foreigner and dorothy

Continuing the ongoing riff this week in the Blog about living “an entirely different life,” I read this in a book while drinking coffee this morning: “Trapped within currents of change, we are compelled to attempt more and more with ever lessening time.” – ‘Dongshan’s Five Ranks, Keys to Enlightenment.’

There’s some of that in my wonderings. Some quiet urgency. Not paranoid. Not morbid. Just noticing that the sky is gray and birds sing in all colors and I’m 75 and my knees hurt more, and who knows how today goes? I told my pal and mentor Gavin yesterday, sitting in my car, post-work, windows down, that completing and publishing “It’s Like This” was a really, really big deal in my life. A gate passed through, and I’m not in Kansas anymore.

I met these three goofy guys back in the spring of ’83 in Somerville, Massachusetts. I’ll call them Frenchie, Eddie, and Jack. I genuinely didn’t know what to make of them. So, I read this this morning too, from the same book: “The path is endless. It seems absurd to continue to travel it, yet we do. Foolish and forgetful sages gather to encourage us and caution us about taking ourselves too seriously.”

Bang! I remember. My compulsion to be “other” is light-hearted and playful. While urgent.