As
I prepare to migrate south for the winter, I am filled with, well,
mostly melacholia and yearning, because I love New York, and I hate to
leave it. But I just don't do well in the cold, or the darkness; thus,
as soon as the clocks change, I bolt. So I have to leave what I love in
order to preserve my sanity, that I might continue to be able to love. I
wish there were another way, but maybe this is The Way.
This
morning, I opened my little pocket booklet “The 37 Practices of the
Bodhisattva” at random and read this: "Abandon your homeland. That is
the way of the Bodhisattva."
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