Saturday, October 27, 2012
Our hired guide
led us to the banks of the "Perfume River" in Hue, Vietnam. There, a long dock housed many colorful boats awaiting passengers. Decorated in bright colors and shaped like dragons, these watercraft beckoned to passers by.
Ours was a small, unassuming boat with a young captain in his twenties who shook the hand of our guide. His young wife, baby in arms, helped us step aboard. Once we all were seated, she untied the line that bound us to the dock, and we glided away from our brightly colored neighbors.
The river was calm
and peaceful as we glided away. It gave me a chance to take in my surroundings. The tropical air, warm and wet with humidity, was fresh as the breeze blew through the open cabin. I noticed the young mother playing with her son as they sat in a small area. There was a rice maker in the corner and I wondered: "Do they live here?"
what kind of life they must have, ferrying passengers, raising a family, living on a ship. How do they survive?
I gazed out on the river and began to notice other boats passing by, some empty, some filled with passengers. This must be the way of the river. This must be what their lives are about.
we reached our destination. The captain skillfully motored in so that his young wife could tie us off. We each stepped off the moving craft with the help of the firm handed guide, and the captain. He and his young wife both smiled warmly as we bid them farewell.
Saturday, October 20, 2012
There is an ancient notion
that the heart knows the right way, the mind is not to be trusted. All we see and feel and experience is filtered through the mind. Stories are created by our minds, and changed so that our world all fits together and makes sense.
Yet we forget
about the wonder and mystery of who we really are: How did we get into this body? What happens to our minds when we sleep or when we die?
Questions like these
can stump our minds and create mystery. Mystery keeps us from knowing, keeps our minds at bay and allows us to hear what our hearts are saying.
I enjoy the "not knowing" the expansiveness of the mind when its not always commenting, interpreting, and trying to make sense. Who are we, really?