The Astrology of Numbers: 02.01.2010
02.01.2010
The Astrology of
Numbers
The Astrology of
Numbers
Numbers are auspicious. This date in
particular seemed especially magnetic to me; and so, I placed an intention to
send a letter out on that day. It was February 1st, 2010… a cusp of multiple geometrical
synergy... I was sure of it. A full moon was blazing and just look at the way
the numbers resonate and integrate... 02.01.2010... surely something magical
was bound to happen?
I never succeeded. Instead, exactly 11
days later, I am finally getting this letter to you. Regardless, it is another
auspicious day...
particular seemed especially magnetic to me; and so, I placed an intention to
send a letter out on that day. It was February 1st, 2010… a cusp of multiple geometrical
synergy... I was sure of it. A full moon was blazing and just look at the way
the numbers resonate and integrate... 02.01.2010... surely something magical
was bound to happen?
I never succeeded. Instead, exactly 11
days later, I am finally getting this letter to you. Regardless, it is another
auspicious day...
02.12.2010
...Just look at how
the numbers integrate...
the numbers integrate...
Traveling now into the second month of the
new decade... I've learned that
falling down is actually harder sometimes than getting back up.
This after months of Wu Shu (Kung Fu
training and study) in a foreign land... with an uncomfortable diet for myself
and an uncharacteristically
odd bone-chill that I am
only now beginning to connect the astrology with. More to come on that in a moment.
Back in December I traveled from the U.S.
to China; to glimpse what calligraphy this mysterious, internet deprived country
had written upon its ancient walls. At the present moment I write from India
where I arrived a little over a week ago. The countries are separated by the
Himalayan mountain range, the largest in the world... it was a clear shot I had
to take.
More people
are taking photographs today than ever. Across the planet, it seems that every
other person is equipped with both camera and phone. Recording each passing
moment has become a ritual... as
if we are attempting to prevent our memories from losing track of themselves.
In my quest for a new perspective, I
flirted with an astrology shimmering in a deep reservoir of mind and body... a
region where for 2 months I have been free of both cell phone and most trivial
cares in the world.
In China, I purposely rode without
communication through the most muddy-holed dirt paths I could find. The way to
the monastery was indecipherable from the map. On many occasions, I just had to
trust my instinct regarding what direction I came in order to get back.
I found myself in farming
village after farming village where time was still yet to touch
clocks. As if moving outside of
development, the locals were tilling their fields with water buffalo
pulled-carts.
I've taken a few photos but not nearly as
many as I normally do when I travel alone like this.
to China; to glimpse what calligraphy this mysterious, internet deprived country
had written upon its ancient walls. At the present moment I write from India
where I arrived a little over a week ago. The countries are separated by the
Himalayan mountain range, the largest in the world... it was a clear shot I had
to take.
More people
are taking photographs today than ever. Across the planet, it seems that every
other person is equipped with both camera and phone. Recording each passing
moment has become a ritual... as
if we are attempting to prevent our memories from losing track of themselves.
In my quest for a new perspective, I
flirted with an astrology shimmering in a deep reservoir of mind and body... a
region where for 2 months I have been free of both cell phone and most trivial
cares in the world.
In China, I purposely rode without
communication through the most muddy-holed dirt paths I could find. The way to
the monastery was indecipherable from the map. On many occasions, I just had to
trust my instinct regarding what direction I came in order to get back.
I found myself in farming
village after farming village where time was still yet to touch
clocks. As if moving outside of
development, the locals were tilling their fields with water buffalo
pulled-carts.
I've taken a few photos but not nearly as
many as I normally do when I travel alone like this.
HawaH Studying Calligraphy with
a Shaolin Monk in China
I'd rather take you with me from
mountain-top to sandy-beach... in a cascade of words. A landscape of images
that a photographic lens cannot capture. I rested along border-less roads
nestled between isolated villages. At one point I reached out and picked wild
mandarin oranges from six-foot high green-squinting trees. In that instant
feeling incredibly stupid to have never connected why they are called "Mandarin"
oranges before... it was a lesson that required me to travel into the far reaches of China to discover.
mountain-top to sandy-beach... in a cascade of words. A landscape of images
that a photographic lens cannot capture. I rested along border-less roads
nestled between isolated villages. At one point I reached out and picked wild
mandarin oranges from six-foot high green-squinting trees. In that instant
feeling incredibly stupid to have never connected why they are called "Mandarin"
oranges before... it was a lesson that required me to travel into the far reaches of China to discover.
I don't speak the language but I can still
communicate with the people. I can motion with my hands and point to a map. I
can use my fingers to count out the price of a meal.
I've noticed that
communication does not need us to share a similar language. Communication needs us to be authentic in
what we're trying to communicate.
Sure, there are a couple people here in
China who you can find that speak English, but the few nestled within the
billion are not always easy to find. It saddened me that for those who attend
English classes one of the first things that happens is they are given a new
name... an "English" name... so you have Liu Qing Shan becoming "Sam" or Nam
Yamoswho taking the name of "Grace." Part of me wishes they would just keep
their original names. Are foreigners really that lazy that we can't learn how
to pronounce them?
communication does not need us to share a similar language. Communication needs us to be authentic in
what we're trying to communicate.
Sure, there are a couple people here in
China who you can find that speak English, but the few nestled within the
billion are not always easy to find. It saddened me that for those who attend
English classes one of the first things that happens is they are given a new
name... an "English" name... so you have Liu Qing Shan becoming "Sam" or Nam
Yamoswho taking the name of "Grace." Part of me wishes they would just keep
their original names. Are foreigners really that lazy that we can't learn how
to pronounce them?
In an effort to
escape, I climb into more hill sides and rock faces. I stare upon writing
carved into stone. It was probably done by hand. These tombstones must be over
800 years old, I think to myself. And my body, from the inside is still feeling
so cold. What is going on?
escape, I climb into more hill sides and rock faces. I stare upon writing
carved into stone. It was probably done by hand. These tombstones must be over
800 years old, I think to myself. And my body, from the inside is still feeling
so cold. What is going on?
Many of these rivers run
polluted. Weighing heavy under the iron grip of factory productions which have
unusable by-products that are carelessly discarded. And as the night was
descending I rode back into town. Just in time to not get caught on the
streets, where my small head lamp may have been inadequate.
I drape myself in as many
blankets as I can find. The cold of these altitudes and regions has penetrated
deep into my cellular structure. Even when I am in the sun and in seventy
degree Fahrenheit weather, I'm still feeling cold. What is going on? I can't
seem to shake it.
I now ponder a
connection that may seem far fetched... but is possible only now because I have
access to some news on the internet... is it possible that the internal chronic
cold I was experiencing for almost 5 weeks was connected to this unfortunate
world event?
connection that may seem far fetched... but is possible only now because I have
access to some news on the internet... is it possible that the internal chronic
cold I was experiencing for almost 5 weeks was connected to this unfortunate
world event?
Something more to
ponder... we are all connected, and an earthquake in Haiti and the severe pain
of hundreds of thousands of people could be a direct cause for a depression that
seems to have no root cause... in other words, it may be more than, "it's just
that time of the year again." And the best way to remove yourself from
the hopelessness is to immediately start doing something to help.
Perhaps by recognizing our
interconnectedness we will be
able to transcend the limitations of our egos and self-serving instincts. And
maybe, if we could remember this lesson we would never worry about taking
another photograph again; or, missing any one of the auspicious numerical
anniversaries that is taking place every second?
ponder... we are all connected, and an earthquake in Haiti and the severe pain
of hundreds of thousands of people could be a direct cause for a depression that
seems to have no root cause... in other words, it may be more than, "it's just
that time of the year again." And the best way to remove yourself from
the hopelessness is to immediately start doing something to help.
Perhaps by recognizing our
interconnectedness we will be
able to transcend the limitations of our egos and self-serving instincts. And
maybe, if we could remember this lesson we would never worry about taking
another photograph again; or, missing any one of the auspicious numerical
anniversaries that is taking place every second?
