Spirited Away

In the early morning, when the sky is still dark, sometimes, I'd make off to the old Chinese restaurant in town where mostly senior citizens gather, to have a bite of dim sum. Dim sum is fun when you have a group of boisterous friends to share that exquisite moment when each dig in eagerly his or her chopsticks to make a claim of that coveted delicacy. When friends are not around, alone and in a quiet moment, the experience would be entirely different. When the waiter or waitress come to serve , you'd throw a knowing glance at the little dishes and automatically, your hands go for the chopsticks. You lift the chopsticks, mindful of their lightness and marvel at the sudden subtle change; the new heaviness they exude when they drop their weights, twisting and turning into a mysterious realm where there is softness, hardness; all disguised  as one. Then, when you push the dim sum into your mouth, you feel its juiciness, and amidst the coldness of the hard chopsticks, its warmth so intense initially, start to diffuse and spread, sending the tongue, the body tingling and at the crucial moment when you've thought that that's the ultimate bliss, the waiter came with yet another dumpling which you have ordered earlier and have forgotten; and you start to question the meaning of life when pleasantness, all so pleasant, is so fleeting. I heard the best time to meditate is in the early morning when the sun has yet to rise. At such time, when there is quietness and peace, sometimes one doesn't have to sit crosslegged and close the eyes to get spirited away.


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