Saturday, May 20

now is

gleeful faces, laughter, chaos
running, yelling, maniacal freedom
swearing, vulgar devotion
grinning, arm punches, hugging

delusional forgotten swirling mass of arms, legs, heads, hair, clothes spinning down into the basement, up to the kitchen, out on the porch, into the night.

wake up, drive home, sign on to blogger...

Thursday, May 18

i know what i've been missing

it's the now; it's been eluding me, but here it is. I'm tired and my body aches. The responsibilities of school and the expectations of our social structure have been beating on my psyche. my trips to the gym have exhausted me.

i've been feeling like something was missing as of late; something was in the way. i get that way sometimes. i understand now, though (but i'll probably forget it again and start the cycle over soon). i was trying to make now into something it wasn't. something holy or divine. i was trying to convert "now" into what i thought it "should" be. but now doesn't have to be anything because now isn't anything. my words scrape at it, they approach it, but they'll never reach it because now is the sublime everything and nothingness of the present moment. now is the music in my speakers. the glow of my monitor. now is the tapping of my keyboard and the aching in my arms, my legs. now is suffering, now is peace. now is


eyes have been closed.

Sunday, May 7


Got home today from the trail. 14.4 miles on the Appalachian; stayed in two shelters in two towns. My entire body hurts and I've been pretty dehydrated, so I'm glad to have a rest. I look forward to trying this times seven in Utah (3 weeks instead of 3 days). It's an interesting test of will - to take every step with thought and to never start wishing to be anywhere else. Even at the most painful times - like the final ascent up to the Telephone Pioneers shelter after an 8 mile day - I just plodded along, looking at my pain and letting it be. I was careful to never get too enthusiastic about the hike - for something painful and difficult was always around the corner. But I never got desperate; I kept always in mind that there would always be an end to any unpleasantness.

I liked the woods because there were no concepts, anywhere. Just life and death, nothing more, nothing less. Little conversation, no small talk, no one trying to sell me something, no needs, no quests, no inequality. Just some trees. And some mountains. And some overnight low temperatures.

I'm glad to be home, though.

Friday, May 5

happy buddha's birthday,

i guess, to anyone who might read this.
I just happened to notice it on wikipedia:

I'm leaving for a three-day hike after work, so I'll be away from the computer for a spot.