Nepal

Almost everyone thinks 
that I’m in Nepal.
Sampling momos and peeping glimpses of the Himalayas. 

Oh, and I wish I were there. 

Walking and talking with the sherpas through heat and snow. Holding on for dear life through landslides and steep terrain and roads unpaved through mountain passes. Applying for permits and findings guides and porters and home-stays, wishing I’d brought my own sleeping bag and taking photos that I’d tell myself I wouldn’t post.

Picking up threads of Hindu and Buddhist wisdom. Learning how to meditate. 

Breathing in prayers and sharp gusts of gratitude. 

Refining my knowing through the witnessing of more and more of my self.

But even Nepal is a distraction from you, if you are me and the time is now. 

Even the silence of a 21 day meditation retreat or a thousand monasteries would steal from you your true nature and what it is that your soul is dying to tell you, if you were in my metaphorical shoes. 

And I don’t know why that is but I do know that I am meant to be here. 

Despite my disappointment. Despite my anger and my annoyance and my despair. 

Despite my longing desires for traveling and seeing myself through my seeing of the world. Despite my restlessness and desperation for something else to tell me what the fuck I am to do with my life. 

Because even I lose sight of what my life is supposed to look like and baby, I’ve lost it. 

And there isn’t a teahouse in Nepal or a guru on this planet who can give it to me. 

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June 12, 2023