For about twenty years I have been carrying around a copy of The Narrow Road to the Interior by Matsuo Basho (translated by Sam Hamill).  I bought it when I was but a young impressionable undergrad at the urging of Gary Holthaus, probably by my all time favorite college professor.  Professor Holthaus ran The Center for the American West at the University of Colorado at that time.  In those days I was obsessed with the literature of the American West and Gary Holthaus seemed to know everyone involved with that scene. On top of being a soft-spoken man of unbelievable depth, conscience, and humility he is an accomplished writer and poet himself.  Professor Holthaus is worth a read if you are into the the American West. He’s one of those people who is perpetually on a quest to make the world a better place.  There have been many successes on that front.  One of those successes was making my world a better place now and then.  His classes and knowing him in general fundamentally changed the way I look at the world. He also gave me a chance to be graced by the presence quite a few amazing authors, poets and thinkers including my favorite poet-philosopher-essayist-environmentalist, Gary Snyder.  Wow!

Anyway, he suggested this book because the introduction was “superb”, in his words.  If I still revisit the book regularly even after twenty years there must be truth in what he said.  It is a pretty good intro and a great book overall if you like 17th century Japanese travelogue interspersed with haiku.  It’s a niche market, I know, but I am in that niche.  My favorite part of the book is the first four lines.  The rest of the book has been an acquired taste.  But, the first four lines got me from the get go. They capture the feeling I have every spring (and regularly in any season, for that matter) perfectly.  Those lines epitomize the way I look at life.  On the off chance that the lines might spark something in you as well, I offer them to you:

The moon and sun are eternal travelers. 

Even the years wander on.

Years adrift in a boat, or in old age leading a tired horse into the years,

every day is a journey, and the journey itself is home.

From the earliest times there have always been some who perished along the road.

Still, I have always been drawn by windblown clouds into a life of wandering.

I love that.  I wish I could read Japanese well enough to feel the nuances it has in it’s original form.  Still, Hamill’s translation gets me every time. Sometimes I wonder if it’s possible that he improved on the original.  I hope Basho’s sentiment strikes a chord with you too.

Thank you Gary Holthaus…wherever you are!!!!!!  And, thank you Matsuo Basho.  This year I get to enjoy your little book in you home country and that has made it even better.

– The Green Tea Dreamer