it's raining, it's pouring, the old man is snoring

so, it's been since early may since i last graced these pages with my dribble and random thoughts. to be truthful, it was for two main reasons i stopped writing, and they are related. first, i didn't feel like i could publish what i wanted to write without taking stupid risks in doing so. and second, there was nothing else that i really wanted to write about. but alas, i will start this whole thing up again.


for today i will leave you with this. i love my life. it's more adventurous than i ever imagined it would be. and it's harder too. it's seems a strange paradox, the ways that the Heavenly Father gives and takes away from our lives. often taking something previously given and giving something previously taken. it's strange math if you ask me. but it's math that adds up to eternity. it always adds up to life, and the end sum always seems to grow larger too. like i said, strange math.

just ask yourself, 'can i make myself who i dream of being?' if so, then wow. wow. if not, then you're in good company. just let the Father's peace become your administrator (Isa 60) and relent in shaping your own life. the more i do so, the more i see myself doing. and the more i live out my dreams.

coming soon...
pictures of austria, germany, and dubai and some stories to boot

inspirations

how many times in your life have you sat down and thought that you would like to do something truly remarkable, something that just might change the world, or at least someones life?

i was scanning the pages of cnn last night and came across time magazines 100 most influential people in the world. i read this list every year, and sometimes i am inspired, and sometimes i wonder what the criteria for selection are, because the choices are strange. but last night i spent at least 2.5 hours reading each persons blurb--all of them but oprah's and a few other people that are already talked about way too much. i came away inspired in what i am doing. i was reminded that everyone, by making a few choices, can become a world-changer. i was also encouraged that i am not yet older than the youngest people on the list, and the majority of them we well into their 60s, leaving time for nearly all of us to rise to the occasion.

the list is filled with eco-evangelist and political talking heads, but they are more or less boring to me; though i will still vote for obama if he is nominated, and will not vote if hillary pulls it out. so, i thought that i would leave you with a few of the people that inspired me. there are only a few that i became really interested in and read more about, and they are not all world-wide power brokers like you might think.

aung san suu kyi


yoani shanchez


indra nooyi


this morning i went back over the list to see if i had forgotten anyone. nope. i find that a bit sad, although it is just my take, but only 3 people on the list inspired me. many of them are doing amazing things, but these three made me think i can do more in life too. i also could not see how a few of them made the list, i.e. robert downey jr., karl lagerfeld, judd apatow, and mariah carey.

so i ask, where will you make a difference, even if only a small one? i know i have a few ideas i am currently working on.

5 dollar holler

i did my taxes yesterday. and guess what, i am getting a $5 return. that definitely is going to settle any financial problems i might have been worried about. it's funny though, the thing that kept me from getting 100x that for my return was the amount of time i spent in the U.S. this last year. to get my full refund i needed to live in the U.S. for more than half the year. i took this literally and did the calculations. i came out having lived in the U.S. for 180 days, that left me 3 days short of getting the rest of that money in my return. and you know what else is funny, i would have qualified for the economic stimulus package too if i'd been in the states those 3 days. hmm, 3 days cost me about $1100. nice. but i can't complain, the government already gave me $15,000 for my research, so all is well.

ever had a piece of meat stuck in your eye?

you're not going to believe me, but i have. today i was eating noodles for lunch, and you know how noodles can fling about while being slurped into the mouth. well, one such noodle flipped a little piece of meat up into my eye--meat with spices on it. straight past my always in place safety goggles and directly onto my eyeball! man did that sting. it took about 2 minutes to get it out and even longer to be able to open my eye without it stinging badly.

so imagine all this and some 40+ year old chinese guy sitting at the table beside me watching the whole thing. i swear--although i could only see with one eye--that his facial expression did not change one bit. it was like he'd seen it all before; no need to react. par for the course. usually if they give much reaction at all its to gawk. but this guy just sat there, ignoring his own plate of noodles watching tears well in my eye, rubbing it and trying to find this little piece of rouge meat.
and finally when i did i am sure i looked like half a druggie, with one eye bloodshot and red all around.

just another day in china. well, that and i have not had a shower in 3 days, not been able to flush my toilet, thanks to no water in this part of the city. fun.

falling softly to the tune of a screaming guitar

just beyond my window snow falls softly--fluttering, dancing to the ground. like leaves falling on the stillest of days, each flake indecisively makes its way downward, to it's fate--at least for today--to melt under foot. in the back ground explosions in the sky plays over my borrowed radio. it's a perfect storm of sorts. like the beginning of the snow fall was choreographed with the song 'catastrophe and the cure.' beyond the growing haze of flakes a market full of vendors presses on in pursuit of the days wages, or at least enough to afford to eat their own fruits and vegetables at the end of the day. whereas i have the leisure of watching from behind glass, with a cup of tea between my fingers, theirs ply the trade, while voices cry out 'yi kuai, yi kuai, yi kuai.' it is of no beauty for snow to fall for them, that is the prerogative of someone looking out from a distance. it is a nuisance, one that can make the day more than miserable. not to mention, if the temperature drops too low it can ruin their stock. perhaps in a while i will take a walk in the mounting drifts of snow.

a few pics from the last three weeks

i spent about 9 days in shanghai for chinese new
year. it was a time of comforts, as you can see.

monks listening at the monlam prayer festival mani teaching.

an overview of the mani teachings from the hillside above.

a beggar sitting in the pathway of all the religious pilgrims
making their way around labrang monastery. what a
face, huh?

my hiatus

sorry all, i have not been able to sign in to my blog for nearly a month. it appears that the problem is now resolved.

so here is a song that i want to share, there are two others, but they will not upload. listen to it while i prepare some new posts to revive this floundering blog. i'll be right back.

samamidon - saro

deep freeze

i sit writing this while staring out of ice clad windows. crystals swirl and intersect making it impossible to see whether it it still snowing outside or whether the sun has finally woken from it's slumber.

most days i rise to find the temperature below zero, in fahrenheit, with the temperature rising on warmer days to 15. it's a whole new world for this texas boy. but i love it. i just have to get used to wearing long johns every day and wrapping my face in a scarf to avoid frostbite as i wait for the bus.

the city is quiet too. it's like business and commerce went into hibernation. as i walk into the market to buy fruits and veggies i encounter huge mounds of burlap covered tables and only when i stop does a stay-puffed marshmallow looking woman come out to see what i want. early in the morning the streets have that windswept, abandoned street feel from a movie, with only a few brave souls scurrying across.

but like i said back in october i love cold weather. the romance of it still holds me captive. it's like conquering something every time you go out and huddle among the shivering masses. like hushing the voices of any fears that would say to stay warm and comfy inside. perhaps, too, it let's me live out the inner fantasy of living like a nomad on the great plateau; my breath rising to the sky like incense to life, wrapped in a yak skin blanket, reliant upon little but that which is necessary. i guess that is part of why i love the cold, it is so deeply tied to my romantic visions of life. i am blessed that i get to live those out, even if only partially.

route 1095

a few days ago a friend and i woke up early one morning rode over to the scooter rental shop and picked him up a hot pink yamaha. we wanted to ride from chiang mai out to this hippie village called pai. i already had my day glow green honda wave and all that was holding us back was finding him a suitable bike.

we rode off at about 9 in the morning without much expectation, other than we would see some beautiful scenery and would encounter a horde of grungy backpackers in pai. as we turned from highway 107 to route 1095 we sensed the change, from heavily traveled city roads, we turned onto a country road with small villages dotting the hillsides.


we passed rice laden patty's, small chalet-like resorts sitting up on mountain sides, small villages with larger populations of dogs than humans, and many road-side coffee shops. who knew thailand was so addicted to coffee; well, maybe they aren't, but the bazillion tourists are for sure. guilty as charged.


about 30 minutes after making the turn onto route 1095 we would encounter what makes this such a famed journey. up and down we wound our way through 120 kilometers of squiggly lines. it took nearly 3 hours to cover that distance. but it was well worth the nearly crawling pace we were sometimes reduced to. as i road i could not escape the sense that it was an extreme blessing to ride through such immaculate terrain, knowing that among the mountains dwelt elephants, monkeys and birds beyond my imaginations. the forests ranged from low land tropical rain forest, with banana trees out the wazzu, to pine forest in the upper reaches of the mountain passes. there is little that smells better than pine trees.



in all we road 762 curves over 125 kilometers. working that out with a calculator we figured that there was a curve roughly every 500 ft. sitting in pai i doubted this claim of 762, but on the ride back i realized that it had to be true. a shirt for sale in pai summed it up best with a picture; imagine a squiggly line drawn in the area the size of a sheet of paper with the lines intersecting and crossing a hundred times. in other words, to drive 5 kilometers as the crow flies you had to drive 30 of curves up and over mountains, where it seemed you were doubling back on yourself constantly.

pai, itself, was less than spectacular. it certainly wasn't the horde i had expected, but their aftermath was widely visible. it seems there is little else besides restaurants and guesthouses to serve the needs of tourists. there were at least 100 of each in this town of 1000-2000 thais. we only stayed one night, as there was little to do other than eat, drink and sleep near the river. i've always been amazed how little communities like this can have great western restaurants of every sort, while big asian cities can struggle to produce even an adequate pizza. it's weird how supply and demand works. but for all its excess of touristic kitsch, it was a relaxing little hamlet--at least that is the way i will remember it.

on second thought pai did have something that shocked me, an incredible sense of self awareness. it had that 'keep austin weird' or 'i heart ny' style self identity. there were t-shirt shops everywhere selling trendy little t's with distinctly local designs. i bought two. apparently all the good t-shirt designers live in pai, because everywhere else the shirts are horribly tacky.


during the ride back i realized another aspiration for my life, to travel by motorbike across some great distance. this was a great little trip, but it was only 2 days. i now want to do a month or two my bike following some classic route. the silk route is too long, but perhaps the ancient trade route linking delhi to afghanistan, or maybe an easier and safer tour of europe on two wheels would do. anyway, i've got the bug to travel by bike.

finally, in totally unrelated news, i've picked up a copy of charlie wilson's war, the book the movie is based on, and have thoroughly enjoyed it. the story is very little like what i expected. and its 'true.'

again

i'm reading it again--cormac mccarthy's the road. my mother gave it to me for christmas last year and i finished it before the final scraps of wrapping paper were found and discarded. compelling and frightening, that is how i would describe it.

i was walking through my hostel in bangkok and saw it sitting there. so i picked it up and started reading. just like the last time i find myself negotiating for one more chapter before putting it down for some sleep. it's so beautiful because, like the phantom of the opera, the reader is put in control of the imagery. mccarthey paints just enough to start you off, but the reader fills in the shades of gray.

this time through i am struck by something i barely saw the last. the fathers conversation with the Almighty. it's a brutal conversation.

"he woke before dawn and watched the gray day break. slow and half opaque. he rose while the boy slept and pulled on his shoes and wrapped in his blanket he walked out through the trees. he descended into a gryke in the stone and there he crouched and he coughed for a long time. then he just knelt in the ashes. he raised his face to paling day. are you there? he whispered. will i see you at the last? have you a neck by which to throttle you? damn you eternally have you a soul? oh G od, he whispered. oh G od."

i am not sure why i like this conversation. maybe because it's truth from the inner most of the father's soul. perhaps it is because i see the beauty in such a threadbare soul pouring itself out before it's Father as though there should be nothing to hide. faith. confidence. understanding, that in a world where hope is a rumor long lost, this man still sets his face heavenward. if you think about it you'd like to say you'd act like job. but would you really? the psalms teach me that an unleashed and free-to-speak heart is what is most faithful. so, i suppose i like this conversation because it is the one i would speak. not out of denial of Him, but out of a desperation for Him.