As the mighty mountains grew darker

Tonight, as the mighty mountains grew darker, the sky was ablaze—the last rays of sunlight lingered even when the mountains turned pitch black. The dogs and I were late heading out, I having spent the afternoon unpacking boxes of books—like seeing my life flash before my eyes. Books on every subject under the sun . . . fifty years’ worth of books on animal rights, on men and relationships  (most bought when recovering from a broken heart, like Gods in Everyman by Jean Shinoda Bolen), dozens more on the dire state of the world (First Kill Your Family on the child soldiers of Uganda), and all the endless books by every guru that walked the face of the Earth these past fifty years, from Da Free John to J. Krishnamurti to Byron Katie . . . And of course all the yoga books, half by people long gone . . . Books by all my Ojai author friends, going way back to Beatrice Wood . . . Plus piles of books on living lightly on the Earth (Asphalt Nation, The Last Hours of Ancient Sunlight, Green Yoga) and all the great memoirs like My Life So Far and My Life in Orange that helped me during the hard times . . . plus all the books read for sheer pleasure and unbelievable escapes . . .

As I head home and watch the landscape grow darker, carrying Chico, Honey leading the way, I think about letting all my books go, letting all my unessential material possessions go, letting go of everything I identify with, as part of the great cosmic experiment of living on the Earth plane. This I will do before I die—but I’m not there yet!

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3 Responses to “As the mighty mountains grew darker”

  1. tomericks0n Says:

    Suza, PLEASE don’t “let the books go!” I want to read them first!

    Like

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