37. Trying to Learn Something New at Twenty-Three

In Auckland, I learned what color the yolk of an egg is meant to be

And in the Longwood Forest, I learned how to listen

And heard a voice I’ll never not know

Just after Arrowtown, I learned how to sleep

In the surface of Lake Wānaka, I saw myself for the first time

And just before Highland Creek Hut, I learned how to take a lunch break

In Tekapo, I learned how to read

On the Caples River, I learned how to run

I learned how to breathe with the Bay of Plenty

And on Oneroa beach, I learned how to get caught in the rain

In Fjiordland I learned the Sound of quiet

The Ahuriri River taught me that sometimes, you just make the decision, one without moral value;

where right and wrong have no place,

that is where Goodness prevails

On this walk of mine

I learned to drink water and eat chocolate

I learned how to swim in cold lakes and wash up in rushing rivers

I learned how to speak

I learned how to pay attention

How to fall and laugh and then stand up

And I learned how to forget

And how to remember to forget

I learned how to do impossible things

And I contracted a toe fungus in my soaking wet trail-runners

(No one but me is shocked)

And I forgot how to sleep and also how to exfoliate

And I can’t shake this coffee addiction

And I would not trade any bit of it.

Not for the world.

The whole thing is mine —

All my steps inseparable from my Self

xx

Leave a comment