In Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, Robert Pirsig differentiates between what he calls ‘Classical understanding’ and ‘Romantic understanding’, in part, by using the illustration of a handful of sand.

Classical understanding is concerned with the piles and the basis for sorting and interrelating them. Romantic understanding is directed toward the handful of sand before the sorting begins. Both are valid ways of looking at the world although irreconcilable with each other.

What has become an urgent necessity is a way of looking at the world that does violence to neither of these two kinds of understanding and unites them into one.

I don’t know if Pirsig had the tradition of making mandala’s out of sand in mind when he wrote these words, since it seems as if such monks have united these understandings.

These mandala’s made the news this week when a young boy danced in such a mandala at Union Station in Kansas City, MO. (See Boy Destroys Monks' Sand Art At Union Station, for more details.)

It reminded me of a skit I saw back in college. The announcer said ‘REALISM’, and a man came out a mimed unsuccessfully trying to pick up some weights. The announcer then said ‘IDEALISM’, and the man mimed picking up the weights with ease. The two were repeated a couple times, and then the announcer said ‘EXISTENTIALISM’. The man mimed carrying the barbells over his shoulder, turning around and knocking over ‘REALISM’, hearing the noise, turning the other direction to see what had happened and knocking over ‘IDEALISM’.

Was this what happened with the young boys dance? No, part of the tradition of the sand mandala’s is to sweep up the sand, and put it in a nearby river. It is a reminder that nothing lasts forever. The boy was bringing that reminder a little bit ahead of schedule.

It makes me think of the great poem by W.H. Auden, Musee des Beaux Arts,

How, when the aged are reverently, passionately waiting
For the miraculous birth, there always must be
Children who did not specially want it to happen, skating
On a pond at the edge of the wood:

Is there something we can learn about our best-laid plans, about how nothing lasts forever, or about suffering? I find the comments to the article about this on Anderson Cooper’s blog

On parenting:

“His mom should have had more of an eye on him and more control over him! Some people just let their kids run wild and don't pay enough attention to them!!”

“That little boy spent some minutes away from his Mother, and I bet she'd be the first one to b*tch and moan if he was snatched by someone looking to hurt a little kid. Both should be punished.”

“Good parenting there, mom. Nice way to teach accountability by picking up the kid and skedaddling.”

On the media:

“I mean really, do you feel these topics are worthy the attention of the populance?

It seems to me there are many more worthy topics in the news at present. Like for instance, the passing of the War Funding Bill, Senator Clinton's No Vote on the contentious Iraq supplemental bill, the upcoming meeting with Iran and World Diplomats, US Aid Arrives in Lebanon, North Korea test missiles, et al.”

To a person that seems to get some of the message of the art and the incident:

When someone hurts us we should write it in sand so the winds of forgiveness can erase it away but, when someone does something good for us we should write it in stone where no wind can ever erase it.

One final quote to pull it all together:

The Moon Cannot be Stolen

Ryokan, a Zen master, lived the simplest kind of life in a little hut at the foot of a mountain. One evening a thief visited the hut only to discover there was nothing to steal.
Kyokan returned and caught him. "You may have come a long way to visit me, " he told the prowler, "and you should not return empty-handed. Please take my clothes as a gift."
The thief was bewildered. He tool the clothes and slunk away.
Ryokan sat naked, watching the moon. "Poor fellow," he mused, "I wish I could give him this beautiful moon."