The river starts like a spring and the story just came out. The river starts like a spring and he's like a newborn baby, tumbling and spitting, and one day, attracted by a puddle, he starts to run. He scurries and scampers and wants to get to the marsh, and, after being followed by a big bubble, he does, and at the end of the run he goes into the meander. Then he skips and dances and runs until he's exhausted, and he lies down by the lake- all horizontal lines, ripples, reflections, God made and untouched. Then he goes over the falls and down into the whirlpool, the vortex of violence, and out of the whirlpool into the main track of the river. He widens, becomes broader, loses his adolescence, and down at the delta, passes between to cities. Like all cities on the opposite sides of the deltas, you find certain things in one and not in the other, and vice versa, so we call the cities Neo-Hip-Hop-Cool Kiddies’ Community and the Village of the Virgins. The river passes between them and romps into the mother- Her majesty the Sea-and, of course, is no longer a river. But this is the climax, the heavenly anticipation of rebirth, for the sea will be drawn up into the sky for rain and down into wells and into springs and become the river again. So we call the river an optimist. We'll be able to play the ballet in any church or temple, because the optimist is a believer.
I'm back from my trip. I've been enjoying the heat, the food and the mood of New Orleans. I've read loads of books and worked on my practice while the heat was healing my body after a long and hard winter. I want to share one read, that you should read if your ever plan on going to New Orleans or if you just feel like reading a great story who really does great justice to this endlessy fascinating city. The sound of building coffins by Louis Maistros is a wonderful read.
It's good to be back....