To read this book, start with

Entry 1 (1972)

There are a thousand different ways of being. I knew that and yet occasionally wondered if maybe there really was only one right way. Bu...

Entry III.9 (1994)

It is a large animal.  It walks on all fours.  It is walking on a path through the jungle forest.  Not much of the animal can be seen through the dusky light.  Its body moves like a shadow.  In the twilight, all that can be seen is the black movement.

As it walks, it moves its head from side to side emitting a low growl.  The creature waits impatiently for an animal to cross its path so the growl can rise to a roar as it first terrifies then devours its prey.


I feel myself as the creature walking through the jungle forest tensely poised to lash out at whatever crosses my path.  But nothing crosses. Nothing stirs.  I am angry at a foe that does not show its face.  I am aware that the foe may no longer even exist.  But that does not abate my restless searching, straining to find the one who hurt me in the past.


In frustration, I let out a growl louder than I intended.  I do not want to scare my enemy away.  But the disappointment of not finding them is almost more than I can bear.  I resolve to growl more softly as I return to pacing the circular path.


Sometimes, a rabbit leaps out.  My anger peaks as I lunge, giving my rage full force as I pounce—only to discover it was just a bunny.  I don’t want to eat a bunny.  I want to destroy my enemy.


Later, I come to a fork in the path.  To the left, I see a claw mark indicating which direction I followed the last time I came this way.  I claw a new mark as I move to the right.


Quite far down the path, I come to a sign. “Tahunda,” it says, “you’ve been this way before.  Your enemy is dead but you keep forgetting.”  I shake my head and shaggy mane in barely controlled frustration.  I remember that the sign is right, but I am too angry to keep remembering.


I growl and pace on still looking for my enemy.  I have already forgotten the words on the sign as I am too busy watching for movement.