The red dog stops the evening rush

Dear Friends -

I wrote an entirely different blog then the one you’re invited to read. After attaching all the pictures and reading it four times, I pushed Publish Post. It disappeared. I smiled and decided to write what I probably should have said in the first place.

My life is changing . . . I can almost track the quantum leaps, yet I only hint at the profundity, since change is a personal benchmark inconsistent with explanation. Everything has lead me to this moment in Chiang Mai. I look around. All the familiar surroundings I unconsciously clung to are gone. All the friends and family I may have taken for granted, or simply trusted to be there, are gone, or at least very far away. It’s all new . . . everything is new . . . but in my case . . . hauntingly familiar.

I’m drawn to the monasteries. I don’t feel moved to sit in one and meditate. It seems as if I had done that for a thousand lifetimes, and have graduated. I watch the monks--some with cell phones and Nikon cameras. It doesn’t look as if they pay for what they want. JB and I joked about finding some orange robes to wear so we could get things for free. I few days later I walked to this monastery. Lying there on the ground was an orange robe. There was nobody around. It was as though the master was saying, “You want to be a monk, you want to do that some more . . . well here you go . . . here’s your orange robe . . . have at it.” No, that’s not what I want. I’m not here to do that this lifetime. I’m a man without a country, without a dogma (my religion is Zen), without a home, experiencing life maybe only . . . maybe only to share a few stories.

My novel (my big story to share) is also changing. There was a time, in September, when I thought it was ready to publish. It didn’t quite disappear when I pushed Publish, but I laugh at my impatience and arrogance - then. I am newly inspired - now. Red Asian dogs and orange monks will do that to me.

I have decided to make Jimmy, the detective in Shambala, a Zen master - an Aikido sensei and a haiku poet. This is fun. In order for Jimmy to be an accomplished haiku artist, I must be that myself. So to begin my practice I will start with the dog. This dog roams around in front of my hotel. He hangs in the street and even walks across the busy road to do his thing on the grass by the moat. It’s like he owns the place--no concerns or fear. His eyes are the same color as his fur and he’s about one, or maybe ten, foot tall.

Pausing to scratch, the red dog, stops the evening rush.

My new apartment overlooks the city of Chiang Mai. Outside my window we see one of the ancient gates. The moat on the left continues all around the inner city. In the picture are two red buses. Wave them down and they will take you anywhere around or inside the old city for 20 baht - around sixty five cents. I should have rented a scooter by now, but my funky bike is great exercise. Last night I rode home in the dark. I jetted through traffic with no lights on my bike--crazy in any US city--but here people have a different awareness. Movements are subtle and almost clairvoyant. I know they see me, as I see them. And it all flows in some sort of chaotic perfection. I feel extremely safe here.

I’m grateful. Sincerely grateful. My studio apartment is large, modern and comfortable. I have a view of the city. With my lifestyle I can’t imagine spending more than $1000 a month for rent, all meals out, two massages a week and whatever else I can imagine having. Lunch today at the Vegetarian Society costs sixty cents. I rent my bike for fifty cents a day from a one tooth guy who commands his cycle world with ease and grace.

In Chiang Mai I’m also allowing in advanced lessons in patience, humility and honor. I have no where to go at any particular time - I can walk or bike for miles down busy streets or quiet lanes called soi’s. Thailand is a land of humble people, and when you walk into most places or leave they will put their hands together as in prayer and bow to you.

With that I will end this blog. I put my hands together and bow to you. I bow to the divine being you truly are--the oneness of who we are . . . the sweet juicy heart of the artichoke we all are, once we remove the bitter leaves.

Bitter leaves, a juicy heart. One become the other.

My love as always,

David Dakan Allison

Below is my new apartment - I'm above the Kumon sign - The mountain view is outside my west window