Breathe & Move

I am the rebel angel and my tears the trace of one virtue: patience.

You can beat me my time will come. - Max Jacob

Laos

Good writing is about telling the truth.

Write one true sentence.

Write the truest sentence you know.

Find meaning in an experience or feeling.

Perfectionism is a high end version of fear.

Writing needs to breathe and move.

Stay curious & amused by yourself.

*

North Burma

Ride the rails click clack click clack click clack

Nature visions and bamboo forests

silver rivers feel fresh air hanging out the door of a rock’n roll train

rail alliteration starts at 4 AM

space stars open the sky

A red shaped leaf

Fields of lilacs, purple black and gold, butterflies,

sense of stillness, renewal of free rolling spirit,

yellow bamboo leaves at lower elevations,

then green exploding in high lush gardens with fir, pine, evergreens.

Fields being planted

Women and men and children hoeing, watering, turning soil

Say yes to everything.

 

Laos

Lao Girl Bubble

Leica Fotographie International (LFI) selected one of my images for their KIDS gallery.

Thanks to them and here she is. Happy, strong and brave. It's good to be alive.

Courage

I am fearless and fortunate. Courage.

There are not many things you need to remember about your visit to Earth.

Compared to death all life is short.

Remote viewing. Practice upstairs telephone. Remote intervention.

Ter- hidden. Ton- treasure. Terton (Sanskrit)

It was a Halloween day at the small private school in Vientiane. He wore a sign around his neck. "I am a deaf mute. No speak. No hear. If you want to talk to me please write. Thank you." He carried a pencil and paper.

What was the response?

It varied from ignorance to laughter.

Were there any interesting comments?

One boy wrote, you talked yesterday.

Yes, I wrote, today is a new day.

Another?

How can you be a teacher if you don't talk?

I use pictures. I read lips.

Tell us about your sensations.

Many visuals - kids in costumes, playing games, having fun. The adults thought I was crazy. They didn't write anything.

Not curious?

No, lost, as in absent. Not present. They were mute manifestations of the silent inexpressible FEAR. I was deep in my own world of silence. I appreciate that. Yes. It was subtle, clear and immediate. I learned many valuable lessons. Visual sounds.

Slowing down, meditation, awareness, solitude.

Yes, most ignored me. I imagine either they were too shy, shocked or mute. Too lazy to take the pencil and scribble. Scribble their frustration or FEAR.

I appreciate the value of silence now. More so than when I was afflicted. Being pure and radiant. It is a blessing with gratitude and forgiveness.

A combination of no voice, no hearing is perfect in myriad ways.