Somehow I fell asleep again, and again experienced rich dreams. The sub-titles are gone though. My sense now is that Asia is such a rich world and such a mixed one that it is taking me time to process it. One walks along the streets moving from the latest fashions to little stores selling fresh herbs that look as old as time. One sees people of all ages, mainly women, burning incense and waving joss sticks in Buddhist temples and there are the Christian churches, too, though they are more silent and sedate. One is assaulted with images, cultures, history.
All feels calm here, with sounds of birds and breeze, and a very simple history and passage of time. In the museums, we saw the history of East and West. What I already knew entered differently as I enjoyed the dioramas and art. I remember now how much I enjoyed making tiny dioramas for school. These were life-size. One had running water, and reminded me of the third Pirates of the Caribbean, which I believe may have begun in Macau. And here I could have watched it on the plane to find out.
The museums allowed me to more fully feel what it would have been like to travel from West to East, and, for some, to travel back again. It made a different kind of sense to me, and what I was reading, the books of the East I chose to read, re-inforced a world of dreams and mixed worlds. Religion enters differently there, with many different feet.
I am now wide-awake, so will get a few things done, and hope that tomorrow brings me back a little more. This doesn't feel like jet-lag as much as integration. When I arrived there, I felt I needed my soul to catch up. Now, I feel it is here, but so multi-colored, and varied, so painted on various ribbons of silk, that I need to place it here, find a new way to hang the brocade of time.
I had hoped to find a little Buddha, but all the shopping was overwhelming to me. I was unable to buy anything. All felt so rich, and I, so full.
I image my temple here and see what now is mine to build. I just woke from a dream that someone gave me a teen-aged son, so without a Jungian to help me analyze that, I will interpret it to mean there is more of my adolescent male to present and open. Would I, if I had lived in those days of exploration, chosen to take to the sea in a ship?
I see the clothes now, as seen in the museum. What is it to wear such rich clothes? Do they enhance, or hide?
Now, so many people wear jeans no matter what the heat, jeans, tightly fitting. Is it practical or a lack of imagination? Does it make us one, equal? I have no answers to any of it, and I don't believe there are any, and it is fun to gather the images and sort them like cards. So many images and people, and so much of it young, very young. I am an elder, there, and here.
May you be sleeping gently and opening dreams with the light fragrance of tea brewed in a hand-made pot of special clay and shape.