoke kind of early, this morning. I haven’t been feeling well, lately, but the air outside my open windows was cool and truly fall-like, perhaps for the first time of the season. It was maybe 15 degrees (60 F), and the sky was grey. I felt really invigorated, to wake up and have it not feel warm and sticky humid. So I looked at the weather forcast, and it said 흐림. Clouding.
“Buddha. I bow and pray not to slander other people.”
This is #90 out of a series of 108 daily Buddhist affirmations that I am attempting to translate with my hands tied behind my back (well not really that, but I’m deliberately not seeking out translations on the internet, using only dictionary and grammar).
In the past I’ve sometimes used the joking metaphor that I’m in a “relationship” with the Korean Language. Learning (or trying to learn) a language is like that, sometimes.
On Monday (Chuseok day) my friend Peter, an American who had been living and working in Ilsan up until May of last year, returned to Korea for a new teaching job. He visited with me yesterday before going off to his new job, and we took a long walk (about 13 km, in a circle around Ilsan, visiting old haunts and things I guess).
All the walking around, we talked about things, too. One thing that happened was when he made kind of a laconic question to the effect of, “So, has the whole Korean Language thing lost its lustre?” (not exact words, but that was the gist of it).
Without missing a beat, I responded, “Oh, I’m as infatuated with the Korean Language as ever. But she’s not returning my calls. It’s very sad.”
This takes the metaphor to a new level. But it’s pretty accurate. Oh well. I’ve been feeling stuck on a plateau lately, and unable to climb past it.
I didn’t take my camera on the long walk – so no pictures. But here’s a map-plot of the walk, as best I can reconstruct it from memory. The loop was completed with a two-stop ride on the subway #3 line, back home to Juyeop.
This is #89 out of a series of 108 daily Buddhist affirmations that I am attempting to translate with my hands tied behind my back (well not really that, but I’m deliberately not seeking out translations on the internet, using only dictionary and grammar).
This is #88 out of a series of 108 daily Buddhist affirmations that I am attempting to translate with my hands tied behind my back (well not really that, but I’m deliberately not seeking out translations on the internet, using only dictionary and grammar).
This is #87 out of a series of 108 daily Buddhist affirmations that I am attempting to translate with my hands tied behind my back (well not really that, but I’m deliberately not seeking out translations on the internet, using only dictionary and grammar).
I would read this eighty-seventh affirmation as: “Buddha. I bow and pray not to be envious.”
…Speaking of economics.
But actually, I experienced a moment of envy, this morning, upon learning that my closest friend from graduate school has published a book. It’s an “edition,” such as academics do – in this case, an edition of Balbuena’s “Grandeza mexicana” from 1604.
Envy, I guess, because it was once the sort of future I ambitiously imagined for myself… it seems that I’ve traveled a different road. Regardless, congratulations to my friend, and at some point look forward to reading what she wrote.
The problem with envy is that it’s pernicious – it doesn’t always really feel like a “negative” emotion. How is it different than, say, aspiration? Or is aspiration something to be avoided, too? That’s a possible implication. Desire as the source of suffering, and all that.
This is #86 out of a series of 108 daily Buddhist affirmations that I am attempting to translate with my hands tied behind my back (well not really that, but I’m deliberately not seeking out translations on the internet, using only dictionary and grammar).
I would read this eighty-sixth affirmation as: “Buddha. I bow and pray not to be arrogant.”
This is a difficult one for me. Through the years of my life, so many people have told me that I seem like an arrogant person. I strive for non-arrogance. Is that the same as humility? How is this done?
This is #85 out of a series of 108 daily Buddhist affirmations that I am attempting to translate with my hands tied behind my back (well not really that, but I’m deliberately not seeking out translations on the internet, using only dictionary and grammar).
I would read this eighty-fifth affirmation as: “Buddha. I bow and pray not to get angry.”
Today, I thought of getting angry but really there was no point. There was no copy machine. Which is also the main printer (so there was no printer except for the slow slow color one). I asked, “what happened to the copy machine?”
I was told we didn’t have one today. Maybe it’s being serviced? My boss pointed at the whiteboard that serves as a bulletin board in the office. “Didn’t you see? I wrote it, right there.”
Here is what was written on the white board:
“Ah,” I said. “That should’ve been obvious, then.” I guess I was being a little bit sarcastic.
Because, no, I didn’t read the notice on the bulletin board. I didn’t even try.
Setting aside that fact that I tune out Korean in these contexts to some extent, the handwriting is exceptionally messy, too. I just didn’t see the point in trying to decipher it. Obviously, I made a mistake.
Looking at it, now, I can see it says something about the copier, and about copying beforehand. I still can’t figure out the last verb – but yes. I can get the drift.
I’ve learned a small lesson. It’s one I’ve learned, repeatedly, before: the “Korean communication taboo” isn’t as all-encompassing as it appears to foreigners. But overcoming it does require one to put the effort into understanding the language and paying attention to the appropriate channels of communication.
This is #84 out of a series of 108 daily Buddhist affirmations that I am attempting to translate with my hands tied behind my back (well not really that, but I’m deliberately not seeking out translations on the internet, using only dictionary and grammar).
… 82. 항상 부처님의 법속에서 살기를 발원하며 절합니다. “I bow and pray to live always in the heart of Buddha’s dharma.” 83. 항상 스님의 가르침을 따르기를 발원하며 절합니다. “I bow and pray to follow always the teachings of the monks.” 84. 부처님. 저는 욕심을 내지 않기를 발원하며 절합니다.
I would read this eighty-fourth affirmation as: “Buddha. I bow and pray not to be greedy.”
“I bow and pray to follow always the teachings of the monks.”
This is #83 out of a series of 108 daily Buddhist affirmations that I am attempting to translate with my hands tied behind my back (well not really that, but I’m deliberately not seeking out translations on the internet, using only dictionary and grammar).
… 81. 항상 부처님의 품 안에서 살기를 발원하며 절합니다. “I bow and pray to live always in the Buddha’s arms.” 82. 항상 부처님의 법속에서 살기를 발원하며 절합니다. “I bow and pray to live always in the heart of Buddha’s dharma.” 83. 항상 스님의 가르침을 따르기를 발원하며 절합니다.
I would read this eighty-third affirmation as: “I bow and pray to follow always the teachings of the monks.”
I’m never comfortable with vows to follow people. I think of myself as a loyal person, but I’m not sure that I really am. I’m loyal to my friends in my heart, but because I go off and do my “own thing” so much, I’m not really there for the people I care about.
“I bow and pray to live always in the heart of Buddha’s dharma.”
This is #82 out of a series of 108 daily Buddhist affirmations that I am attempting to translate with my hands tied behind my back (well not really that, but I’m deliberately not seeking out translations on the internet, using only dictionary and grammar).
I would read this eighty-second affirmation as: “I bow and pray to live always in the heart of Buddha’s dharma.”
Unrelatedly…
What I’m listening to right now.
Röyksopp – “What Else Is There?”
[Update: apparently this video is disabled in some parts of the world, due to copyright enforcement. Youtube’s copyright enforcement is incomprehensible to me, but there’s nothing I can do about it. I’ve had so many vidoes that I tried to view that were disabled in Korea, but that had been linked by people I know in the US, where there was apparently no enforcement. This is not the first time I heard of it going other way around. It probably boils down to who’s suing who in what country’s courts. Sorry. There are other versions online that might work. More update (2013-05-29): In doing some blog-maintenance work I found that the video posted here did not exist anymore. I’ve replaced it with a new version that seems roughly the same.]
The lyrics:
It was me on that road But you couldn’t see me Too many lights out, but nowhere near here It was me on that road Still you couldn’t see me And then flashlights and explosions Roads end getting nearer We cover distance but not together I am the storm I am the wonder And the flashlights nightmares And sudden explosions I don’t know what more to ask for I was given just one wish It’s about you and the sun A morning run The story of my maker What I have and what I ache for I’ve got a golden ear I cut and I spear And what else is there Roads and getting nearer We cover distance still not together If I am the storm if I am the wonder Will I have a flashlights nightmares And sudden explosions There’s no room where I can go and You’ve got secrets too I don’t know what more to ask for I was given just one wish
I survived Grace’s vacation. My coworker came back from vacation this week, after having been gone for a little over a month. So my 35+ classes per week will end. I put in a few long days this week getting caught up on getting my grades and student performance comments posted to the computer, and as of 9pm this evening, a new tentative schedule is published where I return to a more normal class load.
I feel like I survived the past month with very little stress, comparatively. I kind of approached it “heads-down” and just plowed through, but it helped that there were no major crises, and no serious issues. Things went more or less smoothly.
It’s worth observing that I’ve reached the conclusion that hagwon work, in crisis mode, is equivalent to Hongnong Elementary in normal mode. And Hongnong Elementary in crisis mode, is like… well, it’s like being on the losing side of a major combat simulation. I’m not talking about workload – obviously, there’s no comparison: hagwon work is WORK, Hongnong elementary wasn’t really work. But I’m talking about atmospherics, stressors, incomprehensible dictates from on high, etc.
I felt like I really accomplished something, this week, having completed the increased class load, and getting my July grades posted, and writing out comments on all my students. And then I came home, went on a little jog in the park at 11 pm, and came home and made some tomato and pesto pasta for a late dinner. Yay.
What I’m listening to, right now.
손담비, “미쳤어” [Son Dam Bi – Michyeosseo “crazy”].
The verb michida (conjugated into an informal past tense michyeosseo in this song) is generally translated as “crazy” but I don’t think that’s accurate at all. It means “crazy” so that captures the semantics, but the pragmatics are quite different. “Crazy” in English is quite mild, and can be used positively quite casually: e.g. “Oh, man, that was a crazy fun time.” Etc. But in Korean, you really can’t use the word that way – not in polite company, anyway. It’s not as strong as “fuck,” but I’ve had Koreans react to my use of the word as an American might to an unexpected use of that word. So I almost want to come up with some different kind of translation for the song title. Not sure what to use, though, that would capture the lower social register of the Korean. Maybe something as simple as “Fucked up.”
Here are the lyrics.
yes yes, no no, which way to go,
2008 e to the r i c , let’s go
내가 미쳤어 정말 미쳤어
너무 미워서 떠나버렸어
너무 쉽게 끝난 사랑
다시 돌아오지 않는단걸 알면서도
미쳤어 내가 미쳤어
그땐 미쳐 널 잡지 못했어
나를 떠떠떠떠떠 떠나 버버버버버 버려
그 짧은 추억만을 남겨둔채로 날
후회했어 니가 가버린뒤
난 더 불행해져 네게 버려진뒤
너를 잃고 싶지않아 줄것이 더 많아 나를 떠나지마라
죽도록 사랑했어 너 하나만을
다시는 볼수없단 미친생각에
눈물만 흐르네 술에 취한밤에 오늘은 잠을 이룰수없어
내가 미쳤어 정말 미쳤어
너무 미워서 떠나버렸어
너무 쉽게 끝난 사랑
다시 돌아오지 않는단걸 알면서도
미쳤어 내가 미쳤어
그땐 미쳐 널 잡지 못했어
나를 떠떠떠떠떠 떠나 버버버버버 버려
그 짧은 추억만을 남겨둔채로 날
사랑이 벌써 식어버린건지
이제와 왜 난 후회하는건지
떠나간자리 혼자남은 난 이렇게 내 가슴은 무너지고
죽도록 사랑했어 너 하나만을
다시는 볼수없단 미친생각에
눈물만 흐르네 술에 취한밤에 오늘은 잠을 이룰수없어
내가 미쳤어 정말 미쳤어
너무 미워서 떠나버렸어
너무 쉽게 끝난 사랑 다시 돌아오지 않는단걸 알면서도
미쳤어 내가 미쳤어
그땐 미쳐 널 잡지 못했어
나를 떠떠떠떠떠 떠나 버버버버버 버려
그 짧은 추억만을 남겨둔채로 날
Rap by Eric:
너 의 memories 이런 delete it 매일밤 부르는건 your name 들리니? 몹시 아팠나봐 이젠 시작이란 말조차 난겁나 open up a chapter man i’m afaid of that 전화기를들어 확인해 니 messages, 떠나줬으면 좋겠어, catch me if you can but i’m out of here
내가 미쳤어 정말 미쳤어
너무 미워서 떠나버렸어
너무 쉽게 끝난 사랑 다시 돌아오지 않는단걸 알면서도
미쳤어 내가 미쳤어
그땐 미쳐 널 잡지 못했어
나를 떠떠떠떠떠 떠나 버버버버버 버려
그 짧은 추억만을 남겨둔채로 날
Koreans often make hyperbolic statements extolling the virtues of one or another of Korea’s historical accomplishments, and, like nationalist narratives anywhere, they are often rather implausible, or at the least, fudge the truth.
But one thing that I completely agree with (and speaking as a linguist) is that their writing system, hangeul (or hangul or “Hangle” as my student spelled it in an essay the other day) is utterly remarkable – by far the most logical writing system in general use by any people on planet Earth. Arguably, it was the first time a writing system was made “scientifically” – by a committee of scholars put together by King Sejong the Great in the 15th century, after getting fed up with the difficulty of promoting literacy in a language written using ideographs borrowed from an unrelated language (i.e. Chinese characters – which is, for example, how the Japanese still write their language, today).
If I were tasked with developing a writing system for some newly discovered human language from scratch, I would almost undoubtedly start with hangeul as a base, and then develop whatever new jamo were needed to cover whatever sounds that might exist in that new language but that don’t exist in Korean, and build from there.
Hangeul uniquely captures at least two aspects of human phonation that most writing systems fail at (including, most notably, the IPA (the International Phonetic Alphabet) which is supposed to be the be-all and end-all of scientific writing systems): 1) hangeul is at least partially featural (there are progressive graphic relationships between related sounds); 2) it transparently indicates syllabicity.
I particularly fantasize that this last element of hangeul could be incorporated into the English writing system. Despite the fact that the syllable (or, alternately, the mora, depending on the language – there are some technical differences in the two concepts) is central to the way spoken languages work, no other writing system so transparently shows syllable divisions. So while American schoolchildren struggle with the concept of syllable (and syllabification) well into high school, explaining the idea of “syllable” to a literate Korean first-grader is trivial.
Even the supposed inconsistencies of hangeul, from a phonetic standpoint, end up reflecting morpho-phonological characteristics of the Korean language when viewed from higher up the “generative” chain, so to speak.
So, while there are many points on which I would challenge the Korea-centric narratives put forth in the media here, or in public education, I have no quibbles with the notion that “when Sejong made Hangle” was one of the greatest moments in world cultural history.
“I bow and pray to live always in the Buddha’s arms.”
This is #81 out of a series of 108 daily Buddhist affirmations that I am attempting to translate with my hands tied behind my back (well not really that, but I’m deliberately not seeking out translations on the internet, using only dictionary and grammar).
…
79. 가장 큰 재앙이 미움, 원망이라는 것을 알게되어 감사한 마음으로 절합니다.
“I bow with a thankful heart and become aware that the greatest misfortune is hatred [and] resentment.”
80. 가장 큰 힘이 사랑이라는 것을 알게되어 감사한 마음으로 절합니다.
“I bow with a thankful heart and become aware that the most powerful thing is love.”
81. 항상 부처님의 품 안에서 살기를 발원하며 절합니다.
I would read this eighty-first affirmation as: “I bow and pray to live always in the Buddha’s arms.”
The pattern changes now – the biggest shift in the main clause since the start. Fortunately, the ending -며 [myeo] isn’t very challenging: it just means something like “and” or “while” – hence, “I bow and pray…” or “I bow, [while] praying…” It’s a concatenator (which abound in Korean).
“I bow with a thankful heart and become aware that the most powerful thing is love.”
This is #80 out of a series of 108 daily Buddhist affirmations that I am attempting to translate with my hands tied behind my back (well not really that, but I’m deliberately not seeking out translations on the internet, using only dictionary and grammar).
… 78. 가장 큰 축복이 자비심이라는 것을 알게되어 감사한 마음으로 절합니다. “I bow with a thankful heart and become aware that the greatest blessing is compassion.” 79. 가장 큰 재앙이 미움, 원망이라는 것을 알게되어 감사한 마음으로 절합니다. “I bow with a thankful heart and become aware that the greatest misfortune is hatred [and] resentment.” 80. 가장 큰 힘이 사랑이라는 것을 알게되어 감사한 마음으로 절합니다.
I would read this eightieth affirmation as: “I bow with a thankful heart and become aware that the most powerful thing is love.”
Like some kind of Beatles song. But this translation marks a new milestone. I knew with 100% confidence what this meant – no dictionary, no checking. Just plain obvious. Having the pattern of the preceding helps.
“I bow with a thankful heart and become aware that the greatest misfortune is hatred [and] resentment.”
This is #79 out of a series of 108 daily Buddhist affirmations that I am attempting to translate with my hands tied behind my back (well not really that, but I’m deliberately not seeking out translations on the internet, using only dictionary and grammar).
… 77. 자연이 우리들의 스승이라는 것을 알게되어 감사한 마음으로 절합니다. “I bow with a thankful heart and become aware that nature is our teacher.” 78. 가장 큰 축복이 자비심이라는 것을 알게되어 감사한 마음으로 절합니다. “I bow with a thankful heart and become aware that the greatest blessing is compassion.” 79. 가장 큰 재앙이 미움, 원망이라는 것을 알게되어 감사한 마음으로 절합니다.
I would read this seventy-ninth affirmation as: “I bow with a thankful heart and become aware that the greatest misfortune is hatred [and] resentment.”
“I bow with a thankful heart and become aware that the greatest blessing is compassion.”
This is #78 out of a series of 108 daily Buddhist affirmations that I am attempting to translate with my hands tied behind my back (well not really that, but I’m deliberately not seeking out translations on the internet, using only dictionary and grammar).
… 76. 자연이 생명 순환의 법칙이라는 것을 알게되어 감사한 마음으로 절합니다. “I bow with a thankful heart and become aware that nature follows the law of life cycles.” 77. 자연이 우리들의 스승이라는 것을 알게되어 감사한 마음으로 절합니다. “I bow with a thankful heart and become aware that nature is our teacher.” 78. 가장 큰 축복이 자비심이라는 것을 알게되어 감사한 마음으로 절합니다.
I would read this seventy-eighth affirmation as: “I bow with a thankful heart and become aware that the greatest blessing is compassion.”
This seems a little bit cliche, and I have a hard time contextualizing (conceptualizing) “blessing” – that’s a strictly athiest’s handicap, I realize. By “cliche,” perhaps all I mean is that it doesn’t seem very insightful. Also, I may prefer translating 자비심 as “sympathy” or even “empathy” over the word compassion.
The sun is out. It de-motivates me, because it means it will be beastly hot out (since it will do nothing to abate the humidity). I was planning on taking a day trip somewhere, today, but seeing that blue sky and sun makes me think I’m happier with just cuddling up next to my airconditioner. I know that’s a world-fleeing cop-out. What can I offer in my defense?
I went out to dinner with coworkers after work on Friday, and I think I finally managed to convey to them just how boring a person I really am. I’m not sure if this is a relief, or just depressing.
“I bow with a thankful heart and become aware that nature is our teacher.”
This is #77 out of a series of 108 daily Buddhist affirmations that I am attempting to translate with my hands tied behind my back (well not really that, but I’m deliberately not seeking out translations on the internet, using only dictionary and grammar).
… 75. 자연에 순응하면 몸과 마음이 편안하다는 것을 알게되어 감사한 마음으로 절합니다. “I bow with a thankful heart and become aware of the tranquility of body and mind as they accommodate [the demands of] nature.” 76. 자연이 생명 순환의 법칙이라는 것을 알게되어 감사한 마음으로 절합니다. “I bow with a thankful heart and become aware that nature follows the law of life cycles.” 77. 자연이 우리들의 스승이라는 것을 알게되어 감사한 마음으로 절합니다.
I would read this seventy-seventh affirmation as: “I bow with a thankful heart and become aware that nature is our teacher.”
There are pigeons that keep crashing into my windows. What are they trying to teach me?
“I bow with a thankful heart and become aware that nature follows the law of life cycles.”
This is #76 out of a series of 108 daily Buddhist affirmations that I am attempting to translate with my hands tied behind my back (well not really that, but I’m deliberately not seeking out translations on the internet, using only dictionary and grammar).
… 74. 무지개의 황홀함을 알게되어 감사한 마음으로 절합니다. “I bow with a thankful heart and become aware of the ecstacy of rainbows.” 75. 자연에 순응하면 몸과 마음이 편안하다는 것을 알게되어 감사한 마음으로 절합니다. “I bow with a thankful heart and become aware of the tranquility of body and mind as they accommodate [the demands of] nature.” 76. 자연이 생명 순환의 법칙이라는 것을 알게되어 감사한 마음으로 절합니다.
I would read this seventy-sixth affirmation as: “I bow with a thankful heart and become aware that nature follows the law of life cycles.”
Once again, I took some liberties in trying to translate this. There’s no word “follows” in the above – the phrase is, literally, roughly something like “…become aware of [the fact] that nature is a law of life cycle(s).” The nominalized copula suffix -이라는 것- fulfills the “[the fact] that… is” role, but I think “follows” captures the meaning better in English. I’m just pleased I was even able to recognize and more or less understand the convoluted use of the copula – this is so common in Korean but I’m still really bad at recognizing what’s going on.
I’ve decided to dedicate my little “holiday” to being eremetic and trying to “study”: study Korean, study my various literary pursuits, study the monkey mind (aka trying to meditate).
My friends and coworkers no doubt would find this a stunningly boring way to spend a holiday, but I am so often a rather unsocial person, and I’ve reached a sort of general acceptance and possibly even comfort level (meaning a most-of-the-time acceptance, and ambivalent comfort level, I suppose) with my mostly solitary nature.
I’m not sure if this “solitary nature” is part of the “nature” referred to above in the affirmation.
