There was a pretty ferocious storm a couple days ago in Hong Kong that damaged some of the infrastructure up on Mount Davis. The internet was down due to a lightning strike and water went off for a while. That's fine, yesterday I went to down to HK Island and worked from Pacific Coffee. I had to hurry to grab the shuttle down the mountain and didn't get my morning walk/run in, so I went around 11PM when I came back until I found a well lit place to jog back and forth on the mountain, and I came back at midnight.
I'm sweaty, exhausted, and I think - oh, I hope the water's back on... I should've checked...
I went to the shower, turned the nob, and... the water started. Good.
But no hot water for some reason. And it was quite cold.
At first I flinch and tense up a little bit as I step into the water, and then I think - why should I flinch? Mind over matter. This will be cold,. and I'll enjoy it anyways.
So I wet my hair from the cold water, methodically, smoothly, not rushing or hurrying or shying from the coldness.
I shampoo my hair, and wash it out, I step into the cold water and wash myself, and all of sudden it's almost enjoyable. It's still cold, but just - accepting that I'd be cold, it ceased to be bad. I showered off, and when I stepped out I'd never felt so strong and alive. I felt like one of those German barbarians that always gave the Romans so much trouble. The air felt pleasant as I stepped from the cold water, and I admired the view from the second floor of the building before getting dressed and doing some good work.
Yeah, it reminds me of the week I spent at Sziget Festival http://www.hungarotickets.com/sziget/en/home . It's on a small island in the middle of the Danubio River, Budapest. We were there with other 400.000 people. No hot water. After the first days, I got used to the cold. And walking around the island all the day, sleeping on the soil, having cold shower, I felt, by the end, stronger.
We have more resources than we think, that's why we survived after all.
Reminds me of the winter when I had no hot water. I couldn't be bothered to call a technician to fix it, so instead I showered in cold water. What gave me the inspiration was watching the video for "Singing in the Rain". I figured that showering in cold water is no worse than walking in the rain for a few minutes.
After trying it, I can say that it's no worse than stepping into a cold swimming pool. After a few seconds you become desensitized to the cold and the water feels fine.
Life is funny.
About 36 hours ago, I wrote "Steel on the Inside, Silk on the Outside."
I think most guys are afraid to do this – to wear light colors, to go to a spa, to being silly and lighthearted, these traditionally feminine things. I think most guys go out of their way to appear tough, rugged, macho. And you know why? I think it’s because most of ‘em are soft on the inside, scared, powerless, aimless.
My philosophy is be as strong as steel on the inside, and light and gentle like silk on the outside.
It all started with a knock at the door. It was a late Christmas Eve, and it took some time for my father to separate himself long enough to answer the door and turn on the light. I followed him through the crowd of people I didn't know, friends of my father. My dad opened the door, the cold air stinging my face from my position next to my father's leg. There in the doorway was a very tall, pale creature. Its long, spindly limbs were settled close to its frame, its knees tucked against its chin as it attempted to fit within the short expanses of the porch.
“It's cold...Can I come in?”
Its face betrayed nothing of the motives behind its presence, save a warm smile settled low below a pair of bloodshot eyes. Its hair was drawn back and greasy, its form seeming to be lost between distinctions, rendering it without a sense of gender. The only clothes it wore was a single white nightie, its bare feet ending in purpled flesh surrounding blue toenails that sunk and trembled in the snow.
I looked back at the den, where all the stockings were hung. My mothers was still in the in the box. Dad said it wouldn't be going up this year...Meanwhile, the song “Santa Claus is Coming Town” began to play, the other members of my family yet to be aware of that horror that crouched at our front door.
“You better not pout, you better not cry, you better no shout I'm telling you why...”