Yosemite tends to dwarf you. The granite walls, the giant Sequoia, and Sugar Pine trees. Big skies, filled with big weather and huge waterfalls. You feel a presence. Living beings, trees, bears, rushing rivers, so much bigger than a human.You enter a cathedral, that is not man made, and does not need you in any way. Your individual problems pale in comparison to the wonders that surround you. You are dwarfed, and it is humbling and healthy. This is why we need to protect Mother Nature. She is not wild, she is natural and beautiful, we are the wild and reckless ones who need to be tamed, not her.

We all have ambitions, but Bob Marley had the best, “Me only have one ambition, y’know. I only have one thing I really like to see happen. I like to see mankind live together – black, white, Chinese, everyone – that’s all.” I may never get to see mankind completely embrace each other, but the reality is, I could care less about my own personal success or good fortune, when compared to the gift of trying to open my eyes and give my heart to all. That is why I will keep hugging anyone that accepts it, and be kind to all, because love is the only thing you get to take with you from this journey to the next.

Go into the room. Get on the mat. Be still, be quiet. Don’t be a slave to your practice or your habits. Stumble, as you certainly will, regain your footing with grace and acceptance, be quiet. Listen to what whispers to you, be quiet. Only when you are silent often enough, long enough, will you receive the gifts you are so desperate for. Let each breath remove you from your ego. Let each breath take you away from your noise. Breath, be silent, be patient, and finally, be the one who fully knows what it is like to be you.

Today I spent an hour watching the local guys play cricket in a sandlot. It was pretty insane. I don’t know much about the game. The dirt lot had a few wild pigs and dogs roaming it, which simply added to the vast array of obstacles already in place. Add two trees, two cars, one motorcycle, a bike, a million potholes, a bit of barbed wire, and of course, a homeless guy and his campfire, and now you have an Indian sandlot field. In America, the kids could not navigate it mentally. The narrow dirt plot was walled in by two nice houses. The sandlot was not long enough to accommodate the game, so the outfield extended into a rather busy street. I stood in, what would be in baseball, left centerfield, watching. The game was not affected by the traffic, and the traffic was not affected by the game. This was magical and unreal. It seemed at times impossible, but I stood and watched, impossible, for an hour. Beyond the street lay another haphazard lot that became the deep outfield, or the place where the ball is fetched by the American guy, me. These guys payed zero attention to the fact that cars, motorcycles (no helmets mind you), bicycles, pedestrians, cows, pigs, and dogs strolled the street. They would, with complete abandonment, throw and hit at will. Ball overhead, under foot, into the side door of the parked cars, through trees, and campfire, whatever, the game was played with laughter and joy. I’m assuming it was not their parked cars, so why not have a laugh. Cars went by, got hit, never slowed down to comment or care. Motorcyclist ducked, but did not slow down. One tried to actually hit the ball. I ended up playing. I have no clue to the final score, but I managed to get invited back tomorrow.

Every single person has to die, sadly, not every person will chose to live. Breath in your life, for it will go, and you will possess none of what you thought was so important enough to put your life on hold.