Thoughts

Luxury

Luxury is not a day spent by a winter fireplace and fur blankets.
It's coming home out of the cold.

Luxury is not calling a cab when it rains.
It's having a towel to dry off.

Luxury is a consolation to hardships, not an avoidance of them.


The point is that having too much to shield us from hardship is not doing us a lick of good.
This idea goes beyond appreciating what we have and not taking things for granted.

Those false luxuries, we *can't* appreciate them and we ought not to!
Because they are not letting us experience life as we were meant to.
Real luxury restores us to a comfortable state, *after* we've overcome adverse conditions!

We would feel better to go through a bit of mud and come out clean.

Problems
People need problems.

If they don't have any, they'll end up creating some just to give their mind something to do.
Because that is the function of the brain, to solve problems.

The supposed need for a brain is to work out the everyday challenge of securing food, avoiding predation, sheltering the body, and with what's left: put penis in vagina.
Take away these needs, and instead of powering down - it can't, the brain sets to work on some higher ambitions. Now it sets about looking for respect, accomplishment, entertainment, love.

These more complicated challenges can keep the brain occupied for longer.
But it's hard, frustrating work. The brain can find a shortcut and cheat itself: why do all that work to have the real thing, when an artificial substitute feels as good, most times even better - at any time, with little effort. The brain can't distinguish genuine benefits from empty ones: the chemical response fools it. It can take a long road of self-destruction to weigh the pros and cons objectively.

Home
A mechanic asked me if I was running away from home.

It's funny, 'running away from home' almost means its opposite: 'running away to find a home'. Kind of like "I couldn't care less' meaning the same as 'I could care less'.


Searching for home is a theme through my life.

To be a young immigrant.
To be homesick,
without knowing where home is,
or what it really feels like.

All I know is I'm away from home.

I begin to search and realize
I have been homeless long before
ever stepping out the door.

The longer I am away.
Homelessness grows inside me.

Somewhere is a home for me.
It can no longer exist out there, but only in here.

Home becomes an abstraction.
Home is an idea.
Art is home.
Music is home.

in a dusty galaxy at the frontier of space 
i will rest my search.

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When I worked retail, cashiers would ask my zip code. I told them I didn't have one, I slept under bridges. I wasn't sleeping outside then, yet I was only half-joking.

I wonder how many homeless depressed people live in houses? Does having a house really mean you're not homeless? Rent a room for $500 - $1000 a month and have a new life? Simply because you pay money? What about community, friendship, support, and making a positive contribution to your environment?
---

This song 草原上升起不落的太阳 The Never-Setting Sun Rises on the Prairie, I've been singing through Texas on the highway. It's about Mongolia. I think of Texas as an American equivalent to the grasslands of Mongolia where horses run free. I feel like those are my roots and I am one of the horses.

My grandfather named me 俊 Jun. It means smart / eminent / handsome / talented. My grandfather was a respected school principal and well versed in linguistics: he also intended a double meaning.

The phonetically same character 骏 Jun describes an fine stallion, which in his Mongolian heritage (达斡尔族 Da Wu Er tribe) when said of a person, 骏马 (stallion) signifies he is an exemplary person and a leader to his entire tribe.

http://image.tianjimedia.com/uploadImages/2014/026/0T2GB9Z9ON8Q.jpg

Truly, he had grand aspirations for me when I was born. Because of my name and its meaning to my grandfather, I identify as a horse running proud and free.

Blue blue sky the white clouds float
Under white clouds horses ruuuuuuuuun!
Crack back the whip, sound carries four directions
Hundred birds take flight.

If there is someone come ask me
What place is this?
I will proudly answer him:
This is my homeland.

Here's a taste of how it's actually supposed to sound:

To sing the line 'this is my homeland' fills me with emotion. I want to feel that way. It's one of the strongest desires to have a life like the person in the song. To be strong, to be with my people, to be home.

This land is not the Khan's. It's not the country's land. It's mine. And anyone you ask in the village will answer the same. It is everybody's here.

This land is my land, this land is your land.

I imagine filming a movie scene where a traditional village is gathered under a huge teepee around bonfire, singing this song together. First the chief sings because he is the leader, he has foremost ownership of the land. But then a woman sings, because she has the might of her men to make her safe and she weaves the clothes and prepares the food. A boy sings, because he will carry the future. Each one sings the same line, but it has a personal meaning that is unique to each of them.

Then everyone sings together, each member of the tribe feeling that they have a role in making their homeland great, and each one rewarded by the land's beauty and abundance. We work the land, we make it great, and we take pride in the environment we have created.