Tuesday, June 5, 2012

what's in the bbox?

as i prepare to pack my bags to the Phil., i've been mulling over some questions that i've never asked before. what i mean is that my consciousness has changed in ways that challenge my old habits. i have become aware that there are some things i no longer want to practice like the mindless buying of pasalubongs that, while they may reflect my thoughtfulness, are really things that have been made, for example, in sweat shops in China. and that means almost everything! so the dilemma of what to take home for pasalubongs?

Sunday, June 3, 2012

A Middle-World Practice

it's never too late to start again. today, i went for a long walk by myself in my neighborhood. i noticed the old towering redwoods, liquid amber, maple, pepper trees, gingko, birch, willow, acacia...and the blooming shrubs and bushes - hydraengeas, roses, lemons, clematis, yarrow, willow, salvia, lavender and more. i looked up and praised the horse-tails and the blue sky. the warm sun bathe me. the streets were quiet. the wild blackberry bushes are pregnant. the neighbors' vegetable gardens are a delightful assortment of artichokes, sweet peas, tomatoes, basil, herbs.

i have lived in this neighborhood for 29 years. but i wasn't paying attention. walking around the neighborhood was just for my fitness. oh sure, i've noticed how it has changed over the years -- more houses, more development, more grocery stores, more people and cars, more of everything. except Land that hasn't been developed.

recently, i made a conscious decision to cultivate my relationship with this piece of land. it is a conscious decision because prior to this, my idea of land, as in homeland, has been located elsewhere where my body isn't. it makes sense that that my love of home-land, must include the earth beneath my feet.

and perhaps that is the point of developing this practice: the earth beneath my feet is literally my homeland.

as i was walking i thought of how i've spent the last three decades growing my intellect. read hundreds of books. learned academic jargon. wrote and published a lot of words. participated in online listserves. everything has been about words.

what about the language older than words? what has been my connection to this language? how do i reclaim it and befriend it?

i feel the answer closing in on me.