03-Travel on A Well-Lit-Path

wait

Fri, 21 Oct 2016 00:00:00 +0000

A page takes flight, like a folded airplane, and lands on a desk. A public servant seated at that desk notices movement, glances toward the 752 paper airplanes before them, many having missed the runway and skidded off to the floor, or worse, having barreled into the undiminished pile like a stone into a drift of last night’s snow, cause and effect of chaos’ avalanche.

The public servant, secure for life in a poorly-paid job, paws briefly at the pile to see what just flew in, with no hope of distinguishing new wings from old, new paper from old; and eight hours minus 15 minutes’ rest in the morning minus one hour of sunshine at luncheon minus 15 minutes break in the afternoon reduces one day to six-and-one-half hours of mind-numbing bureaucracy, this day every day minus weekends minus holidays minus funerals.

I'll end today at home

Sat, 04 Jul 2015 00:00:00 +0000

Fields of heather reach from the tarmac east, unbroken by even a single tree, rarely by a road, knee-high unbowed flowers that reach the sea. An inlet, in reality: behind you see a ridgeline rising, and on the ridges snow; past the ridges, over there to the north, Iceland’s 66th parallel, a frosty whisper south of the Arctic Circle.

I saw, as we flew in, the sparse houses huddled in the even sparser green, huddled near the shore where the demands of weather are not impossible to satisfy, the incursion of ice not quite a glacial burial, and the overlay of lava not too frequent, so that somehow, somehow, through experience and (equally important) sheer persistence, these humans just like you and just like me chiseled a foothold into the stone and tundra, so here they stayed, and here they remain, twelve-hundred years of history, speaking a language left them by the Vikings, composed in blood-lines and written out in lines of these faces.

the emigrant pauses on the hill of mirrors

Sun, 06 Apr 2014 00:00:00 +0000

The world spins and we spin with it. Years ago I was born near here; a year later I moved to there; then there, then there, then there. I changed cities, I changed countries, I changed continents; I walked as far as I could, and took a train when the road stretched too long; I boarded a plane when I ran out of rail; I ended up here.

I each of those places I called my home, I had the fortune to arrive after strife and depart before strife, at least as my heart measured it: others might have called my smallest journey struggle, and certainly the act of getting to know a new culture, and you yourself in relationship to it, is not for the faint of heart. Still, it becomes an art. (As Elizabeth Bishop famously, sadly wrote: The art of losing isn’t hard to master…").

Motorcycle & I

Thu, 15 Sep 2011 00:00:00 +0000

There are advantages to learning to clutch with your left hand, and shift with your left foot. You might have the opportunity of riding down a gravel scree near the sacred beach in central Java, girlfriend on the back, wondering if at the bottom it would be a gradual recovery, or an abrupt conclusion; or you might be able to escape the teeming lost/party scene in Goa, to dodge cattle and wild pigs and dogs, to wiggle your head greeting to the locals, and to look out over bicentennial portuguese ruins at the Indian ocean… ah, where you might go, if you could ride a motorcycle…

Windows - 1

Thu, 01 Jul 2010 00:00:00 +0000

The warung was four walls and a roof, twelve tables and a door, twenty-four slight and elegant locals,
one pallid westerner, and me.

The walls weren’t really walls, as we would imagine them in Europe or the States: what would they keep out? Woven bamboo that allowed light to escape and the afternoon breeze to enter, allowed the quiet river of Indonesian conversation to course in an out, to mingle with melati blossoms and diesel… and the fire of equatorial sun, and the overripe stench of durian… and the pulsing twitter of the bird market…

love, not love

Thu, 25 Jun 2009 00:00:00 +0000

“So is it study or is it art?”

The first is a wick drawn by a practiced hand, straight through wax. Patience dipped again and again to fill out a candle’s form, layer on layer for length, strength and stability. There is dedication in study, repeated practice like a mantra, mastery a form of devotion. You give yourself and you give your time, your attention. You receive something human-born, earthy, quiet.

two true stories

Fri, 15 May 2009 00:00:00 +0000

Somewhere in between acquaintance and friend I asked why?, and she answered: I survived cancer.

It was some years ago, she said, a decade now without another challenge. I counted back: how young! And the thought dissolved - as some thoughts do - becoming a gentle interior rain, washing down to common ground, what is was lost, is loosing its grip, will be taken away. I was trying to remember where that exact feeling, or a feeling closely akin, had touched me before: it is aligned with beauty. It might have been the first curl and browning edge of a rose petal. It might be a spot on the stem. If there were no beauty, the sense would not be the same…

joy

Sat, 09 May 2009 00:00:00 +0000

The sun’s touch soft today, the air perfumed with sweetest taste of spring, simple, with no effort, the round globe leans toward its lover, longs for love, and every living thing becomes a blossom. I gave myself an hour - no more than an hour was needed - and left my labor to rest, set it on the desk, and stepped out into sun; it was just as I remembered it. The sky soon filled with overcast, the same moist cotton, grayed with pending rain, the same full drops suspended, the hint of ozone and the songs of birds, the motion that is not my own yet part of me, of which I am a part…

Fill My Eyes

Fri, 13 Mar 2009 00:00:00 +0000

When you travel to a tourist destination, you see what you pay for, and what those who are selling rest wish you to see: in the case of Gulf coast Florida, there are miles of sand, comfortable and maintenance-free accommodations, food at the end of a short walk and at the sliding edge of your credit card, and night clubs or golf courses or day spas or ships or shops… That’s why they are here, so you can be here, too. It is a perfectly Disney establishment, where the name is here employed as an adjective. The world is peaceful, there are no cares, and all that is asked of you (for these few days) is that you… descontrair (couldn’t find a better word than the Portuguese, meaning to “un-contract”).

Liquid Planet

Thu, 06 Dec 2007 00:00:00 +0000

… and so all follows water’s path, from cloud to peak, from heights to valleys, from valleys to the sea; follows through channels that life itself creates, in currents at times quickened at times slowed by degrees of its descent. The selfsame wave that rises, falls; the selfsame lightning separating droplet from the whole, sees droplet join the torrent, follow current with the urging of this gravity-constant hand until, to end a sinuous trackless trail, again it joins the whole.

1984

Wed, 24 Oct 2007 00:00:00 +0000

Nineteen eighty-four.

What was at one time a distant dream, the darkness of a book, an election year, a future, became the present. We didn’t have to do anything; we didn’t lift a finger, but gradually the date overtook us and passed us by, leaving us stationary at the roadside, the dusty wind of its passage playing and tugging at our hair and our clothes, the sun baking the asphalt underfoot and burning our faces to leather.

Things of Value

Mon, 13 Aug 2007 00:00:00 +0000

In 1985, I spent several months living on the island of Java, in Yogyakarta, having traveled there with a partner in the evening of our intimacy. I sat out nights with our mutual friend Muller, a Sumatran who was studying at the University, on the grass mats of Jalan Malioboro, smoking Kretek cigarettes and drinking sugary tea, and spooning up repeat servings of gudeg, a simple local dish perhaps, but with friendship and smoke and inconsequential conversations – I can’t recall even how much was spoken in Indonesian, or English, or not spoken at all – the long evenings were excellent.

língua do vento

Wed, 11 Jul 2007 00:00:00 +0000

Ai, que dificuldade.

Sabe, gente, que só nos terrenos brasileiros é possível viver como brasileiro. Não importa a vontade, não importa a ídioma empregada, não importa o abraço, não importa a comida… se torna brasileiro quem pisa na terra brasileira. Abra a porta carioca, deite na cama paulista, seja tocado pelo vento porto-alegrense… aí gente, o coração cai e quebra, e nos espaços assim criados se insinua o pulso do sul…

Questions of Travel

Mon, 09 Jul 2007 00:00:00 +0000

There are too many waterfalls here; the crowded streams
hurry too rapidly down to the sea,
and the pressure of so many clouds on the mountaintops
makes them spill over the sides in soft slow-motion,
turning to waterfalls under our very eyes.
-- For if those streaks, those mile-long, shiny, tearstains
aren’t waterfalls yet,
in a quick age or so, as ages go here,
they probably will be.
But if the streams and clouds keep travelling, travelling,
the mountains look like the hulls of capsized ships,
slime-hung and barnacled.

The other world

Fri, 23 Feb 2007 00:00:00 +0000

I took some time to gear myself up a bit, and swam out to the lava point at White Rock Beach. I had been practicing snorkeling in the shallows – never having been a water person, further and deeper can bring me closer to the edge of comfort, and unfamiliarity with the techniques and the gear kept me diving, rising, being pushed in by the waves, and drawn back out by the wave-return.

Earth

Mon, 19 Feb 2007 00:00:00 +0000

Some two thousand five hundred miles from the coast of California, a “hot spot” in the floor of the Pacific ocean has jetted matter from the heart of earth toward the sky. It passes through cooling waters, and becomes a cone that, over the millennia, breaks the waves and rises thousands of feet above the surface. Unstable, it erupts, explodes, sloughs new earth down the slopes to consolidate, hissing in the sea.

Whalesong

Mon, 19 Feb 2007 00:00:00 +0000

“I’ve never considered myself a spiritual person, but the first time I stopped the boat above a singing male, and dropped the hydrophone in the water…”

Then there is a pause for words, which are not available. This is the well from which the poets draw water, the place beyond words, where words alone are required but will never be adequate. The guest at my cousin’s party spoke of arriving here a few years ago, and beginning a water tour company with her husband. Maui, as it happens, is something of a sacred site for the whales – what else but a sacred site when such large populations congregate here, as compared to other Hawaiian islands?

A Spoken Tour of India

Mon, 15 Jan 2007 00:00:00 +0000

For those of you who have been following Manny and my trajectory from Massachusetts to India and back again, and are not rooted somewhere half-way ‘round the world, I’d like to invite you to join us for an evening of pictures and stories.

This Saturday, January 20th, at 7:15pm at the Yoga Center of Newburyport, we will offer a warm cup of Masala chai accompanied by some good travel, laughter and stillness and smells and sights and sounds of another land… and perhaps a whiff of another way of being.

A Few Words Draw You Back

Wed, 03 Jan 2007 00:00:00 +0000

Manny and I received a kind note from Sonum, our hostess and guide during our stay at the Tibetan Settlements in Bylakuppe. At the time of our departure, we had spent much of several days in her company, given a walking tour of the monasteries and the farmlands in the area. We left a little money – the only thing we had to offer as a gift, a kindness for her kindnesses – and hoped that it was received in the spirit it was given.

Trajectory

Sat, 16 Dec 2006 00:00:00 +0000

I met Manny last night – the first time we have really sat down together since our return to the States. After 30 days of intense travel, having shared the floor of the experience, as it were, as well as visited the sky, it was an easy hour which stretched to two, speaking about nothing much.

But the current which flows under words makes the words redundant, or perhaps they are a small harmony in a greater music, so what is shared and what was shared is finer than the inaccurate sounds we make around this topic or that topic. To share the experience of anything with anyone means that you each carry those days within you, a living memory which is reactivated when you meet, whenever you meet.

Thank you India!

Tue, 05 Dec 2006 00:00:00 +0000

Manny Muros:

It is 4:30 am and I am at the Bangalore airport, tired, red-eyed, and feeling both completed and exhausted…. My heart is full of gratitude…. I had spent the previous night in a sleeper bus (12 hours) traveling from Goa to Bangalore….. I can feel my breath slow and calm, deep in my belly. There is very little energy/tension in my being.

There is a European woman sitting next to me holding a book from Sri Baba avatar. Her eyes remain close for quite some time as she listened to a CD. When she opened her eyes and made contact with me I asked her if she had been at Sri Baba’s ashram. She answered that she had just completed 13 days there and then asked, Who are you? …. She went on to tell me that as I walked over to sit down next to her, she felt my vibration engulf the room and she saw a vision of Shiva dancing as her eyes closed in contemplation… and then she asked again, Who are you?… What a gift to be acknowledged in such an unexpected manner!!!

To Walk the Razor's Edge

Wed, 22 Nov 2006 00:00:00 +0000

I return from such a short time away, what might have been a short time away, to find that the leaves have all flown, and the slate skies of winter have taken their places at the edges of each branch and twig. This morning the wind rose up in the north, like a great wave coming ashore, and its voice spoke louder and louder in the woodlot behind the house. It’s word was cold.

Guru

Mon, 20 Nov 2006 00:00:00 +0000

What word to use to describe travel in India…? Imprecise? Is it a process of approximation?

No, any word that scorns this travel is missing the heart of the matter, it is missing the syncopation that is dictated not by a metronome but by an emotional pulse that arrives precisely when it is supposed to, it is missing the winding currents made by the separate strings of the sitar, which may approximate the logic of Bach’s stolid instrumentals, but hits the movement of blood in the veins most accurately.

Closing Circles

Sun, 19 Nov 2006 00:00:00 +0000

I guess if a circle doesn’t close, it is incomplete…? Does it lose strength? Does it deflate, or allow bad winds to invade its beautiful core?

Still, you run a finger in the sand, tracing the outline of the sun, or the outline of the moon, you begin with a point at the tip of your finger, then a short arc, a longer arc, a half-moon, three-quarters of the sun, and finally drag the fingertip back, back to where it approaches, touches, and completes the line; and you have made something that the eye can follow around and around without end.

The News of a Morning

Sat, 18 Nov 2006 00:00:00 +0000

Having finished my early yoga, I come from the room and enter the hotel courtyard, and the senses, which have fed me quietly throughout the night, fill with the picture of a Goan morning: crickets still sing in the cool temperatures, while a wide variety of birds welcome the day in conversation… saying what? All that chatter can’t be for nothing: Aaaah, it’s good to stretch my wings!, or Clouds overhead, maybe it will be cooler today…? and What’s for breakfast? Cricket?… at which point several crickets quickly silence their instruments and scurry deeper into the grasses which line the stone wall.

Widening Circles

Sat, 18 Nov 2006 00:00:00 +0000

Yesterday’s motorcycle tour of the closest beaches was such a success, I decided to hold onto the bike one more day, and take a morning trip further north, toward the ruins of the old Portuguese fort at Cabo-de-Rama, up past Agonda Beach. Manny had promised a phone call home at nine AM this morning, and as both traffic and the heat of the sun intensify as the day wakes up, we decided to split our paths today, to catch up later. I left Manny in the middle of morning yoga, and headed out into my map of the land, already extended by experience.

Bouquet of Beaches

Fri, 17 Nov 2006 00:00:00 +0000

Today we took to the roads of Goa; perhaps a risk to lives and limbs, except we promised ourselves to stick to the smaller roads. On “Main Street” – I had tongue-in-cheekily named it that after our first stroll among its multitude of vendors and restaurants, only to find that it is, in fact, called just that – we were able to rent a motorcycle for the day, starting at 200 rupees (about US$4.50) for something akin to a Vespa Scooter (49.9cc engine) and moving up as size and quality increases. I had decided that the extra power was worth a few rupees more, so we settled on a 150cc Beater Deluxe (not its true name), only to return it after wobbly riding one block out and somehow successfully navigating one block back on its damaged frame and under-inflated tires.

Travel "Yes"s

Fri, 17 Nov 2006 00:00:00 +0000

Some of the things we thought would work well actually did… and others we learned on the way. Here are a few thoughts we’d like to remember next time around. If any are useful to you, bravo! There’s some wisdom well won.

Nail scissors Useful for trimming all kinds of things besides your nails…
Flip-top toothpaste Small plastic jar fits neatly into most travel kits, no spill, no mess.
Leg-zip poly hiking pants Wash quickly, dry quickly, work as swim trunks, good for cool or hot weather… best buy all round.
Hand towel Works as a bath towel, packs light and small, and dries more quickly.
Yoga mat Yeah, well if I hadn’t had it, I wouldn’t have had a 30-day yoga retreat this trip. Feeling great.
BIC lighter(s) Local lighters suck. Incense or other combustibles. We did not buy other combustibles, but you might.
Pack umbrella When the monsoon hits, it is vital. Sturdy is better.
Useful Bags Bags are light, and a few different sizes to carry food or keep dirty-clothes are great.
Nylon/poly rope A few yards to use a clothesline in those frequent places without one.
Duffel bag Max is carry-on size (or tied-down to same). Folded in you backpack, use it to bring purchases home.
Qt. Nalgene Nice to be able to carry/mix drinks, like Vita-C drinks, etc.
Expandable Backpack Great to allow the backpack to grow as your belongings grow – or shrink when you swap stuff out to a duffel for travel home. If you can hide the shoulder straps, it makes it easier to get into (and out of) public bus luggage racks.
Skin Cream/Lotion or Stick Think sun protection, and skin repair… small bottle goes a long way. I’ve wanted sunblock a lot – it comes in a convenient stick applicator these days, too – and had to buy a cheaper brand for more money. Skin lotion I have wanted to use a few times, but didn’t buy any…
Lip Balm Great for the same reason, and I did bring that, gratefully.
Antifungal If you are susceptible… heat+sweat+reduced hygiene can bring a rash, and untreated those can get aggressive in the tropics. Better safe than walking funny (which is not at all funny).
Disposable Razor Two per month, depending on orneriness of your body hair…
Kleenex Pocket Packs I haven’t used mine, but could have a few times, when the Hand Method could have been supplemented by the Tissue Method. Some people suggest antiseptic Wipes as a better solution… but they are wet and heavy.
Bandana For light head cover, cleaning up, etc. Could take the place of a washcloth.
Pack umbrella If it is cool at home or on the airplane, a fleece has real value. Had we stopped in the mountains, I would have used it. Fleece can double as a pillow, too – useful and comfy, when wrapped in a cotton shirt or sari
Account numbers You can scramble them with a code… but have them along, so you can easily gain access to your accounts when you need to over the internet.
Small day-bag I had a sailor-duffle style bag, with a drawstring that cinches down, and a shoulder strap which pulls the opening together. Very handy, and I felt safer with it than with a plain bag – nothing a razor wouldn’t get into, of course, but it easily and comfortably slung under the arm and forward for good control.
Spiral notebook 5x8" is a good size, fits in a day bag easily, and a pen clips into the spiral for convenience. Names and addresses, notes… all want a good, collected place in which to follow you home.
Personal/Business Cards A friends gave me cards from the Odonata community – terribly handy, what? It made it easy to leave and take contact information.
USB cruzer This new USB technology allows you to load all of your favorite programs onto a handy memory stick. The size of a baby’s finger, these things give you 2Gb of memory – enough for all your work and to contain a huge number of pictures, which you can download from your camera and carry home with you (what I will do, when I leave my camera with Manny). I run a browser and email clients from this stick – meaning my personal information is never written to the local computers. Too cool. they only work well in the newer machines – but there is always a good Internet Cafe around with better equipment… and that is the only kind of place you want to use, anyway.

Palolem, released

Thu, 16 Nov 2006 00:00:00 +0000

Just before dawn only a few roosters have roused themselves – or never went to bed – and with most humans still in bed, I can hear the falling of the surf away here inland. Yoga is sweet and quiet, Manny still in bed; then a quiet seat in the restaurant gazebo and time to write. Sometimes day dawns with all the same elements as the day before, still something undefinable has changed, and today is feels as though loops of effort that were binding me to some way of being have dropped away. I walk to the beach, where the waves roll in at their same slow pace, one breaking every ten seconds, just about the length of a person’s deep breath. Almost no one is on the sand, the beach chairs empty, so I take up a seat and settle in for the morning meditation.

Travel "No"s

Thu, 16 Nov 2006 00:00:00 +0000

A few thoughts on what has been less effective – in the practical sense – on this extended study tour to tropical climes, and which I would gladly let go on any return visit. While mostly personal preference, a little reality check for future travelers to India…

Water Filter/Iodine Bottled water is available almost everywhere, even in the nether reaches of the Tibetan Settlements, arguably the most remote space we were in this trip. If you are going to trek in the mountains, that might be another story… but I would think twice before carrying the weight.
Diarrhea pills Ok, you have to go prepared. But better preparation was to play it safe with foods, either who is selling or what you are eating. We stayed away from watered-down drinks and ices, and kept with good establishments and well-cooked meals. No problems yet… another prescription purchased but not employed.
Guide to India (complete) Lonely Planet makes guides for South India – I saw one, but not when I was buying, unfortunately – which is a third the size of the Tome of Tomes.
Bank of America All right, what the hell?? The single largest bank in America does not support Cirrus or other banking networks. Nice, good they are so important unto themselves that they don’t need anyone else (suond familiar, countryfolk?)… and I have been unable to withdraw funds from my account since Bangalore – where there was TWO banks (Citibank and HSBC) who would give me money. Ridiculous.
Solo travel on sleeper buses Who knows who I will have to sleep next to on my way back to Bangalore!
Skype headset Every Internet cafe with bandwidth enough for voice-over-IP telephony already has a better headset than what you are willing to buy and bring along. I wasted $10 at radio shack for something I haven’t and won’t use.

To be continued as our list grows.

Trusting the Universe

Mon, 13 Nov 2006 00:00:00 +0000

Manny Muros:

I have always had a lot of faith and trust in the goodness of the Universe… A believe that things will always work out for the best. The desire to simply see clearly what is in front of me.

Traveling thru India we have had lots of practice on moving toward a general certain direction and allowing the experience to unfold as it wants to… We’ve been entering one unknown situation after another and yet always feeling a guiding wind move us to our destination. There is always the smiling face that directs us. The intuition to go right instead of left… sometimes it has been to turn back!

Watershed

Mon, 13 Nov 2006 00:00:00 +0000

Interesting to watch the broad movements of the brush, see what is being painted as we work our way across the country and through our allotted travel time. We began with the shock of arrival, followed that with the shock of the new, and the shock of being changed… then the shock of allowing change to happen. An intense half-month of deep work and high heights, with our consciousness being stretched every which way, from the sublime to the base, from the political to the social.

A day of rest

Sat, 11 Nov 2006 00:00:00 +0000

Dressed in her hospital uniform, Sonam insisted on calling in an autorickshaw for us, arguing with the driver (who wanted to keep his price open – to anything, apparently), riding us all the way to the bus station, and seeing us safely onto the Mangalore bus before bidding us farewell… we were not outside of anyone’s arms for our whole stay in Bylakuppe.

The road west climbed up into the mountains, where the ruts and curves increased in step with the altitude; beautiful heights, wild and wide vistas high above the local eagle’s lofts, and cool temperatures were payment for our travel. We began among coffee plantation on the eastern slopes, where drier weather presumably makes for better flavor and yield. Small villages and houses tucked along the roadside doubtless fed the labor required for these expanses of cultivated land, and estate villas swelled where the best lands were found.

Undercurrent

Sat, 11 Nov 2006 00:00:00 +0000

The external beauties and (as often as not) challenges are easy to write about, but the inner work is not. Still, I am rising at 5:30 for yoga, each day feeling stronger, more limber, and somehow “cleaner”; I am sitting when I can in meditation – really delighting in being close to the ground, and considering removing some upright furniture from a couple of my rooms; and I am reading and writing along this well-lit path we have taken.

The Traveler's Journey

Thu, 09 Nov 2006 00:00:00 +0000

Manny Muros:

I find myself at yet another internet cafe, grounding my energy as I connect with life back home…. Today, Mark and I are completely surrounded by Tibetan monks as we are within the monastery campus.

With the pace of our travels, every few days we seem to enter totally different realities. From the hustle of big cities to meditating in caves, the Matrimandir, and in Tibetan monasteries. We have stayed at fancy hotels and are presently staying at a Tibetan’s family farm house. We have eaten with our hands on an Ashram’s temple floor and had a beer on a rooftop cafe overlooking the lit-up Mysore Palace. Let’s just say we have had a full range of bathroom experiences!

Ah, India...

Sun, 05 Nov 2006 00:00:00 +0000

Manny and I left Auroville yesterday with great good-byes, good feelings, and with an amazingly full experience drawn inside of us – only seven days in the place, but in terms of new thoughts, faces and experience…. timeless.

I rose every morning at 5:30 for yoga, 6:00 for meditation, 7:00 for an hour reading Savitri,Sri Aurobindo’s epic of personal and human evolution; then breakfast, and a day free to explore the indescribable wealth of endeavor that is Auroville. I guess, if I am able to continue such practice when I return home, the days will be long and full as well, particularly with such good tilling of the soil prior to planting my self in the day.

Travel, revisited

Sat, 28 Oct 2006 00:00:00 +0000

I feel a real sadness welling up inside of me as we leave Sri Ramanasramam. It was quite short, just a few days, but the spirit of the place and of the people was remarkable. And as is often the case when you are travelling (as opposed to tourism, where one often carries the bubble of home around them), we met a number of fascinating people, local Indians and visitors from abroad, who made the space and time here incredibly rich and amazingly warm. You never know if these instant connections will grow, should grow, or if they will simply fade into nice memories; still I hope to have the opportunity some day to visit Rama and Adelaida in their Costa Rican retreat, of host them, should they pass through New York and fancy a short side-trip to the north…

Acquisition

Tue, 24 Oct 2006 00:00:00 +0000

Manny asked: “What do you wish to gain from this travel?”

I struggled for a moment to find an answer – everywhere I looked inside of my heart I could find nothing that I wished to add to my life. How often do we fall into an old habit: the search for what is missing? When in fact, it is not something we hope to gain, but rather all that we hope to lose. All of the automatic and assumed attitudes, all of the activity, the movement without pause…

Departure

Sat, 21 Oct 2006 00:00:00 +0000

The traveler knows: departure is the front side of return. Those who stay behind see only the farewell; and hope for the wave hello.

For those who are here, on this side of the journey, I leave our travel information. My regrets to a couple of colleagues, to whom I gave an incorrect return date.

21 Oct - 21:05 British Airways BA 0214 from Boston to London
22 Oct - 14:05 British Airways BA 0119 from London to Bangalore

Of Dollars and Drugs

Tue, 17 Oct 2006 00:00:00 +0000

Typhoid 0.5cc IM.
Tetanus 0.5cc IM.
Hepatitis A 1cc IM.
Polio 0.5cc IM.
Mefloquine Hydrochloride 1/1 week.

When you travel from the United States to other areas of the world, you are strongly advised to renew your boosters: a couple of days of discomfort to stave off life-threatening or life-shorting diseases endemic to your destination. Mefloquine HCl is the latest in a long series of anti-malarial drugs, the evolution of which has closely followed evolution of the parasite itself, as it builds resistance to current treatments, rendering them useless. It has a number of potential side-effects, some of them rather nasty and potentially permanent, if you have a tendency toward the depressive or have struggled with psychological problems.

Countdown

Sun, 15 Oct 2006 00:00:00 +0000

Manny Muros:

Our journey is becoming real after many months of planning and preparations. Tickets bought, visas received, shots taken, and the empty back-pack is sitting in my room. My time has become measured as every minute here has increased in value.

The time spent with my sons this weekend has had an extra sweetness in its quality… I know I will spend 6 weeks without seeing them and its a long time….

Home in the body

Sun, 15 Oct 2006 00:00:00 +0000

One aspect of travel I greatly enjoy is the rush of colors and smells and sounds, the intense (and sometimes forced) awakening of what may have become complacent senses. The teaching of Buddhist Tantra is a realization that you are not an isolated chuck of matter, not part of a duality (you vs everything else), but in fact an integral part of the world around you, both seen and unseen. When I find myself dropped into an ocean of new sensations, I feel my Self stretched, while parts of me which I had never before experienced surface and float along on the waves.

Dr. Livingstone, I Presume?

Sat, 14 Oct 2006 00:00:00 +0000

Some months ago, for reasons which have become obscure to me, I purchased a 1Gb SanDisk U3 Cruzer Memory Stick: enough juicy words in that title to grab techies, musicians, dudes, the aging, and sportsmen by the collar, and haul them to the counter, cash in hand. If the words weren’t enough, the price of the ‘stick – $69 at the time – was neatly offset by not one, but two $20 rebates. You do the math.

Who Am I?

Sat, 30 Sep 2006 00:00:00 +0000

“The gross body which is composed of the seven humours (dhatus), I am not; the five cognitive sense organs, viz. the senses of hearing, touch, sight, taste, and smell, which apprehend their respective objects, viz. sound, touch, colour, taste, and odour, I am not; the five cognitive sense-organs, viz. the organs of speech, locomotion, grasping, excretion, and procreation, which have as their respective functions speaking, moving, grasping, excreting, and enjoying, I am not; the five vital airs, prana, etc., which perform respectively the five functions of in-breathing, etc., I am not; even the mind which thinks, I am not; the nescience too, which is endowed only with the residual impressions of objects, and in which there are no objects and no functionings, I am not.”

~ Sri Ramana Maharshi, Who Am I?

The modern traveler leaves footprints in the sky…

Thu, 28 Sep 2006 00:00:00 +0000

I imagine the feeling that swells in the heart of the traveler, mid-18th century, whose morning walk has taken him over the threshold of his cottage, past the weather-grayed wood of the gate, past the age-smeared walls of the neighboring houses, along down the cobbled road – hear the wooden heels’ hollow knocking along the paving-stones, something in the rhythm slightly quicker than usual, slightly more determined – over the bridge that is the heart of the town, then following the straightening line of the river toward the harbor. It is the dawn before the dawn, and each breath springs out like a hand of his spirit reaching out or offering, each small cloud emerges and slips off behind him, moves over his left shoulder as he turns his head to the ships at anchor; the clouds are touched with the slightest color.