Requests!

I want addresses. I was talking to someone about stationary the other week and I realized that, for all of the stationary I own, I don't write very many letters anymore. So I would like your address. You can put it as a comment, or email me. Seriously. I will write you, I promise. I'm buying stamps tomorrow. It's time I committed to something. Might as well start small, right?

Also, I would really love some book recommendations. Fiction and Non, wacky and thoughtful, intellectual and shallow. I want to read a lot this summer, too. FOR FUN. Gosh, I can't wait.

Lastly, if I haven't told you something that I enjoy about you lately, tell me. I really should be more open with the people that I care for, even if it's about nothing more than why I care for them. And if you're reading this, I cared about you enough to give you my blog. So that's pretty special, making you pretty special.


Damn, I'm in way too good a mood. (That was a lot of "oo" in the previous sentence...weird.)

A Lesson From Smitu

So I didn't have time to write last night. I was phoning it up, and then my body was so tired from the beach that I just went to sleep. Now that everything's over, I'm not really sure to do with my time, but spending it in front of the computer doesn't really seem like fun at the moment. So I'm going to take my journal outside instead, along with the Tao of Pooh (I started reading it again yesterday at the beach), and my graduation dress. So I can write, read, or sew in a zipper. Seems like a good day to spend in the grass.

Anyway, I wanted to write down something I wrote for my IHP professor, Smitu Kothari. He passed away kind of suddenly over my spring break this year, and at the beginning of the month we had a little celebration of life in Boston while they had one in Delhi. Anyway, it was a great ceremony, and full of stories about him and how funny he was. It's interesting to me the impact that someone can have on your life, just by knowing them for a short while. Once you got to know Smitu... well, he was inspiring. It was one of those moments when he died where it seemed like the world should just stop moving and take notice.

So we had a prayer flag, and a chance to write a memory, or a message. I wrote mine, but as we all know I like to keep my feelings to myself. So I didn't put it on the prayer flag...but I'll write it here instead. It was in India when I realized that there are many places in a social movement, and many ways to make change... there's this whole metaphor with a candle... if you're interested, I'll explain later. But anyway... this is for Smitu, and a big thanks for his part in my life.

a lesson from Smitu:

it's not what you do with
your life
it's what you do in it.
it is not the outcome
but the actions (
the pure act of living
is a movement
of justice
of peace
of love.)

--jrh