Hello out there. Are you listening? Are you watching? If so, I must tell you how grateful I am to have your attention. Your eyes are so lovely and curious. and the sound of your brains often lull me into pleasant inspirations. It's an autumnal day here in Portland. The smell of rain saturated leaves fills my nostrils. A rush of yellow, gold, and red entice my peripheries. A smudge of sun has plopped onto my windowsill.
In the last few weeks, I have paired down my existence. My room is empty save for a bed, dresser, and desk. In that space, there is clarity, or the beginning of clarity. There is potential for movement, for newness, for presence and improvisation.
Every few years I leave my job, home, and what some refer to as "stability" to experience these sensations again. I leave to dematerialize, to simplify, to absorb life more fully outside the constraints of the 40-50 hour work week and other minor obligations.
I do not believe you need to own a house and commit to a full-time job to attain stability. For some this is the case, but for me it's quite the opposite. When I leave I am quiet. I succumb to new cultures and graciously learn to say hello, thank you, delicious, and goodbye in new tongues. I peter more. I write more. I play more. I sit more contently inside myself.
That said, there is the long term challenge of finding a balance between what I love to do and what I need to do to sustain. This is the mother of questions. One I shall ponder and perhaps find an answer to while dreaming in Vietnamese.