The river needs to take the risk of entering the ocean because only then will fear disappear, because that’s where the river will know its not about disappearing into the ocean, but of becoming the ocean.”―Osho
As always, thought-provoking and interesting topics, Priya. When I lived in San Francisco in my medium young years, I had a friend who I so enjoyed and when we got together for coffee on a Saturday morning, she'd always have in mind a topic for discussion. It may sound weird but it was really great. One doesn't often meet people who want to philosophize or 'think on it' much, at least after college it seems. Maybe I just wasn't lucky that way. So it was really fun to prepare to use the old head-bone!
Pryia - I so love your writing! I most often can see what you describe...
For a while, decades ago, when I was between marriages and my child was living well on his own (in San Fransico), I thought about moving away from the Western New York area. I took a gig delivering trucks from place to place, essentially being paid to see much of the country. (This was prior to my acquiescing to the then-emergent cell phone fad with its ever-ready camera.) So often I observed places I would have loved to capture on film. Early one autumn morning I was heading east in the mountainous area of western Pennsylvania. The sun was just rising, and the valleys I passed were shrouded in fog. It looked so amazing, the sun's rays grazing what appeared to be frozen clouds hiding villages below. At that time, I thought how much I appreciated being gifted this display of nature. If I could carry a journey photo in my wallet, it would be that.
When (if?) life settles down a bit, I'd like to analyze that choice... a photo without people, taken when traveling solo from some anonymous place to some other anonymous place.
Richard, that sounds like a gorgeous photograph! There’s magic in thinking about the picture we choose and the why of it. I think every bit of information gives us a clearer understanding of ourselves, what shapes us and what drives us. Why we are the way we are. I find it fascinating but also useful and empowering. I’ve learned to travel prepared for the accompanying distress, a kind of holding my own hand.
In examining our choice of photo, we go down to some depth of our being.
Thank you for sharing and for your company! I appreciate it.
On too many journeys, I didn’t want to go. I didn’t want to leave my family and home. I wanted to sleep all night instead of staring at the ceiling all night before my soul caught up with my body because of jet lag. I didn’t want to travel to many of the places I traveled to because of work. I know it sounds ungrateful for the opportunities I had to experience new places, but they were mostly places normal people couldn’t or wouldn’t be allowed to visit.
Although now I have a dream to return to many of those places. When I traveled there for work, they were broken and bloody places, but so many have recovered. It would be wonderful to see them again as places where people are living good lives again. It would bring closure, in a not cliched way, because so often, my last memories were of misery. I want to see them in better times.
Mr. Switter, I’ve always thought that going when you don’t want to go is an immediate act of courage. And I can understand why you would want to see the places again. Thank you for sharing.
Thank you for sharing this moment, Priya! I really enjoyed your description, from the "honeyed" taste to the "smell of chocolate" to the persimmon tree (also -- you have a persimmon tree?!).
My little sister wanted to drop off some Thanksgiving food for a friend. Her friend lives in our old neighborhood. So, she asked me to join her so we could see our parents' former brown brick where we ate pesto pasta for dinner and raced scooters with neighbors over 10 years ago. We drove by then drove to our elementary school to walk around the slides that look so small now. That's the moment I keep in my wallet.
Anna, thank you for sharing. It sounds so poignant and beautiful.
I realized that in moments that are most precious to us we realize both the significance and beauty as well as how fleeting it all is. Much love to you! 💕
mind's kinda blown away at your question, "how does one live if one is afraid of life?" i will definitely attempt a response! still ruminating. I usually never go anywhere with a wallet, but I have a clear phone case in which I keep some pressed flowers, metro card, & a photograph of my grandmother.
The most precious ‘item’ in my wallet is the memory of my last conversation with my father which he ended with ‘I will miss you’ (as I was leaving the next day). These last words have stayed with me all these past 13 years and provide a constant solace in the darkest of times.
As always, thought-provoking and interesting topics, Priya. When I lived in San Francisco in my medium young years, I had a friend who I so enjoyed and when we got together for coffee on a Saturday morning, she'd always have in mind a topic for discussion. It may sound weird but it was really great. One doesn't often meet people who want to philosophize or 'think on it' much, at least after college it seems. Maybe I just wasn't lucky that way. So it was really fun to prepare to use the old head-bone!
Sounds like a great way to spend Saturday morning, Jeanine! I think we all need friends like that!
Pryia - I so love your writing! I most often can see what you describe...
For a while, decades ago, when I was between marriages and my child was living well on his own (in San Fransico), I thought about moving away from the Western New York area. I took a gig delivering trucks from place to place, essentially being paid to see much of the country. (This was prior to my acquiescing to the then-emergent cell phone fad with its ever-ready camera.) So often I observed places I would have loved to capture on film. Early one autumn morning I was heading east in the mountainous area of western Pennsylvania. The sun was just rising, and the valleys I passed were shrouded in fog. It looked so amazing, the sun's rays grazing what appeared to be frozen clouds hiding villages below. At that time, I thought how much I appreciated being gifted this display of nature. If I could carry a journey photo in my wallet, it would be that.
When (if?) life settles down a bit, I'd like to analyze that choice... a photo without people, taken when traveling solo from some anonymous place to some other anonymous place.
Richard, that sounds like a gorgeous photograph! There’s magic in thinking about the picture we choose and the why of it. I think every bit of information gives us a clearer understanding of ourselves, what shapes us and what drives us. Why we are the way we are. I find it fascinating but also useful and empowering. I’ve learned to travel prepared for the accompanying distress, a kind of holding my own hand.
In examining our choice of photo, we go down to some depth of our being.
Thank you for sharing and for your company! I appreciate it.
On too many journeys, I didn’t want to go. I didn’t want to leave my family and home. I wanted to sleep all night instead of staring at the ceiling all night before my soul caught up with my body because of jet lag. I didn’t want to travel to many of the places I traveled to because of work. I know it sounds ungrateful for the opportunities I had to experience new places, but they were mostly places normal people couldn’t or wouldn’t be allowed to visit.
Although now I have a dream to return to many of those places. When I traveled there for work, they were broken and bloody places, but so many have recovered. It would be wonderful to see them again as places where people are living good lives again. It would bring closure, in a not cliched way, because so often, my last memories were of misery. I want to see them in better times.
Mr. Switter, I’ve always thought that going when you don’t want to go is an immediate act of courage. And I can understand why you would want to see the places again. Thank you for sharing.
Sometimes my courage was pretty weak sauce.
I tell myself that whatever, however much, I can gather or cobble together, matters.
One foot in front of the other, going forward into the unknown. That’s all it is.
I really liked that river metaphor! That gave me pause.
As for what I keep in my wallet, there is a photo of me and girlfriend dressed up nicely at a wedding.
Lovely post Priya :)
That’s so sweet, Michael! Thank you for sharing!
Thank you for sharing this moment, Priya! I really enjoyed your description, from the "honeyed" taste to the "smell of chocolate" to the persimmon tree (also -- you have a persimmon tree?!).
My little sister wanted to drop off some Thanksgiving food for a friend. Her friend lives in our old neighborhood. So, she asked me to join her so we could see our parents' former brown brick where we ate pesto pasta for dinner and raced scooters with neighbors over 10 years ago. We drove by then drove to our elementary school to walk around the slides that look so small now. That's the moment I keep in my wallet.
Anna, thank you for sharing. It sounds so poignant and beautiful.
I realized that in moments that are most precious to us we realize both the significance and beauty as well as how fleeting it all is. Much love to you! 💕
mind's kinda blown away at your question, "how does one live if one is afraid of life?" i will definitely attempt a response! still ruminating. I usually never go anywhere with a wallet, but I have a clear phone case in which I keep some pressed flowers, metro card, & a photograph of my grandmother.
What a precious photo to carry with you. Thanks for sharing, Mohika!
The most precious ‘item’ in my wallet is the memory of my last conversation with my father which he ended with ‘I will miss you’ (as I was leaving the next day). These last words have stayed with me all these past 13 years and provide a constant solace in the darkest of times.
Nimmy, that’s such a beautiful and poignant moment to hold close. Thank you for sharing.