what i miss most in my city is the ocean, the beach. have always been a beach-bum in soul...one of my lil utopian dreams is to have a shack selling knick-knacks on a beach somewhere. no pressures, no anxieties, just chillin. surviving on the day's haul, as it were. a hammock, a drink in hand, the sun sliding down the hemisphere, a storm. i know this dream visual will be flawed in reality, when business is bleak, the locals get antsy abt the new biz, and the rent isn't paid for weeks. but whats the harm in dreaming. maybe in my 50s, since I don't see myself getting the time to breathe till then.
was in a conversation with my better 1/2 last night, one of those times we connect like we did when we were younger, sigh! how everything is just an illusion, maya, quoting kabir, death the only reality - the great leveller. this instant, we're here, the other, gone, poof! puppets in a play, the scriptwriter Unseen...he said rather dismissively, that we don't come back, i that we, the soul bits, are regurgitated thru the ages...the zen stories came climbing out, time passed and we fell asleep.
another hot day and its mundane details. the world can wait, she needs a hug.