Summer 2010

Summer 2010

5. 8.2010
Pu-her sunrise
I sit on green grass, sprinkled with tiny pink wildflowers, in a little park in Marfa, Texas, drinking Trinity pu-ehr tea and watching the sun rise over the mountains in Mexico. The air is sweet with desert sage and the tea is thick and rich like liqueur, like patina on desert granite, like lacquer on art in Florence. It goes down warm and earthy in the early morning desert cold. My ears tingle with the bite of the cold air and my fingers are stiff.

I have an early morning conversation with Bink, another volunteer, who shares his perspective on family life. There is something so frail, so beautiful and tender about being a human being that sometimes it almost breaks my heart with tenderness simply to talk to another person and see their humanity exposed. I hold my clay tea pot to warm my hands and watch the steam rise from my chipped porcelain cup. I wonder about the suffering in the world and if it is our lot as humans or if there is a way to alleviate this suffering, to some degree.

Last night, while the rest of the world drank and partied in Mara Texas at the film festival, I had no desire for that, I looked at the moon, felt the wind, sat beside a fire playing my guitar. This morning, while the rest of the world slept, I watched the stars fade. And I felt like someone from another planet, shipwrecked here on Earth, destined to watch the fellows around me with benevolent detachment, yet always looking across an inseparable gulf of difference. I am just different. And that is my lot I suppose. I hear a call and feel a pull to nature. I heed the call.

5.13.2010
Luminous
Santa Fe, New Mexico, at 7000 feet, sitting beside a clear cascade sparkling in the early morning light and singing to me with infinite voices that whisper happiness and joy. The sun is warm on my skin and the air cold. A little pond with lily pads and reeds in front of me, a big mug of coffee with cream and sugar warms my hand and glides down my throat like nectar into my belly and warms me from the inside. Even in this cold I want to take off my clothes and let the sun and wind caress me and sink into my bones, I want to feel the earth against every curve of my body. There is nothing here but happiness, peace, joy. I am on the road again, freedom sings to me, calls me, lulls me into a state of peace and happiness.

(This is the first chance I have had to connect with email, I am going to send out a few back emails to catch everyone up on my sojourn into nature and freedom and I have added a few friends to the missives. Enjoy.)

Avanti!