Thursday, August 1, 2013

return to the source

There is no fanfare. No drama. No tearful goodbyes. No last kiss or lingering look to latch onto. There are no cliffhangers in this airport scene. I seem to have drained my well of sadness during the previous weeks of grieving. And the other? The one who I traveled across half the globe to be with (again!)? Long gone too, gone before I even embarked to meet him, gone before I really took notice.

Instead, I take a taxi on my own from Barcelona's Poble Sec, after sharing some potent healing days with my new women folk/guardian angels from Spain and South America, dancing with energy, hugging trees, eating with simplicity and love.

At the airport, I check in through to Osaka. I board another plane, this time taking me eastward, even further east then where I originally set off from less than two months ago.

East: the beginning place, where the sun rises. This is a start, not an end, I remind myself...

Today, after a seemingly endless journey, I walk the city streets of Osaka, in awe of the change of scenery before me, Japanese aesthetics, the sweetness in the people, a whole world translated in a another culture, another lens. I, too, feel different here.

I marvel at the mystery of living. I recall the image of the flower of life, but one that pulsates and transforms, a kaleidoscope of infinite patterns and possibility, whose mathematics is incalculable yet infallible. Every inhale, has an exhale. Every contraction has a corresponding expansion. And at every given moment, we are pulsating, this beautiful creative mess of a living thing, opening and closing, closing and opening, guided by some unseen force to go further beyond the beyond and at the same time delve deeper and deeper within. 

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