It took a change of the air to show me.  It’s different where ever you are.  The taste, the smell, they’re all unique.  I’m at the free computer in the Adelaide Hostel.  I’m tired.  But the feeling of that fresh, fresh wind is still in my nostrals.  More importantly, it’s in my being.  There’s so much garbage there though; so much fear.   Where I am now is in a hostel in my mind.  I’ve taken a journey from where I was to where I am now, and it feels different, but I’ve carried something of what was with me.  It’s a chance to feel, to see the contrast.

I look in the mirror and I see a face.  It’s older, tired, more full, sad a bit, confused and uncertain more.  The crisp air, just another whiff before I go to rest.  I need some “law of club and fang” to harden my sinews and my flesh and my will.  It’s all gone a little soft.  The New York state of mind seems big, but it’s a frog at the bottom of a well – a frog that’s never seen the ocean and sees his well to be the world.  For me, I’ve seen the ocean, but mired in so much, with so many distractions and forces around me.  For heaven’s sake!  I’m drained.  And, I’d started to believe that the well was the world.  It’s so easy to forget.

How can I go about not forgetting?  How can be sure to remember?

Set intentions.  Write them in big black and red letters on the wall.  With green pokadots.  Then wake up and pour a bucket of cold water over my head.  Then go do something, the intention.  I think I’ll try that when I get back to NYC.  I’ll do it at least once.