Holy Cow by Sarah Macdonald
I picked up this book because I thought it was going to be a about a woman's hardships in backpacking through India. It really ended up being a travel log on her spiritual journey throughout India. It was not what I was expecting but I think it's what I needed.
It is an easy to read, crash course on the different religions in India (& the world). From Hinduism, Buddhism, Judaism, Jainism, Muslim, Christianity, and more. This mediocre, sometimes funny, personal account, is a "guide book" that I can use as a good stepping stone as I continue to ground myself in my own faith.
I try to convince myself that I am comfortable with my relationship with God. Not just within the past couple of days but in other testing moments, I find myself in doubt and breaking my own faith. I am currently being stripped of my faith in God, my faith in myself, my faith in people, and the whole idea of faith itself.
I feel like I'm on the tipping point of my own spiritual journey and I need to start over and draw a map of where I want to be at the very end.. well, at least the general direction.
7.30.2008
7.28.2008
Where do I even start?
Alright, so much has happened the past couple of days I really don't know where to begin. This will be really lengthy, but I'm going to break it up the best way I know how. So read as you see fit.
P.S. My laptop died, it's matay. I'm on the hotel computer. Maybe it's going to laptop heaven now that it's died in India.. shrug. This also means posting pictures may take a while.
-Bangalore/Ahmadabad bombings
-Mahanagari Express!! (Train ride)
-Varanasi: The Holy Hindu City
Bangalore/Ahmadabad bombings
As I was on the train from Bombay to Varanasi on the 25th there was a series of bombing in Bangalore. The next day, while still on the train, there was another bombing in Ahmadabad. The bombings claimed 45 lives and injured hundreds. These are cities far from where I'm at. An Indian group claims responsibility but there are fingers pointing to Pakistan and Islamic groups. Attacks such as these are not new to India and have been aimed mostly at religious institutions. The country is apparently in a state of panic but the streets of Bombay bustle just the same as I have left. I suppose it takes much more than death to shake up this city, I have no interest in finding out what will. They've buffed up security at all airports & train stations but they are facing a shortage of officers. I have been disconnected from any form of news the past couple of days so a lot of this is still registering.
Mahanagri Exress #1093/4: The Train Ride
"MAA-HA-nah-GAH-ree (roll the R) Express!!!" I have that stuck in my head. I caught the train to Varanasi at 12:10am. I had a yelling fit with another bureaucrat (I seem to have that quite often here). He said that my ticket wasn't valid despite having my confirmation number and all. Long story short, I had to get another ticket. I was determined to get to Varanasi!
My new ticket only allowed me into General Seating. Meaning, no sleeping berths, just wooden benches. An elderly man pleaded with me to go to the Women's Compartment.
For a total of 31 uncomfortable hours, I spent 12 of them sleeping on a wooden chair and the other 19 on a wooden plank 7ft off the ground that was meant to serve as a shelf for luggage. It's all good cause mothers trust me enough to play with their children as the mothers sleep. I became the unofficial au pair of the compartment.
I vowed not to use the bathroom for the supposed 28 hours (really 31) as these trains are not luxury trains as you can imagine. But when you have to go, you have to go. I was cracking up in the bathroom and as I was hysterically laughing I was thinking, "What are you doing venturing off alone in a country where you don't understand the language and they regard you as crazy!? You're in a train for 28 hours, sleeping on a wooden plank & you're popping a squat in a train with a smell that is probably chemically burning your clothes!!! REALLY NOW!?" I had to pull myself together because as I was walking out women were pulling their young ones close to them. I think the door was thinner than my apartment walls (I didn't think it was possible).
Coming back the train ride was less eventful. But the train station was not! The Varanasi Foreign Tourist Center (a little redundant if you ask me) was extremely helpful. I ended up staying over night because of some mix up. A lot of travelers were of European descent. No overseas husband just yet. hah!
Hours later, I am trying to call the fambam. I have to fight my way to keep my spot in line but when I finally get to the phone it won't work. The phone attendant chooses to ignore me and as I'm yelling for attention the phone is snagged out of my hand! The guy next to me says in an Indian accent, "Fight for it, otherwise you won't get anything." As I turn, I'm in awe. In front of me is a brown skinned, brown eyed Toby (from Hidmo). I am speechless. Toby, being one of the most dreamiest guys I know, has an Indian twin! Who also happens to be my phone-knight-in-shinning-armour. He grabs the phone back, picks up my pad to dial the number I need. Then walks away coolly. I convince myself that he is going to the Hidmo of India.
Varanasi: "Older than history, older than tradition, older than legend, and looks twice as old as all of them put together" Mark Twain on Varanasi
I really have to give you an abridged version of my time spent there. I'm still processing the oldest and one of the holiest cities in the world. I spent 2 days at the great Hindu city. My tour guide, Anil, explains to me that Varanasi is most famous for five things:
1. The Holy River: The Ganges River. It is common to see people bathe themselves in the river as it is known to absolve all their sins. Dead babies are floating along the river as it guarantees them a ticket to heaven. No doubt my boat ride at dawn has proven so.. the dead babies at least, I can only hope they're in heaven.
2. The Burning Ghats: There are two well known burning ghats, the most popular and biggest one of them is the Manikarnika Ghat. They publicly cremate bodies. I cannot begin to explain how something so frightening can be so sacred. There are 365 ghats along the Ganges River. I remember because I like to believe they built a ghat every day of the year.
3. The Temples: Anil said there are 99.1 temples in Varanasi. I don't know if this is true or how he got .1 but he also said that every home is a temple. I especially liked the Durga Temple (dedicated to the Hindo God, Shiva's wife who has 9 heads).
4. The small streets: I hated this. It was a maze of alley ways that made it impossible for me to remember where my hostel was. It scared me too. I never left the hostel without Anil.
5. Moghul Town: Silk: Varanasi is a huge silk exporter. They make and sell silk wholesale. I got to see a Muslim town where they hand made silk from old school looms. It was beautiful.
From there, I wanted to move on to Gaya to see the Bodhi Tree (a sapling of the tree where Buddha gained enlightenment) but I was strongly advised not to go because of the bombings. The little Buddhist in me cried. But it was all good because there was a yearning to learn more about Hinduism. It was funny because right as I was leaving Varanasi I was also just finishing Holy Cow by Sarah Macdonald. I'll reflect on the book in another entry but this was the passage that I thought was fate that I should read right as I was leaving:
P.S. My laptop died, it's matay. I'm on the hotel computer. Maybe it's going to laptop heaven now that it's died in India.. shrug. This also means posting pictures may take a while.
-Bangalore/Ahmadabad bombings
-Mahanagari Express!! (Train ride)
-Varanasi: The Holy Hindu City
Bangalore/Ahmadabad bombings
As I was on the train from Bombay to Varanasi on the 25th there was a series of bombing in Bangalore. The next day, while still on the train, there was another bombing in Ahmadabad. The bombings claimed 45 lives and injured hundreds. These are cities far from where I'm at. An Indian group claims responsibility but there are fingers pointing to Pakistan and Islamic groups. Attacks such as these are not new to India and have been aimed mostly at religious institutions. The country is apparently in a state of panic but the streets of Bombay bustle just the same as I have left. I suppose it takes much more than death to shake up this city, I have no interest in finding out what will. They've buffed up security at all airports & train stations but they are facing a shortage of officers. I have been disconnected from any form of news the past couple of days so a lot of this is still registering.
Mahanagri Exress #1093/4: The Train Ride
"MAA-HA-nah-GAH-ree (roll the R) Express!!!" I have that stuck in my head. I caught the train to Varanasi at 12:10am. I had a yelling fit with another bureaucrat (I seem to have that quite often here). He said that my ticket wasn't valid despite having my confirmation number and all. Long story short, I had to get another ticket. I was determined to get to Varanasi!
My new ticket only allowed me into General Seating. Meaning, no sleeping berths, just wooden benches. An elderly man pleaded with me to go to the Women's Compartment.
For a total of 31 uncomfortable hours, I spent 12 of them sleeping on a wooden chair and the other 19 on a wooden plank 7ft off the ground that was meant to serve as a shelf for luggage. It's all good cause mothers trust me enough to play with their children as the mothers sleep. I became the unofficial au pair of the compartment.
I vowed not to use the bathroom for the supposed 28 hours (really 31) as these trains are not luxury trains as you can imagine. But when you have to go, you have to go. I was cracking up in the bathroom and as I was hysterically laughing I was thinking, "What are you doing venturing off alone in a country where you don't understand the language and they regard you as crazy!? You're in a train for 28 hours, sleeping on a wooden plank & you're popping a squat in a train with a smell that is probably chemically burning your clothes!!! REALLY NOW!?" I had to pull myself together because as I was walking out women were pulling their young ones close to them. I think the door was thinner than my apartment walls (I didn't think it was possible).
Coming back the train ride was less eventful. But the train station was not! The Varanasi Foreign Tourist Center (a little redundant if you ask me) was extremely helpful. I ended up staying over night because of some mix up. A lot of travelers were of European descent. No overseas husband just yet. hah!
Hours later, I am trying to call the fambam. I have to fight my way to keep my spot in line but when I finally get to the phone it won't work. The phone attendant chooses to ignore me and as I'm yelling for attention the phone is snagged out of my hand! The guy next to me says in an Indian accent, "Fight for it, otherwise you won't get anything." As I turn, I'm in awe. In front of me is a brown skinned, brown eyed Toby (from Hidmo). I am speechless. Toby, being one of the most dreamiest guys I know, has an Indian twin! Who also happens to be my phone-knight-in-shinning-armour. He grabs the phone back, picks up my pad to dial the number I need. Then walks away coolly. I convince myself that he is going to the Hidmo of India.
Varanasi: "Older than history, older than tradition, older than legend, and looks twice as old as all of them put together" Mark Twain on Varanasi
I really have to give you an abridged version of my time spent there. I'm still processing the oldest and one of the holiest cities in the world. I spent 2 days at the great Hindu city. My tour guide, Anil, explains to me that Varanasi is most famous for five things:
1. The Holy River: The Ganges River. It is common to see people bathe themselves in the river as it is known to absolve all their sins. Dead babies are floating along the river as it guarantees them a ticket to heaven. No doubt my boat ride at dawn has proven so.. the dead babies at least, I can only hope they're in heaven.
2. The Burning Ghats: There are two well known burning ghats, the most popular and biggest one of them is the Manikarnika Ghat. They publicly cremate bodies. I cannot begin to explain how something so frightening can be so sacred. There are 365 ghats along the Ganges River. I remember because I like to believe they built a ghat every day of the year.
3. The Temples: Anil said there are 99.1 temples in Varanasi. I don't know if this is true or how he got .1 but he also said that every home is a temple. I especially liked the Durga Temple (dedicated to the Hindo God, Shiva's wife who has 9 heads).
4. The small streets: I hated this. It was a maze of alley ways that made it impossible for me to remember where my hostel was. It scared me too. I never left the hostel without Anil.
5. Moghul Town: Silk: Varanasi is a huge silk exporter. They make and sell silk wholesale. I got to see a Muslim town where they hand made silk from old school looms. It was beautiful.
From there, I wanted to move on to Gaya to see the Bodhi Tree (a sapling of the tree where Buddha gained enlightenment) but I was strongly advised not to go because of the bombings. The little Buddhist in me cried. But it was all good because there was a yearning to learn more about Hinduism. It was funny because right as I was leaving Varanasi I was also just finishing Holy Cow by Sarah Macdonald. I'll reflect on the book in another entry but this was the passage that I thought was fate that I should read right as I was leaving:
Of all the wild, mad, hair-raising stops in my spiritual journey through the subcontinent, the most holy Hindu city of them all has branded itself on me most boldly: Varanasi on the Ganges. Downstream from Kumbh Mela and upstream from hell, it's a city that attracts the faithful and the freaks and those dying or being bid farewell. Souls sent from this place on earth go straight to heaven. A few weeks ago, on a hotel roof above India's holiest city, Jonathan and I inhaled clods of hash spiced with wafts of singed hair and burning bodies. We walked among Varanasi's rats, dogs and street urchins as they competed for garbage in a maze of twisting dark alleyways and stained palaces that rot into the black mud. At dawn we floated in a wooden boat past candles, flowers and human ashes in holy waters littered with bobbing bloated bodies.I knew I was at the right place and apparently Sarah Macdonald is telling me the same thing through spiritual wavelengths.
7.24.2008
Day 2 in the City of No.
I wake up at 7am to get ready and explore. I step out of the hotel not having ANY sense of direction or purpose. So I walk and walk and walk and walk. Until finally, I come to the conclusion that I need to find the train station. So I navigate my way through directions given to me in Hinglish (Hindu-English).
Then off to get some food. I don't know what most of the food is made up of but I see Cheese Sada Dosa. I know what cheese is, I'll take it. My waiter says, "No, you have this one" pointing to the Ghee Butter Sada Dosa. I say, "But I want the cheese.. I like cheese." He said, "No, you like butter, no cheese." Then walks away. I find it amusing and I figure, Only in India. So then comes my dish and I pretty much breath in the triangular, quesidilla looking, yellow spiced potato goodness.
While some people affectionately call Mumbai the City of No, I consider it the City of Honking Horns, or the City of Defying Death on the Streets. I keep my poker face on all morning trying not to let the taxis faze me as they brake within inches of me. The drivers are so skilled I don't doubt their depth perception. No one bothers to take the traffic suggestions. My only way of knowing it's my turn to walk is if there is someone in front of me about to brave the streets. I wish I understood the traffic system here, if there is one. It's like organized anarchy on the road. There are no rules but there is a silent understanding between drivers.
I make it a mission to find myself some traditional Indian clothing. So I test out my haggling skills. & it works. I bought a beautiful purple silk sari, priced at 550, for 400. So I'm wandering around Churchgate, again with no sense of direction. Everything looks very Victorian, thanks Britain.
& here I am re-packing for my 28-31 hour train ride to Varanasi at midnight tonight. Oh what an adventure that'll be.
Then off to get some food. I don't know what most of the food is made up of but I see Cheese Sada Dosa. I know what cheese is, I'll take it. My waiter says, "No, you have this one" pointing to the Ghee Butter Sada Dosa. I say, "But I want the cheese.. I like cheese." He said, "No, you like butter, no cheese." Then walks away. I find it amusing and I figure, Only in India. So then comes my dish and I pretty much breath in the triangular, quesidilla looking, yellow spiced potato goodness.
While some people affectionately call Mumbai the City of No, I consider it the City of Honking Horns, or the City of Defying Death on the Streets. I keep my poker face on all morning trying not to let the taxis faze me as they brake within inches of me. The drivers are so skilled I don't doubt their depth perception. No one bothers to take the traffic suggestions. My only way of knowing it's my turn to walk is if there is someone in front of me about to brave the streets. I wish I understood the traffic system here, if there is one. It's like organized anarchy on the road. There are no rules but there is a silent understanding between drivers.
I make it a mission to find myself some traditional Indian clothing. So I test out my haggling skills. & it works. I bought a beautiful purple silk sari, priced at 550, for 400. So I'm wandering around Churchgate, again with no sense of direction. Everything looks very Victorian, thanks Britain.
& here I am re-packing for my 28-31 hour train ride to Varanasi at midnight tonight. Oh what an adventure that'll be.
7.23.2008
Mumbai, I'm here!
So I've made it!
My travels have been good so far. I met this guy Jose in Seattle who was in the oil industry. He said, "America is searching for black gooey stuff in Alaska. People don't know it & the people who do, don't like it." For a 4am discussion, it was pretty interesting. I don't know how it happened, or why, but from Seattle to Newark my seat got upgraded to First Class. There's a first time for everything. The guy next to me was really nice & funny, we were the only ones who laughed out loud while watching Penelope.
Arriving at Newark, I made my rounds of calls. Then I met up with a good friend from high school, Edimund, who works in the airline industry. It was so good catching up with him.
Then 15 hours of airplane goodness. I've been blessed with a gift of being able to sleep through what others consider unbearably lengthy travel conditions. I do not take it for granted at all.
I arrived in Mumbai at 9pm and it was humid and hazy from what I'm guessing is the pollution. My professor & I had the same flight from Newark to Mumbai so arriving here I felt some comfort already knowing someone. She had told her family that she was arriving with one of her students.. being me.. & so when they picked her up they had a bouquet of flowers for her and me! Her mother shouted at me, "WELCOME TO MUMBAI!!" Her family was extremely nice. I could tell that they really want me (& the other students as well) to get a good first impression of India & they did so wonderfully. She had her driver take me to my hotel after dropping them.
The airport is considered to be in the suburbs of Mumbai & my hotel was "in town." The driving time between the suburbs and town is about an hour and a half. This city is huge. I think a lot of it has to do with sitting in traffic & many abrupt stops to not hit the pedestrian on the street. So many things here remind of the Philippines.. it's crowded, polluted, humid, cars running amok, children on the street, street vendors. Because I got a glimpse of Mumbai only in the night time hours, I'm too excited to see when light shines upon the city.
While people speak Hindi here, the people I've run into thus far understand and speak English. There is some struggle understanding under thick accents but I like it. What I found ridiculous however was when my professor's driver turned on the radio and 50 Cent was playing. I didn't want to be rude and ask him to change the station but I really do hope I won't have to hear any more American pop music while I'm here.
Oh & since being in the hotel room, I've got a glimpse of beautiful, heavy, warm rain.. & I've been watching what looks like an Indian soap opera. I have no clue what is going on but it looks really dramatic.
My travels have been good so far. I met this guy Jose in Seattle who was in the oil industry. He said, "America is searching for black gooey stuff in Alaska. People don't know it & the people who do, don't like it." For a 4am discussion, it was pretty interesting. I don't know how it happened, or why, but from Seattle to Newark my seat got upgraded to First Class. There's a first time for everything. The guy next to me was really nice & funny, we were the only ones who laughed out loud while watching Penelope.
Arriving at Newark, I made my rounds of calls. Then I met up with a good friend from high school, Edimund, who works in the airline industry. It was so good catching up with him.
Then 15 hours of airplane goodness. I've been blessed with a gift of being able to sleep through what others consider unbearably lengthy travel conditions. I do not take it for granted at all.
I arrived in Mumbai at 9pm and it was humid and hazy from what I'm guessing is the pollution. My professor & I had the same flight from Newark to Mumbai so arriving here I felt some comfort already knowing someone. She had told her family that she was arriving with one of her students.. being me.. & so when they picked her up they had a bouquet of flowers for her and me! Her mother shouted at me, "WELCOME TO MUMBAI!!" Her family was extremely nice. I could tell that they really want me (& the other students as well) to get a good first impression of India & they did so wonderfully. She had her driver take me to my hotel after dropping them.
The airport is considered to be in the suburbs of Mumbai & my hotel was "in town." The driving time between the suburbs and town is about an hour and a half. This city is huge. I think a lot of it has to do with sitting in traffic & many abrupt stops to not hit the pedestrian on the street. So many things here remind of the Philippines.. it's crowded, polluted, humid, cars running amok, children on the street, street vendors. Because I got a glimpse of Mumbai only in the night time hours, I'm too excited to see when light shines upon the city.
While people speak Hindi here, the people I've run into thus far understand and speak English. There is some struggle understanding under thick accents but I like it. What I found ridiculous however was when my professor's driver turned on the radio and 50 Cent was playing. I didn't want to be rude and ask him to change the station but I really do hope I won't have to hear any more American pop music while I'm here.
Oh & since being in the hotel room, I've got a glimpse of beautiful, heavy, warm rain.. & I've been watching what looks like an Indian soap opera. I have no clue what is going on but it looks really dramatic.
7.15.2008
Traveling from Elizabeth Gilbert
Elizabeth Gilbert's bestselling, heart warming, beautiful, humorous, inspiring Eat, Pray, Love, has a chapter describing the type of traveler she is and the type she isn't. I wonder which one I'll be. Enjoy.
Truthfully, I'm not the best traveler in the world.
I know this because I've traveled a lot and I've met people who are great at it. Real naturals. I've met travelers who are so physically sturdy they could drink a shoebox of water from a Calcutta gutter and never get sick. People who can pick up new languages where others of us might only pick up infectious diseases. People who know how to stand down a threatening border guard or cajole an uncooperative bureaucrat at the visa office. People who are the right height and complexion that they kind of look halfway normal wherever they go -- in Turkey they just might be Turks, in Mexico they are suddenly Mexican, in Spain they could be mistaken for a Basque, in Northern Africa they can sometimes pass for Arab...
... ...
I'm bad (or, rather, lazy) at researching a place before I travel, tending just to show up and see what happens. When you travel this way, what typically "happens" is that you end up spending a lot of time standing in the middle of the train station feeling confused, or dropping way too much money on hotels because you don't know better. My shaky sense of direction and geography means I have explored six continents in my life with only the vaguest idea of where I am at any given time. Aside from my cockeyed internal compass, I also have a shortage of personal coolness, which can be a liability in travel. I have never learned how to arrange my face into that blank expression of competent invisibility that is so useful when traveling in dangerous, foreign places. You know -- that super-relaxed, totally-in-charge expression which makes you look like you belong there, anywhere, everywhere, even in the middle of a riot in Jakarta. Oh, no. When I don't know what I'm doing, I look like I don't know what I'm doing. When I'm excited or nervous, I look excited or nervous. And when I am lost, which is frequent, I look lost. My face is a transparent transmitter of my every thought.
Truthfully, I'm not the best traveler in the world.
I know this because I've traveled a lot and I've met people who are great at it. Real naturals. I've met travelers who are so physically sturdy they could drink a shoebox of water from a Calcutta gutter and never get sick. People who can pick up new languages where others of us might only pick up infectious diseases. People who know how to stand down a threatening border guard or cajole an uncooperative bureaucrat at the visa office. People who are the right height and complexion that they kind of look halfway normal wherever they go -- in Turkey they just might be Turks, in Mexico they are suddenly Mexican, in Spain they could be mistaken for a Basque, in Northern Africa they can sometimes pass for Arab...
... ...
I'm bad (or, rather, lazy) at researching a place before I travel, tending just to show up and see what happens. When you travel this way, what typically "happens" is that you end up spending a lot of time standing in the middle of the train station feeling confused, or dropping way too much money on hotels because you don't know better. My shaky sense of direction and geography means I have explored six continents in my life with only the vaguest idea of where I am at any given time. Aside from my cockeyed internal compass, I also have a shortage of personal coolness, which can be a liability in travel. I have never learned how to arrange my face into that blank expression of competent invisibility that is so useful when traveling in dangerous, foreign places. You know -- that super-relaxed, totally-in-charge expression which makes you look like you belong there, anywhere, everywhere, even in the middle of a riot in Jakarta. Oh, no. When I don't know what I'm doing, I look like I don't know what I'm doing. When I'm excited or nervous, I look excited or nervous. And when I am lost, which is frequent, I look lost. My face is a transparent transmitter of my every thought.
7.12.2008
Lately
I leave in 8 day for India. A lot of anxiousness going on. I will be on my own for the first 10 days gallivanting around in a country of 1 billion people. The other 3 weeks I'll be with a group of 20 journalism students. Most of whom I find to be wound up so tightly I fear for their well-beings. No joke.
The first 10 days will be the first time on my own in a different country whose culture and language I am not at all familiar with. Reading up and second hand stories can only take you so far. I put India on such a high pedestal; I am afraid of being overwhelmed.. or even underwhelmed. I feel like I'm looking for something more than an adventure and I really shouldn't be.
Aside from that, I've been enjoying the northwest summer. The sun is out everyday & my skin is paying the price with red blotches from being sun burnt. I overindulge in the sun.. some may even say I live in exxxcess. (haha! inside joke)
I'm chatting with my 15 year old brother. He's giving me dating advice. I guess he senses that I desperately need it. Hah!
The first 10 days will be the first time on my own in a different country whose culture and language I am not at all familiar with. Reading up and second hand stories can only take you so far. I put India on such a high pedestal; I am afraid of being overwhelmed.. or even underwhelmed. I feel like I'm looking for something more than an adventure and I really shouldn't be.
Aside from that, I've been enjoying the northwest summer. The sun is out everyday & my skin is paying the price with red blotches from being sun burnt. I overindulge in the sun.. some may even say I live in exxxcess. (haha! inside joke)
I'm chatting with my 15 year old brother. He's giving me dating advice. I guess he senses that I desperately need it. Hah!
6.26.2008
Part 1 1/2
I hate when people don't feel validated.
I wonder if people could see the head chatter on my face.
I love taking the bus around Seattle, just not waiting for it. This truly encompasses everything I love about it:
I've always wondered what my soul would sound like if it were music or what it would look like if it were to be a piece of art.
I wonder if people could see the head chatter on my face.
I love taking the bus around Seattle, just not waiting for it. This truly encompasses everything I love about it:
I've always wondered what my soul would sound like if it were music or what it would look like if it were to be a piece of art.
5.05.2008
Part I
I love the sound of laughter the same way I love the sound of clapping.
I find it funny when there are exclamations in textbooks cuing you in to be excited about the information. It reminds me of nap time in kindergarten: I never liked it but it was always helpful.
I try my best not to use filler words: uhm, like, long drawn out so, so yah. or saying, "I don't know," but still continuing to talk as if I did know. I don't do very well on this but I try.
I wonder how many people think I'm full of shit.
I think reading my horoscope is a bad habit of mine. Even though I really try not to make it influence my day in some subconscious level I know it has.
I enjoy every phone conversation I have with my dad since being in Seattle. & they never last for more than 2minutes & 31seconds each time.
I sound silly when I say trail off with incoherent words like, blah blah blah, et cetera et cetera, or worse meerrh.
After every meal, I want to have something sweet. After every meal, I still feel distressing guilt and fear. I get scared of relapsing.
I love getting hugs. I mean real, full, feel-my-grip hugs. I've been getting side-hugs lately and they don't necessarily count, unless they're really good ones. I can only think of a few.
I don't know how much of my ego has to do with all the work & energy I put into the things I do. But I know I try to put love & intention behind all of it.
I have a hard time gaging my laughter volume.
I don't like it when my jewelry don't match my shoes.
I find it funny when there are exclamations in textbooks cuing you in to be excited about the information. It reminds me of nap time in kindergarten: I never liked it but it was always helpful.
I try my best not to use filler words: uhm, like, long drawn out so, so yah. or saying, "I don't know," but still continuing to talk as if I did know. I don't do very well on this but I try.
I wonder how many people think I'm full of shit.
I think reading my horoscope is a bad habit of mine. Even though I really try not to make it influence my day in some subconscious level I know it has.
I enjoy every phone conversation I have with my dad since being in Seattle. & they never last for more than 2minutes & 31seconds each time.
I sound silly when I say trail off with incoherent words like, blah blah blah, et cetera et cetera, or worse meerrh.
After every meal, I want to have something sweet. After every meal, I still feel distressing guilt and fear. I get scared of relapsing.
I love getting hugs. I mean real, full, feel-my-grip hugs. I've been getting side-hugs lately and they don't necessarily count, unless they're really good ones. I can only think of a few.
I don't know how much of my ego has to do with all the work & energy I put into the things I do. But I know I try to put love & intention behind all of it.
I have a hard time gaging my laughter volume.
I don't like it when my jewelry don't match my shoes.
4.14.2008
Feeding my soul
So Seattle for the past couple of days has been hosting the Dalai Lama. I think the most intriguing thing for me about the Dalai Lama is how he exudes an aura of happiness and tranquility. I mean I've met people who intrigue me or are very charismatic, but I don't think I can compare anyone else to how the Dalai Lama makes me feel.
p.s. i'll keep you update on my contribution to the movement
p.s. i'll keep you update on my contribution to the movement
4.01.2008
Creature on Fire
This is a creature on fire with love, but it's still
scary since most people think love only looks
like one thing, instead of the whole world.
~Brian Andreas
Good morning.
scary since most people think love only looks
like one thing, instead of the whole world.
~Brian Andreas
Good morning.
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