Urban Dralas

For my 3rd entry of the day I wanted to get into Drala. I googled it to see what’s available on the topic, because at the moment I don’t have my copy of Shambhala: Sacred Path of the Warrior handy, nor my notes from the training weekends available. The first entry that came up was an essay on Drala by the Western Mountain Project so I read a little more than half of that and then went out for lunch. Once out in the world the Drala games began very much of their own accord. I took a twenty minute walk spanning the space most NYers cover in about six minutes.

The sights abounded and to be honest I don’t recall experiencing too many smells, which here in NY can be a good thing. What I did experience most clearly was the sights and the sounds, and also how it felt inside me. In many cases it is the sounds that drew my eyes into the next experience.

A woman yelling into her cellphone, “I did not say that,” over and over. Then moving into, “If you want to put words in my mouth…”

There were plenty of traffic cops of the meter maid (pardon the sexist term), out on the prowl looking for tickets to give. One guy who had just parked and obviously in good spirits said he was going to play the badge number of the traffic cop.

She said, “It never comes out.”

I saw a $70 ticket taped up against a wall for a rogue sign observed chained up against a scaffolding for a massage/foot rub joint. A man popped his head out of the liquor store with his bright red, zigzag patterned button-up shirt to check out a passing lady.

Of course above all of this is sky. Today the clouds are nice and billowy, like marshmallows streaking slowly across a blue canvas. The city is alive to be sure. Is this the witnessing of drala? I think so. The world is so alive, everywhere. Another thing that came to mind is how much space there really is all around even in the hub-bub of this frenetic city. One area blocked off from parking littered across a couple of hundred feet made a wonderful pocket to walk along in the bustle. I couldn’t help but notice nobody else chose to use this wonderful gift of urban spaciousness. I guess they aren’t that interested in space. Which in a flash I realize is not so true because in the urban plazas people sit and enjoy their space. Maybe then it is the authoritative invitation to space that gets people to stop and be.

Let’s keep in mind many of the people taking a break in the urban plazas don’t seem to be fully engaged in their space as they chatter endlessly, fixate on cellphones, and chomp on morsels of food hurriedly.

Taking it slow did give me moment to say hello to a pleasant cop who had witnessed the screaming cellphone lady with me.

Now as I settle back into the indoor experience I reflect on the richness of what I experienced. In Shambhala we are taught not to take back our experiences like little trinkets bought at the store but to let them go. It is in that spirit I allow this piece to settle itself, and let go of it into the web universe like so many fragments of reality drifting away into the ether.