Deserts Hate Me: A Tale Of Un-Tough Skin

Seattle’s winter taught me something new: deserts hate me. In the deepest cold of February, as the upper left coast shivered in a frigid, deeply embrace, my skin burned. Cracking, peeling, bleeding, the lack of moisture in the air brutalized me. Far more painful that I remember.

Over the years I dreamt of journeys through the Southwest. Wandering the desert canyons, a soundtrack featuring R. Carlos Nakai, perhaps tied to a writer’s retreat, I explore the zen within the arid land. Tranquility filling my soul.

Now I fear my skin crumbling off my bones. Needing to bathe in moisturizer. Not the most pleasant imagery.

Perhaps my mind exaggerates. It often plays such tricks on me. The dream still lingers. No harm, I guess, in holding that. Maybe the tranquility compensates for the damaged skin.

Such randomness within in my mind.

Unfamiliar with R. Carlos Nakai’s music? His native flute music carries me deep within, speaking to my depths.

 

A Week’s Movement

A week; a moment 

Blur of daylight into night

Flows into winter

In this world that values busyness, it’s hard to focus. Mindfulness consumed by the God of more, of efficiencies. It’s easy to lose sight of what’s important and end up losing far too much time focused on the wrong things. When our actions don’t build towards something greater, we lose so very much. 

A Reflection on Alan Watts: A HaikuĀ 

Straightening out life
Violates its core nature
We must let it be


This haiku is my response to Alan Watts’ quote “you’re only making a mess by trying to put things straight. You’re trying to straighten out a wiggly world and no wonder you’re in trouble”. I find this very relevant in today’s climate.