Saturday, January 24, 2004

Leaving tomorrow. Which is sweet-sour. I mean, I could so easily stay here. Always. I've lived here consistently for over a year now, and on-and-off for a year before that.

It really is easy to fall in love with this place. The wind almost never blows. It only rains for a day here and there. You can get good food. There are no malls. All the K-Marts, Wall-Marts, Burger Kings, and Taco Bells in the area are kept in this one valley, leaving the rest of the place filled with trees. And rivers. And foxes. And squirrels. And beavers. And deer. And moose. And horses. And cows. And bears. People don't lock their houses. Many not even their precious cars. And people are nice. I mean really nice. I have made friends in a lot of places, but it is here that I have found some of my very best friends. What more can you ask of a place?

But there is also a part of me that loves to travel. And doesn't like to stay in one place for too long. Last year, I made 8 intercontinental flights. The year before, 12. Of course, most of it is for work. But that is also something you choose. And then I have always had to fight the 'grass-is-greener-over-there' syndrome, although I think that in the last few years, I have been winning that tussle. Then again, it is also that I just can't get enough. I never have. The rule that you can't be in more than one place at a time has always struck me as being profoundly unfair. Cruel, even. You should be able to travel, eat, laugh, hug, dance, climb, drink, swim, read, fly, and listen to all that you want, all of the time, and all at the same time, if you want to. Liiiiiive!

Have to go. I have some packing to do. And a daughter to kiss. Catch you later.

Wednesday, January 21, 2004

There are so many clues.

Everyday.

Pointing to the fact that it all goes by ever so quickly. That living is like drinking nectar from a glass that empties much faster than we think. And that we can only hope that we have the good sense of enjoying its sweet taste - without guilt, without trepidation - before it is finished, and we will have to put down the empty glass.

I have met a few of those people. In my life. The ones that are awake. That enjoy living life, as it happens to be. They may strive to change it, but they do not spend it mourning over what could have been, or sulking because things are not like they want them to be. They seem to have mastered that balance between indifference and despair. They seem to burn brighter.

My father was one of those people. He had an insatiable lust for life. It was an endless source of amazement and enjoyment for him. It took me more than twenty years to start seeing that. To appreciate this gift of his. And since then I have aspired to do the same. To love. To enjoy. To embrace. To smile. To give warmth. To give. Because you really do choose how you do this. Most of us really are free to live as we please. And I don't mean the jobs that we seek or the schools that we attend, the things that we buy or any of that. I just mean that we can take it, and really choose, for ourselves, what we do with it.

Another sweet soul escaped from her physical cage last night. This lady was also one of those that knew how to live, but was then trapped in a state of decrepitude for years. Now she is at long last free.

I celebrate her life.