Thursday, June 12, 2008


from the train

Someone emailed me recently and expressed that she did not know how I did it, seeing another class graduate; most of the students I have known for many years. How I must feel like I am losing some piece of myself each year. And in thinking about it, she is right. I have always been torn up at the end of the year. There are people I will truly miss. I like to think that I will see them all again, and I certainly will see some. But others...

Some years ago, not long after I met Y, I began work on a piece that I see as continually in progress; I wrote a tiny parable about a man who, upon waking infested with fleas, swims straight out in the ocean, toward the sun. Little did I know then that this is a parable that is true for me. I will probably never complete the piece, just as the man will never reach the sun.

1 comment:

she said...

-that does seem a difficult part of teaching; saying goodbye

this parable reminds me of two things: a scene in eat, pray, love

elizabeth is in india, i believe..
meditating. and for all of her life until that very day, she had impulsively swat mosquitoes away from her -but for the first time, she becomes non-reactive, and just lets the mosquitoes bite

and: all things are impermanent.

i think sometimes.. all things are incomplete

everything and everyone; always in process