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Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance

Instead of planning lessons like some may think I should be doing, just five minutes ago in an empty classroom, I finished reading “Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance.”

I am not making a “review” of it, and I don’t even know if I can recommend it to anyone. At such a strange moment in my life that is occuring right now, to have had this book come into my existence is just dumbfounding. I am greatly humbled, comforted, and maybe a bit terrified of the honesty that it contains. Truly unexplainable. I even feel now as I write this that I am somehow doing the work a disservice. Perhaps some disjointed thoughts will satiate my desire to express something about the effect of this book:

-predictions, answers, and judgements are dishonest?

-immediately after finishing it and walking through the halls and seeing familiar faces, I cannot intellectually grasp exactly what is happening?

-there is only one and it is everything?

-quality is a direction?

-quality is a combination of care, intent, and freedom?

-most people trick themselves into thinking they don’t know?

-I want a motorcycle?

Is this worth your time to read? I am only writing this entry because compared to the other events that I have written about, this book is one of the most significant. To not have it in my blog would be to limit the blog itself and the understanding of the readers significantly. I have to write it as much as I need to eat again.

Anything beyond moment-to-moment experience is the fickle clouds of our imaginations.

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