Changing cultures

Yes, it remains exciting, but does fatigue one!! At the same time, I wouldn't give up this itinerant life for a fixed abode.
I guess it's the attempt at combining the two that proves tiring.

So now leaving western Europe ... a culture and history I am very familiar with, have studied in detail, have lived in many years... for the far East.
Traditions and languages I do no know. I try never to make the mistake of thinking: people are basically all the same (like: religions are basically hunkering after the same thing) .. it's not how I see it to be. Of course, as Shylock knew, if you prick us, we bleed. But if a European hears the word 'rose' his mental resonances will be very different from those of a Kelabit Highlander (in Borneo) (for example!).

I watch; I listen. Soon it really will be time to make a poem...
This is written the evening of David's and my departure for Bali (Villa Sarah Nafi -- another story!) and shortly after the killings in Afghanistan, Beirut, Paris, Iraq that have followed each other in daily succession; not to mention the slaughters and plane crashes that have filled the new throughout this year (2015). A shock haze shudders over France, and elsewhere too.

We want to go on hoping, and working with love and grace, for a world where hate and killing are not retaliated with more hatred and killings.

Poor mutilated world. Glorious shining world, that can be full of the splendour of holiness...