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Chapter 23 - Idylwood Park From my house by the lake, I can walk straight, then turn right, and reach a small park, Idylwood Park. It is a very, very small park. Though the park is small, it still has a wide stretch of green grass which is connected to Lake Sammamish. In the park there are tall trees, a pier, bushes, and barbecue grills. One may hear bird calls and find tranquility by the lakeside. This small park sparkles with the gleam of cleanliness. Of course, one cannot compare this Idylwood Park to the massive National Parks of the United States. The National Parks have their own unique features, as well as their well-preserved wilderness from primeval times, and are usually famous for their enormous size. They have mountains with huge precipices of ice, thousands and tens of thousands of waterfalls, big roaring rivers, boulder-filled valleys, endless, grassy plains, and spectacular canyons stretching seemingly forever. This kind of wilderness is, indeed, worth visiting. Yet small parks also have their own uniqueness. They are the shadows of National Parks, mild and timid, hiding in corners of cities and gladly making everyone happy. In winter, when the chilly wind is blowing, there are few visitors in the park. But in summer, when the lakeside sun is warm enough to tan the white men's shoulders, Idylwood Park is in high spirits and is as busy as a market place. The green grass is filled with white folks tanning in the sunshine. At the edge of the lake adults teach children to swim. In the middle of the lake are all kinds of boats-motor boats, speed boats, sail boats, inflatable rafts, canoes, and yachts -and there are even more people water-skiing. This Idylwood Park is very popular; its parking lot is full of many kinds of cars. There are all kinds of recreational activities going on in Idylwood Park: small scale "wild ball races" and "cub scout camping," small picnics and family barbecues. Everyone likes Idylwood Park. There, happiness is like the fragrance of flowers, radiating out to everyone's heart. I will occasionally walk on the sandy beach, go into the water, stroll back and forth under the white blossoms, or sit quietly contemplating under the green shade of the trees. I like to put on my swimming trunks and enter Lake Sammamish, as if I am taking a holy bath purifying myself. The summer sun also turns my skin darker, making me appear stronger. The sun Lake Sammamish, Redmond, makes me feel as if I am entering into the light of eternal life. Those blazing sun's rays, meltingly hot, are like a shower of light, an experience of uniting with the light of the universe. This water of Lake Sammamish seems to be flowing rapidly, excitedly toward me, flowing over my heart, and becoming the blood in my body, like a Sanskrit chanting. In Idylwood Park, amid all the gaiety, I admit that I am comparatively cool and calm. I know that I am not a truly mirthful person, and I will never become a truly mirthful person. I can never enter deeply into this worldly merriment. However, I deeply and truly understand the knowledge of being neither sad nor glad. With every single matter, I can contemplate it and learn its true knowledge, but I never worry over it, or become over burdened with anxiety by it. I become even calmer; success or failure, winning or losing does not worry me. Not that I am indifferent but that, after trying my best, I leave the rest up to the Supreme One. It is a small contentment of mine. I look at my life as a journey with some small pleasures to enjoy. Like small Idylwood Park, I am learning to know it carefully, then to know equally carefully the many new friends there. I enjoy their friendly glances, their "Hi's," and their greeting smiles. These people are very nice and friendly. In this park, nobody is a businessman and no one is in a hurry. Someone wants me to learn an old Sanskrit mantra. Someone wants me to learn to do business, to use my knowledge to make profit. Someone wants me to learn politics, to be a leader so that I can glorify my ancestors. These people are actually very amusing. All their words to me are like pages and pages of jokes. I understand their worries, merriment, ignorance, jealousy, desires, and disappointment-yet, honestly, all these left me a long time ago. They are really insignificant, truly insignificant ... I look at the crowds who are learning pain and suffering. Aren't they very child- like? Their pitiful, small matters have been blown out of proportion, the many supposed injustices, rights and wrongs, are like shadow plays in my eyes. Idylwood Park, a small, small park where I contemplate; Idylwood Park, I think of the many events that are laughable; Idylwood Park, has flames of cleanliness. I am very thankful of the higher beings in the heavens, the highest Consciousness of the Cosmos, for giving me a Lake Sammamish and an Idylwood Park. Idylwood Park, a small, small park where I contemplate ...
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