the last night on the island. darkness drifting after some late afternoon storms, with hail even. time. to go. gathering things into the usual one suitcase, one travel bag, one day-pack. realizing that I might never be back here, because other things might happen. anything can happen, anytime. on the phone around Scandinavia (taking maximum advantage of the telecom possibilities). so many items to consider, with workshops popping up in Norway, Lithuania, Denmark, and Iceland during just a short period in the fall. keeps the blood moving and the mind alert. always that way. coming three things at once.
with the three-month residency behind now, reflections? nope. life passing, life passing, life passing. concern about this makes for time burnt without even the rising smoke of holy incense. only floating in the drift of human development. is the historicity of change merely the gained perspective of time spent in this incarnation? the perception of the increasingly predictable in genesis, but largely chaotic in application, range of human interventions that destroy life rather than nurture it? and the Buddhist who is not attached to all of it.
okay, giving up for now. closing connections, unplugging cables, powering down, packing the last bits and pieces.