Greetings from Kyoto! I'm here to fulfill two long-standing dreams.
The first: returning to Japan after 10 years. The second: to show my Mom one of my favorite places in the world and take her where she’s never been before.
Perhaps it is Japan's omnipresent sense of duality, but my attunement to metaphors increases with each turn of the sun.
One of the books I brought along on my travels is Indeterminate Inflorescence, a collection of quotes from the lectures of South Korean poet Lee Seong-bok. On the very first page, we are presented with a justification of the book's title by way of metaphor. Seong-bok asserts that poetry is like Indeterminate Inflorescence:
"We might say poems bloom in 'indeterminate inflorescence' as they grow from concrete to abstract, from secular to sacred. Poetry takes its form in its endless failure to express what language cannot."
Seong-bok explains that there are two ways flowers bloom on a stem: Determinate Inflorescence, where flowers bloom from top to bottom (basipetal), and Indeterminate Inflorescence, where flowers bloom from bottom to top (acropetal).
I lingered on this page as I read it.
I saw myself as a stem, in this moment in time, unsure of which way my flowers will bloom. So much of how I've approached life has been through Determinate Inflorescence; a set of outcomes that must be reached in a very specific manner: education, career, life milestones. The critique is not of the outcomes themselves; after all, I see nothing wrong with getting a good education, enjoying professional success, and starting a family (whatever that looks like for you). It is the fact that it is determined—the only way. Basipetal is limited growth.
Indeterminate Inflorescence, by contrast, is a surrender. You start at the root of the stem, and flowers may bloom in all sorts of unexpected ways. The promise of Indeterminate Inflorescence is unlimited growth. The sky cannot withhold your ambitions and dreams. It's about managing your own process; your own bloom. Though your bloom is highly dependent on the environment, timing, and how much energy it needs. The strongest stem can wither in the winter, leaving no bloom. What may have been the perfect time for some flowers to bloom does not mean it is the perfect time for others. A stem with too many old flowers may not have much energy left to feed the newer ones closer to the top.
This metaphor is prominent as I audit my current conditions. Am I in the right environment? What season am I in? What are my "old flowers" and are they sapping all my energy away?
The task ahead, as I see it, is a parallel exercise in loosening my grip on predetermined outcomes while allowing myself to embrace life's unexpected blooms.
Until next time!
Camilo! Japan has been on my list forever. I love that you took your mom. I want to take my dad. I don’t think I understood the concept but I’m not sleeping well these days 😂