Happy Death Day

I'm not exactly sure what a Yartzite is.  I'm sure I could look it up quickly on wikipedia.  But so could you.  Stop being lazy.

For now I'm going to assume that it is the Jewish name for the yearly remembrance of the day someone you cared for died.  Yesterday was my grandmother.  Who's name, to me at least, was mamu  (pronounced "ma-moo").  And my name to her was "the little one."  Even when I finally grew taller than her (which was quickly.  She was quite short.)

Today was a friends birthday.  It struck me as quite appropriate, though novel to me, that a religion would have the equivalent of a birthday, but for death.  After all, They are, for all people, two of the most important days of anyone's life.

After my closest friend killed themselves, in addition to the grief, was an experience that made me unafraid of death, and quite certain that the core of who a person was kept existing after their body stopped working.  It was just a feeling, a feeling that, though I could no longer hear him as clearly, nothing about him had really changed.  He hadn't stopped existing.  I felt him.  It was the same kind of non-verbal, deeply intimate connection we had always had.

So it makes sense to me, to celebrate someone who you deeply love, yearly, even after they die.  It also makes sense that the celebration is a little different, because your connection to people after they die is different than before.  But I think they like having people who love them gather and laugh and think of them with love, and it's a good excuse to gather together with other friends and enjoy each other's company and maybe eat cake or something.  At the very least, death should remind us to live.

I make no guarantees about an afterlife   Who knows how the world works for sure?  How could you ever be certain of anything besides exactly what's in front of you right now.  But for myself, I'm not afraid of death, and, though I miss those that die, I don't grieve for them ceasing to exist, but for myself, and for the others who will miss them.

Death is harder on the living.  I don't want to die, but when I do, at least I won't have to live with it.

In either case, fill your life with love and things that matter deeply to you.  When it's your turn to die, how do you want to feel about your life?  Don't wait till you're old to think about that.

Never say Goodbye

Dan was my best friend in the whole fucking world.

Dan was closer to me than any other human being or animal or idea or anything I have ever interacted with.

If I was gay, or dan was a woman, I would have married him. A while ago too. As it is, he's a man and gay sex is icky to me, so I'm going to skip that image

Dan and I were different in a lot of ways, but in all the important one's it felt like we were brothers, twins, almost, no, not almost, two half's of one whole.

I think probably less than .00001% of people on earth ever have as intimate a relationship as me and dan had.

We were each others confidants.

I told dan, and dan told me, things that will never be spoken to anyone else.

We were each others guru's.

We moved along at the same pace, bootstrapping each others evolution. The flavors were sometimes different, but it was like woman syncing there periods when they work together for a long time. It always ended up that, as we talked, it turned out we were dealing with the same fundamental issue underlying things. Our views, while divergent enough superficially to give rise to debates, was fundamentally identical. We both grew exponentially faster, having each other there to help us.

Except for the last few months.

We were each others supports. When we couldn't talk to anyone else about something, we could talk to each other. Hell, Dan's girlfriend of several years was jelous of the depth of relationship we had.

It is so exeptionaly rare to find a soul that is so resonent. Both Dan and I knew it. This relationship was not normal, was not something you could expect from life. it was something of extreme value and rarity, and we both had ridiculous gratitude for it, from the very beginning and never abating.

I really hope Dan isn't my soul mate, because he's a guy and he's gone from physical manifestation. But I wouldn't be surprised at all if he was. I could be sad and bitter that I can't give him a hug or have a regular conversation with him any more,... and I guess I am. But frankly, the extreme gratitude for such a rare opportunity, is much stronger. The fact that I had any time with such a relationship is a pure and extreme miracle and blessing.

I love you dan. I love you so much. No one but you, me, God, and the few blessed lovers/brothers who have had such a relationship, will ever know how much.

Today I got all my birthday letters, because I was gone for 9 days, starting on my birthday on my survival trek: the culmination of my 8 month primitive skills apprenticeship program. It was an awakening and reminder that, despite how uncomfortable it can be, being cold, wet, hungry, I love living out in the wilderness, as part of the wilderness enough to justify the unpleasant aspects. Though I also know damn well that survival doesn't have to be a struggle or a pain, but can be pure luxury and joy and adventure. As tom brown says, "if primitive survival is uncomfortable, it just means you skills suck." In any case, I was reminded that, despite being rained on and quite cold and cramped, I'd sleep in a debrie hut any day over a bed inside, or even a sleeping bag. not because I'm trying to be cool or extream or have some idea about living sustainably, but because sleeping in something natural, made of natural materials, in tune with the local enviroment, made by myself, and being woken up by first light to sit outside my little human-nest and worship God as he rises in glory over the unspeaably beautiful landscape, is worth every bit of back strain, sleep deprivation, dirtyness and wetness. And it only gets more comfortable from here, because I am constantly learning and getting better.

Anyways, the point is, for whatever reason, today is an extraordinarily significant day. It is a day of death and rebirth.

One final note on this thing we call "death":

it's a crock of shit.

there is no such thing as death. it's a fairy-tail invented by someone or some people, to scare little children into eating there oatmeal. I've never seen a single death, only transformation. If you believe in an afterlife, then you agree with me.

Except 'afterlife' is a bad word for it, since it's still life.

If you don't belief in an afterlife, then it doesn't really matter anyways. we're all going to die and go out like a candle and we won't be around to think about how terrible it is that we don't exist anymore. The fear is totally irrational and can be dropped without any negative consequences at all: just try and live as good and joyful and satisfying a life as you can. Really, logically, that is the only answer on how to live, eather way. The only difference is that, as seems highly probable, there is is an 'after' life, there's not even any illogical reason to be anxious about leaving the body.

Dan didn't say goodbye. That bugged me. But I understood, soon after, why he didn't leave a note:

we are all eternal.

there are no real goodbye's.

So there's no purpose in saying something like that.

that's why I usually end with something like:

be seeing you.

Until then: I'm gonna miss the hell out of you, dan.

Time > money

here's one of the central questions for people interested creating a better world:

-the vast majority of people don't have time for the education required to explain to them why the system isn't working and give them the tools to change it.

-they also don't have the energy, for the same reason: they are spending there time energy and attention doing jobs that keep them alive: fed clothed and housed.

-and they are spending there free time distracting themselfs, rather than educating themselfs, because they are very unhappy and need something that will make them feel better, entertained, or at least distracted.

-and education is untrustworthy, since there are so many different viewpoints chattering all at once. Each makes it's case well, sounds believable, and contradicts some other viewpoint that also makes sense and presents it's case well.

people have there hands full, just looking out for themselfes and there familys.

Is this true?

I'm not sure.

How much does it really cost to live? there are lots of people who are not capable of the mental clarity nessisary to make a living, but most people are. If you cut out non-essentials, like internet, phone service, tv, eating expensive foods, good computers, good cars, or cars at all... I wonder if you'd still have your hands full, providing for yourself.

How much could I provide for myself?

I don't have to, so it's not tested, but what If I did have to? how successful would I be? food and shelter would motivate me, and staying connected with friends. But if I lived in fairfield, I wouldn't need to buy anything to stay connected to friends.

And I might not need to buy much, in the way of food, if I grew it myself.

I'd still probubly have to buy a fair bit, in the way of land and housing, and heating and electricity.

and buy clothes... but that could be cheap hand-me downs, if need be.

I would have to work. but how hard?

at first, probubly pretty hard. Setting up my garden, my house and land, but once I got the hang of it?

It might be ok then, since most of the work would be stuff I enjoy: being outside, doing physical labor, working with plants, building things, solving problems.

There is an over-quoted story, from my collage sustainable living department, that is nonetheless very significant: cultures like the bushmen of australia could well be considered the original affluent society, since they spend only a few hours a day, if that, taking care of there needs for food, shelter, water, etc. The rest of the time is spent as they want. Playing, learning. People are happy, smiling, healthy.

This is a Time Rich culture.

We have people here who are money-rich, but time poor. They spend all there life time working to make money so they can have useless crap that doesn't even make them happy. And the jobs make them miserable and cut them off from there families and real friends. This is not to say people who are money-poor are necessarily time rich. often they work just as hard or harder, in worse conditions. And these are the extremes of the situations, highlighted to show a point:

what is really worth selling your time for? Because selling your time is selling your life, and frankly my life is worth more than anyone can pay for. After meeting my essential needs, my time is going to be spend in the contemplation and pursuing of a life worth living. something full of love and joy and discovery and adventure. Something that feels deeply meaningful and right. I don't know what that looks like yet, but I'm working figuring that out like my life depends on it.

Because it does.

head in the sky, feet in the mud: A quiet Tree

I now understand where I may have gotten my feeling of not wanting to do any of the options offered: my dad (thanks malcolm!). He started off wanting to be a math professor, and then, in collage, realizing he wouldn't be able to be the best at it, thought, "what's the point, if I'm not going to be the best?" and went to law school. Finishing law school (at Harvard, no less) he realized, "hey, being a lawyer sucks." and went to the peace core. Which was fun, and got him some good shirts and a problem with spicy foods. And then finally he found a spiritual organization to be a part of, "ah, this is what I want. Get enlightened. Finally, something worth doing."

And that's basically where I landed, abit without the benefit of law school. Spiritual revelation has such a deep and powerful sense of meaning, that every worldly pursuit pales in comparison to the meaningfulness and return on investment in searching for God.

However...

The reason I got myself into all the nature skills I did, was I looked around me and saw a lot of ungrounded people. People who were afraid of living, and so lived in there heads, in there meditation halls, and only interacted with the world as much as necessary to maintain life support. And I saw I was one of those people, deeply one of those people, and I wanted out. Still for my same old reason of spiritual enlightenment, of course, but now that phrase had more significance. It meant something bigger. It meant Life. And that meant the really, truly scary thing, living, had to be faced. So I started facing it. It was scary as all hell and it hurt and I was really bad at following through with it. But I kept pushing, and eventually I looked back, and life was better, really, truly better, for my journey. And that is something that I couldn't say of all my mental-spiritual merry-go-rounds. Spiritual highs are wonderful, but they go. Life is what is left behind. So if you really want all the nice stuff talked about in spiritual circles, you need to bring the spirit to the earth. That is the whole point of this thing called 'enlightenment.'

I mean, reality is already reality, God is already Everything. If realizing that was enlightenment, then that would be a quick trip. What makes it a life long journey, and what makes that realization juicy, is living that reality.

That's what I'm working on now. And it may call for doing something other than 'spiritual' stuff.

I'm not sure whether that means I have to find something I'm passionate about, or if I have to find- oh, ok, I guess I do know, because it can't be that, and it must be more like finding the passionate part of myself. The part that cares, about life, about living. About doing stuff. Maybe I don't have to be passionate about it. maybe it's enough to just quietly love chopping the wood and carrying the water. That seems more doable.

There's a sign on my recycling bin, I didn't put it there, it says, "tree's love quietly." that's true of me, too.

Sometimes, I have sex with you, when your not looking.

sometimes I fall in love with someone from a few words, from the inflection of the voice, from an anecdote or two.

sometimes, my heart burns, literally burns in my chest, like it's on fire, like I'm on fire. Like tonight. I want to do something with this person. I want to have sex with them and marry them and be with them always. Right now. and I am blocked from doing so. and it burns like an inferno consuming me.

now, I've found at least the beginning of a solution. It started with me realizing that the one blocking me from having what I wanted was me, and by the same token, I could let myself have what I wanted. So now, when my heart burns and my spirit lusts for a dream of a girl I want utterly, I let myself have her, have it, and I make fabulous love with the patterns of light and feeling that are her body. It is desperate need fulfilled, and it feels a little bit like masturbation, in that I worry I won't pursue actual women, because if I want them I can just have them, immediately and unreservedly.

But that's not exactly how it works.

though it is partially.

I will no longer pursue woman based on a feeling of fundamental lack that I think they can fulfil. I will no longer pursue ideas of women that I have become infatuated with, taping paper masks to strangers faces and falling in love with my crudely drawn images.

Because those are things that they cannot give me, and they are things that I can give myself.

I'm not sure I can accurately describe the reason I would pursue women now. not because it is complex but because it is simple, too simple for words. Because i want to, because it is right.

I made deviled eggs today, and ate a few, and I just farted and it smelled like eggs.

also, later this evening, I made rice pudding.

this makes me very happy.

packing

tomorrow morning, back to seattle. pack my bags tonight. cloths washed. flight checked. large dinner, ate. I like lanterns haning from trees. I like lanterns, in general. it's a good asthetic. i love how I can just sit here and stare off into a black abyse, because of the archatecture: very open. I'll try and take a picture, tomorrow, and post it, when I get back.

I love having time to be in silence and escape the thoughts of the world. the thoughts of the world are the thoughts that are boring, tired, endlessly repeated, and not actualy thought out. some people live on this mind of the masses, thinking only other peoples thoughts, like recording devices, playing back what has been heard. It requires silence and will to sit with these records and slowly see and turn off the repeating backround radiation of collective thought, and allow my own personal melody to emerge. thinking for yourself.

this is how you find your life.

it's new years motherfucker

I like being able to swear. Thought I don't generaly like swearing. I realized something that bugs me, as being with family is apt to do: I hate being told or cajoled into doing things. It's one of the few things that still irritates me, is people trying to get me to do something. I don't know why it irritates me so much.

I think part of it is because I actualy feel like I have to do it. That is, I'm somewhat gullible, and guilty, and indifferent. If the right buttons are pushed, people can make me feel like I should do something, even when i know intellectualy it's a bad idea. I won't do it, but I will feel bad about not doing it like I'm somehow ungrateful or a bad person for not doing what other people tell me to do or expect of me. I'm sure this is a fairly ubiquitous aspect of the human condition, and I'm actualy less affected than many, probubly than most.

Still the feeling that I am being manipulated, or manipulation is being attempted, makes me livid, furious. Both with myself and other people too. Which is why brainwashing, of religious, spiritual, educational, political, or buisness orgin pisses me off so much. I get wrathful at subversive advertising, educating, indoctrinating, prosthelitizing.

It feels like a violation of our free will, of the very core of our humanity: our ability to think.

ha! an exaple from the line break above, when I got up to turn back off the porch light at the opulent palece I'm staying at: someone turned it on, without asking me, and left. they were not using this themselfs. It may have been the caterers, or it may have been a relitive. The thought that it was a relitive pisses me off. I can just hear the mothers voice in my head: "oh, don't you want more light here?" and then my response: NO, danmmit, I'm enjoying the stars, enjoying the darkness, the gentle glow from the pool lights, the soft glow of the horizon. NO I don't want the fucking lights on. (all that last bit just in my head) and then the cajoling, "oh, come on. are you sure? it's bad for your eyes you know...etc."

why is that so ungodly frusterating? why does it bug me so much to have someone else try to run my life? perhaps that sounds like a strange question, because of course it would piss you off to have someone try to run your life. but not so. there are people, there are cultures (india comes to mind) where that is expected. where it's unquestioned, accepted, perhaps even wanted. any thought you can think and belive, I'm sure you can find someone else who belived the opposite, or something opposite-like. It's all a thought, and that means it's all up for interpretation, belife or disbelife. everything everything everything. any thought you can think, even sensory perception. I'm reminded of some quotes from the matrix like, "you think that's air your breathing?" Anything you percieve in any way, vision, thought, feeling, belife. where is the inherent reality behind it?

you could go this way for a while, searching, and your world might fall apart, if the realizations sunk in. Or you could ask the ugly question: what's the point? I didn't ask the ugly question. I just went whole hog in search of something I could absolutly know is real. and frankly, eventualy, found it, to my satisfaction. But then there's nothing left to ask, but the ugly question.

However, the search changed me, and the finding eventualy mellowed me out, so it doesn't have such a discordant ring anymore. In fact, it even has an immediat answer for me.

"What's the point?"

"Whadday want it to be, sailor?"

you could even turn the question around on it's head, and ask what's the point of asking 'what's the point?'?

but in any case, the answer is very simple, as long as you've learned a little bit about not getting tangled up in the web of discursive thought. It's been said many ways, and I'll repeate some in a moment, but the iimportaint thing to note, as with most of the stuff I talk about here, is that hereing it doesn't do shit if it's not understood from experience. let me caps-lock this shit: YOU CAN'T SHORT CUT GROWTH BY HEARING/READING SOMETHING THAT SOUNDS NICE AND PRETENDING TO BELIVE IT. even if you convice yourself you belive it. You need to take the journey yourself. No shortcuts. No following someone elses path, because garunteed yours will be different, and if your trying to walk someone elses your not walking yours and thus your not going anywere. Those journeys only lead to one destination and that destination is the realizatioin that you've been walking in circuls, and then get out of that cul de sac.

Anyways. the answer. enjoy. be happy. follow your heart. those are some common phrases that denote this uncommon wisdom. If you don't have any false overlays on life and it's meaning, then the inherant meaning within you becomes obvious. there are things that you gravitate towards, that bring you joy and satisfaction, and things you move away from. What else does life boil down to? Live the life that makes your heart sing. Dance whatever dance you want to the music that's playing. If you don't like the music, try and change it. The point of the dance is the dance, the point of the game is the game. The point of beauty is beauty.

happy new year, according some random persons fancy. If this get's read on some other day than it was written, then I declair that day to be newyears as well, for you. so happy new years, still.

gtg, family dinner calling. will spell check later.

Cabo and Ho's

I'm in San Lucas, Cabo. Which is in Mexico. it's the southern dongle hanging off of california. I'm in a villa with family and extended family. It is really, really pretty. I should be lazy and just take some pictures rather than trying to describe it. Though honesty, that's more work right now, so I will briefly describe it: beautiful weather. 70's even at night, dipping down to maybe high fifty's last night when it rained (very unusual this time of year, or at all, I think.) The villa I'm in is built on the side of a cliff, with huge windows everywhere and open air spaces to take in the awesome view of sea and sky. The cave area which I occupy, at the bottom of the structure is built into the rock face, and they've left the beautiful rock that the cliff is made of, and worked around it, so it is the back wall. the front wall being glass and sea behond that. the architecture is nicely plastered concrete, arches, pillars, porches, a pool on the main balcony (small one) and vases and pots with plants in them. Rock or imitation rock floor.

The air is pure, fresh, teh sky is crystal clear or artistically cloudy. The whole thing feels so opulent it gives the sensation of lazy sex. Just lying around all day, being pleasured. I normally don't like expensive things, because they are so obviously ridiculous, and not worth a fraction of what they cost. In this case though, I am very happy to be able to inhabit what feels like a structure from my own personal fantasy. unfortunately I'm here with family instead of alone with a lover.

I just walked around the town below us, and it was predictably sad. not India sad, but the whole place was built around tourism. People wandering the streets, asking everyone if they wanted to buy random crappy souvenirs. And we, the tourists, are the enablers. Oh, and the "massage" parlors. I was suspicious of them, until I saw one with a sign that said something like, "NO SEXUAL massage parlor. Only actual massage" Then I was no longer suspicious, but confirmed. And while it was a little bit tempting, mexican women often being quite beautiful, mainly it was a downer; this was what tourism was doing, metaphorically, to the entire population. somehow modern civilization has convinced these people to sell their natural beauty, their lands natural beauty and bounty, for money. and now all they do is spend there time serving forginers. being maids, being waiters, being taxi drivers, being prostitutes. For what? For bare minimum sustenance in a toxic environment.

But, thinking about it, how is most of society different? we have that shittyness here in america too. we just have a bit less of it. And a lot of those rich tourists are spending their one week of the year here, only to go back to soul crushing, relationship killing work rutiens.

this is not the only possibility. but parts of it are almost omnipresent. And how happy are the rich people? generally, they live lives of quiet desperation just like the poor. They just have to try and distract themselves from it by other means, like buying new toys, etc, to keep from being alone and undistracted long enough to gaze into the empty meaningless hole that is there life. which would actually be a good thing, because maybe they would try and change that, and maybe, if they succeeded, they'd stop being so horrified of death.

I don't care how you do it, but if you are reading this, please strive to live a life that is full of real happiness, deep love, purpose and fulfillment. This is a selfish request, because it makes me very sad seeing people who have never lived. People who will have nothing to show, come their last day. People who have not even seen the incredible majesty and been humbled by the love and beauty surrounding them every second of every day. It makes me want to cry. It's like watching jesus, insane and amnesiatic, crawling around in the mud, the servant of violent animals.

How could you not cry, seeing this? God danmmit jesus, snap out of it!

I'm going to go stare off at the intoxicating horizon of night now. deep blue sea meeting a slightly lighter deep blue sky, with wisps of clouds lit by the almost full, dazzelingly bright moon, and the shimmering stars that tear my heart out with beauty like the best women do.

The beauty used to hurt, because I thought I was supposed to do something about it, and I was so inadequate to the task of reciprocating or even appreciating such overabundance.

bye for now. if any women in the area read this and want to have some opulent sex, drop me a line.
:D

-I Out

Nutshells

I love the simplistic.

How I am these days:

I am overwhelmed by the gifts of the universe. I am given more abundance than I could ever earn. And yet as far as my vision goes, my development is at the state of a baby. maybe a year old, still crapping myself. And I want more. Much much more.


What I want:

Very simply, I want to be successful in action. Not in an egoic, anger or fear motivated way, but in a non egoic, perhaps love motivated way. Success in action in this case means being able to start something, and stick with it to it's conclusion and success, or mastery, and fully enjoy the process of doing it.


Other notes:

there seems to be something wrong with my basic definition of successful action, that is too subtle for me to grasp at this moment, though I feel like I have understood it briefly and forgotten it, many times. However, the paradigm I have now is at odds with the wisdom, and so I cannot live the wisdom currently, nor can I even remember it, on command.

This seems to always be the case with wisdom that slips from my mind like fine sand in one's hands. I am not living the wisdom, and so realizations of the wisdom are momentary, not established. Eventually they are lived, and they don't have to be thought about or remembered.

The "wrong" thing is something fundamental, like my whole world-view is upside down.


I just recently realized that my main motivating belief for the last ten years is not true. It is, to try to put it into words: I need to work on my issues for them to go away.
This is an egoic way of trying to get enlightened. It served me well for ten years, but it is now a hindrance. Embedded in this belief is the world view that I am responsible for "making" myself enlightened. I do not know what comes next. But it will be free-er, closer to Truth.

the first loop of elaboration on surrender.

it is thanksgiving
it has been almost exactly a month since I had a big realization about control. From that surrender, all of a sudden, I started acting the way I wanted to be acting, for all my life. But not because I wanted to be acting that way any more. Just the opposite, it was because I was surrendered into what was, including entirely my normal behavior of being very quiet, inactive, and as I self debasingly refer to myself, "lazy." But soon after I realized I was starting to do all the things I'd always wanted to do, the ego took over and claimed ownership. Oh, look at me everyone: I'm finally shaping up like I always wanted to.

and then it went away, of course. And it took me nearly a month to come full circle, to realize what had happened, and what the original thing that was successful, was. This is what I'm talking about, with the cycles of forgetting and remembering. They seem to be an integral part of the spiritual journey. Which is, as far as I can tell, just the life journey, going through a specific phase.

A model that seems fairly accurate is: start in ignorance: everything is fine. Then, begin the downward slope that is leading to a spiritual break: something is not quite right. Finally snapping and beginning a very focused attempt to get out: everything is wrong. And eventually, an upward climb again: everything is good. Or at least some things are good, and the good increases.

what time is it?

I often find myself asking that question, as of late.

Not at all related to the time that a clock would say if I looked at it.
Not related to anything, consciously.
It's like a nervous tick, like saying "now where was I?" as someone wanders about the house, aimlessly.

Though I do sometimes expect an answer, something revelatory and unexpected, like: "It's Now," "A hair past a freckle," or "Naikkie Time!"
but mainly, the answer that I always give, if I give myself an answer is something along the lines of
"Time to die."

though not always in words, sometimes just a subtle feeling of that meaning.

This has been going on for a while. at least a month and a half. I've been carrying my will around in my pocket. I've been trying to understand, viscerally, my death. It was very useful, contemplating what I would write, in my will. It made me think of death, think of what was truly important in my life.

: your going to die. so, what really matters? what will you regret not having done? what parts of your life will you look back and consider wasted, trivial? what parts will make you able to die without regrets?

People who have serious near death experiences often have, for a short time, a new found appreciation for life. "I love the fact of my death; it has made my life possible" is a quote I find apt.

I'll tell you what I discovered, looking at my death: I love the world. I love life, and I would be sad to leave it, because I want to love it more. If there is one regret in my life it is the love I have not given.

that's it.

it's a very short will. Just a about a half a page. getting pretty beaten up, now.

here's the thing: I don't even know how to give the love, express the gratitude, that I want to.

HAH!

Ok, here's why: because I'm trying.
and, as Stalking Wolf would say, the act of trying negates itself.
It's sad to say for my ego, my little needy mind with its long, thin grasping fingers and beady little eyes has been a complete failure at accomplishing anything I ever wanted it too. It just doesn't do the job.
However, there is a different configuration of mind, one that is bigger, harder to pin down, not worried, relaxed, that does things very, very well. I can't control it, but what it does, it does well.

So, when my epic fail mind tries to express gratitude, it fails. This is the way most people function.
But when my Bigger mind is allowed to be, it flows love and gratitude just fine.

Frankly, it looks like all that was wrong was a thought that kept saying, "no, you can't express gratitude, you can't love things enough!" And the associated emotional knot, the root-stock of the thought.

Some variation of this is the answer to all problems I've ever had. And, along with the often intensive and time consuming work of releasing the emotional knot, it actually, amazingly, results in life-long change. That is, to whatever extent I honestly deal with that issue, it's got that much less emotional charge, forever.

And that's why this journey is my life, my obsession: because I like being free. distracting yourself, any of the million subtle or obvious ways we do, from this process, or from the pain which is the locater beacon of where to start this process, will result in temporary alleviation from the pain, but it will keep coming back, as strong as before or stronger, until the day you die.

The extent this journey is taken is the extent to which we are free, alive, and fulfilled. Each person's journey is highly personal. And the stage of the journey I am at right now is that of becoming aware of forward movement on the path, and how it happens. Some things seem to bring progress, some things seem to bring stagnation. Getting clear on which is which seems like a good idea. As this process become clearer, it becomes quicker, which means less time necessary for dealing with the locater beacons: suffering. which means, a happier life.

is this true? find out for yourself. there is no other way. nor need there be. everything on my path has eventually proved self-validating. Though I have been supported and helped tremendously, all along the path. You can always expect help from nature on this path. that is something I've come to rely on, because it has never let me down, nor anyone I know. Sometimes it puts you through hell first, though.

Nov 12th, update

well, here I am. Just got back from a cross country flight, from sea-tac in Seattle to the New Jersey pine barrens, to learn herbal compounding and mixing from Tom Brown jr. It was an awesome class, we learned some powerful techniques and info, and it was really really nice, to be with family again, which this group of people has become. That's because this was a series class, meaning we had met three times before already, throughout the year, doing homework in between.

I got myself a job working at the TM-Center, doing mindless pencil-pushing tasks for a day or two a week. Which is great. Something I can focus on to ground me, doesn't take up too much time, doesn't require any commute, and I even get paid a little.

Tomorrow I'm heading out to a Survival Techniques class with the Sherwoods (they run primitive skills school I'm doing) for the weekend, and from that going directly to a nearby beach for monday and tuesday to learn clamming, archery practice, and maybe making a bow and arrow hand-guard.

I'm a bit behind: I still need to go out and buy a few odd and ends for the trip, pack, finish my pencil pushing, and do laundry (which I really, really need to do. There's no laundry machine in the house though, so I have to go out to a coin laundromat down the street.)

So feeling a bit worried, as is my habit before almost all trips. This last trip though, I didn't feel that worried. Perhaps I am finally, finally seeing the other side of this deep seated fear. Fear of forgetting, something, I think. Linked with my general fear of doing something wrong. Of wrongness in general.

I remember, back in the first two years of collage, when I was really going at the spiritual enlightenment thing as hard and fast as I could, I would get these intense feelings of wrongness. Like my heart was just screaming at me that something was wrong, that I was doing something wrong. And it would really bother me, because I could never figure out what is was, that was wrong. I think it may have been a slightly bad interpretation on my part. I don't think it was so much that my heart was telling me I was doing something wrong, but it was trying to tell me something, period, and I wasn't able to listen, didn't know how.

I'm still not really sure what to do with those "chest bursters" as I call them, but now when I feel them, I just give myself some time to pay attention to them, and try to listen, understand what they want to communicate. What I want to communicate, to myself. right (or whole) brain to left brain.

Last night I had one, and eventual got that it was answering a question I had, about my sadness at not being as strongly disciplined and persevering as I would like. The reason I am that way is that I get discouraged, because my efforts don't seem well linked to my results, in the short run. I practice something, and I see myself getting better, quickly, and then it slows and maybe even stops, and I get upset and worry that I'm just wasting my time doing something that's not actually going to get me anywhere, make me any better at whatever it is I'm doing. Music, creating, writing, exercise.

Now I've got to ask the question of how to heal that.

Ok, done (for now)