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.

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.

will I make it in time?

home internet crapped out. sitting in my car in front of a "free wireless" coffee shop, and my battery may or may not be at... 20%

It's impossible to shake the feeling of gratitude I've been feeling lately. Literally impossible. and that must be because, like all things that are unshakable, it is because it has always been there, and I am simply becoming aware of it.

for many years I was seeking enlightenment, and I kept having nice experiences, and going, "holy shit! I just want that to stay, and that's fucking enlightenment! Permanent super-happy consciousness. But listen people, that's not how it works. You don't get to keep the super happy experiences forever. They are experiences, and the all come and go. That which is abiding, that which will not go away, is that which is already here.


This gratitude thing is bigger than me. Literally, it feels like isaac is a teeny little speck, floating on this immense whitewater river of grati-

(and that's when the computer went into standby. This never got sent, for... about a month. wrote it back in October. well, here it is. there are a few more like this. Perhaps I'll space them out, until or unless I write something new.)

I suppose I should

give some information that is actually relevant to this place/time, for those of you interested in and expectant of such things from a now public blog...

That's tricky though, because I think this blog will be most interesting and fun if I just pretend no one else is going to read it. No longer possible, I suppose. Just be warned: if you are someone who gets offended, ever, you might not want to read my uncensored thoughts.

I'm going to Seattle, except I already went. I don't keep this blog very regularly, you see.

I'm going, or wenting, to be a part of a wilderness skills school called Earthwalk Northwest. I'm doing the Apprenticeship program for a year. But not the whole year. The program is only two days out of the week, until somewhere around April-May, when it will go up to three days a week, and then, in June, down to one day a week, until October, when it all ends.

I'm getting ahead of myself. I don't want to make this long, because it's not particularly interesting for me, because I've already done it, but people are curious about the road trip.

Three days of driving, one day in the middle of r&r at my uncles awesome mountain hideaway in Montana. 2300 miles.

Nature and friends supplied me with a driving buddy. Austin Trout, who was going back to school in Olympia and needed a ride out.

Austin is tall, blond, bearded, with a laid-back demeanor and soft deep voice that is misleadingly relaxing. Like surfer dudes, that seem chill until they're out on the sea, paddling like mad to catch a wave that has a 30% chance of killing them.

The first day was short and uneventful. We talked, ate from our comfortingly excessive food supply of fruit, almond butter, granola, nuts, and healthfood candy bars. We slept at a campground right outside the Badlands, and the next morning, drove through them, watching the sunrise.



Shit, blogger is being an asshole with formatting. DAMN you computers, stealing my time, my very life.

Anyways, then we stopped by devils tower

very briefly, and drove on until about 11:00pm, to arrive at my uncles permiculture homestead/ranch/spiritual retreat. I would have stayed longer probably, but Austin was keen to get back, and I didn't care that much either way. I'm definitly coming back for a longer stay though. It seems like a perfect place to write a lot or be creative in some way. No people around to distract, and plenty of nature to inspire and energize.

Wish I had some interior shots.

I love mountain homes. I love being comfortable while storms rage just outside of large scenic windows. I love the feeling of being hidden above the world, secluded and safe. I like high places, with views that give you vertigo, make you aware of how small you are and how big the universe gets, and what the earth would look like while flying. And I love being surrounded by rocks to play with and admire. A piece of broken, purple slate with mica in it, sparkling in the sun, is just as precious and beautiful to me as rubies or diamonds. I like talking to rocks. Feeling them and getting to know there personalities. And if they're really shiny, fantasizing about chewing and eating them like candy. I think Jung said that means you want to assimilate something into yourself. I guess I need more Rock in my life, as well as Funk.

That day traveling to my uncles house was a great sunset.








Also, I think we briefly drove through Wall Town after the Badlands, looking halfheartedly for the dinosaurs and feeling like dirty tourists, which, of course, we were. Austin had mentioned that he had trouble being patient, and wanted to get back to Olympia, so we did precious little stopping.

My preference is to do a few things, but do them well. Otherwise it's just tourism, driving all over the place and snapping pictures like it's some kind of treasure hunt or status symbol, "look, here's a picture of a bunch of places you've already seen, but with my ugly mug stamped in front of it. VALIDATE MEEEEEEeeee!" Ahem. To each his own.

Really I just don't like driving, so if I'm going to go somewhere, it had better have a big payoff. Since I'm so easy to please in terms of scenic scenes (I was mesmerized for a half hour by a daddy long legs extracting it's self from it's old exoskeleton (and by the way they are NOT poisonous! Check Snopes before you believe weird things people tell you.)) scenic scenery is almost never a good reason to go traveling for me.

However, apparently traveling is an excellent way for the universe to show me where my uncomfortable spots are, so it's always finding excuses to get me on the road.

The next day we took a long route by Mount Rainer. That was gorgeous. I crashed at Austins place for the night, and arrived at the TM center the next morning. Been here ever since. More as time allows (pictures make everything take longer)