In a Kyoto tea garden, where the stepping stones divide, someone has placed a small stone bound with dark cord. It is the size of a fist. You could step over it without breaking stride. No one does.
"The stone alone is only a stone. The cord is what makes it speak." And attentiveness is what allows it to be read—and hopefully respected. Makes good sense that this would have started in the tearoom path, where the irregular arrangement of flagstones demands paying attention to the ground.
Well spotted. That was an editorial note from my drafting file (Nth version) that should never have survived to publication. Removed now, with some embarrassment. Thank you for reading past it to the boundaries themselves.
"The stone alone is only a stone. The cord is what makes it speak." And attentiveness is what allows it to be read—and hopefully respected. Makes good sense that this would have started in the tearoom path, where the irregular arrangement of flagstones demands paying attention to the ground.
Interesting
Was this written with AI? The reason I ask is that there’s an odd sentence beginning with the word “optional”.
Nevertheless, a wonderful story about boundaries.
Well spotted. That was an editorial note from my drafting file (Nth version) that should never have survived to publication. Removed now, with some embarrassment. Thank you for reading past it to the boundaries themselves.
wabi sabi...