Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing,
There is a field. I'll meet you there.
When the soul lies down in that grass,
The world is too full to talk about.
Ideas, languages, even the phrase "each other"
Doesn't make any sense

-- Jelauddin Rumi Sufhi poet

Saw that on an advertisement in the subway today. One of those things that you scramble to find a pen and paper to write down and hope you can read it later because the train was moving so fast.

Went to the march in NYC. Got a little motivated, sun, a lot of fun, and tired. There were no Republican protesters and I am a little disappointed. I kept looking for them because last year that was definitely one of the highlights. Watching an old woman yell at some smart ass kid that one day he'd get drafted and have to kill people. It's 11 pm, I've had a little wine, and that doesn't seem funny at all right now.

I talked to Sarah about India intermittently all day. I've never had the chance to hang out with her for so long a period of time and I'm glad I did. We were carrying around our signs which at one point had been taped onto long cardboard tubes, but ditched the signs and walked with the poles all day until we had to head home. She left hers on a sidewalk in the hopes that maybe some kid would find it and use it for a jedi sword like we did, but I kept mine in the hopes that I will be able to make something extraordinary out of the ordinary. If it's still a big tube in a week, I'll throw it out. My life feels cluttered ...or unorganized, but my room doesn't need to be.

Where I Lay My Head Is Home
Haven't slept in my own bed since Sunday night. Walking into Jenai's room, sitting outside with Bethany ... things that make me feel Home. My philosophy on Home is something I think about a lot, something that has come up since I left and then came back, and is just a topic that I want to and need to reflect on. Ok, so, I know I have a home. The confusion about whether or not I do is gone. I have a physical home on Bushman Ave... but I also have Home feelings. I don't hate where I come from. I appreciate it just as I acknowledge that my whole life (no matter its downs) has made me who I am and I'm happy with who I am. But there is something to be said for being able to feel that level of comfort in different places that are not Bushman Ave. And I do believe it is a person's sense of self and who they are surrounded by that help nurture or destroy a Home feeling in any given place.


I didn't buy anything at the march today because I feel that, in my case, it would have been misdirected consumerism. One can argue that all the money goes towards a good cause and that "one" would be completely 100% correct. But I know that part of me wanted to pull out my wallet because I have a need for "stuff". And a sense of entitlement that I should have Stuff. I couldn't justify buying a patch, shirt, or jewelry no matter what the message. Yes, these are good ways to let people know where you stand and maybe start asking questions, but right now I could only feel OK buying books. Because while material items such as clothing, stickers, buttons, etc.. start conversations, it is more important to maintain them and be able to finish them in an informed and fair way.
I wonder if I would feel this way if I had more money or if I had not just come back from India where I realized that I might not have a lot by U.S. standards, but I have so much. And if I had not recently met people who didn't have any cute buttons, patches, bags, or t-shirts that advertised where they stood, but only had their education, Heart, and opinions.

this is all in progress, evolutionizing. I am in progress, reflecting, and changing. and that is beautiful. if it's messy, something that inspires epiphanies, confusing, thrilling, or scary ... it is still very beautiful.