In NYC...

Wondering what to do with the three days between New Jersey and the Himalayan Institute which is my next destination.  NYC kept calling.  I came here on the train from Metropark in NJ.   The train moved at a snail pace which allowed me to keep glancing out of the window, I was feeling very tired and felt the energy of the full super moon,  my traveling companion.

Here I am at the Colonial House Inn, in Chelsea.  It really really feels like a home.  Manifesting at the opportunity or maybe a possibility to come and stay here for longer periods of time.  I am told by front desk that January to March are the slow months hence better rate.  Winter time in NYC?  If its in my bucket list, then I guess it will happen.

Meanwhile the next few days will be a "revelation" time.  That is the theme of this trip.

Rooftop at Colonial House Inn

View of NYC fire escape 

Lower East Village, LES

What was past - August 2012

Signed the papers at the lawyers'. 

The feeling of complete emotions.  A sense of freedom and the realization that "wow I was able to fulfill some purpose; looked after me and my responsibly.  Without burdening anyone". 

The closing on August 31st.  

All with blessings and renewal.  An opening and writing of the next chapter. 

 

I plan to love love and live life as it unfolds.  

Would I continue iWork (this is autocorrect) to design the blueprint or create space for life to design as it lives, through me? 

No se. 

A walk on a sunny and cold day, March in the city...

What separates the thoughts from running into each other and overwhelming the thinker?  Is it the ability to be an observer of the thoughts.  An observer is one who has the ability to be aware, to watch, to not be the subject but be able to create a distance between the thoughts and the feelings.  The question comes up? Who is this observer?   Is the observer also another form of thought?

As I  think these thoughts and write/type them using two thumbs it occurs, in the stream of my thinking, the similarity of how we as 'beings' are separate from each other.  At times we seem to all blend into each other, especially in crowded places, yet  what keeps us separate?  Could it be the same sense, that the observer uses, which makes us aware of our boundaries of separation? 

I am sitting in downtown Toronto, in a busy space at Tim Hortons coffee spot.  The woman in front of me places her coffee and a small paper bag on the table.  She closed her eyes, clasps her hand and I sense rather I feel an energy of gratitude in her before she bites into her chocolate covered donut, a sip of coffee and I see she is reading the free newspaper.   What stories she must have to tell.  A treasure box of life experiences.  Did she see herself as she is now ? What would she see if she went back ten years? Twenty? Thirty ? Fifty ?  Would she see herself as a small child playing, by herself.  

I feel a strong desire to write her story! Tears well up in my eyes, tears of compassions or maybe familiarity, what of myself am I seeing,  in her?   I wonder?   She looks around, her glance reminds me of the look of a chicken, her gaze is not steady, it darts as if being on her guard, an empty look in her eyes.  I notice her lips, which are moving as she continues to read.  

I finish my coffee...

An idea, intention or suffering

Holding on to an idea.  I wonder about this.  

For example when I am putting out an intention or when I am dreaming how I want to live my life, it is after all an idea.   Should I hold onto that idea?  The answer comes back as yes.  Then I ask will attaching myself to the idea become the base of my suffering?

Sometimes the idea involves others or another person.  The idea finds a life of its own. It begins to grow and seems to find its nourishment through all the interactions.  It's like I begin to look at life in a skewed manner and yet to me it seems so real.  

This morning  after a night of vivid dreams I felt like the lifting of a veil.  I began to see how I had attached myself to an idea in the past few years and just like that I saw clearly that the idea will never be viable. It will not happen because it never was there.  I had been creating and reading a story, and repeating that story to myself.  All a figment of my imagination and my desires.  

And so as I prepare myself for the full moon, the first symbolically of 2014, and I intend to release that story.  Only by doing this will there be space for life to unfold and show me what is my purpose, the divine grace and what life wants me to have.  

Another release of a story.  A letting go of an illusion.  Of making my peace with life.