The pandemic makes it hard to get out and about. We’re stuck here and for me it’s a pretty awesome place to be stuck. I’m encased by redwoods hundreds of feet tall. They offer piece and serenity although Friday night a little windstorm blew in for about 45 minutes in the middle of night.
I didn’t know what to make of it. I wasn’t sure how long it would last. I could here the crackling of old branches being unhinged after a hundred plus years of holding on.
I lay there fascinated by all the glory of nature. How these trees that surround my abode had made it through so much natural turbulence.
The threat of fire here is a looming one.
And irrespective of this potential notion that this part of the Oakland Hills could singe with fury especially if the winds blow in the way they did the other night I’m ok.
The trees support me. They support the journey I’m on. And I’m blessed beyond measure to call this home. I sit atop the edge of a mountainside that looks out west off to the Pacific with the East calling me on the other side.
I’ve always longed for the East. It’s in my blood. I long to go back to India for an extended period of time. To the cascading hills and mountains of the Dharma sala and to perhaps pay the Dalai Lama a visit. I’m after a hug really. What a treasure it would be to get a good belly laugh in with His Holiness.
Here’s one that always cheers me up.
Really I’m not called to Europe although I’ve sprawled about a little there. I’m called to ancient holy sites of Cambodia. Ankgor Wat calls me to come.
It’s as if my Gurus are inviting me with a very personal invitation.
The pandemic seems to be forging on. Vaccines are rolling out in slow order although there are promises of 600 million to be distributed by June. I like the sound of that. According to my math we’d be just about 100 million short here in the states at two per person.
So there is promise on the horizon. It lay idly by as we continue doing what we do.
