On the road to Saigon

Gliding from one mountain peak to the next, one day, two days and before I could even catch my breath, a few weeks have gone by. My soul dances with the rhythm of my footsteps but my mind frowns at the fact that I am moving at a slower pace than it enjoys. I have been sucked into another one of life’s gorgeous vortices.

The mischief, the organized chaos, the smog, the gummy smiles, the rivers, the trees and the earth embrace me… tightly and almost against my will. I feel shackled by pleasure.

A frustration brews within me. Like a little child seeking attention, my inner-being wants to have a conversation, a debate, a dialogue of some sort, any sort, but my “self” is running wild and indulging in all the pleasurable encounters that come its way. The lessons are endless and pleasures are a dime a dozen, I tell my “self”, calm down and let’s come down from this high, let’s descend to our equilibrium. With difficulty I pull myself away for a moment to be confined to the solitude of my dormitory room. A candle is lit, a soft tune is played and my ritual begins. But I fail to connect and get grounded.

In a city unknown to me I sit in a quiet garden and suddenly feel my mind flee rapidly into a place I had lived in in the past. The feeling of reflecting on what had once been soothes me and fills me with a warmth synonymous to a comforting blanket after a period out in the cold.

Still in a state of disconnect, but with awareness of the disconnect I wander away from those familiar to me by way of introducing myself to them and fall into the presence of men whom I feel like I have known for years. The conversation simmers slowly and fragrantly, eventually and unintentionally leading to my feet being planted into the ground and I feel my roots penetrate and suck the nutrients that my inner-being has being craving. I have found what I needed, what I didn’t know how to point out or look for. Gratitude ensues, gratitude for being where I am and doing what I have chosen to do, gratitude for all the beautiful “chance” encounters and spectacular events that have taken place.

Life, you cunning and sneaky beast, I love you!

“If I cease searching, then, woe is me, I am lost. That is how I look at it – keep going, keep going come what may.” – Vincent Van Gogh

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