May 2009
2 posts
I know because my feet have the scars to show.
Sweat and more sweat. There’s a certain dignity to all work, no matter how you slice it. There’s something about the long haul, getting your hands dirty and scraping up your knuckles in the process. It might be the allure of asking questions you never thought to ask before, digging up unseen parts of yourself and throwing them out there into the cold light. No matter what, the fact...
Opening the time capsule.
For the first time in a month I’ve felt okay. Not okay with what happened, not okay with the way things are looking, not okay with myself. Just the feeling for the sake of itself, because, truth be told, it’s been far too long. About a month ago, when I was reading a lot of books on Zen, I remember considering the difference between the relatively tranquil, almost emotionally sterile world of...