one feeling

coming back from witch camp
2 days later we drove into the city
to go to a dance space
and have a circle, shared breaths,
pushing pullling sweaty fleshy sinews
dance dance
and i feel it so hard
so sad
to dance in the presence of humans as the only life in the room
no roots to tickle my feet up to my knees
no branches to inspire my waving arms
no tall grasses to nudge my inner thighs
no sun shining to squint my eyes
no insects to buzz and "disrupt" with their divine intervention
bird calls
the scent of broken yarrow
non-humans can be our greatest teachers
in this dance of living, of feeling

towards season's end

How delicious to see these blog posts and recipes!

Wrist exercises have become routine; as has chair-sitting, dreaming, bewilderingly enthusiastic twenty questions games riled up on caffeine to spice up the monotony, the arguments about music (often Israeli now, with the introduction of Amir into our community-- but punctuated by Deep Forest and Freedom and reggae) reggae reggae

ohhhh my goddess! pumpkin coconut soup. Hadas did it again.

Can I get some more bud buddies, Felicia?

When I was sitting on the shitter this morning....

some new music for the new generation!

snatches, repeated. we are growing closer and learning more about each other as we sit. I admire how Shane picks up after everybody, collects the eggs, quietly. I try to do the same.

Can't wait until we're working outside again! Push through, should be less than a week now.

(Brown rice, chopped almonds, raisins, and caramelized onions)

(Dates, corn flakes, sunflower seeds, flax)

(Breathlessly uphill)

snippets of tuesday

i wake early to attempt to gather myself.
it has rained over night
the trunk of the palm outside my window is dark
it is nearly 8
and the city has not quite woken up, soon the honks of scooters
motorcycles rickshaws trucks cars and buses will fill the air.
a child yells,
hammers strike unnamable somethings

i lean out
to smell the morning air and i recoil
this city smells
of exhaust, of processed food rotting in its packaging, soaked in
dog's urine, chewed on by goats and cows, rotting again in their
stomachs.
there are so many lives in this space, (massive banyon&mimosa trees
emerge from every patch of dry earth, green everywhere)
but i see little happiness.
except in the faces of the girls at the school where i go to play.

i saw two dead dogs yesterday. the first time i've seen that. lying on
their backs in the sunlit gutter, stinking, i wonder when they will
disappear.
also yesterday alex (a friend) asked somewhat facetiously where the
mystical india was that he came to find himself in. i said not in the
cities, hannah says i dont believe in finding myself.

i fasted yesterday, and was tired in the morning, but pepped up when
necessary. a good exercise for every month, maybe more. i am thinking, gathering words about the body, ascetism, renunciation, liberation, immortality, devotion, god, the everything. reading the upanishads (beautiful text) and bhagavad gita (krishna is an asshole).
this weekend is diwali. our class scatters for week-long breaks. i go
solo to delhi and the himalayas.

"what do you do when life can't always be beautiful?" writes alonso from cusco, high high in the andes. 

p.s. dunno why the formatting/line breaks are funky. we'll deal.