{written on 7.14.11, outside of the Island Cafe, in Anacortes, WA}
Day number whatever in the life of an itinerant philosopher.
I've only been on the road for a month, and out of the woods for 4 or 5 days, but i feel like its been lifetimes. In some ways, its been extremely challenging, but a lot of the things i was prematurely concerned with, like being bored, have been no big deal. Turns out i have little problem letting the days unfold naturally, taking my time. In the woods, sometimes it would take 4 or 5 hours, just to get a cup of coffee, with a whole series of adventures and misadventures unfurling along the way. I've carried this sense of patience, faith and trust with me, into the world.
A good friend of mine in Colorado told me about a dream, in which she was in heaven. Everyone she knew told her about all the projects they were undertaking: someone was learning Latin, someone was learning to rollerskate, someone was learning to knit. This was her paradise; all the time in the world to follow their dreams, to be their own, true selves. This friend of mine is a real paradox, half artsy bohemian, and half socialite, concerned with making money, tethered by responsibilities, and she often finds herself unhappy due to this dichotomy.
Since i hit the rioad, there's been ample opportunity to pursue my art, my spirituality; to investigate who i am, outside of the line noise of society and from the crushing weight of routine. I needed a break, and i'm not talking a coffee break. I needed a severe fracturing of gangrenous limbs. My time in the wilderness was an elongated ritual and prayer. An invocation, paid for with love and tears and blood, to mould me into the vessel the spirit would have me become.
What is becoming an obsession of mine is the notion of Quality, first discovered in the trendy but useful Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. He talks a lot about seeking Quality, slowing down, getting to know his machine in all its intricacies. He realizes many profound philosophical concepts, and so have i.
In society, i was constantly seeking distraction, seeking imaginary validation from unseen peers. A constant hunger, an endless void, a bottomless pit. clickclickclick, down the rabbit hole.
And then one day you find, ten years had got behind you...
Its our personal responsibility, those of us who are awake and aware, to seperate ourselves from society, and to create a bit of space within ourselves, to know ourselves and what is important to us. There's a certain retroactive motion, a kind of primitivism, as we start to realize that newer is not necessarily better, and that care, craft, sincerity, and feeling are obvious, and an antidote to a lot of societal ills, at present.
The paradise my friend dreamed of is contained within us all, and surrounds us every second. You can do anything you like, at any time. There's nothing holding you back, except the imaginary cage of a restless mind.
I've only been on the road for a month, and out of the woods for 4 or 5 days, but i feel like its been lifetimes. In some ways, its been extremely challenging, but a lot of the things i was prematurely concerned with, like being bored, have been no big deal. Turns out i have little problem letting the days unfold naturally, taking my time. In the woods, sometimes it would take 4 or 5 hours, just to get a cup of coffee, with a whole series of adventures and misadventures unfurling along the way. I've carried this sense of patience, faith and trust with me, into the world.
A good friend of mine in Colorado told me about a dream, in which she was in heaven. Everyone she knew told her about all the projects they were undertaking: someone was learning Latin, someone was learning to rollerskate, someone was learning to knit. This was her paradise; all the time in the world to follow their dreams, to be their own, true selves. This friend of mine is a real paradox, half artsy bohemian, and half socialite, concerned with making money, tethered by responsibilities, and she often finds herself unhappy due to this dichotomy.
Since i hit the rioad, there's been ample opportunity to pursue my art, my spirituality; to investigate who i am, outside of the line noise of society and from the crushing weight of routine. I needed a break, and i'm not talking a coffee break. I needed a severe fracturing of gangrenous limbs. My time in the wilderness was an elongated ritual and prayer. An invocation, paid for with love and tears and blood, to mould me into the vessel the spirit would have me become.
What is becoming an obsession of mine is the notion of Quality, first discovered in the trendy but useful Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. He talks a lot about seeking Quality, slowing down, getting to know his machine in all its intricacies. He realizes many profound philosophical concepts, and so have i.
In society, i was constantly seeking distraction, seeking imaginary validation from unseen peers. A constant hunger, an endless void, a bottomless pit. clickclickclick, down the rabbit hole.
And then one day you find, ten years had got behind you...
Its our personal responsibility, those of us who are awake and aware, to seperate ourselves from society, and to create a bit of space within ourselves, to know ourselves and what is important to us. There's a certain retroactive motion, a kind of primitivism, as we start to realize that newer is not necessarily better, and that care, craft, sincerity, and feeling are obvious, and an antidote to a lot of societal ills, at present.
The paradise my friend dreamed of is contained within us all, and surrounds us every second. You can do anything you like, at any time. There's nothing holding you back, except the imaginary cage of a restless mind.
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