And She Emerges Out of the Desert

Yesterday, after a week of mostly solitude, except for the rising and setting of the sun and moon, along with the dust and deer of the desert, I landed in a cement desert of dust and parked cars.

After a week of being surrounded by exquisite beauty and living in a slow pace that seems to be my body's natural rhythms, I walked into an office full of people who appeared to have an urgency about whatever it was they were doing.

It was all amazingly beautiful.

I walked outside this morning on my way to my acupuncture appointment - a great way to begin my life back here in suburbia. I was immediately hit with the LOUDEST din from the traffic on streets some distance away. I remember that every time I come back from Quest or Retreat, I am amazed at how loud and foreign the din sounds. I know that a week from now, I will rarely notice that noise that surrounds me every day here.

On my way to my appointment, I waited for oncoming traffic to pass so that I could make a left turn onto another street. For some reason, an approaching car stopped and the driver motioned for me to go ahead and turn in front of him and all of the cars behind him. He had no obvious reason to do that. I drove the rest of the way wondering who that angel could have been. Kindness for no apparent reason.

I am home now, Buddha (the dog) is asleep by my feet. A few moments ago, I heard Flickers pecking on the telephone pole outside.

I used to think that desert life was more beautiful than that found in this city. It certainly is quieter. It's more pleasing to the eye, for the most part. And it feels more spacious. Still, I'm coming to understand that peace and beauty aren't found outside of myself, and in this cemented, car-infested, LOUD place full of kind people, peaceful Buddhas and wild Flickers pecking holes in anything they can find, all that I hunger for is already right here this very moment.

How did I ever get to be so lucky?