Sitting this morning before leaving, I got a taste of clinging, deep down, in the midst of just breath. I don't do well with separations, and this time is no exception. Leaving behind loved ones, and the sweetness of home, is creating some friction. In the Buddha's footsteps, I just sat and observed what it felt like to hang on, to what cannot be had. There was love, tainted with sadness, and fear of loss also. Further along, was boredom, and resistance to staying with the unpleasantness. In the Buddha's footsteps, I knew better than to quit, and continued to sit, breath by breath.
PS - Not sure how much I will be able to write while on the pilgrimage . . .