Yes. I am calm. I am a rock in a Kyoto rock garden, tended by calm, bald monks in traditional koromos and tabi. They carry rakes, and they move elaborately, gracefully, as they create rippled patterns in the small pebbles surrounding me. There is moss growing on the walls, nine hundred years old, that surround me. These walls have seen many monks, many worshipful pilgrims, many curious tourists. Built from hard-packed earth, they are constant and watchful, the truest guardians I could hope for. A soft snow falls, blanketing me. The monks fix a vegetable and tofu oden for their supper. They are cold, but they are happy in their faith and tranquility. And I am a rock in their garden, one more piece in a calm, quiet life.
I'm trying. But I'm not zen. Not at all. I am upset. And disgusted. I hate it when life springs nasty surprises on me. That's all I can say, for now.
But I have Germany. I'm working hard on phase two of the application, because I'm determined to go. Especially now. I'm holed up in my house, at the mercy of nature (which has brought a deluge of snow to my city), and am going a bit stir-crazy. Still haven't done any Christmas shopping, which could be a problem, as Christmas is only three days away. Somehow, amid the financial crisis and craziness of this year, the holiday has been forgotten.
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