That´s right: last weekend found me in the really rather enchanting city of Salamanca. I´d try to put the picture of what it looked like to me into words, but previous attempts to do just that in anticpiation of this blog post have failed. I won´try again, lest I reduce what it looked like to something icky, like the bottom of a pool in winter.
What sticks out in my mind the most is the first morning after I arrived, I was having breakfast with Matt in this stacked-stone cafe with mahogany wood trim, and enjoying how the place made me feel like I was ensconsed atop some snow-peaked mountain when I started talking about all the things that had happened since we last spoke. Half-an-hour later, I had talked so much for so long, so quickly, I felt really, actually dizzy. Thinking back on the trip, the fact that I had so much to say to someone spreads light across the whole memory.
On a different note, I´m including a Rumi poem that I´ve been reading everyday without the law of diminishing returns having taken effect. It´s good.
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"One went to the door of the Beloved and knocked.
A voice asked, 'Who is there?'He answered, 'It is I.'
The voice said, 'There is no room for Me and Thee.'
The door was shut.
After a year of solitude and deprivation he returned and knocked.
A voice from within asked, 'Who is there?'
The man said, 'It is Thee.
'The door was opened for him."
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I´m sorry that I haven´t gotten back to some people with my address, but I include it here:
Rahim Manji
13 Avda de la Paz Piso: 3A
Burgos, Spain 09006
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