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."