lead from the heart

universe_person-1675

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
and
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
rigid
tight
weak
an unfortunate identity of
who the mind thinks the
spirit is

the body,
a storybook of the journey
so far

the body, a manifestation

and
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

and
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
expansive
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

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
shit
‘find your purpose, find what gets you out of bed in the morning’
fuck
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
click
‘3,000 displaced people seek refuge amongst hate and public outcry in border town’
scroll
click
‘another innocent man gunned down for wearing black skin’
scroll
‘karen had pizza for dinner’ mmm what kind? oh, pineapple
scroll
scroll
‘nation’s old-growth forests dwindle to 7%, continue to decline’
scroll

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
and
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!

to
move and shift
with grace and intention
in even the smallest of acts
to
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

to
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

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

(salvation!)

can you just imagine!

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

so
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
and
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

but
i’d like to think so

some thoughts from the road

disgruntled coffee shop writing:

words of gold
a pretty picture
soiled with new aged advertising
wisdom at a cost
mm
quick gratification
a fast food restaurant
for hungry souls
in and out in and out
regurgitate
forget
repeat
real times feeling
malnourishedP1030426

you won’t believe this
videos
casting shadows
that smell like
the mainstream news
that this online army
of new thought warriors
are disobeying
by not watching
as they watch
puppies play
and good deeds done by others
realized people creating
and
um
distracted any way
whatever

underground news
trickling up and into
the rivers and streams
of mass consciousness
but from
one or two
sources
and careful
they aren’t contaminated
as we share and share
without digging deeper
into the real underground
now
where the real times
are
thirsty
so fucking thirsty

this online
revolution
is over
it’s under mining us
wiping the good soils
out from under us
we need those soils
to grow our lives
in the real times
with the real foods
building the real wealth enterprise
of self governed self loving self sufficient
tribes

yarr
pluto in scorpio
generation
it’s been done
our presence is huge
now
we’ve uncovered and discovered
all we needed to empower
our neighbours
to tear down their own fence
and scatter their own seeds
and without another word of it
breathe in
our own empowerment

and the ‪#‎real‬ work begin

more disgruntled coffee suppin:

Domesticated, and i`m not keeping care of my self

i walk into the grocery store
and nothing looks good any more
mass produced and grown in a row
even the kale today has no soul

sacred plant medicine beyond recognition
powdered and stored for store fronts
fronting power
plant matter
but no matter
There`s no soul wrapped in plastic

going raw, gonna fast, gluten free, sugar free, paleo,
vegan, vegetarian
fuck it all, i`m going soulitarian
not solitarian
but wide open heart opened crying gonna crack it open keep it going
and it`s so painful

to deny this feeling
a dissatisfaction of living around what i`m seeing
can`t pretend that it`s a glowy rosy meme of enlightened
Acceptance
Om, true peace comes from within
take a piece of my heart then
my soul is merging
with yours it`s emerging

soulless how you doing
oh fine
missed opportunity
for a real meal of superfood
soul food
it`s not `all good`
why deny your self
like a factory farmed cow to slaughter
or another orange tossed into a box for a dollar

It`s all the same
another metaphor
for what`s really going on
going through the motions
souls yearning for a real connection
your eyes showing
what`s really going on

behind your closed doors

enough of the bullshit storefront gotta put up a front
to save face
i need to go raw again
but raw in a way you can see
nourishment in a moment
when two eyes, real eyes
realize real lies
tears and fears and oh the fears
oh we know it
we`ve preached it all over our walls
but i can`t take it any more
fuck the walls
that keep us

domesticated
and afraid

and i`m not keeping care of my self

Beginning anew, but from the beginning ~ the Why ~

A change of mind warrants a change of lifestyle, though often it takes a certain amount of tortured festering of one’s happiness to do something about it. It’s not as though I was living the vision of the life I wanted, but I clung to it like a weathered blanket, making excuses for why I continued to perpetuate the misery of habituation while spreading my dis ease to others. I had needs that my routine city life couldn’t touch, that no one could touch, and I spent a lot of time alone reminding myself that I was the Creator – that like a gifted artist painting a picture, all I had to do was put the brush on paper, to take that first brave coloured stroke of decision, setting aside the mind and jibber jabber thought patterns that restrict the flow of unfolding.

All life experience is setting the stage for the ultimate destination of Purpose, and when those experiences seize to inspire movement in a forward direction, the choice is to either survive on a lower vibration or change the station – and to thrive is thy nature. I made the decision to move on, but where to go from there was a stroke I had yet to take. I knew I didn’t want another ‘job’ again, and I didn’t have it in me to compromise my self anymore, to try and build a new lifestyle in an environment I wanted nothing to do with. I knew I just had to go.

For years I’ve taken refuge in the thought that I could walk out my front door one day and be provided for, that the security I find in my home, work, and relationships, is superficial compared to the comforting embrace of a fearless heart that knows everything is already here, has already been done. The thinking of some-thing, and the doing of something though, almost entirely unrelated to each other; the thinking full of imaginative scenarios full of grandeur and success, and the doing, not without actual mundane sacrifices, stresses, and hardships. The outcome could very well be the same if one doesn’t get down on the doing part of it all, but the reality is that no thing comes without a bit of suffering. Arm yourself with remembrance and just go.

Just go, ahhh, just go! What are you waiting for! GO!

I packed my bicycle with bags that carried the bare essentials, not a lot of money but a bit of faith – I can always come back right, put the last period (more like a dotdotdot…) on my current life story, and in a state of disbelief dropped off at the ferry terminal to catch a ride to the other side, my stomach twisted in knots and my heart wild with adventure. Heeeeeeere we go! Like a knobby kneed doe, I became acquainted with the power of my direction.

I chose to bicycle away from my front door because of the very simplicity of it – a self-managed mode of transporting oneself through the inner territories of the mind while being fully immersed in the territory of earthly existence. One pedal at a time, one hill at a time, one pounding heart beat at a time. There is no shuttle-effect, like the ingenuity of flight or vehicle, where you go from one destination to the next without much more exertion than the unconscious stress the body holds while it is being propelled through space and time. On two wheels one is gradually farther from home and further along a road that becomes more home in each moment, like a warm easing in to the ever-changing landscape, giving time for such an adventure to take shape so one can begin to see the picture forming from what was once just a brush stroke.

My heart just has to say—

Bicycling is attuned with the vibration of love. Feel your skin collecting rays from the sun, feel the change in wind and the mystery of what’s around the bend, say hello to the butterflies and the bees that come to visit for a moment, and whistle with the birds as you craft your own song to sing. Take a break when you want to, camp out where you need to, and relax into the steady rhythm of living. There is no rest stop to wait for or pullout required, the bushes and the trees, the valleys and the hill tops, are all offering to support you in your journey. Take their offerings and leave your gift of pure acknowledgement – ‘I see you tree!’, a symbiotic love of seeing and being seen (maybe even for the first time?). Sleep on the ground and under the stars and find yourself waking up with the sun. Find the moon in the sky and tune in to the shifting light of darkness as she guides you through discovering your own moon cycle. Tune in, it’s life —

I am approaching 6 months since the time I left my front door, and what started out as a bike ride has, as I thought it would, unravelled the strings around my purpose so that I can see it more clearly. I have spent months off of the bicycle in that time, living and working towards my vision, the picture is by no means finished but now I know what I’m painting. With a clearer understanding of where it’s all leading to, I’m breathing life back into this journal so I can begin to share it with you again. I started this journal so that I could begin to heal the wounds of a self afflicting censorship that has disabled my creativity, but fuck it, now I actually believe I have a gift to share. Foibles and floundering for you to see a small piece of a sincere me, with a pinch of insight and words meant to inspire so that you too live the life you desire.

Hello again!

 

christmas heart strummin

it doesn’t feel like christmas today

maybe because i didn’t wake up to the smells of brewing coffee or the sound of laughter around the kitchen table, no cheery music, no stocking to investigate
– i woke up wondering if any grocery stores would be open – i forgot to pick up some food

it’s supposed to get to 30 degrees, not a cloud in the sky to block the sun from burning my eyes
palm trees look silly today
the highway, menacing
but i have a gift
a present
i knew this day would come
so i tied it in a bow of twine
tucked it away
because i wanted to open it in front of you
to unravel it slowly relishing the flavours
of sweet remembrance

i pull the bow of twine
and
your face comes to mind
and i see the twinkle in your eyes
i see you
we shared a moment in time
that i can only remember now
but the feeling is still so
present
you’re here- right here, in my little ol’ pitter patter machine!
though it is bitter-sweet
because you’re not there
to receive my smile
in the present
but maybe you feel it anyways

i keep pulling
and i hear your laugh
it tickles my ear drum
and my eyes prickle
i want to tell another joke
so i can hear it again
but the laughter fades
replaced with the hum of the
present
i giggle anyways
you would have too, i know

the taut twine loosens
as i play a chord
on my heart string
a lone note
that i savour
it sounds like you and i
when we’re together
no one else would hear it quite the same way
as you and i
it’s different every time anyways
hum, let’s dance

unravelling
unravelled

and
naturally

that bow of twine
has changed
where once was two
is now one
it sounds lonely
hum
and maybe it won’t bow again
but one is endless
we don’t need the bow to remember
that we’re still together
the form changed but it remains
that it was always just one piece of twine anyways

it fooled me too

YOU – family, friends, loved ones… thank you for being with me, what a gift

no peep for a while, but…

6 weeks ago i found myself up a hill on a nor.cal specialty farm and here i am still; rugged rural living reveals foot and foibles through holes in socks and soul supporting spherical revolutions of seemingly unrelated stories that intertwine for a time and find resolution or as a line on a fresh sheet of paper to rehash with hash lata. teeny tiny tent traded in for a towering tipi, showering maybe once weekly, standards of living lighten up as I brighten up with fresh eyes of abundance and a polished vision of prosperity. totally out of the loop but feeling groovy. southbound again uber soon, holy fook a duke time to get mooooving!

tipi

hugs so good we don’t know whose heart is whose when we let go

I awake to the sound of roosters in the distance, the air is cold cold cold but I am warm and snug inside my sleeping bag, in my teeny tiny orange home nestled in the tame woods of the homestead and permaculture-inspired Laytonville ecovillage. There is no hurry to do any thing, though the thoughts of sipping hot tea around the warmth of a fire is enough to make me unzip and step out into the world. I make the trek down the path through the woods to the outdoor kitchen and communal area, a sleeping bag wrapped around my gently aching body from yesterday’s work, and yet again I find myself marinating in anticipation for this new day.

My tent has been pitched in the same spot for 3 weeks, a welcoming contrast to the daily get-up-and-go vibes of the month prior, and my soul feels acclimatized – the settled feeling one has when all of their emotional, physical, and spiritual needs are met. The travelling life offers perpetual stimulation and humbling lessons and challenges for soul maturation, and a life of stability offers one the chance to integrate the lessons of that past – the full realization of the depth of change that occurs when one lives outside the comfort zone. Volleying the two energies about in an authentic game of snakes and ladders keeps life fresh and inspired, aligned in the flow of ying and yang, fast and slow, hard and easy, the extraordinary and mundane — a joyful expression of the circular nature of all things.

I like to hug. A lot a lot. The timeless space of free affection felt as ones breath begins to align with another, the instant release of stress and dis ease as warmth spreads from one heart beat to the other. Good hugs acknowledge the connection, and excellent hugs unquestionably remind that there is no separation, that my heart is your heart is their heart. Release the shoulders, relaaaax, deep breath, siiiiighhhh and giggle as the exchange of sexual creative energy vibrates peacefully through out, filling any needs for nurturance and fulfilment. I can never underestimate the power of a hug, the one act deeply missed as I travelled alone on my way south. The verbal connections found and made, the smiles exchanged, and the stories shared were no match for the hugs I began to give and receive just as I needed the physical expression of love the most. I was writing a letter to a dear friend (tiny T!), which sorry I never sent again, at night in my tent, letting a tear slip out as I reminisced of famlied-friends (a term coined by me just now?) and our free exchange of physical comfort, pen-to-paper shouting to the universe that I was in need of someo’this NOW. I fell asleep feeling better for expressing my needs, as futile as it might have seemed at the time, and looking back with hindsight at my disposal, the universe was quick to heed my call.

This entry begins to pull together two lessons that intertwine with one another seamlessly, lessons that I have been given over and over again by self and others, to which I am fully grasping now as I ground myself in the physical and metaphysical planes of existence. One, the requirement to admit and call out for help – you do not have to do this alone!, and two, the beauty of community and the freedom to love without boundaries. They intertwine naturally, as the need for help is reduced with each connection that blossoms, the supportive energies that build internally as the external world manifests around you with bodies and faces that express their support and care with bright eyes and given smiles.

How many people I have met on the way who have insisted that I ask for what I need! How many of them that have done just that, and received all that they needed in abundance. I, shy and timid to ask in an absurd fear of rejection, knew this to be true but could not bring myself to open up and admit a thing. So I experienced almost all of my hardships alone, feeling alone, in being, alone. The letter I wrote was one emotionally charged and in tune with the rhythm of living, and as such was answered just as I had intended it would be. The following day, after my letter of manifestation, a round-pole natural building work shop was hosted by the ecovillage, and in such an abundance of radiant souls came to learn more about living with the land. Oh how lucky was I to get the chance to know and be known! In the knowing, in the full expression of spirit, hugs of plenty were inevitable – I laughing at the universe’s sly humour, for inviting so much abundance into my life, for filling me fully up with kindred souls and new opportunities, opportunities that supported the new growth of being.

As I said, with community comes support, they are one, and with each new connection I have made over the past few weeks, the more I feel contented and at peace, despite my lack of wares and money. I am in the same position I was in weeks ago camping out in the Redwoods, save the fact that I have voiced my needs to people that care, and that support me in ways that I could not have done so by my self. I in turn give to them freely of myself what I am able. The exchange of energies match each other, and I no longer worry or wonder about where my next meal might come from, or lack feelings of acceptance and love.

In the short time since my last entry, I have found sisters and brothers, two homes, daily fresh food grown on the land, supportive dialogue and endless physical affection. I have travelled to Mount Shasta for a Rainbow Gathering in a flurry of sexual and creative healing, explored with sensitive bare feet, began to express my knowledge and thereby teachings of astrology and tarot to others, worked with trees and wood to build beautiful natural structures, picked more plums off the tree than we know what to do with, and have learned so much about myself by knowing others. I feel supported, loved, and a developing jupiter-expanding world view – that yes, everything is already here! Believe that you have everything, and you do!

As life lives on, I have so much to share, when the time is right, but friends know that I am feeling and being all of my experiences, and that someday I’ll hug you again with even more of my self, and all of this love that I am learning will touch your soul too. Yay! the awesome realization that that which benefits me, benefits you, and round and round it goes. I am wishing for you the power to overcome the challenges with humility, and the wisdom to share your strengths, so we can all get through it together.

CA ❤

i never thought I would be here, doing this

I met Wild Man outside of the grocery store, I stuffing as much food as I could into my pannier bags, and he doing his best to restrain Big Boy so that the friendly beast of a Labrador-Rotweiler cross wouldn’t escape from the dusty white 2 door pickup truck they were riding in.

 ‘Where ya from? – Oh yeah? Let me tell you about this one time I was in Canada, and everyone I’ve ever met from Canada, and then – SHUT UP BIG BOY — every cool thing I’ve ever done in my 60 years—‘
‘Cool, cool. Yeah man. Hah really! Swee-‘
‘I have the best swimming hole in the country on my property.’
‘Cool,cool. Swee-‘
‘I also have a huge farm – you know what this land is famous for yea?’
‘That’s why I’m here.’

‘Well it’s your lucky day, I have lotsa work, let me grab a few things and I’ll take you there.’
‘Mmm, well I planned on sticking around town for a bit longer  *shifty eyes*
 how about you tell me where it is, and I’ll come by in a few days? Phone number too, eh?’

And so a new season begins.

My style of logging is not so much to rehash the amazing mind warping past of the weeks that have gone by, the weeks of ‘no internet’ thus no web logging, but to continue representing ‘A day in the life of’, where the long gone days are already stored in the bank of ‘stories I’ll share throughout the years when something of the present reminds me of the past, and I am able to relive it once more while hopefully offering a nugget of insight, inspiration, or comedic value to whomever is present during the time of said rehashing’.

Some key phrases or words of the past few weeks: Forest. Alone and again alone. Revelations, painful. Down to last $20, what do I do? Peanut butter, pasta, and bread.  Broccoli, dinner treat. Hiding out in redwood forest, waiting for something to happen. Angels descend, wisdom and encouragement offered. Feeling small and insignificant yet  Ancient trees nurturing. So many letters written but never sent. Set up tent, set up home. Waiting till dark. What goes bump in the night? I am supported. I am loved. I am grateful. Simplicity of living. Enlightened sun beams. Tragic bug bites. This too, all of this, shall pass. Aum, connecting. ‘Everything is gonna be alright’ – whistling.

I am laying on a motel bed, the biggest splurge of the journey – omg a room to myself!- the fan is on, attempting to fight the 40 degree heat of the day, and my belongings are scattered, my clothes are off, and the fridge is full of sustenance that are too rich for my pocket, but entirely necessary for one to spend an entire day lounging around with contentedly – a scene of pure cancer-moon comfort. I am glad I can share this in the comfort of the rich imagination of our collective wonderment, you can replace me with yourself, and gain the appreciation of having a comfortable place to rest in after almost 6 weeks in a little tent. This short stay a byproduct of the 4 hour day yesterday of trimming some of Northern California’s biggest underground but totally exposed cash crop.

‘I can’t believe this.’

I came to Wild Man’s land via an old bridge with no railings, an incredible distance above from the creek below – a sure death if one weren’t too careful, the wafts of marijuana plants appealingly pungent and robust with flavour, and the biggest dogs I ever did see, ever, running around wagging tails and barking. 1 trailer and 3 RV’s dot the dusty land nestled in between a steep incline of mountainous trees and the  unsightly clutter of equipment and waste all but forgotten in the overwhelming mid day heat.

The tour consisted of a green house, an acre of green green sugary-smelling shrubs, and the disastrous innards of the main house and its patio deck – a mountain of trash, dirty dishes, and mouse turds. I am taken back, but not surprised – I would have been more surprised and relieved, to find a more organized residence of a tall yellow haired man dubbed Wild Man, but alas his property is a reflection of what I had come to suspect in the grocery store parking lot.  Totally innocent, but totally awash in a sea of ignorance.

My first instinct is to start cleaning, and I tell Wild Man of my love for organizing. He is appreciative of said love, and I go to work immediately in cleaning off the deck – the trim area, and the area I intend to spend most of my waking moments at. The deck offers tangible demonstrations of the effort I have put in in order to cultivate a space in which I can freely live and work in happily, but as soon as I enter the interior and begin in the kitchen, the next station I imagine myself spending a lot of time in, I balk in terror (what is that smell?fuck) and even the gloves I am wearing do not offer me the protection of mind I require in order to meet my immediate needs, and I find I am on a downwards spiral of motivation, losing all of the naive energy I had once had for this hopeless project. The trailer needs to be bulldozed, any health and sanitary inspector could see the same.  

There is no clean water to drink other than cheap bottled water, ‘don’t drink the water from the tap, we found a dead bird in the spring’, and I take preference to squatting outside over using the washroom. I start to feel paranoid about washing my vegetables in water and decide I also don’t want to shower, so I go to bed early caked with thc crystals, dog slobber, and dust.

I spend the night in my tent, with dogs intermittently guarding me, barking, and rummaging through the surrounding bushes. Home? I sleep, some times.

I wake up early, fresh with the question marks of what is to come, and after a quick breakfast of granola and bananas, I am put to work in the fields, armed with a sharp pair of scissors, ‘landscaping’ the big bushes of bud that have been neglected and over-run for months and in critical status, teetering on the brink of moldy death. This is the first time I have ever found myself next to a marijuana plant, and I find that I sincerely enjoy spending time cropping and removing the leaves and foliage that prevent it from receiving maximum sunlight, the foliage that keeps that buds on top from growing to gigantic proportions.

Music is coming from the green house nearby, and the radio is blasting music from the local Christian rock radio station, and after a quick ‘break’ with one of the men also working the field- Mud, I find my self in acknowledgement –  this weed is Christian. And Christian rock music is geared towards people who are feeling hopeless and directionless in life, requiring some form of optimistic reassurance that life will indeed get better, and that the pain they live is not lived alone – we’ve all been through loss, grief, indecision, and loneliness. My previous judgements on Christianity and religion in general, is lost in a shed of quick tears and understanding, that those who seek religion are in grief and are suffering, and they are ignorant in only that they do not know that all is god (even this suffering shit), that we are supported, there is no real distinction between any one thing, only perception of mind >>>

I am now covered and sticky with THC after hugging bushes all morning, and my face is beginning to flush from the sun, so I depart the fields and the uplifting god blessed music, to the deck so that I can start trimming the preseason stalks.

After a no-tutorial, I am resigned to a 5 hour fate of sitting in a chair, interchanging sticky scissors with ones soaking in alcohol, cleaning off very leafy bud, bud I would have never purchased my self, and thinking of ways of how to break it to Wild Man that I could not live at his place as it was. I have already found a clean, safe space to stay at – an ecovillage not far from town, a place I had found on the WWOOF site – 10 hours work weeks in exchange for sustainable living education and a place to call home. After getting paid out for the day – $170 total, I check into my humble tent, relieved that I do always  have one clean spot in which to relax in.

As night began, the dogs begin to bark, and do not relent – still nobly on guard of my tent within ear range, until the whee hours of the morning, and I am decided, I will leave in the morning.

I offer my services to Wild Man, but from a distant ‘few days/week’, take my earnings and hide out in the motel room where I bathe, and veg out from the past weeks of forest dwelling. The days past, totally worth it for this little piece of gratification.

Tomorrow, I meet the community at the Ecovillage, and I hope that I have found a comfortable spot to live at as I continue to find work in the predominate industry of the county, networking, and making connections with people. I have word from a few farms for October, ones that align more with my philosophies of healthy living, and feel content to be in this area and wait for when work is available.

A new season of work begins, so that a new season of travel come mid December is well cushioned.

~I work today so that I can play tomorrow~

Writing again, soon enough

extroverted introspection

California.

I sit in a park of green green grass — amongst the brown that was not touched by the sprinkler – that which is sparsely populated with trees that know wind all too well, and my straw coloured hair whips across my brown and freckled cheeks making it difficult to focus as my picnic is threatening to pick up and move across the park and into the ocean if I don’t use all of my good sense in hunkering down. I have already made one run for my notebook as the pages flipped open and spilled all of its precious content for the universe to see (not as though it hasn’t already seen all there is to see, but I would compare it to an ‘up-skirt’ panty shot you would find in the tabloids, nothing too out of the ordinary but invasive and rude all the same).

Any and all pressing issues – the real and the not- are blown out of proportion now that I am on the homestretch of my first premeditated pit stop, the Redwoods of N.Cal. I suspect once I find a calmer port to call home for the evening, that which this wind has strewn about will find itself on steady grounds and I’ll gain clarity on where to turn to next, my current surroundings being the manifestations of the reality in my mind (a reality that only I am to face!) I giggled when I noticed that in my first post I used the symbolism of mind as the ache in my shoulders, and now, the physical reality of the genuine ache in my shoulder — predestined in a way that only synchronicities can be, if you are keen enough to find them.

This life and all of its players are a metaphor within a metaphor within a metaphor and once the metaphor is seen and understood, one is freed from the confines of what it represents, going beyond its face value and into new territory, usually another metaphor (which adds another dimension to life). Travelling does not in anyway distract you, or I – whatever, from the actuality of what is of mind, but amplifies it, and instead of having it be cast aside in the ‘I’ll get to it later’ mindset as is usually done when one is in routine at home, the symbolism behind every change in direction, every strewn page and excessive thought or purchase, every dribble down the front of one’s preferred outfit, every bruise and scar, every person that one does or does not connect with, can be witnessed and studied and paired with some psychological grappling that begs for healing.

I am unable to suffer from a thought or from a physical dis-ease without looking to find the origin, whether I find it or not depends on whether I am ready for it, as if I am it is clearly there in the light of day looking for a little love to comfort it. I’ve been drinking a lot of wine lately, ironically being that I’d been so *disgusted* with the act of drinking that I’ve avoided its intoxication for years, but now that I have all of the time in the world to examine the excessiveness of drink, the excessiveness of any thing, I am partaking and comprehending, and partaking again, ready to repeat what I gained from the last bottle of vino or whathaveyou, and yet not quite ready to part with it. Coffee has become my friend again, and if I do not have drink or caffeine, my mind is probably ready for food. Anything that I am able to use to excess, I am ready to obliterate my being with. I prefer to come head to head with excess rather than push it aside, afraid and resentful of what it represents —

as

It is futile, when a pot smoker is against drink, and a coffee addict against pot, a drink against anything at all – a health fanatic proclaiming to be above it all– as what they are is against fear; against anything is fear itself. The free mind is impartial to all, and neither for or against the intoxicant or state one finds their self or others in, but empathic and understanding of the methods in which one attempts to hide their essential nature from their self, whether they do or not, they are able to find acceptance. In acceptance comes healing. In finding this, I am not any longer saying no to anything, until it is as authentic as breathing, and there is no moral decision to be made, only one of ‘yes please’ or ‘no thank you’ without the judgement that tends to tag along.

I’m writing this as if it’s the ever pressing issue I am faced with, but really it’s a side project I’m working on – one of authenticity and understanding. Most of the time I am sober of thought and mind, with periods of boredom, contentment, loneliness, rage, and ecstasy, the usual per usual, unenlightened and some times uninspired and ready to veg the f out. My face burns with sun and dehydration, when I look inside my wallet it’s like playing hide-and-go-seek, and my hair is forever tangled with perspiration and wind. I love to live and I live to love and a cliche is only a cliche if you don’t understand as all words and efforts of word are meaningless compared to the depth of feeling – symbology only spirit can comprehend.

As fer this dang on’ dang road, like I said I’ve reached California, way ahead of schedule if there ever was one. The road has been good to me and I have aged in this short time. The people and ‘scenic detours’ caring and fleeting in passing and I’ll probably write about those adventures tomorrow, when I hang out in Trinidad (California) for a while. I intend to search for a farm, or some farms, to work on until it’s time to get to work on what I really came to these parts for, which is another story all together.

 

 

In this short span of time

~

I remind myself that all of this is mine, alone.

I align with truth, as I Am

No Thing is truth

No Thing can align me with truth

As I Am

 

Each day I awake I am confirming

that

I start again

 

The tediousness of living/repeat for best results