i lived in Colorado for five months out of this past year, a tremendous change from living in metropolises like New York City and Tokyo, as i have primarily lived for over a decade. i was mostly stationed in the mystical land of Crestone, a unique and powerful place that is home to various spiritual centers of varying faiths and practices. (i just found this amazing article about Crestone while researching a link for you: Shambala of the Rockies: The Mythos and Power of Crestone. the writer captures its spirit so well.) i also traveled often to Ward, Colorado, which brought me to places like Boulder, Denver, Loveland, Fort Collins, and more.
~ Yoda, Star Wars Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back ~
three days ago would have signaled my 12th anniversary of moving to NYC. today i found this draft from September 16th, 2012 (written just a month shy of my 9th anniversary of moving to NYC). in a month, i will be back in NYC, briefly, after having expanded out into the world and living in all kinds of places and spaces.
in celebration of all these anniversaries, of a great love and struggle with numbers and time, and of breaking down the very notion of time itself, herein contains the post. it comes from the future, about the past, and, i don’t know about you, but somehow all this time travel puts me right here in the present.
Most gulls don’t bother to learn more than the simplest facts of flight—how to get from shore to food and back again. For most gulls, it is not flying that matters, but eating. For this gull, though, it was not eating that mattered, but flight. More than anything else, Jonathan Livingston Seagull loved to fly.
This kind of thinking, he found, is not the way to make one’s self popular with other birds. Even his parents were dismayed as Jonathan spent whole days alone, making hundreds of low-level glides, experimenting.
Your reason and your passion are the rudder and the sails of your seafaring soul.
If either your sails or your rudder be broken, you can but toss and drift, or else be held at a standstill in mid-seas.
For reason, ruling alone, is a force confining, and passion, unattended, is a flame that burns to its own destruction.
Therefore let your soul exalt your reason to the height of passion, that it may sing; And let it direct your passion with reason, that your passion may live through its own daily resurrection, and like the phoenix rise above its own ashes.
~Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet~
Setting Sail on a Pilgrimage: Lobsterbird Spreads its Wings Once Again.