On nothing at all

I haven't been in to practice for the last few days but I suppose that technically, every moment is practice. I'm riding the scooter which is so much fun and always questioning what is really me and what is conditioned. Yes, that was me drinking coffee at breakfast the last three days. Yes, that was me on the right side of the road but mostly I've got the left thing down (it is a lot less strict than hand differentiation).

I've reached the end of my dizzying catapult into this new place and am now starting to make out the edges of all the boundaries. Like where I end and where nothing begins. I'm starting to realize that there is no other lump in the bed besides my pillow and that the loss of human connection is a hole that is not easily filled. I'm beginning to remember the spoons. I want this month to go quickly so that you'll arrive sooner, but I want it to go slow because this is all the time we have.

Tomorrow I'm back at the shala and I feel like it is where I'm supposed to be (naturally). It just makes sense. I feel like I have no say in what happens from day to day but have all the say in what I attach. Or maybe it's just the altitude. You know who you are.