Zen and the Art of Kicking Butts

So it's day nine and cigs are still losing but no way do I feel like I've won this war. I'm still adjusting to the change in routine and I find don't leave the computer when I don't have the activity to justify it.

I didn't go out again this morning, but this afternoon I thought I should get some air and take my 4:20 break anyway. I told Karen, "I'm going out and just wait for something to happen." It so often does.

I didn't know quite what to do with myself without the excuse of smoking, but it wasn't too cold yet so I strolled down the sidewalk and all of sudden, across the street, there was a commotion.

Today as it turns out, is the anniversary of Tibetan National Uprising Day and the local Tibetans were having a traditional march. It was a beautiful procession. A young boy of perhaps 9 years old, was leading before the two silent monks and he shouted slogans in the mother tongue. The teenagers trailing behind shouted in English - Free Tibet - and the rest, mostly all carried signs, many about UN involvement.

I was thrilled when they crossed over and headed back my way and I waited for them to pass by. The Valley has become a small refuge for Tibetans and the march numbered close to 30. For reasons unexplained, I knew a lot of them including one of my favorite activists, Phyllis Rodan (I think the only Caucasian) who rolled by on her wheelchair. I made eye contact with almost everyone and Tashi gave me the Dalai Lama's statement for the occasion.

I couldn't find a link online to it, but it speaks of reverence for the bravery of the living and the dead who dare to fight for freedom and in honor of the occasion, last word goes to His Holiness.

I always have the feeling that I'm just another human being.

Tashi Deleh. Free Tibet.