The Zen of Zin

It’s definitely been longer than I intended since I posted last. I’ve been researching cameras. I’d like to provide you with pictures taken first hand by yours truly. Furthermore, I’ve been setting up the professional stage for marketing myself as a writer/journalist—business cards, self-addressed stamped envelopes (SASE for those of you in the biz), and even a shiny new resumé.

But this is all boring stuff of the “behind the scenes.” You’re probably wondering, “where’s the outsider’s view?” Well here it is. It’s something that I’ve been considering for a while. It’s a similie actually. It consists of two things that I hold dear. The first is the momentous thing we call “Life,” and the other is the fabulous thing that I’ve learned so much about and so much from. There isn’t much to it on the surface, but as you get into it, there’s a whole realm of intricasies, complexities, and delicacies involved. I am of course, referring to wine. And the lesson is this: everything you needed to know about life you can learn from wine.

Living is about action. Not passivity. Many drink their wine like they live their lives. So hopefully they’re good drinkers—sensitive, cognizant, and moderate. Those who take their life by the mouthful can’t handle the intoxication. They binge and are sickened, running about in a disillusioned state and have to deal with the hangovers later. I’m not saying life shouldn’t be wild or even crazy at times; I’m saying that you’ll be sorry if you’re not careful to pay close attention to the details, to hang on to them while you can, and let them go when they pass.

My motto these days is to live earnestly fervent... or fervently earnest. I haven’t decided yet. And I learned that from wine. When I drink it, I am partaking in an activity, and I stress the term ACTION because this tasting should not be taken passively. Not by any means. You have to grab the sensations while you can (but not forever; probably more on that in a later post). I don’t sip without knowing the character intimately. Sometimes it’s easy to forget to taste, and to smell, and to look and feel the body and sense the finish (When you’re in it, it’s a lot like good sex. That’s another metaphor, maybe in another post). So try. Try to stay with it. The difference is the same as between hearing and listening. Listening requires attention, awareness.

The finish is an especially interesting thing. You’re not really tasting the presence of anything, but rather the lack, or the loss of a presence. It’s like a spirit that lingers after the body dies. You’re tasting the Nothing of wine. Kind of Zen, right? Try it with the latest zinfindel I tasted, the Zen of Zin, a California wine. You’ll be tasting the Nothing of Zen. Trippy, huh? I’ll leave you to figure that one out.