Ivory Coast

I have been glued to the press reports from the West African nation of the Ivory Coast,
or Cote d'Viore; it seems the bad old days of African strongmen, belligerent of world opinion
and democratic freedoms, using the gun to project their power and secure their graft, has
returned to this once shining pearl of West Africa. Reports of mass abductions, of the military
firing indiscriminately on unarmed protesters, of an entrenched leader, still claiming to represent the people, but increasingly representing only the dying vestiges of strongman rule. Streams of refugees, unbelievably, fleeing to Liberia, which only a few years back was embroiled in its own terrible civil war. World opinion and condemnation has been strong; however, an example needs to be made of Laurent Gbagbo and his military; a multinational force, under the guises of the UN, but with strong western (read: French and American) backing needs to be given the mandate to disarm Gbangbo and his loyal militia, prepare war crimes trials against them in The Hague, and protect and implement the rule of the winner of this month's elections, Mr. Alassane Quattara.
An example needs to be made for both the recent past, and the near future; these acts of aggression towards human rights and democratic principals of freedom will not be tolerated in West Africa, or elsewhere. The jewel of West Africa can soon ride up and shine again. Once again, a stark reminder; how much easier it is to destroy than to build, in the most fragile of regions.

Izumi Shikibu

"Although the wind blows fiercely here,
the moonlight also shines
through the roof planks
of this ruined house."

"Watching the moon,
at dawn,
solitary,
midsky,
i knew myself completely,
no part left out."

A Master's Words on the Nature of Mind.

“These trains of thoughts and states of mind are constantly changing, like the shapes of clouds in the wind, but we attach great importance to them. An old man watching children at play knows very well that their games are of little consequence. He feels neither elated nor upset at what happens in their game, while the children take it all very seriously. We are just exactly them.”

“Maintain a state of simplicity. If you encounter happiness, success, prosperity, or other favorable conditions, consider them as dreams or illusions, and do not get attached to them. If you are stricken by illness, calamity, deprivation, or other physical or mental trials, do not let yourself get discouraged, but rekindle your compassion and generate the wish that through your suffering all beings' sufferings may be exhausted. Whatever circumstances arise, do not plunge into either elation or misery, but stay free and comfortable, in unshakable serenity.”

“However deluded your thoughts may be, they are but products of your own intellect.

If you set your thoughts free, where nothing arises, remains, or ends,

they will vanish into emptiness.”

Dilgo Khyentse Rimpoche

Everest Journal. Thame

Thame Village, December 1st.

A flock of white birds, sun catching their feathers and lighting them on fire, against the dark granite spires and pale cloudless sky, streaking past my view.
The old stone walls, ancient corrals, allow only abstract shapes of light to pass with the sounds of the flowing stream hidden from view.
Life comes quickly and brilliantly, complete silence framed by rocks, earth, sky;
the laughter of a band of brightly colored school children running down a mountain trail from an unknown village above, countless stories, dreams, sorrows, happiness, reflected in the crystal air;
a flutter of worn prayer flags in the bitter wind;
the sun warms my face as I sit, admiring the simple, beautiful, rugged perseverance of this high land.
It is now December; another fascinating month has passed all too quickly; all is fleeting.




"To become one with whatever one does is a true realization of The Way."
-Peter Mattheisson

Everest Journal Outtakes

Khumjung, Nepal. Thanksgiving Day.

The dirty Tibetan trader, sack filled with market wares slung over his shoulder,
red braid weaved into beautiful long black hair, makes his way up the ancient
stone pathway. Both his origin and his destination are unknown to me as i stand in
the frigid early morning air, observing the high peaks surrounding this narrow valley
illuminated in the low morning sun. The brilliant whites of the towering snowfields;
the jagged, angular manifestations of this earth's crust, thrusting to the heavens, surround
my simple presence.
Last evening, watching the same sun make its way into the high horizons, it was flaming oranges that rang the day into night.
The Tibetan smiles a wide, white smile; and i return my own, no words, he is gone.

basho

Days and months are the travelers of eternity.
So are the years that pass by.
I myself have been tempted for a long time by the cloud moving wind-
filled with a strong desire to wander...I walked through mists and clouds,
breathing the thin air of high altitudes and stepping on slippery ice snow,
till at last through a gateway of clouds,
as it seemed,
to the very paths of the sun and the moon,
I reached the summit, completely out of breath and nearly frozen to death.
Presently the sun went down and the moon rose glistening in the sky.
-Basho, The Narrow Road to the Deep North