Muizenberg. The beach town that became my home last year has tricked me. Tricked me into thinking it was the same, that I could pick up where I left off, but so much has changed. I find myself lost in thought, struggling to be present amongst this beautiful beachy community. Why am I here? I question why I came back, what I’m doing with my life, what does it mean? I look for answers amongst the sea and the mountains, my two favorite things, perfectly complimenting each other. Surely I’ll find my answers as I walk between the things I love the most. Continue reading “Surf Therapy”
Afro: Born of African Spirit and Heritage, see also black (not always), see also rhythm and color, see also other, underdog. Punk: as in rebel, opposing the simple route, looking forward with simplicity, rawness and curiosity, see also other, underdog. Afropunk, as in where I ended up on New Year’s Eve in Johannesburg, South Africa. Clearly, more along the punk lines than the afro, nevertheless, I randomly wandered into this music festival with curiosity. Continue reading “Afropunk”
From the Midwest, to the mountains of Zürich, the rough streets of Johannesburg, to my final destination: picturesque Cape Town, South Africa. How silly of me to think it would be as it was before. The mountains still stand, clouds rolling over the top of Table Mountain like waves, the lively streets are the same, the familiar shops greet me, but it’s different. I’m different. I play my own movies of what was, feelings of another time, I know this change, in fact I’m aware enough to expect it, but now I feel it. Continue reading “Water”
What did I get myself into? How did I end up here? Providence, Rhode Island. Brown. Reoccurring thoughts cart-wheel through my busy mind as I kick up crispy orange/yellow leaves scattered about the old New England campus. The truth is – it’s hard. I’m struggling. When I’m having a hard time, I don’t write. Because what if you knew that I doubted myself? That I questioned if I’m smart enough and capable enough to be here? Maybe I am if I believe I am. Some days I do and others I don’t, but I show up anyway. Continue reading “I Think I Can”
My intention was to get a coffee, an accomplice to my escape from a 2 week-old-not-quite home, my retreat into Massachusetts to meditate. Pay attention, or you’ll miss it – Shelbourne Falls snuck up on me and completely captivated me. It has a desolate, quint, yet charming nature that immediately drew me in. I practically jumped out of the car to walk down Main Street, taking in the antique shops offset by magnificent trees standing tall on mountains in the background, historic decor beckoned to me, inviting my imagination to join it, as if walking through another time. Continue reading “Shelbourne Falls”
What a strange feeling to have an unfamiliar home. To unpack all your worldly belongings in a space you’ve just seen, and call it home. I’ve had this idea I’ve nurtured for a year, plans I’ve made, a picture I once saw from a thousand miles away, and accepted as my future home. I’ve unpacked all the pieces of me as quickly as I could, as if the faster this unfamiliar space becomes adorned with my belongings, the swifter I’ll adjust and become comfortable. That’s not how this works you know, can’t fool a pro – I’ve done this before. Comfort, along with familiarity comes with time, the former is fleeting, the later lingers, mutates, and can remain in some ways even for a lifetime. Continue reading “The Road to Providence”
Vipassana – to see things as they really are.
I sit on a cushion in a low lit room with my eyes closed. My whole body tingles and I am weightless, completely unaware of the outside world, and even the other 30 something people sitting around me. What am I feeling? Change. Everything changes, constantly. I feel the particles my body is made up of change every second, my thoughts change, my feelings change. Non attachment and equanimity is what I’m seeking. Equanimity with every sensation I feel, not attaching to it, not avoiding it. Continue reading “Vipassana”