writing is alchemy

what dares to be revealed in the darkest recesses
and crevices

I sit crouched over the keyboard unable to move
until inspiration insists i must
manifesting the dimension of thought into the dimension of Matter
the creation of words from ether, an incredible power
so immense it is to bring forth the mind and spirit into form

what spells do we weave so carelessly?


thoughts are the pioneer manifesters of creation, even the quiet ones we
try to deny because they do not fit in with
how we wish to be perceived
though try to hide your secret thoughts from the Observor, I dare you!
a comedic play

thoughts have roots, sometimes they are tangled around the heart and the
space between the eyes
the stomach, the jawline
those are the ones that
accompany you in the middle of the night
and need the most tending, the most compassion

as a creator of thought into matter
my work is in listening deeply, intimately, bravely to those thoughts
i hide away from
that i resist
the thoughts that would bury me in shame
if you were to know them
not attaching or projecting on them but tending to them
like i would a baby
tracing their roots back to the
lies of the mind to the
truths of the heart
witnessing them with curious love, anyways

it is my only work these days
to sit in non-doing
until inspiration insists i do
~~ tracing thoughts, clarifying creation lalala

salvation starts within


while the world is on fire
and the waters are being poisoned,
word of both being spread all over the globe
like butter on a warm piece of toast,
it’s super interesting how our mundane lives still have to go on
business as usual
whether it’s cooking up dinner, deciding what to wear
scrolling through memes
taking a walk in the forest and appreciating how the morning sun reflects
off the drops of dew precariously hanging off leaves turning colours

I mean, what else can one do?

aside from really appreciating and utilizing one’s position of being born into
comfort and privilege
for the highest good
and being fully present to all of life’s experiences
what to do?

many of our physical existences are removed from the
casualties and realities of famine, drought, raging storms
climate chaos
(for now)
though we can feel it in our heart of hearts, the damage being done
to the human hive on planet earth
to all of life

like bees and ants, flocks of birds and schools of fish
humans move and work as one unit
though there are quite a few rogues who don’t see it
don’t feel it
who overtime just don’t believe it anymore

so, what to do?

how we treat ourselves is reflected in what we consume
with our senses
what we eat, what we listen to, what we observe
our judgments and endless streams of thought
nothing without a ripple effect, somewhere

how we treat ourselves is how we treat mother Gaia
and all of Her creation
and so if humans were really
truly ready
for ascension, for ‘saving mother nature’
it would begin from the inside
of every awakening and growingly-aware human
(and if you’ve ever met a high vibrational being
you know how influential just one individual can be)

so I just want to remind anyone who is
feeling the overwhelming grief of living on this planet,
a member of a species that is disconnected from the creation of life itself,
that every thought, word, action, and deed that stems from within
your being
is imperatively critical for the healing of Earth and all her children

so you won’t singlehandedly stop the Amazon from
you could change the hearts and minds of
the very mundane people you meet
in your every day
business as usual
and THAT
THAT is how we as a human nation
shall someday know

strength is found in the vulnerable

a lot of old and buried wounds have been surfacing lately
triggers from the outside world reminding me that all of the experiences of my life are woven into the fabric of my being
my bones, my flesh, the sinew and muscle
the soft and gooey bits, the firm and unfaltering

I used to be really afraid of painful memories and the emotions that came with
and maybe now I’m just a little bit afraid
but mostly I see how every painful memory is stored somewhere in this
flesh and bone expression
and when it comes up into my mind, my awareness
and I feel that tightness in my chest, or the quivering of my lips,
leaky eyes
it is actually an opportunity to dig really, really deep
and face it
to not hold onto it or identify with it, but to surrender to that same pain that
I was not strong enough to endure
at the time of said making-of-the-memory

I see all of the traumatic events of my existence
unfolding in due time
always to be recognized, to be processed, to be let go of

too often those memories have surfaced and I have not been
strong enough to let them go
and so they stay buried
nestled in my smile, my eyes, my heart
the creases in my hands, the roundness of my hips
my browline

and they end up as all the bits I don’t like about myself

but emotions really are just energy in motion
and so the movement of my body
the poking and tapping and prodding
of all the bits of my physical expression
coaxes the body to release
and allow for all the bottled up feelings
to surface up to the mind
and when I can recognize that the memory is just that,
a memory
I can make the decision to be completely and totally
vulnerable to it
to let light be shed on the ugliest layers of my self
and release it
or I can decide to bury it deeper, for later
for when it inevitably resurfaces again

so if nothing else today,
I can be brave enough
to be vulnerable with my self
and with you
and recognize that life is filled with pain and suffering
but I don’t have to let that
take over the narration of my story

every moment is an opportunity
to get really, really real
and there is incredible freedom
in being totally, authentically
to your experience

it is a big and wide and courageous journey
to take!

life lives through us

lol, it’s amazing!
that one does not have to actively pursue life
Alex_Grey_Vision_Tree.jpgto strive, to strain, to muscle and bone
and force It to be this way or that

it’s really more of an
a surrendering entirely to the flow
simply allowing Life to be lived through the self

Life, a fully conscious and vast being that
resides in all of us!!

can you imagine if the stories that ride out the course
of our lives
did not fuse themselves in sinew and muscle
to become the parts of us that we hate
moved through
with an eloquence that really spoke
of the impermanence of all experience

not being attached to the this and that
the goodbyes and the hellos of old and new
simply, observing – witnessing – allowing

it’s easy to speak of it, to write about it! lol, this whole
surrendering to life to one’s life path
surrendering to the intrinsic knowing that
one cannot control it

it’s harder, sure
to trust that it’s all unfolding
entirely perfect
the traumatic, the ecstatic
all experiences
simply showing us, reminding us
of our only true
One Love, One Earth, One Family

like, just step out of the way of your own goddang limited perception of who ya think ye are! why the fuck not!

but hey — I’ll See You There, when we’re ready !!

lead from the heart


lead from the heart
and the rest will follow

sometimes fear gets lodged
in the space between the shoulder blades
and the shoulders round forward
to protect the sadness
in the heart

the vulnerability of
being alive

and over time

the head juts forward
the diaphragm restricts
the movement of breath
from reaching those spaces
in the body that
are confined in the threads
of being deeply
misunderstood so many times

and they become
an unfortunate identity of
who the mind thinks the
spirit is

the body,
a storybook of the journey
so far

the body, a manifestation

until the story is over, one is here
to discover what the body
is concealing under
all of the layers
that feel so confining

and each breath
every single one
is an opportunity to be brave

to direct the story

to loosen the threads of rigidity
to peel back
and discover what the heart can let go of

in times of remembrance,
to take a deep inhale into the belly
to place both hands on the chest and gently command
it to open
to expand the heart forward
peeling the shoulders back and down

to just fill up!
taking up so much space
so. much. space

deflating like a balloon on the exhale

maybe noticing
how the diaphragm expands
when the heart is leading

how much easier it is to breathe

and maybe sending each full breath
to the sadness, to the fear, to the pain
that confines the body

maybe those strands loosen
maybe some space is made
just maybe
one can feel what can be let go of

the heart
so soft, fluid, light
free and ever loving
cannot lead if
it is buried

and joy dwells in the space in-between

as soon as you know better

find your purpose
find yourself, on purpose
find yourself a porpoise
don’t delay!
click now and
find your life’s porpoise


phew, woke up again this morning
without a clear idea in my mind’s eye
as to why i ought to grace the cold, hardwood floor
with the bareness of my feet

i list off some of the things that i’ll play no particularly
influential role in today
~ overthrowing tyrannical and destructive government bodies
~ saving the human family from itself by irradicating division; fear and hate mongering
~ teaching the divine wisdom of the earth to all and thereby preventing the further annihilation of every other living being on the planet

well, fuck
‘find your purpose, find what gets you out of bed in the morning’
the world’s on fire
and what’s my purpose

where’s my phone?
i scan the still-dark room
and spot it plugged-in on the other side
i lean as far over as i can without getting
out of bed
and nudge it with the tip of my finger
nudge, nudge
til it’s close enough to palm
and i feel the familiar cold weight

‘don’t let a moment slip away’
scroll, click
‘start your morning with this routine and fix your life forever’
scroll, scroll
‘3,000 displaced people seek refuge amongst hate and public outcry in border town’
‘another innocent man gunned down for wearing black skin’
‘karen had pizza for dinner’ mmm what kind? oh, pineapple
‘nation’s old-growth forests dwindle to 7%, continue to decline’

get out of bed
get out there and live your purpose

7.7 billion people are living and dying right now
their realities bump and collide and swirl, connected just by being
the overwhelming majority just a
passing face on the street, in the news
a sweeping generalization
a judgement, a bias
a peripheral glance

most are just holding on, surviving
what’s your purpose for getting up this morning?

i blink into the dawn of the day
cascading in from behind the curtains
and i sigh, and i groan, and i smile

my purpose today
it’s not grandiose
it’ll never make it as a headline
or as a youtube vid
it’s simply that
i can change my heart and mind at any time
about anything at all
and it’s imperative that i do!
that’s a real fucking thing to work on today!
to change
one’s heart and one’s mind

it’s a fine mission today!

move and shift
with grace and intention
in even the smallest of acts
observe one’s judgements
and feel what it is to connect
the lies in the mind to the truths of the heart
and to do away with them

look for the thread of connection
in the minute, in the average, in the routine
to find a new eye in which to see
it all more clearly

on the surface
it doesn’t feel like an enormous thing to
find purpose in
today, no
but can you fucking imagine
if everyone felt their purpose today
was to change their heart and their mind

i reckon that’s how it goes down
that some dude out there
puts down the gun
that some gal out there
deletes her hate-filled words
that some drumpf out there
has this change of heart and mind
so huge that
it ripples through the threads that connect us all

as soon as they know better
they’ll change their heart, they’ll change their mind


can you just imagine!

“time flies when you’re …”

yeah, that takes time’

my eyebrows raised in response
to the deadpan look on his face
and i let out what could only be described
as a guffaw

‘heh hmm, yes, that it does’

our time together
was drawing to a close
having just spent the week in the presence of
this intriguing human whose heart and soul
were just so obvious, so open
whereas the man in the middle of both
was evasive and cloaked in
a mystery only an introvert
can really wear

‘it would be really nice to get to know you better’

i had said it with honesty
and with the expected niceties
when in the presence of an acquaintance
and maybe with an expectation
that he’d agree
but i just wound up feeling humbled
by his simple truth

it takes time

and it’s funny because
i’ve grown up in a culture that wants it all
the quick fix
the one weekend
workshop to find enlightenment
30 minutes or less, skip the dishes
a brief exchange of words and pictures
via the
latest dating app
one more meme to post
so someone else can catch a glimpse
of a feeling

and it’s not really funny
the true value
of presence
is so easily
lost to another episode of
the latest netflicks binge
and cellphone scroll through meal-time
and it’s
driving this culture
to anxiety and depression
where the past lingers
and the future looms
and the here and now
is only casually glimpsed
in a moment when one forgets to
disengage from their self

and i wonder how
anyone ever finds the time
to be anywhere else

it was an afterthought
days after our exchange
that i had a moment where
i wanted to come back to him and
tell him that
i didn’t need to get to know the man
between the heart and the soul
that the truth would lie
in the moments where
I knew myself

for to know myself
would be to know all of creation
and that
i could see Him anyways
beyond our stories of past and future

if i just allowed for stillness
i could know myself
i could know him

if i just allowed for stillness

so, i don’t know
to truly know someone, something
the hows and whys
the real journey, the real story
the real reason
maybe that kind of knowing can
only Be
within the
absence of time

and that,
that is everpresent

have you ever experienced the
of meeting another’s eyes
and recognizing each other’s
in the present

a witnessing of all this glorious

i live for that

free the body, find freedom

“So you see, if you become aware of the fact that you are all of your own body, and that the beating of your heart is not just something that happens to you, but something you’re doing, then you become aware also in the same moment and at the same time that you’re not only beating your heart, but that you are shining the sun. Why? Because the process of your bodily existence and its rhythms is a process, an energy system which is continuous with the shining of the sun, just like the East River. Here is a continuous energy system, and all the waves in it are activities of the whole East River, and that’s continuous with the Atlantic Ocean, and that’s all one energy system. And finally, the Atlantic ocean gets around to being the Pacific Ocean and the Indian Ocean, etc. So all the waters of the Earth are a continuous energy system. It isn’t just that the East River is part of it. You can’t draw any line and say ‘Look, this is where the East River ends and the rest of it begins,’ as you can in the parts of an automobile, where you can say, ‘This is definitely a part of the generator here, and over here is a spark plug.’
There’s not that kind of isolation between the elements of nature.”
― Alan Watts

it’s not often that i ask my feet to relax
though one should think that such an important member
of this flesh and bone expression
ought to warrant more attention

‘relax feet, have faith the earth will support you, have faith’
i lay on my mat, eyes closed
all of my attention placed upon
my toes

oh! and those toes
they pulse with the rhythm of my heart
‘relax feet, have faith’ i breathe into them
in on five counts, out on six
they acknowledge and
quiver with delight

‘okay, ankles, shins, calves …’
and so it goes
up and up and up the body
five counts inhale, six exhale

the requests for relaxation and faith
and letting go
are met with resistance


the mind dully notices that
each member of this body
has its own story
and not every one is willing to part with theirs

after years of disregard

so i lay with
patient attention
and feel the overwhelming tension held
in the ankles and the shins and the calves
enough to make me cry and shake
and squirm with anger and frustration

i breathe through it anyways

‘let go, have faith

i cry as the body cries
waking up from its
nightmarish slumber
of wounds and buried feelings

and oh god
it’s too much to bare

so  i breathe deeper

laying on the floor
moment for moment
time stalls as i get to know
who has joined me
for this human experience

and one by one they say
‘hey! where’ve you been?’
‘been waiting for you this whole time
for you to wake up and notice me as

and wow
divinity is expansive
a spacious room in which to dwell!
mmm, newly remembered freedom!

and ah, each time i
get on my mat
and discuss life with all the bits that
make up the whole
i just
give respect where it is due
to all the parts that i call
my home


heh, i remember this one time
on a pebble beach looking out on the
juan de fuca

here i am, coming up on lsd
and i come to the truth that my feet
were sensory devices
not unlike hands or eyes or ears

that each toe was its own person
with different intents and purpose
and how we bind our feet
with plastic shoes and concrete

and it’s no wonder that
this western society is so disconnected from
the soil that raises us

each pebble that sunk into my
heels and my soles
my soul
sent sensation to parts of the body
enough to wake me to their
true nature

and ahh
that cannot be unlearned


free the feet, free the body
find freedom

6/99 ~ to live like the wild ones

“Before our white brothers came to civilize us we had no jails. Therefore we had no criminals. You can’t have criminals without a jail. We had no locks or keys, and so we had no thieves. If a man was so poor that he had no horse, tipi or blanket, someone gave him these things. We were too uncivilized to set much value on personal belongings. We wanted to have things only in order to give them away. We had no money, and therefore a man’s worth couldn’t be measured by it. We had no written law, no attorney or politicians, therefore we couldn’t cheat. We were in a really bad way before the white man came, and I don’t know how we managed to get along without the basic things which, we are told, are absolutely necessary to make a civilized society.”

-John (Fire) Lame Deer


it was already dusk by the time we made it to the banks
of the Red River, exhausted
we dumped our bags on the wet sand and flopped down
taking in what lay on the other side
bright city lights and the faint sounds of sirens and engines revving

‘i don’t know why you’ve been acting so ashamed’
my travel pal said mildly disgusted, as he often tended to
‘we aren’t the problem. just take a look around. we aren’t the problem’
i knew in my heart i wasn’t necessarily a problem but in my head
i was a slug, a burden, a no-thing

after spending a few weeks stuck in a city
living on the fringes
with my home on my back
the endless seas of cars and faces that
avoided my gaze or didn’t see me at all
had left me downtrodden

i looked out on the water, and then at the trash and debris caught on the shoreline

‘we aren’t really much different than that guy you’ve been reading about,
Lame Deer, doing his best to live free within the confines of a civilization that has taken it all away’

the deep breath i tried to take met with the constriction in my diaphragm
and i just sighed and sunk deeper into the frayed canvas of my overstuffed backpack
‘yeah, i dunno’
i could usually count on this guy to shake me up out of my limiting beliefs
but bringing up the suffering of Lame Deer and his people
just made me feel ashamed for feeling ashamed

the sun had long since sunk below the horizon by then
and under the refuge of darkness we relaxed enough to set up camp

in the morning i tried to imagine what this bank
on the Red River would have looked like
what it would have sounded like
200 years ago
before this land had been claimed
to be anything other than free

surely i would have felt free to be there then

eh, but

no matter,
we had to pack our things up quickly before too many eyes
saw us

the rest of the day i imagined
the houseless people of the city as
the nomadic people of a time that once was
when this land had been the home for the
wild ones

and now, how those unable to adjust to a society that required them to
live in four walls, and
pay taxes
who didn’t want to pay
for living on the earth
were cast aside and overlooked
the low layers of a
sickly society that poisoned
the same river they drank from

in a city of millions
how could one man’s freedom
endanger the freedom of another?
was freedom truly found in the dollar
and did it somehow justify the brutal intolerance
of anyone who chose to live outside the margins?

i know the answers
and i proclaim that without hesitation, for
the answers are weaved into the fabric of all creation
the shoreline on the Red River waxes poetic of freedom reigned
and the free peoples of times before find their voice in those that
still live
like the wild ones

5/99 ~ it could have been a missed connection

i had lied to him
that afternoon
hanging out sun-drenched, legs splayed on the dock
the strait of georgia
and an anticipation of me having to board a plane soon

a lull in the conversation and i say
‘yeah, i had a thought about finding an edible for the flight, but no luck’
not true
‘oh? i can help you out with that! come see’
it was time to get going anyways

so we’re in the truck
i’m thc sober going on nine months
and a pit of nerves sits in my stomach
‘is this a good idea?’
i don’t know why i said i wanted this

‘oh, you’ll be fine’

by the time i pass through security, life starts to tilt
and i wander around in an impermeable bubble of anxiety
and everyone surely knows that i’m not quite right
so i sit alone in the corner of a waiting area
trying to appear normal

i sneak a peek around, no one is watching
of course

life is full on tilt by now
and i have to paddle my bubble to the shores of
my waiting area
it’s going to be time to board soon

i sit next to a woman who is stretching
and she’s moving her body this way and that
and it looks like it feels SO GOOD
so i start shimmying in my seat,
the thc forcing my body to do the same

it’s rare to see someone in a public domain
such as an airport
so zoned in and focused on their own body
maybe she was a yogi, or a dancer
and i could completely relate to her need to
stretch out her bits and bobbles
and because it’s such a rare sight to see
i just had this feeling that we could connect on something
so personal

i was just so drawn to this woman

i sat up straight in my seat
and raised my arms up overhead, face towards the ceiling
and sighed with relief as tendon and muscle
found their proper homes

‘stretching is as contagious as yawning’ i say to her
as i stand up to join her
and now we’re both contorting our bodies
in the busy waiting area

she looks at me wide-eyed, coming out of her zone
and leans over and whispers to me
‘i just consumed an edible. i like seriously can’t help myself’
and i start laughing
and any anxiety i had left me
as i said, ‘oh my god, me too! i just knew there was
something about you …’
and we looked at each other and laughed and laughed
and stretched
comforted in sharing this tilty life together

it wasn’t long before we parted ways
boarded flights
i still remember what she looks like
and what she was wearing
it was maybe only 15 minutes of a lifetime
but it lingers

it serves as a juxtaposition to
all the missed connections
i can still vividly remember
where fear overruled the incredible desire to connect
with someone who stood out from the crowd
with someone who really caught my eye
all of the times i wanted to reach out
but walked away instead

and it gets me wondering about
all the missed opportunities to really
find solace in another human
to share just a moment that could linger
long after

i’d like to think that i won’t let these snippets of life
pass me by
i’d like to think so
but i’m still missing far more connections
than i make

i’d like to think so