's all in the afternoon I try to write something interesting, but I was wrong. E 'that are at work, my eyes burn because I spend too much time in front of this pc, I need a coffee but I do not want to complain.
I want to share something positive on this blog.
The book I'm reading, for example.
" Saltwater Buddha "
For this book, first of all, I must thank Giulia has advised me that because it was a sort of revelation. Do not tell me things that I did not know already, but it is a kind of spiritual impetus I needed.
It 's a book about meditation, Zen Buddhism and the surf.
The subtitle is "The search for a surfer find the Zen in the sea ", or something like that.
Yes, just the kind of speech freak (or freakkettone?) that would make him , Bodhi, the man who robbed banks in order to pass the time to seek the perfect wave in "Point Break .
The book is basically a series of anecdotes that tell the path that has made the 'author to ... I do not know. I do not know why I have not finished yet.
But, as he says, and how to say every damn freak traveler spiritually lost in meditation product of long periods away from known civilization, the important thing is the way, not the destination.
Ah, one of the damned hippies and so on. etc.. We also put myself. And we also put my personal story, because I remember the moment when I understood it.
I was on a bus, between Taupo and Wellington who started to climb the mountains, has exceeded, fell to the valley and while I looked away and began what I perceived as a desert.
was the bush.
Now, I'm not absolutely sure it was just the bush, they were low bushes in an arid expanse because New Zealand is not just dry, but that remains to me it was a desert.
And there began, as if for the first time, to beat my heart, that was what I wanted, the desert. In the hands, stomach, all I needed was dry ground and low bushes. He no longer so important to be direct to Wellington to visit the capital, then take a ferry, a bus, train and continue their journey. I was already where I wanted to be.
This has meant that I catapulted out of a speeding bus, I went, then, in Wellington. The point is that finally what mattered was the road, the thrill, the excitement of discovering something you do not expect, not knowing that after the mountains, after the fields, after the fences and all those sheep, the one who waits is a desert.
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