Sunday, January 06, 2008

quiet time with small punctuations

So, after New Year's Eve, Moab has pretty much gone to sleep for the rest of the winter.
The Moab Brewery, home of kick ass 2.50 pints and 15 cent wings (mon-wed), has closed for the month of January which makes me sad.
The weather has been interesting.
Blowing winds yesterday with tumbleweeds rolling around all over the place.
Somehow we managed to miss getting snow though (and it had been predicted up to 5 inches).
Michelle came through on her way to San Francisco and stayed for a couple of days.
Was good to see an old friend (first person to visit me!).
Created a little excitement too as she managed to get stuck up at the Delicate Arch upper viewpoint after dark one night and i had to go up and get her. hehe
not a big deal, but definitely a little bit of excitement.

So, I've been trying to figure out my plan for spring and so many things are still up in the air it is hard to determine how things will go.
There are enough options though that i am not freakin at all.
I'm anxious to have Noona around again.(no cats allowed in park housing)

Also managed to get really excited last night by a simple Facebook friend request from one of the coolest gals around which i unfortunately did not manage to spend time with before leaving Chicago cus i can be a real chump like that sometimes.
isn't it interesting how sometimes such small moments can trigger strangely overwhelming responses? Especially when you really do not know the person that well.
I guess sometimes there is just that certain vibe there that is so damn striking.
There's no logic to it, is simply IS.
I have a difficult time figuring out how to express that stuff sometimes, as you can never quite be sure how the person on the receiving end will interpret it.
I've been known in the past to come on too strong or be wanting to go a little too deep too fast for some.
Personally, i feel it is because i don't really proscribe to the "normal" emotional boundaries that this culture seems to maintain.
I love and connect readily and easily, especially when i sense an amazing, outstanding spirit which I feel inspired by.
There's a certain look in the eyes - that special connection that is beynd the rational. how can it even be described in words? it is such a raw thing.
Many of the Romantic Poets and the Sufis come close to describing it, yet even they know that it is really a matter of experiencing it, that the words and images can never replace the lived experience.

I managed to just flip the current Rumi book I am reading open to this:

THINKING AND THE HEART'S MYSTICAL WAY

A peaceful face twists with the poisonous nail of thinking.
A golden spade sinks into

a pile of dung. Suppose you loosen an intellectual knot.
The sack is empty. You've grown

old trying to untie such tightenings, so loosen a few more,
why knot! There is a big one

fastened at your throat, the problem of whether you're in
harmony with that which has

no definition. Solve that! You examine substance
and accidents. You waste

your life making subject and verb agree. You edit hearsay.
You study artifacts and think

you know the maker, so proud of having figured the derivation.
Like a scientist you collect

data and put facts together to come to some conclusion.
Mystics arrive at what they

know differently: they lay a head upon a person's chest
and drift into the answer.

Thinking gives off smoke to prove the existence of fire. A
mystic sits inside the burning.

There are wonderful shapes in rising smoke that imagination
loves to watch. But it's

a mistake to leave teh fire for that filmy sight. Stay
here at the flame's core.

-Rumi

interesting how random things can fit the situation and the feeling.

undoing the knot....

I ache for Love to visit.
at least for a moment.
to share experience
exploration
a venture into the backcountry of both earth and soul
not getting lost far from civilization
but rather finding the truth
which lies in the depths of canyons
where springs gush forth from stone
bringing life, sustenance,
slaking that nearly unquenchable thirst.
a Needle in the I can equal
magical medicine
The Old Ones knew it
and so should we.




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