Pages 2




Last night, overhearing people setting off fireworks while I was trying to sleep, I decided to take a walk to quickly get some milk tea before going back to bed. As I walked through Forest Ct. on my way to tea, drunk people sprawled from house parties seeming all too proud of their state. Looking down to avoid eye contact, I walked quietly in bedtime slippers, overhearing a few of them yelling, at first with jokes. Sounds escalated and before I knew it I turned around to see a guy being kicked on the ground by a circle of other guys with yells interspersing. Having distanced myself from the scene, I turned, put phone to ear and yelled, "I'm calling the police" as loudly as I felt I possibly could. After a few moments, they began to look up, hesitate, and started to disperse. I quickly continued walking, got the tea, and saw two police cars parked in that place as I walked home, still keeping a far distance from Forest Ct.

Only rarely have I felt so aware of meanings we create and choices we make in this life, as human beings, artists, and friends. Without any doubt, we're all in this together. If there's any single thing I could say I learned in my short time in India, in meeting the Dalai Lama, and the monks, the students, the artists in Dharamsala, and all of the wonderful people in between, it was precisely that.

I took the photo above on a morning bike ride with a good friend of mine. In the picture Forest Ct. is the on the right, as is the entrance where I looked back. Below is one of my warmest memories from India, a Lama wishing all of his deepest hopes for our group's experience as students and making sense of our lives through and after our education. Our professor is translating his words.  I think it speaks to how very different the spaces we inhabit can be at different times, and with clearer minds, clearer actions.

No comments:

Post a Comment