Some old things and some new things that I’ve been thinking about recently..

First, flying. I flew a lot over the summer — almost every day. Then all of a sudden, poof, I didn’t fly for a month and a half. Wow! I went absolutely bonkers for it. Mid-October I got to fly around some, but sadly the fix has already worn off! Ahhh! Thankfully the flying I was so lucky to get to do was really, really really good, so it was a big fix and lasted this long. I owe a huge thank you to robert & darla for it, and a huge thank you to shana for coming along and making it about 800 times more beautiful, memorable, and special then it otherwise would’ve been. I’m pretty sure I will actually write a special post, with some pictures and maybe even a video, all about it.

Teaching. How much there is for me to learn about it, what it means for different places, and how to do better at it while working fewer hours.

Love. Man, love makes the world go ’round :)

Crazy future schemes

This poem by Khayyam..

The sky is a belt
woven from our tattered lives.
The mighty river was formed
by all the tears
our eyes have shed.
Hell is a spark from our
searing pain.
Heaven is a breath
drawn from our
moments of peace.

And this poem, which this very special gal introduced me to:

Before you know what kindness really is
you must lose things,
feel the future dissolve in a moment
like salt in a weakened broth.
What you held in your hand,
what you counted and carefully saved,
all this must go so you know
how desolate the landscape can be
between the regions of kindness.
How you ride and ride
thinking the bus will never stop,
the passengers eating maize and chicken
will stare out the window forever.

Before you learn the tender gravity of kindness,
you must travel where the Indian in a white poncho
lies dead by the side of the road.
You must see how this could be you,
how he too was someone
who journeyed through the night with plans
and the simple breath that kept him alive.

Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside,
you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing.
You must wake up with sorrow.
You must speak to it till your voice
catches the thread of all sorrows
and you see the size of the cloth.

Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore,
only kindness that ties your shoes
and sends you out into the day to mail letters and
purchase bread,
only kindness that raises its head
from the crowd of the world to say
it is I you have been looking for,
and then goes with you every where
like a shadow or a friend.

~Naomi Shihab Nye