A clear, early start, Anapurana welcomes the ooohing and
awwwing. By seven the sun roasts, thirty
minutes later we’re enveloped in clouds, which is odd because with panoramic
views you don’t know where this fog is coming from. Look down for a second and whoof, we’re
enshrined in some mysterious skekina glory.
The fog thickens gray, all is serene except for Didi who scrubs pans
behind me. The children are off to
school, walking in fog one cannot help but become contemplative. Surely heaven will not be the simply faithful
joyously stumbling around in the clouds chanting, looking for nothing in
particular; Starbucks won’t be necessary anymore, computers, Mexican food, Camels, shoes, the
needs of all will be met with nothing but the presence of divinity.
Am I so delusional to still believe the end is really
here? Only time will tell, thank God it
isn’t much longer. I’ve waited three
years to know if my imagination went horribly awry or this was for sure a
precognitive vision. We’re counting the months now. December 21, any date, bring it on. We’re tired and my back hurts.
Two pieces of toast and two fried eggs, a small pot of black
tea and two and half hours later, breakfast #2.
While rice isn’t filling, it’s the amount that leaves me drowsy and
thinking of bed.
And that is a nice place to be, cool breezes on white cotton
sheets, an occasional paraglider whoops it up, locals carrying bags of cement
below, a book I am enjoying but can’t come around to reading, Segar, Dylan and
my rosewood chillim, there’s no place
like home for the homeless.
It is no coincidence that Mother Theresa started her
ministry in Calcutta at what is certainly the most horrifically evil moment in
history. What, worse than the German
camps? Look at the scale, in India
everything is worse times ten. And in a
cosmologically confirming response, the Creator speaks which was apparently
supposed to be enough awe and might for Mother Theresa, so in the next 50 years she couldn’t feel your
presence? What the hell, dude? It’s the
strangest triad of work, how could she have done anything and felt so much
compassion if she couldn’t sense your presence?
Where did that compassion come from then? Surely you were with the women, but Jesus
Joseph and Mary, what’s with the silent treatment?
Obedience is fine but a pat on the back once in a while
woulda been sufficient. Dude, not good.
Boston. I know a
fella from Maine who had never heard of the band. Ah, Rob is about 40- something I think. Why bring this up here? I don’t know, just thinking of madness,
contradictions, loyalty, made in the image of God, the good and the bad, #$%@
you and this Satan character, you can’t be serious, to know him, to be from the
same branch of the blackthorn, and you understand then, the problem with evil,
who couldn’t know evil better than the other half? Damn.
Well, there has been throughout human history a terrible and unjust
imbalance between the two of you, and an end to your little experiment is
welcome. You created us to expect, to
anticipate, we held to the promises given and the conditions we expect, gee it sounds
almost selfish, like Baptists.
Sorry. Let’s just Maranatha
everything. I know I sound
impatient. It’s not impatience it’s
anticipation, two parts of speech for one.
Anticipating the another life, I don’t care what it’s like, it doesn’t
matter, there’ll be no suffering. How
many people do you know who never
suffered their whole life? Hmm…
So what about the Higgs Boson? Well, it was found in the time a professor I
heard say it would be found. To slowly
rise through the ether, to get sucked over in the bat of an eye, will the
fourth dimension come to us, or us to it?
Perhaps we’ll just keep going, to the eighth and ninth dimensions, where
the air is so rare, where air isn’t necessary.
Two meals before 11am and you don’t want to eat again. The
mid-afternoon sun is hot with a variety of big clouds that don’t stay
around. Rain has fallen at night for the
last three nights, a pattern that ought to change today or tomorrow. Last night in the southeastern sky angry heat
lightening.
A black and white hawk rides the thermal draft back and
forth. Don’t you love doing something
without effort?
Standing on the base of the tower, which is on top of the
kitchen, there is a beautiful view of the Pancreash Valley that goes west to my
left and the Pokhara Valley that goes north.
In the west, thunder rumbles, dark rain clouds stop and go shifting
north, heading east and then without a warning dark angry fog rolls in from the
Pokhara Valley and within minutes a serious downpour that is beginning to taper
off 20 minutes and counting. Strong
winds prevail, very cloudy with fog mingling as if they’re not finished with
their outpouring.
Who doesn’t like to talk about the weather? Here, it’s art class.
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