Archives for posts with tag: excerpts

(originally written in my moleskin notebook on way to Kyongju approx. 11:25 am UST, Thursday, February 11, 2011)

Waiting in DongDaegu train station – catching the KTX (high speed) train to see Laura in Singyeongju.

People milling about, rushing to catch their trains & waiting.

I’m waiting.

I laugh to think I’ve really just begun all this & already my mind is starting to wrry about next steps – ticket home, job, what else?

Feeling like I’m not exactly relaxed and remind myself this isn’t about relaxation it isn’t really abouthaving a good time either, is it.

It is about doing something and not just doing what I’ve been doing.

Can’t get over how relaxed the brain is, how strong the body feels. Like on the outside, there are so many new sensory/sensual experiences that on the inside thing just kind of hum along.

I wonder about these men leaving home to find things, find themselves, find a new home.

I think about Buddha, Sidhartha leaving his wife, child, kingdom to understand, to become Buddha.

I wonder – is this possible, for me, I think mayeb there are parts of me missing or badly wired or maybe just put together wrong.

I feel at home here, like just over there is my house, my bedroom.

I’m seeing things in the micro, the nano & I can’t really see a lot of differences.

I mean, the differences I see are superficial.

I think maybe I should feel lost – out of time & place, but I don’t.

I’m grounded.

I know where my towel is.

I wonder about racism – how people let little things allow hate to seep in through cracks.

Maybe I’m at home here ‘cuz I’m an outsiders & that is pretty much I am at home too.

What do you do with a person who lives, breathes the paradox and defies the Aristotelian logic?

Maybe this is why it was time.

Maybe I just had to embrace my defiance of the labels more, embrace the position further as an outsider, as someone who truly belong? Someone who can comment critically on things around me?

Thinking about Stephen, who once said to me that anywhere I went I found my niche. I think about what I said to him those years ago, that they are true now – that I’m never fully at home, that I never truly belong, that I don’t find a niche so mush as carve one violently out for myself to be.

Now, I’m older, I think maybe this is still how I do it. Only now I try to make it prettier. Homier.

There is this part of me, this secret place, that, sitting here, all I want to do is call you up on the phone & ask to come home.

I’m looking at this whole thing from a position of priveldge – a smile & nod will go a long way in life and I do both brilliantly.

A part of me is invisible, sitting here, waiting, I can’t be seen, don’t stick out.

I could look like anyone. I am anyone.

I have no expectations.

I feel free of burdens, my heart is light – although, it feels more compassionate, bigger. I can feel a past of it hurting with a pain I can’t describe or understand.

I call the pain “estrangement”.

I want you to disect my silence.

I want my heart to heal, finally.

It is cold here, like on the mountain.

On the train – hopefully I’m the right one.

Could Buddha have done what he did if had stayed home? Is enlightenment only possible away from the minutae of life?

For me, it is the minutae that makes my life mine.

I think, when I sit, kneel, walk, when i do the dishes, sweep the floor – this is my life, enlightenment. should be possible with all of it – it is minutae not miasma, right?

Mountains, farm land, city, farms so close, no ‘burbs between.

I guess there isn’t space.

The separation is acute – no sliding scale land-wise.

(end of excerpt)

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(originally written in my moleskin notebook on the path up the mountain, approx. 4:25 pm UTC/KST Wednesday, February 9, 2011)

Rain & grey of yesterday washed away traces of winter – wake in the morning to find Spring.

People line up in cars to the first spring wash, mechanics are buzzing with tune-ups and fixes. Shops turn their thoughts to Valentine’s . Birds to laying eggs and my thoughts to you.

Me, I get in 1h of yoga – mostly sun salutations and motified sun salutations. Stretch & breath, stretch & breath.

Infused with energy this morning – after the daily practise, eat then straight into the shower. It isn’t motivation so much as – how I want to live my life?

Like this, like this, like this.

Sitting here now – not at the top nor at the bottom, enjoying sunlight, wind in dead leaves, occassional bird song – I seem so far from the city I know is only steps away.

It boggles my mind that someone would live here and not come here & enjoy moments of precious quiet.

I could be anywhere in time, in space.

I could be anyone – these accidental things about me fall away.

The things that make me, me unique, they don’t matter here – the mountain doesn’t care.

Cold creeps under my jacket & into my fingers – taken off my mittens to write, so it’s getting chilly. Sun begins to set.

I think mountains are pretty much the same where ever you are in the world – same for the people who climb them.

I am on a mountain around the world from you – a different day, a different time – you are asleep and maybe you dream of me, on a mountain, a world away.

Sometimes, I think maybe I dreamed you.

I don’t know exactly how I got here or exactly what I’m doing – my plans are liquid – they flow, ebb, freeze, flow, reflect and do it all over again.

(end of excerpt)