whereof, thereof.

there are two mccabes vying for my attention. there is no order implied between them so i won’t say first and second, but one of them:

wants to remain here, waiting to see what india has in store for me, spending the money i saved on living expenses and depending on my mother’s credit card and my dubious ability to pay her back for my eventual return ticket, drawing in my sketchbook and drinking chai and meditating and helping ananda on the banana farm and taking painting classes and just basically extending my lifelong vacation for half a year half a world away.

the other, feels desperately that i should be back in new orleans, applying the lessons i’ve learned here to the life which led me to learn them, cleaning up my act and behaving responsibly towards sallie mae and entergy and flo alike, working a little, applying myself more strenuously to my artwork (especially the new idea of composing my pieces in photoshop first then drawing them out, a process that i think will result in some great improvements), taking the GRE, aiming at grad school for psychology, meditating, trying to figure out how to be vegetarian in louisiana, and just generally having a goddamn go at life.

writing it has decided it for me almost — the idea of staying here feels like a wolf in the lamb of gods’ clothing. i don’t know how it works, but i meant it when i said the first week here changed my life. so many things which had been dim and unclear snapped into focus. and without the energy of this place, and knee-deep in new orleans’ festive quotidian, it will absolutely take a lot of energy for me to keep an even keel, to continue my meditation and my practice and to keep my mind from messing with my peace. but these are eventualities, and i need to face them, and in matters of the mind and heart avoidance never equals victory. besides which, i have never felt more prepared to tackle the challenges which caused me so many problems when i left; the simple fact of the matter is that one’s mind is one’s only enemy, the only obstacle standing between oneself and perfect acceptance of whatever happens to be happening, and love and silence are available in every corner of the room you’re in.

so. i am coming home on september 15th, making it an even month into my 27th year. the ticket is purchased, and i will arrive after noon on september the 16th, and i regret this decision and i do not regret anything, both at the same time. And also i respectfully acknowledge the possibility that the world has other plans for me and that i will lose the world in a cave and that i’ll never come back. but dammit, one has to have a working hypothesis to function.

with love and a dusty forhead, i remain:

(a) mccabe.