DECEMBER 31, 2008
I had a dream last night about Maxine Hong Kingston. She was telling me to trust the way. The way is drawn. The way is safe. Trust the Buddha within. I had to walk the last final stretch. In the air across a thick tree branch draped with silk, I was struggling, frustrated. The silk wouldn't stay secure and I kept sliding. I was scared, too. She kept telling me to try. That it could be my time if I tried. But I couldn't do it and this wave of guilt and disappointment washed over me. I found myself walking through the garden weeping, waiting for the others to go; waiting for her advice and her guidance.
Sarah keeps making these lists of things she or people here want. This is about the fifth or so list. This one includes things like vanilla, maple syrup, raisins, guava jam, chunky peanut butter. Things that we had and were meant to ration. Things that people practically devoured as soon as they were opened. Four weeks worth of goods. We've already ran out of oatmeal, rice, cereal and asked for more. I think that it is utterly ridiculous, these lists. We live in a camp... you know, the wilderness? We're supposed to be learning to do without; supposed to be living simply. It really ticks me off how needy people can be.
This place is bad for my OCD. There are so many numbers that we must remember--measurements, codes, counts, etc. I find myself repeating these things long after they are necessary. And sometimes I easily forget the numbers as I do remember.