Return to Freedom
June 20, 2008
The day before my foot surgery, I grabbed my chance at my last adventure before looong days of sitting around [sigh] recovering. So I hopped on my bike and criss-crossed and wove down the mountain with the wind in my hair to the beach.
These rocks lay on the margins of the ocean and create tidepools. Over time, the ocean has carved little holes (about the size of your fingertip) into the porous rock.
He’s long gone, but his shell still ponders in the tidepools.
Wild mangoes.
Average roadside banyan.
This very white guy (haole as we say 
learned to make these traditional palm baskets from Hawaiian elders because he… well, really wanted to know how to do it. He told me they last for 70 years once dried out. I found it amazing that someone can take to a culture so readily and so beautifully that is not one’s own. I guess, maybe, that was the scenario of devotees in the 70′s – they went against all norms to pursue the essence. Very huge kudos to them. I don’t know if I would have had it in me.
A tourist couple stopped while we were chatting, and the wife asked for a flower on her basket. So he made one right in front of us.
I find there is beauty in the patterns of nature and people and life. Like breathing.
My cast comes off tomorrow.
A Night With the Firefly
March 29, 2008
painting (c) robin street-morris
The moon shines like a lamp
the air cool and still
out on the deep sea of lawn
confidential figures converse and chuckle
“Let’s go,” my friend whispers
and clasps my hand
We plunge in
When we arrive at those figures
they peer up at us, grinning
“Please,” my teacher says,
“Join us,”
We settle onto the
dew-laden lawn
For an hour I listen
to words flow around me
and I capture this moment
here with my beloved teacher,
like cupped hands
sheltering a firefly
And I know that when we stand
and brush off our clothes
I have soaked in the light
imprinted this memory
deep in my heart
and shall drop my hands
and release the firefly
to continue its quest for the moon.
Goodnight unto you.
Tour of Alachua (3 of 5): The Road to My Soul
November 25, 2007
I have walked this road hundreds of times. If a road had a personality, we’d be the most steadfast and deepest of friends.
I find it fascinating that this road is on temple property, and yet even on Janmastami – the biggest festival day of the year – I can still slip out to the hushed quiet of this winding road.
To the sunrise, the sunset, the stars, heat lightening, the full moon, a meadow of wildflowers, the whisper of Spanish moss… this is my escape.
Bus Tour Glories
August 12, 2007
This Bus Tour blows my mind. There have been moments in the past two weeks when I wanted to capture every image, every emotion in my head – like a camera – to carry around with me always. I have been breathtaken by nature so many times that the song Mama mana mandire runs through me constantly. I take in royal blue lakes, crystal clear streams, mighty oceans, emerald green forests, thousand-year-old trees…
Ah, yes, the bhajans. Bhajans on the bus, bhajans in a cement corner while it’s raining (ON US), bhajans at a rest area, bhajans under the trees, bhajans around the campfire… I feel my passion for bhajans igniting once again like a powerful fire.
And of course, the people. The people ARE the Bus Tour. I find myself breaking out of my comfort zone and connecting with people I never thought I would. I feel inspired, uplifted, and also bittersweet, for this may be my last summer tour.
Time flows on. And on. And here is a meditation that I have been pondering all summer, “Time I am, the great destroyer of the worlds.” - Bhagavad Gita
Views From Paradise
July 15, 2007
Srila Prabhupad once said that Hawaii is a remnant left over from the previous Yuga.
I believe he has a point.
The view from our house.
Sri Sri Radha Raman, my parent’s Deities.
