Friday, February 24, 2012

The Floating Markets of Inle Lake

Floating through Inle Lake in the highlands of central Burma, we come upon a traditional floating market.
I know... I'm the kind of man that has nothing...I live out of a bag, wrap my worn out travel book with a rubber band to keep the pages of scribbled notes from floating away in the wind...
But there is something about these lost destinations that ground me. Walking among people that do not see me, that are busy living their lives, that care nothing if I come or go.
It's a kind of zen. Possessing nothing but eyes. Carrying nothing but heart wrapped in strings. Feeling the strength of your legs as you trek up a muddy bank to sit beside a hollowed out stump in the sunshine and feel the wind on the back of your neck.
Nobody tells you these things growing up. They say work. They say make. They say do. But this is our real life, here... standing on the outside watching others.
I keep moving, floating to the next place. There's no reason to stop for long. If I tarry, might I become one of them?

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