ADDICTED TO SAMSARA
Leave it to the Welsh to have a word for it. Hiraeth: (n.) a homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost places of your past.
In the sunset of dissolution, Kundera wrote, everything is illuminated by the aura of nostalgia, even the guillotine.
It’s Thanksgiving week in the U.S., and many of us are homeward bound. We’re wrapping up work and boarding planes, trains, and borrowed cars–transmigrating worlds. Which is greater, Buddha asked, the tears you have shed while transmigrating and wandering this long, long time–crying and weeping from being joined with what is displeasing, being separated from what is pleasing–or the water of the four great oceans?
This is greater, Buddha answered, the tears you have shed while wandering on.
I’m still addicted to the wandering on, to samsara, to the world of fabrications. I stumbled upon this immaculate cashmere and wool coat in a Boise consignment store; when I saw it was lined in pale lavender silk with leather-cuffed arms long enough for Gumby, I had to have it.
I believe in warmth and style for the wayfaring–for the long commutes to the homes we cannot keep but are with us now.
fabulous photographer: Bethany Walter
Wool-cashmere blend coat with lavender silk lining: Liakes (Piece Unique consignment, Boise); jeans: Rich & Skinny (Fancy Pants, Boise); batik top: Anthropologie; Cece suede ballet flats: J. Crew; snakeskin belt: Bangkok vintage; jade earrings & jade ring: vintage
