‘a good traveller has no fixed plan and is not intent on arriving’ – lao tzu

i never really got it.

i’m on a train from montreal to new york city. we’re travelling through the adirondacks. and i’m kicking myself because all i want to do is write, but i look out the window instead and want to look out the window but write instead. it’s an unnervingly beautiful paradox i find myself caught within. the train sounds.

graaaaaap. graaap graaap graaaaaaaaaaap.

i don’t want to get off this train. i don’t want to arrive. i am happy and comfortable and still, for now. i know the next few weeks won’t stop. i know i’ll be all tied up in the bustle and the busy days and the getting from here to there.

but how exciting that will be! nights of four-hour sleep, stiff muscles from cramped spaces, new city smells and faces, the change in the air, in the everywhere.

and i’m not headed for anywhere, just riding minute by minute today and here and now on this train with the shaking and the moving and the graap graap graaping and the sweet simple thoughts of one day in montreal and kissing a boy, just a stranger just before.

i’m not wishing this to end, i’ll happily stay aboard until it stops. and every second i fall more in love with each second floating by and it comes in one big perfect wave of everything that starts from one small blood-red drop in the oceans of our hearts.

lost at lost lake

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[photo: lost lake, oregon]

i dive into the lake. a snow-capped mount hood stands majestically, she doesn’t even notice me here. underwater now, i’m taken by surprise as i open my mouth and taste clean, bland, fresh water. you’re not by the ocean anymore! it shouts all over my tastebuds. it’s cold and goosebumps send chills through my blood, beating warm just minutes before.

this doesn’t look real, i tell her later, it’s as if i’m dead and dreaming. it’s as if this all rose up from my imagination, creating a scene from scenes unseen and seen before. but, really, it’s incredible.

i’ve never known anything like it. and everyday challenges that, and everyday i say the same. everyday i feel the difference. i wonder if that would ever end.

we leave and take the old, snaking road back to the valley. i sit in the doorframe of the car as it winds through tall trees, so dense, that smell like the earth, open air and christmas. the wind hits me hard in my smiling face and dries my gums. i laugh and breathe so deeply. oh, this is living. yep, this is living well.

love park

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love. my favourite thing in this world – what i live for, why i breathe, why i dream… what it’s all about.

because life is nothing without love.