el paseo

no parting is forever. and some end much before we expect they will :). like today, after saying goodbye and even writing that post on detachment, i had the good fortune of meeting p for dinner again. on a weekday evening, where we both have enough work to crumble under, we managed a fulfilling many hours. the consequences will be suffered shortly, but what is life without the suffering of these sweet consequences? ;)

as i drove back on paseo padre to my aunt's place, late at night, i relished every moment of the drive. the moon seemed to have no business but to guide me and the path helped me keep pace with itself, as it meandered through the valleys and hills, revealing all too beautiful sights every now and then. in a moment i realized i missed p, and in a moment that feeling transformed itself into overwhelming gratitude as i recognized the blessing it was to have something as special to miss in my life. along the drive, at one point, i waited and waited at an intersection until i awoke to the fact that there was no red light, just a stop sign. the red light was just in my head ...

there is too much to write and too little time, as always. after all, a semester waits patiently (as it has all year, thus far) for me to finish with it. i did want to log in this moment though, and the haunting memory of the drive, with the path holding my hand and leading me onto it. those moments, they are special, when we are left with no doubt as to which direction we must proceed in.

and as i came back and looked at myself brushing my teeth, i realized i was really quite high on life. in the past, when that has been so, i have often immediately felt afraid about the harm that may be waiting to come my way. but in this moment, it is different. i feel an urge to say - to life - "send what you will, i will wait right here for you." and as i look for ways to express this gentle absence of fear, the words of shantaram rise to the occasion.

It took me a long time and most of the world to learn what I know about love and fate and the choices we make, but the heart of it came to me in an instant, while I was chained to a wall and being tortured. I realised, somehow, through the screaming in my mind, that even in that shackled, bloody helplessness, I was still free: free to hate the men who were torturing me, or to forgive them. It doesn't sound like much, I know. But in the flinch and bite of the chain, when it's all you've got, that freedom is a universe of possibility. And the choice you make, between hating and forgiving, can become the story of your life.