Alive and well

I'm back in the US and not dead! Actually I'm perfectly alive and intact. More details to come.

Last Reflections

View from Sophie's balcony

This morning I ran to the nearest waterfall, clambered over slippery rocks, stood just a few feet from the roaring cascade. Drenched in spray, acutely aware not to slip into the churning water, completely out of breath from the stone path sprint up the valley, I thought, "Now, I can go."

Tomorrow night I leave for home. This place has left deep impressions in me. I've had beautiful days, challenging days, and some days were totally for the birds. Dear friends, both new and old, have come and gone; some still remain and continue to do wonderful work. I've seen suffering as I could never imagine, felt joy, horror, amazement and peace as I've never experienced. I've been rained on, hit on, swindled, bitten, smitten and smothered with cheese.

My work here, I believe, has some sustainable positive impact. This is the greatest treat I could possibly receive from this journey, and I'm extremely thankful. I hope to come back soon!

Okay... I made up the part about the cheese. But it could happen.

Goodbye, monsoon mold

It's been raining so much, every wood object in the known universe (as far as I can tell) has mold growing on it. Not just innocent penicillin Wonder Bread mold; this is some serious creep into your bed and eat you while you sleep Swamp Thing mold. Gross.

I'm hoping to wrap things up before I head back to the US in a few days. Not quite sure how I feel about that. Funny, I came all the way to India, yet this will be the first time in 6 months that I leave my little 3-mile-radius pocket in the mountains I have come to know as home.

The value of introspection

Hand-painted Tibetan temple, under construction. Order now for just nine easy monthly installments! Bottom right: Three locals in a congo line.

MMm nyum nyumm... Nothing like a hearty piece of Tibetan brown bread with mystery jam (possibly lychee?)! So what else is new, you ask? Well, I've learned how important it is (for me, at least) to run and moo-ditate. Why, you ask?

Well, a hearty jog is a chance to practice living in the moment, to focus on one's breath. Air goes in the nose and out, trees and monkeys pass to the right, mountains and slugs to the left; observing the sunlight filtering through British pines (yup, trees from the British Empire with no natural predator that have since flourished) and every other fine detail taking place right here and now.

And moo-ditation? A fine opportunity for instrospection, again to focus on the breath; to patiently observe, without judgement, whatever thoughts bubble up - sometimes irrelevant, sometimes deeply profound. Now and then, we may discover that we have some answers locked away to our own problems, we just gotta dig for 'em.


Yup, so that's why I like to run and meditate. It usually works for me, maybe something else works for you. Some folks pray, some consult the magic 8-ball, some seek the sage advice of a wise miniature Buddha, all covered with fur.