morning after those festivities to faraway burma myanmar which would lead to much writing about unsung su chi. they would take me to thailand for a lovely trip up the river where i could wave happily at the people who smiled back when smiled upon. they would take me to gaza, guests and much writing about the palestine israel impasse. to the west bank, to india to all kinds of amazing places like for instance petra in jordan. who knew? i would find myself raising a nation of chickens in between travels and visits to holy people in oakland would take her and -- my cushion the fountain because of my attention to some of the deep suffering in the world sometimes seemed far away. i felt torn. a condition i did not like and i did not recommend. and then in a dream that came to me, there was a long asphalt highway like the one that passed by my grandparents place when i lived with them as an eight and 9-year-old. my grandfather and i would sit on the porch in the still of georgia heat and count the cars as they quizzed by. he would choose red cars, i would choose blue or black. it was a sitting on c