Friday, July 3, 2009

A Taoist Observation

The more I move around the world I find that time and space play tricks on our concepts of reality. In layman's terms, I can't believe that yesterday marked 2 months back in the States.

8 weeks ago my primary language was not English. I lived in a city of 8 million. I was a minority. Americans accounted for less than 5% of the people I interacted with on a regular basis. I now live and work on a 10,000 acre ranch outside of Missoula, Montana that's only accessible by several twists and turns down a 6 mile dirt road. Population: less than 100. All American. All English. In China I couldn't go more than 5 minutes without seeing another person, car, or bike. I see more deer, horses, and squirrels here than I do people. I've traded chopsticks and bowls of rice for forks and bowls of oatmeal. Circular tables for rectangular ones. Shared food in the center of the table for buffet style with individual plates. Squatters for seaters. Grey skies for blue. The only thing that is the same is that I can see mountains from my window and bike to water in under 30 minutes.

Am I the butterfly dreaming of Zhuangzi or Zhuangzi dreaming of the butterfly?

A friend that lived abroad in Spain for several years once told me that living overseas is like being pregnant. Everyone always raves about the glowing mom-to-be but neglects to share the details of bizarre cravings, swollen ankles, and watching one's body completely metamorphis into something she can't recognize as herself (or so I've heard). I guess the trick is to realize that a life based on outside reality is one destined for constant confusion and morning sickness.