Friday, July 31, 2009

witness

I walked home. Following the telephone lines through the neighborhood, my weak ankles threatend to give in to the occassional crack splitting the cement path beneath me. This must be what it feels like to learn how to walk; though, I have been walking, without interruption, for 28 years give or take. I have no recollection of my first breath, let alone my first step. Such important moments in one's life and yet there is no memory. Is it important or just a thing that happens, like how we see the sun set and rise? We inhale, we cry, we open our eyes, we crawl and eventually we learn to walk. It is just the ordinary progression of things. Important only because someone or something else is a witness to our birth and if we're lucky, our death. Walking now, I don't know where to rest my gaze. My eyes follow the base of a tree from roots to the weighted ends of leafy branches. I reach up to touch a leaf with the tip of my finger. A small gesture, a quiet hello. There is so much to see, too much, I think. At my feet, an earth worm wriggles its body across the vast expanse of sidewalk, a calm but scorching sea. Picking up a small twig I gently nudge the worm until it is curled around the end hitching a ride a few inches to the dark soil green grass paradise that is my neighbors lawn. "I am your witness," I think to myself. "Will you be mine?"

Duck


I walked to the park yesterday. On my way I stopped and bought some rice pudding which is probably my second new favorite dessert (just under sweet sticky rice with mango). I walked to the park listening to Pema Chodron's, Awakening Compassion. I like what she is saying but I really enjoy listening to her voice. She has a very wise and soothing voice, like a mother... comforting and safe. I walked and appreciated the flowers in people's gardens and the cool fresh air of the late afternoon breeze. At the park, I found a nice spot on the grass in front of the lake. As soon as I sat down a little duck waddled straight up to me. This duck had a purpose, and I really think this purpose involved more than begging for food crumbs. After approaching me, the duck stood about two feet away and stared at me for a while. Then circled me, stood and stared some more, and then walked back down to the water. This was repeated several times. The duck was so close I could have reached out and stroked his feathers if I had wanted to, but I didn't want to scare him away. I enjoyed our quiet and coy exchanged. People passing on the trail in front of us smiled and made a few comments, seeming to enjoying the sight of a girl sitting with a duck. My friend told me that in ancient times the greeks believed that the gods would visit them taking on animal form. I wonder what god this duck happened to be.

Saturday, July 18, 2009

simple twist of fate


this song will forever make me think of paris and...


here i am listening to it on the train to paris from aix en provence.
i never would have imagined the stories it would tell in my life.