GOOD (very)…180 seconds. Watch this…
HDM* = Hump Day Meditation
HDM* = Hump Day Meditation
I’m just a step away
And for the first time
I don’t want to keep walking
I’m fine here
I’ve gotten used to this
And this has gotten used to me
I don’t mean that after this step I’ll stop being this
But the fear to the next chapter
The fear to my character walking over to the other side of this imaginary line overwhelms me
It gives me the creeps and the premature nostalgia overtakes my body
This is how I am, because here I walk
But who knows how I will be over other asphalts
I find myself on one side of the line
The one from the present, with a past behind
This is everything that has filled my bag during this time
This is what I am
And I like it
But even if it were not so
I could not escape
There’s no emergency exit to escape from one’s self fire
On the other end of the stripe is my next time
With ambitions, dreams and promises to fill another bag
With other people, other places, other flavors and sounds
I”m afraid of stepping beyond the line
I’m afraid of leaving this asphalt, grey, in which nothing stands out
I’m afraid of changing the color of my nights, thought I never liked this light
I’m afraid of putting out this fire. Of smelling no memories.
I’m afraid of losing this form. I’m afraid of transforming myself.
I am this face.
I am this floor I step on
I am this land, tilled by others.
I am this weather.
I am this wine.
I am this square.
I am this plain.
I am this river.
And this city.
I am the street.
I am what my body oozes because of this I fed it.
And wherever I will be, this broth I carry it with me
This is what I am
And no matter how many lines I cross, my essence
Is coming with me
~ Maria Strada
There are places in and around our great cities, where the natural world has all but disappeared. You can make out streets and sidewalks, autos, parking garages, advertising billboards, monuments of glass and steel. But not a tree, or a blade of grass or any animal, besides of course, the Humans. There are lot’s of Humans. Only when you look up straight up through the skyscraper canyons, can you make out a star or a patch of blue. Reminders of what was there long before humans came to be. It’s not hard going to work every day in such a place to be impressed with ourselves. How we’ve transformed the earth for our benefit and convenience. But a few hundred miles up or down, there are no humans, our impact on the universe is nil. In the last 10,000 years, an instant in our long history, we’ve abandoned the nomadic life. We’ve domesticated the plants and animals. Why chase the food, when you can make it come to you? For all its material advantages, the sedentary life has left us edgy, unfulfilled. Even after 400 generations in villages and cities, we haven’t forgotten. There are now people on every continent and the remotest islands. From pole to pole. From Mount Everest to the Dead Sea. On the ocean bottoms, and even, occasionally in residence two miles up. Humans, like the Gods of old, living in the sky. These days there seems no where left to explore. Victims of their very success, the explorers now, pretty much, stay home.
I can still remember how she looked. Black gown grey against the sky, clutching the scroll in the hand. So much hard work.
Did it mean anything when all paths led to the same end. You can extend the path you take. Choose the one less travelled. Be all the richer for it. But it is still a path, and all paths lead to the same end. If you have a Lover and a Dog waiting for you, you are one of the lucky ones. I don’t think there’s anything afterwards, outside the stories. if there is, how would that work?
She believed. She wasn’t a zealot or fundamentalist. But she believed. Enough to not get scared at the end. Vast thunder storms. Fat on the horizon. But she could still see the sun. All things shining.
Sometimes I do the impossible. Steal a glimpse of her out of the corner of my eye. Light and full of love. I don’t try to stop her. Tap her on the shoulder. Pull her home.
They ask me years later. Does it get easier as time passes or does it stay at the back of your mind.
No. It stays right at the front.
~ Jack Tasker
Flying snowmobile called “parasledding.”
Whatever happened to tobogganing?
Or even snowmobiling on snow?
Yet, even for Man with Acrophobia, this is cool.
Chatter Creek, B.C. Canada is a 5 hour drive NW of my hometown.
What amazing country. (I have no bias of course)
And what incredible camera work.