This is one of those "researching buddhist monastaries or isolated retreat centers to live in" days.

[raybear]

"It was gone, of course, but there was something else, something worse. She had made all these choices. She had discarded this and retained that and it hadn't mattered."

and also.

"Pauline had been quite right about the whales. Had they not cried out in the days of their destruction with exquisite and anguished song? Yet their pursuers, with a purppose unfathomable, wanted only to extinguish them. Indeed, man had reveled in the fine red mists that fell, as though from heaven, from the great collapsing hearts to herald the harried and bewildered creatures' deaths.

The inn where we had taken lodging was now in sight. I thought once again of the debt I owe Pauline. I owe her everything I am. I would even prefer that she would leave this life, in time, before me, though I do not feel strongly about this. Even so, it is proof of her success with me that I could entertain such a thought. One of us will be first, in any case, and until then, we have each other."

-- Joy Williams, Substance and ACK, respectively, from the collection of short stories Honored Guest

That last line of the story just broke me last night. I love reminders of why I love writing.

Comments

[quietzenboy.livejournal.com]

big smile from subject line

i so have these days

then i realize the irony of spending time distracting from being and mindfulness in order to research living somewhere else in total bliss

illusion

i'm searching too hard

[raybear.livejournal.com]

TOTALLY. i sit and think "i could be a WAY better buddhist if i was on retreat" or alternatively, "i could be a WAY better writer if i was at an artist colony".

which is not to say that going on retreats or being in colonies or whatever can't be helpful or useful, but they would probably be MORE so if my practice was solid before going.

what's that saying? start where you are.