Six Pomeranians are walking down a shiny wet alley late after the rain. The super-moon shines on the remarkable night. I unwrap a cellophane orb of apple flavored peanut-oil based fruit substitute and dream of crisp Galas. The thought of myself sitting in a shoebox and dreaming of biting into the crisp, fresh and slightly tangy skin of a Gala apple ignites an image. Utter poverty. My shoes are shiny black, in my pressed cotton shirts adorned with silk ties - but I can't get the simple fruit of the earth. I can taste vacuum sealed sweet-potato lozenges or watch 3D baseball on my cellphone, but can find no patch of unkempt grass in which to toss my lazy bones.
Transition. It is a major part of travel; the lag that effects the traveler as he holds on to the past as the new environment washes over him. Some call it culture shock, but that's only a part of it. I'm transitioning from a life of wonton and self-centered fancy to dutiful service. The sooner I let go - the sooner I arrive.
--
Under eternal cherry blossomsin the Spring valley of Southwest China
is a wise man who has ridden pain and jealousy to the ends of the earth
he has laid nude with addiction
burned and scarred himself on the flames of desire
and lost all of value
He sits now
in a small room on a cushion
low to the floor
past his window streaks a bird now and again
sometimes a person comes to the door
he has a smoke
takes a nap
and suffers no more
"Suffering is Optional!",
he scolds
"Resistance is Pain"
"Is that so?" to all accusations
"I don't know" he answers
"let it go" in vain.
---
The sooner I let it go - the sooner I arrive. Balance is the goal, not a destination but an equilibrium that can sustain in harmony. In this new environment, I must drop the heavy load of "I" if I am to get anywhere near helping these students through themselves.
