Rebirth of the Earth / The Burren and the Hare

The benefits of travelling in the off-season: you've got the whole place to yourself, and if there's magic to be had - it's yours.

We were driving through the Burren, south of Galway in the west of Ireland, the first day of the world, after visiting my Mom's grave in Spiddal on the last. We pulled over randomley, shocked and lured by the stark raw beauty of a hillside, and we got out and wandered.

Ireland welcomed us into a sacred landscape. There was a snippet of a poem on a brochure with a great map, which we mysteriously lost, which summed it up;.. "in the west, I find my soul.." or something like that. It is apparently un-google-able (and I know from experience that some of the poems I've quoted here are only available online in this blog, because people come to me by them, and so I assume there are lots of poems not yet online). A Quest, it is..

The rain and mist, raw rocks, fractured soul of Ireland: all one piece underneath. It is a landscape of limestone karst - fields of limestone, flat, and broken into rectangles and decorated by the hands of man with a web of one-stone-wide stone walls..

And - monuments. To what? Unknown. We saw a Hare close to a Dolmen (the Poulnabroun) and it hopped off towards a pit. The pit had apparently been a cave system, associated with the Dolmen, which collapsed in the past. We found a little hole that clearly was part of a still-existent cave (because you could feel air moving within).

Down the rabbit-hole.. into another world. When I looked it up - the Hare is associated with Dolmens in Druidry, as both are representative of rebirth.

The trip spelled rebirth for me - I didn't realize how much I was drowning - in worries and stresses and misaligned dreams. In the time away the sun rose on a new day, and the future is again sparkling with possibility and the faerie-dust of the unknown...

Thank you, Ireland.

the end is near

this blog has no clear subject matter or order.

This is the end
My only friend, the end

Driver, where you taken' us 

God speaks to each of us when he makes us,
then walks with us silently out of the night.

These are the words we dimly hear:

You, sent out beyond your recall,
go to the limits of your longing.
Embody me.

Flare up like a flame
and make big shadows I can move in.

Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror.
Just keep going. No feeling is final.
Don't let yourself lose me.

Nearby is the country they call life.
You will know it by its seriousness.

Give me your hand.,

Rilke

I'm realizing that what I refer to as my 'wildness' - the need/desire to always be on the move, challenged, travelling - is a sort of biological drive-depression, and many of my close friends suffer/are blessed from it as well.

It is a kind of depression, and I remember this really sweet, hot, brilliant woman (I loved before) saying - "you and me are the same, but I take drugs for it, and you don't." It's true. Instead - I live in four provinces and 8 towns/cities in a five year period, have three careers in that time, and fall in love almost every day. 

"our heartbeat".

A friend told me about some dudes he knew years ago on the waterfront in Calgary, they said, broken-toothed and black-eyed - "we like to get drunk and fight." He said, "no shit." It's not that I think I'm going to save the world, it's that I like it. I like to fight. And this fight is the prettiest with the worst odds. So it seemed like a good way to spend my life. Life is fundamentally meaningless, but yet - I have not forgotten you.

"I don't give a fuck about hockey."

Considering: A - I am flying to Ireland on Friday, and B - the world is ending (and a new world of sharing/"communitarianism" is coming into being) only six days later (Dec. 21, 2012), I will quote the hot English chick from Snatch (at the bookey's) = "All. Bets. Are. Off."

Life requires a certain mercilessness, always. To throw out the old, or "going-to-be-old-any-day-now" and make room for the new. 

Every day, I'm dumpin' the bodies.


“The twenty-first of December 2012 is the end of selfishness, of division. The twenty-first of December has to be the end of Coca-Cola and the beginning of mocochinche (a local peach-flavored soft drink). “The planets will line up after 26,000 years. It is the end of capitalism and the beginning of communitarianism.”

Life on Earth (the cloud people)

In the autumn night
when there's no wind blowin'
I could hear the stars falling in the dark

... when confronted with a decision, or a fork in the road in life, sometimes I get tangled up in what's around me - a person, a place, a job. But sometimes - I fly up, way up, among the clouds, and look down on the world, and think - why am I here - what is the purpose of my life here on Earth? From that view, everything is clear..

Lately I've been encountering the most beautiful people, truly exceptional human beings, just so clear - like mountain streams in spring. I'm not talking physically beautiful (although often) and I'm not talking worldly-successful (although, again - often - at what they've chosen), but I'm talking CLEAR - people who seem more like spirits, just walking around in skins - they are kind, warm, open, patient, understanding, gracious - and 'of their own'. Humble.

Supposedly the things you notice in others - that make you angry, or attract you - are things in yourself that you are either denying exist, or are moving towards. I started noticing clarity in others a few years ago, and find I'm more and more drawn to it.

I was going to go to Mexico/Gautemala.. for the "end of the world" (not that I really think it's going to end, but I'm kinda hoping it might begin..) this is the trip I was contemplating in The Wanderer. It just started to feel wrong - there was an element of ego to it, and it was stressing me financially, and I've again had to re-contemplate my role in life and where I am, and why. So I dropped it, "let go."

I was just getting busy creating plans and accepting that I'd be home for the Holidays, and then something new came to fill the space - turns out I'll be in Ireland for the 'end of the world'. As I said to my brother, I "will go see Mom, and celebrate the turning of the ages where our ancestors did 2600 years ago." In fact, it's 2460 years. It is the end of an age and the beginning of another. No big deal - but a fucking awesome time to be alive. I feel like this is the most amazing period of flux and change and opportunity to shape the future - that we have seen in a long time..

We all have our chance to be part of it.. And I guess that's the sixth way I could define why I live the life I do - to be "part of it."

One of these cloud people reminded me lately that .. we are the total investment of all of our ancestors. Why would I go to Mexico, other than 'it's cool' - when I can be with my blood - a place where my blood runs in the ground? Where my ancestors fought, died, and made me (the fun way)?

I keep writing this blog because I assume there are other people out there going through the same shit I'm going through: reaching for the stars, lookin for a place to stand, taking a stand, hoping for a break, always - an eye on a distant star. Otherwise known as the Rainbow Warriors - one by one, through the mists - you are revealing yourselves. To those who haven't yet - I am looking for you.

Talk to the spirits
Talk to the wind

Ceremony 

Ceremony ..

.. of the Cloud People

the Wanderer

Rob's grandfather stormed in and grabbed the little boat out of my hands, "Jesus, mumble, boy, you're gonna cut your hands off.. "

It was the most words I had ever heard Mr. H string together. I'll admit to having been intimidated. I was probably seven years old. I had gone into his workshop to make myself a wooden boat, and had nailed two pieces of wood together - a flat one with a block on top. When he came in I was busily chopping a prow into the front of the flat piece with a hatchet.

I held firm despite my fear, and made it clear that I was going to make my own boat, thank you very much. I think he helped a bit, but I was being so stubborn and difficult he eventually left, with a grumble, to let me cut my hand off if I really wanted to.

I later took the boat to Long Pond with my brother and Mother, and floated it around with a little string tied to it.

Later that summer, at the Dingle one day, a little park on the edge of Halifax, we were at the beach, and I ran to the car to get my boat. Not sure when I named it "the Wanderer," and I think it was my brother's idea, but I know it had been christened by this point.

Aug (what I called my brother back then) floated some proper toy boat, and I floated the Wanderer around. On a string, at first. And then - not.

Mom warned me - "you're gonna lose your boat, Paddy." But I said it would be fine. The Dingle is on "the Arm", a small harbour on the other side of the Halifax peninsula. It opens into the North Atlantic. The tide went out. I could see my boat going, and I ran to get it, but ultimately all I could do was watch it float away. I'm sure Mom thought I'd get over it (and never dreamed I'd be writing a blog about it thirty-three years later).

Two years later, when I was eight or nine, I was walking on the other side of the Arm with my brother and Dad, at dusk one night, at the seashore property of one of Dad's customers (Mrs. Read?), and there, tangled in the seaweed and flotsam, was my boat. It was a little battered, but otherwise fine. The Wanderer.

I took it home, and it turned up now and again over the years, here and there. Each reappearance was meaningful to me, like no matter how far I strayed, I would always return 'home.'

I dreamed about it last night - that I found it again.

I started a comic/graphic novel years ago, in my teens, about a character called the Wanderer - sort of a less personal version of what this blog has become.

I'm preparing for a trip soon - to somewhere I've never been. Not a long one, but it always freaks me out a bit how I seem to come alive once travel is on the docket, like a dog that just loves the car - I don't really care where I'm going or for how long - as soon as someone says "road trip" - I say, "I'm ready." And everything in my life starts to align, like metal filings around an electro-magnet, which has just been turned on.

That character, I always draw him the same, has a particular jacket. I found it two weeks ago at a second hand store in Port A, for $4.50. Finding it kinda freaked me out a bit.

It's funny though, to have a back door. Hiking Sulphur Mountain, near Banff, in 2008 with an Ozzy pal, I said I always kept my passport on me, in case I decided to bail out. He stopped, in the snow, and looked back at me and said "dark."  Is it? I never felt that way. Every darkness has a seed of light, and light the seed of darkness - sometimes I can't tell them apart anymore.

All you've found is another back door
...
Take the heart of the travelling band
You'll never understand that
All they know ... is the yellow line

Dreaming about the Wanderer last night kinda freaked me out a bit - what part of myself am I finding or about to find?

For ancient and indigenous shamans, the chief cause of many of our complaints – fatigue, low energy, excessive vulnerability to illness and allergies – is soul loss. The understanding is that in any human life, we may lose part of our vital energy and identity through pain or grief, shame or abuse or wrenching life choices. The cure is to try to find that missing piece and bring it back and put it where it belongs. 
     For me, soul recovery is central to healing. In order to be whole and able to operate with the best and brightest parts of our beings, we may need to recover parts of ourselves that have gone missing. While we can look to a shamanic practitioner – if we can find a reliable and responsible one – to assist us through the operation known as soul retrieval, it may be safer and more empowering to learn the techniques that will enable us to be self-healers and shamans for our own family of selves.
    Our dreams offer us roads to soul recovery.
  ...
    Soul recovery, in the fullest sense, is not only about reclaiming our younger selves. It is about meeting and integrating all our personality aspects, including as much of the energy and insight of the larger or higher Self as we can manage to contain at this stage in our life journey.

I've mentioned before that I've always felt like, when it was time to travel, part of my soul would go wait by the road, for me to catch up with it. And until then - I was not whole. I've made him wait for years, at times. Or not.. ;) The character that I drew, with the jacket - is my image of that layer of my soul.

That force, the "Wanderer" energy, I both love and fear, because while I can call on it - it can also call on me, simply by walking out to the road. The "home" that I knew the Wanderer would always come back to, and this is what reassured me about its reappearances through my youth, and even into my twenties, although I couldn't have articulated it this way - is me.

Yeah I left with nothing
But the thought you'd be there too
Looking for you

Yeah I left with nothing
Nothing but the thought of you

I went wandering

secret 5

A friend texted me the other day and said she had decided to change her career path to do something more true to her dreams, and said - that I had inspired her to do that! I was floored.
I almost felt like, "fuck it, I can go live in the woods - I set out to make the world a better place, my work here is done."

It inspired me instead to make these notes at work (and yeah, I know - wasn't I done blogging? apparently not - now you can't shut me up..)

Follow your dreams at any cost
it is only the resolve to do so - at any cost, that it comes to life, 
like Frankenstein monster - our endeavors are lifeless lumps - until we breathe life into them
and it is the resolution,
"I will do this at any cost"
that is the breath of life

The Journey 
- all journey's 
         are one
  - the Journey to ourself.

Here, we find everything.

My brother has been my inspiration lately, and I know he knows exactly what I'm talking about.

And how did that text lead me to think of this? It is because it is that resolve, and only that, which has lead me to where I am. AND, like other things, events, actions, in my life - I don't know where it came from, it seems like something almost outside of myself. Again, I challenge "the Secret" rationale - that we can do anything we 'intention', or set our intention to.. Yes - I am here in life because I resolved to be so at any cost. 

But I could not have resolved any other.

I'll quote a previous entry:

"My effort here is to help you become one. That's why I don't teach any morality, any character. All that I can teach is meditation, so that you can hear your inner voice more clearly and follow it, whatsoever the cost.

Whatsoever the cost. Hm. But the benefit is being natural, being yourself, not being divided. Once we are not divided inside ourselves, I'm not sure if the Bhagwan follows it to this point or not - how can we be divided from others?"

I will add to that - how can we be divided from anything?

That resolution, which has seen me through many trials, fears, and doubts - doesn't feel like part of me, but like a mountain I stood upon, and it reminds me - there is no separation between ourselves and the Universe, the World around us. And, our 'selves,' and even the concept of our 'selves' is a paradox - utterly true (and worth reaching for), and a shameful illusion (to be released). 

The secret to the Secret is - the only intentions we can make come true - are one's the Universe has already set, and we set in tune with it, and one's we set, and the Universe sets in tune with us ;)

My work-time writing also gave me an insight into why I write, and still write, this blog,

- all journey's 
         are one
  - the Journey to ourself.

Here, we find everything.

Watch the sunrise
Say your goodbyes
Off we go
Some conversation
No contemplation
Hit the road

waking the divine forest

walking in the forest today with friends, we left our return too late, and ended up walking back in the twilight and near darkness.: my favourite mistake...

I ended up thinking - if I had choose only being in the forest at night, or day, which would I choose?

An eagle, settling in for sleep high in a spruce by the trail, screeched at us, and we stopped. My friends were confused, "what is that, an eagle?" I said (to it), "it's ok brother, have a good sleep." And he/she stopped, watched us silently, suspiciously, until we walked on in silence. 

All nature is one temple, the living aisles whereof
Murmur in a soft language, half strange, half understood;
Man wanders there as through a cabalistic wood,
Aware of eyes that watch him in the leaves above.

Like voices echoing in his senses from beyond
Life's watery source, and which into one voice unite,
Vast as the turning planet clothed in darkness and light,
So do all sounds and hues and fragrances correspond.

A friend did an astrology reading for me yesterday. She said I should make my life a fervent prayer. I felt like that's what I've been up to these last two years.. And to find balance in action, and my divine whore/vestal virgin (sacred sex), and - that my focus should be law/higher learning, and travel. No shit.. And - reminded me of the Chariot - my 'life path' - yoking the forces of darkness and light..

This forest is inside of us, me - wild, free, lawless-leaving-only-the-divine law. All is real and unknown.

Well, I dreamed of the Lofty Pines-
at least what I thought they were-
standing in the forest after nighttime,
swaying so cool and sure...

I find all that in nature, it is a divine prayer. I just find it so peaceful to be in the woods at night, so relaxing. I grabbed a little time alone with a pee break as an excuse. My prayer is to live, live, live - live what and who I am. To its completion.

Q: where does one begin the search for spiritual truth self-realization called enlightenment?
A: It is simple. Begin with who and what you are. All truth is found within.

For me - it began in the forest. Where it will probably one day end.

running

heart pounding

lit eyes sheltered

I am awake in this darkness

Sacred Life: all will be revealed...

A couple procedural items; 1 - I thought I was done this blog, or at least I wondered, 2 - I am definitely planning a new blog, or to go completely public with this one, at some point probably later this year, 3 - I guess I'm not done.

I printed some entries for a special friend to see her off on a journey, and the first printing goofed, so I kept it. It's been weird to re-read on paper some of the turning points, big and small, of my life of the last few years. 

One of the things I love about having a blog - it's a public commitment to who you are. In re-reading I've realized a few things, themes:

- Sailing! Yikes. It's come up in people I've spent time with, and all over my writing, I hadn't really noticed how prevalent it is.. I said in my very first entry "I can take a hint!" - can I? Why haven't I learned to sail yet? 

Oh, father of the four winds, fill my sails, across the sea of years

With no provision but an open face..

Another, and this has been a developing theme - is the sacredness of life. Our lives.  That life is essentially miraculous. The mundane is only an illusion. That's what all the coincidences have been about and the truth they've led me to. On the way back from a no-pipeline rally in Victoria on Monday we were listening to cbc radio, and this show came on about belving - making stag mating calls to attract deer.. and we all made fun of it. I woke up last night (Tuesday) around 4 or 5 am, not sure why, and then, right outside my window, loud and clear, a friggin deer - bbrr--rr-r--r--rrr!!, or however you spell that...

I'll continue an entry - Irish Faerie..
   - when I got to the ferry terminal in Dun Loaghaire (DunLeary) I was hungry, so I dropped my backpack in front of this older lady, asked her to watch it, and wandered off for some french fries before she could answer. When I got back she looked at me like I was the boldest person ever, and she scolded me for leaving my bag with someone I'd never met. I offered her some fries, and after we chatted for a few minutes she offered me a lift from the ferry terminal at Holyhead, in Wales, to a small town half way to London. My flight left from Gatwick the next evening. 

Despite my willingness to sleep outdoors, it was dark when we got to her town and she offered me her son's bedroom. He was a diplomat with the UK. She had proud pictures on the mantle, as she should have. I was glad for it because I was pretty tired from 'testing fate' all day..
She made me a nice breakfast, dropped me off at the highway, and I wish I could remember her name. I send my thanks regardless. I got a ride or two and got dropped off at a truck stop. I was making good time, but there was still some risk of missing my plane if things didn't go well, for instance - if I ended up somewhere with a lot of other people waiting for rides...

At the truck stop there were a bunch of punks hitching, they were in a couple groups of three or four. You couldn't walk or hitch-hike on the highway. They had a few dogs, and looked surly and unfriendly. Particularly at me: the competition. 

We Canucks do things differently.  It would be quite some time before they all cleared out, I realized. Instead of skulking away or pulling some hard line, I walked up to a group with an orange-haired dude, who looked 'leaderish', and asked how how the hitching was. They looked at me like I had three heads, they had never seen someone, it seemed, simply be friendly and upfront with them before..

I chatted for a minute about my trip and before they could rally their senses and re-raise the mask of aggression, I said, "well, you guys were here first, so good luck, I'm kinda hungry, so I'm gonna go sit on that hill and have a snack while I wait for you to get a ride.."

You see, it's a rule of hitch-hiking - you don't usurp someone else's spot. You go behind whoever's there first, or you wait somewhere until they get picked up. It's about order! ;)

I hadn't sat down five minutes when the orange haired dude came running over to me in his studded leather jacket and dock marten boots, and told me there was a guy going right where I was - to Gatwick. I thought, "wtf? I haven't even finished my rye bread and sardines.." The funniest part was, and the most reflective of something else, something.. sacred  - someone stopped for the mean tough punks, and they gifted the ride to me..

The guy was about my age, in an old beamer, and was going to pick up his girlfriend at the airport, so I thanked the punks and off I went - to my destination with time to spare. Why? Because I had a loose grip on life, I wasn't trying to control anything..

I ended my first entry with, and a new friend / fellow blogger reflected it back at me recently; "Let's not be afraid to be the best we have inside ourselves. And let's not hide it away."

I've always been sensitive about my being sensitive, and the fact that I wear my heart on my sleeve. It has not generally served me well in romance, and I've come to view it over the years as being pretty un-sexy. I've had girlfriends tell me, "girls don't like that." I can now safely say - I don't wanna go out with those girls.

I can see I'm still on a 'journey,' and another theme of this blog, and my life, has been 'letting go.' I've had lots of friends counsel me over the last few years, as I waded through relationship problems or plain singleness - to be more of a player. They didn't use that word, but you know - 'don't tell people how you feel, don't show your hand,' etc. And I think I wrestled with it, trying to be me, and at the same time - feeling like I was doing things wrong in some way, that I could 'improve.' I'm not. One of my first entries was partially titled, "I Am That." Well, I am not that. Not good at it, not interested in it.

40. A nice solid number. I feel pretty solid. I think the whole reason women found me un-sexy when I was like that was because I thought I was, I was insecure about it. I'm seeing myself in a whole new light. The woman in my life, in my future, will be one who says, "a guy who actually waits for someone, uninvited, just on principle and to be true to himself (and whatever potential is there)? wow, now that's sexy."

It's part of the sacredness of life, for me. I work a lot these days, and it's also been funny to see (in reading over those old entries) how much I partied and goofed off in those journey-times. These days I enjoy simpler pleasures. The waitee -  that doesn't even know I'm doing that, we just recently connected and never had a chance to discuss it..

Why? Life is sacred. If you want a certain life, you have to take the steps that can get you there. These two entries, this and Irish Faerie - describe the end of a month long hitch-hiking trip through Europe in 1994(?). I've written about it in detail because - every step I took, I took in faith, perfect faith - that it would all work out, somehow, as it was supposed to. 
And - I knew I'd be fine regardless. I've been applying that to other parts of life lately, to more of life, like I said in Return of the Errand Knight (travels in a luminous world), regarding my penchant for walking around in the dark, "if you just put your foot out, the ground'll show up eventually.." (paraphrased;) = Trust.

I know that the only way to get to the point I want romantically is to treat all matters of the heart as sacred, and, just like my ferry that was two and a half hours late, and magical rides to the airport, it will work out somehow - I don't need to know how. I'm waiting for someone I barely know (but am certainly interested in getting to know better), but more importantly, it is the act of waiting, which is in accord with my deepest sense of who I am - that will ultimately deliver whatever it is meant to deliver. And just like the question of whether I'd stay and live in Ireland, or come back to Canada - all will be revealed..

I've spent over two years now building my dynamic life of adventure and service, and maybe one day it'll be ready to share. In this time off blogging, and part of the reason I'm back, I realized I'm certainly not done travelling, and that I want a retreat too, however humble. Someplace that's mine to return to. And - I want someone to share it all with.

For now - I'm sitting on a grassy knoll eating some rye bread and sardines, waiting for the wheels of fate I've put in motion to come around..

I am a traveler of both time and space, to be where I have been

To sit with elders of the gentle race, this world has seldom seen

They talk of days for which they sit and wait, all will be revealed...

Finito, Home.

Driving home tonight, across the Island, I turned my lights off for a while, just to feel my way along - letting myself be drawn to my destination, as if by gravity. I like driving at night.

I got a ticket for my destination, I am, homeward bound..

Remember the good old days when I used to brag about being homeless? It was fun. It'll be a year this weekend I've lived here, the longest I've lived in any one town or city since 2007. And I'm not leaving any time soon..

To joke about being homeless, and "I can leave when I want to.. " would be.. just pretentious. I can't leave. I got a ticket for my destination.

My 'homeless' experiment is Finito, for now - I am at the end of the road, end of the trans-Canada highway, end of the Continent, home to all those who took the adage, "go west, young (at heart) person" - a little too seriously.

Go to the limit of your dreams. Find yourself, at the end of your own road.

I think we fear going to the end, because we don't know or can't control what comes after that, so it's easier to wade around in the middle. I think at the end, one day under a tree, is the seed of your next road, your next dream. My life here: life-rich, great friendships, a place to serve, work of meaning and value that tests me every day, single - I come home to a book and talking to the Universe, and I come home when I want - is peaceful and dynamic - I am happy. For now my wandering is done.

I quoted this song to a lover, before in this blog, now I will quote it to the Universe, Nature, You all, God, my Self:

I'm really close tonight
And I feel like I'm moving inside her
Lying in the dark
And I think that I'm beginning to know her
Let it go
I'll be there when you call
...
And I'm more than willing to offer myself
Do you want my presence or need my help
Who knows where that might lead
I fall ... 

... at your feet.

Finito.

Howling wind, shining stars

Have you noticed the wind howling lately? We've all been through our Summer of Trials. Be ready for change. Haiti is being hit by a hurricane, the Okanagan by hail. Me?.. nevermind

Outside the stars are shining, like nails in the night. Pick your star, tune your compass, the world is changing.. Where are you going? What does "turn your ship into the wind" mean?

Change is coming to our world, and to each of us, commanding, commending, us all - to live our real lives. What does that change mean to you? 

What to me?

Your first word of all was light,
and time began. Then for long you were silent.

Your second word was man, and fear began,
which grips us still.

Are you about to speak again?
I don't want your third word.
...
Be our shepherd, but never call us - 
we can't bear to know what's ahead.

Then a galloping line of white horses, so that soon we were in for a race..

life's viewer (thank you)

Ok, my last few entries have been downers. I just needed a little help from my friends. 

I remember reading in some DH Lawrence novel when I was a teenager that everyone saw themselves through some kind of lens - in our personal thoughts about ourselves - we imagine, or see - how we are seen. It was a revelation to me, and so was the following.

Just to show what a geek I am; I laughed and cried at the same time when I read these words recently from The Eye of the I:

The individual 'I' can only be aware of itself or its existence as a consequence of the greater Awareness. This is the innate quality of the Divine 'I' which is its source and the focus of the spiritual search. As such, it is thus nonverbal and the source of experiencing, witnessing, and observing. By analogy, one comes to realize that one is the water and not the fish.

It reminded me of a vision I had a year or so ago, of a painting; black zigzag stripes with circles and squares and triangles in them over a clay coloured background. The lines with shapes represented the vibration of everything. Some child had come along and drawn the outline of a man over this beautiful painting, and then a voice from inside said; "that child was you."

I was that child again over the last few weeks, boy, was I! But my friends rescued me. Talked to me, took me out (and kept me out all night), gave me a fantastic chakra alignment / reiki session (yes, it really works..) (ask me for contact info;), and wrote an awesome book called the Eye of the I. 

We see ourselves that way because we do actually also see from ourselves from without - because our truest consciousness is spread through everything, diffused like smoke through reality.

I'm going to quote some Rilke that I've quoted before, and but change it up with a few words of my own:

You are (I am) the deep innerness of all things,
the last word that can never be spoken,
to each of us you reveal yourself (we reveal ourselves) differently:
to the ship as coastline, to the shore as ship.

Love and Fortress Lake, misgivings/hopes..

Superman's Fortress of Solitude. The Irish say eagles have a secret lake, where they replenish their power.

That's what I need to do. Yet I run. From myself.

Out on a boat last night with a wise old man, he said that he kept journals over his life, because he spent so much time alone, he wanted his children to know where he had been, and why. He couldn't resist the force to be alone, because it was the only way to gather his power for what he had to do.

I said in Objective Observer (I think) that I didn't fear Andre anymore. But I do. I still do.

I went for a long walk at Schooner Cove the other night. Fresh cougar tracks were my only companion, and a boon of eagle feathers to be passed on, all but one. Tonight I walked on Chesterman's. The sun was set, and light drifted down below the horizon like feathers from a broken pillow. I was alone.

Healing. Gathering and pushing away. Thinking. When my mind is still, and my eyes off in the distance, I feel like finally my mind is thinking. Without me. I hope it's so. I hope the tattered 'ole supercomputer is finding a solution to what appears to be a problem without one.. In those moments of SILENCE my rat-virgo-brain is scouring around for a piece of my soul, again.

Again: is the problem.

Love - is the temptation.

The cradle is soft and warm
Lose yourself when you linger long
Into temptation
Knowing full well the earth will rebel

The Earth - will always rebel. Can I keep my nose out of temptation long enough to be the person I want to be?

For now - I think about my blood. My place. The Trajectory of my life.. Who I want to be. Maybe the earth will show me, if I ask politely..

Sad eyes, sad eyes
Where're you going with that confidence?

I'm going to where the boats go by
Caledonia river flow so wide

Still water - Laying over
Caledonia river oh, so wide

Meditations on the great Akashic shrug (the razor's edge)

I joked with a friend the other day, who was complementing me on doing good in the world - "it doesn't really matter, in the ten-billion-year picture - it's all irrelevant anyway." I was making the point that really we don't do good things to be good, but just to satisfy ourselves. I then joked that on the other hand - it's all recorded in the Akashic record, forever and ever..
Is it?

I think all real truths have an equal opposite. It doesn't matter. Every moment, breath, thought - a million Universes hang in the balance. This is to be a warrior. Shrug.

It reminds me of what has become my favorite quote from the Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh (OSHO), on what happens when someone learns deep meditation at a young age:

"He will do all the actions of the world but remain deep down unmoved."

There is a fundamental truth which is both funny and terrible, that underlies Carlos Castenada's words:

"For me there is only the traveling on paths that have heart, on any path that may have heart, and the only worthwhile challenge is to traverse its full length--and there I travel looking, looking breathlessly."

And another friend asked me recently, if I thought, as many online skeptics do, that Carlos Castaneda was just a liar and fakir. Yes. No. Does it matter? His work was an expression of his work - he took chances, he created a legacy that has shaped modern thought - he acted with power, as if every moment were his last. Shrug.

Irrelevant by the time the Universe has imploded and exploded a few more times, really. And also - the most important things in existence.

What is the Akashic Record? Edgar Cayce, in a psychic reading for someone, described it as:

Upon time and space is written the thoughts, the deeds, the activities of an entity – as in relationships to its environs, its hereditary influence; as directed – or judgment drawn by or according to what the entity's ideal is. Hence, as it has been oft called, the record is God's book of remembrance; and each entity, each soul – as the activities of a single day of an entity in the material world – either makes same good or bad or indifferent, depending upon the entity's application of self towards that which is the ideal manner for the use of time, opportunity and the expression of that for which each soul enters a material manifestation. The interpretation then as drawn here is with the desire and hope that, in opening this for the entity, the experience may be one of helpfulness and hopefulness.

Interesting how he stresses not what is good or bad, but how our actions are in accord, or not, with our own ideals. Our Ideal.

One of my favorite books, the Razor's Edge, is about a young guy in the 20's who kind of chucks it all and goes and wanders around, doing his own thing. He spends years in Greece and Italy and learns ancient Greek and reads Homer etc in their originals texts. He has a pension, so never has to worry about paying basic rent etc, although he's not rich. He ends up in India and when he first gets there he is on a ferry boat which gets held up (stalled) for the night. He notices a man on it who, despite the heat, discomfort, of standing on a boat all night, seems as bright and alert the next morning as he did the night before, while everyone else is disheveled and grumpy. He asks the man how this can be , and he says - yoga.

The young man learns meditation and sort of becomes 'enlightened' for lack of a better term. More importantly, he becomes happy. He goes back to America and becomes a truck driver; he always liked being in motion.

I tried to track the quote down I'm looking for, I will append it in the footnotes when I do. His parents died and some old dude friend of theirs raised him. There's a scene the guy who raised him describes the young man as a boy and how he pretty much did what he wanted - he wasn't a bad kid, he didn't do 'bad' things, but when directed to do anything he didn't want to do, etc, he'd just smile and shrug and do what he wanted to anyway.

Reality Sandwhich describes the Akashic Record as, ".. a dimension of consciousness that contains a vibrational record of every soul and its journey. This vibrational body of consciousness exists everywhere in its entirety and is completely available at all times and in all places. As such, the Records are an experiential body of knowledge that contains everything that every soul has ever thought, said, and done over the course of its existence, as well as all its future possibilities."

I'm not sure about the future possibilities thing, but I'll let it go for now.. Carlos Castaneda, whether a faker or real Sorcerer-Warrior, got this essential truth: everything's important; nothing's important.

I see this entry is a summation of a lot of what I've written so far, Stars - the Ideal we aim for - shape our lives. Shoot for the Stars, live every moment as if it's your last, but remain deep down unmoved. Speaking of stars - it's the Persied Meteor Shower tonight..

In attending to the absolute importance of every breathless breath of our existence, in an essentially meaningless universe, where everything we do is recorded for ever and ever (and ever) in our permanent akashic record, I will again invoke one of my favorite quotes in literature, from The Stand, by Stephen King - "You can't be careful on a skateboard, Mister."

Holy Rollers and Dark Highways

This entry has no eagles, and I've taken two stabs at it already, but all good entries start with, "fuck it."

In fact almost everything good in life starts that way,..   and a few bad things.

Life is a dark highway, we don't know what's around the corner. I think it's time for another tattoo, now that I'm dreaming again. I dreamed last night about a person that I met this morning, I went, 'gasp!' I know it sounds crazy.

Some things in life aren't working. On paper it looks great. What is not working leads you to truth. I believe.

Does meaning make us happy? I think it does. I live in the most beautiful place in Canada, I have great work. I wrote something a while ago about relationships, that when you notice yourself subconsciously sabotaging them, don't fight it, but realize that's in your best interests. Let go. Same with lots of life. It seems like a quitting attitude in a way, but it's not. It's about what is best for you. You know what is best for you, and so do I.

It's not about when something's hard, not just when it's rough and giving you a stomachache or drug addiction, but when you notice yourself stepping out of it, trying to subconsciously arrange for you to be out of it, or for it to change.

Be natural, be yourself.

I never would have quit lawschool under that principle. Right from A to Z, I wanted to be there. But I feel like giving this principle a name and applying it to life. I'm not good at this (Arthur/Aug/my bro? .. _____). Maybe without being overly esoteric I'll call it - "not making yourself do shit you don't want to do."

We all have a purpose. It's a dark highway. You may have set a goal, but don't pretend you know the way there. You don't. Neither do I.

My dream! I'll save for another time. I'm living it right now. I don't know what's around the corner, I don't need to, I like right where I am - rolling towards that mystery.

Shout from the rooftops - "Thimbleberries!!" (July)

Thimbleberries, the name says.. small. But they got a big taste! Like raspberries, but with a vanilla aftertaste. And their juice is thick and red. July.

Wtf was July all about?

I came across this blog today, http://crazysexylife.com/  I forget how - probably from some chick-friend on fb. The title attracted me.. what's not to like? Sexy, you say? I actually first read, "Crazy Sex Life.."   Yeah, I know..

After I got home from work I looked it up again to have a second look. The first title didn't interest me much (competition? a girl-thing guys just don't get (like girls don't get why guys like to break stuff) (ps - it's not the crunchy sound, it's the whole experience))) but I like new blogs, so I scrolled down,

"Lastly – it’s totally ok for you to be that extraordinarily lucky woman. When amazing things happen to you, share how you manifested it and shout it from the roof-tops. It gives everyone else permission to manifest even the craziest dreams too."

... I took the above from a post titled 5 Tips for Crazy Sexy Manifesting. Cool. That's what I came for. Let yourself be lucky. I just became relationship-free again lately, and my eyes have been re-opening to life..

Shout it from the rooftops! :) That's how this blog started, something about a little boy wearing a cape, and thinking - we should all wear capes (http://errandknight.blogspot.ca/2010/10/my-blog-my-chosen-lifestyle.html). The idea is to be who we are in the open, to have the courage to try to be our best, in the open.

The first point in the list of five is about letting go, and clearing up your junk. Yep. July was about that for sure. For me anyway. And I'd forgotten how good I have it in life, I had become disconnected from it, probably because I was in a relationship with someone who was somewhere else. The last few days I walked home, or wherever, and nibbled on the wild thimbleberries along the side of the road. Was this what I expected as a high point for July? Nay. Yet it was. We don't know where we'll find joy, or what will tie us to our daily experience of the world. And.. they're really good!

As a small town lawyer I have struggled with having a blog, this blog. These are my guts on the page. Now I feel it's more likely I'll go totally public with it one day than ever take it down. I set out to live a new kind of life, for me, and to set an example for others - so they too will shout from the rooftops - You can live your dreams!!!!

I live in paradise, and I work for it. I never would have dreamed, 20 years ago, when I first came here, that I could live a life like this, and I have no idea what I'm gonna do next...

For today - I'm glad to have my daily joy back. It is a crazy sexy life. ;)

Twilight of the Idols and the Awakening Society..

"It's not a student protest, it's a society that is awakening."

An old friend from Halifax honked me down as she drove by this afternoon - probably recognized my walk (one of the great things about living in a tourist town - everyone comes to you:). She was always a great activist, and one of my inspirations for going to law school. She gave it all up a year or two ago, after her Mom died in an accident. It woke her up.

There are currently huge student protests going on in Quebec and Mexico. Did anyone catch that? It's not in "Egypt" anymore - it's here. Cue the quote, "They're here.... "

"They're" - us. It's time. I can be pretty cocky at times and feel like I've been ahead of this 'awakening' curve for a while - I gave up my day job and dove after my dreams. She reinforced it to me today, that all that's worth doing is our passion, and just in time too - I needed to hear it. I've been feeling overwhelmed a bit, and losing sight of the Stars, looking at the fence-posts.

She said she feels like she's retired, and I said (from Doc in Long Beach, Cali) - 'Everyone should be retired from 25-45, and then work until they die.'

When people in our lives die - it wakes us up. The opposite of my friend - it was my Dad's death that helped me see I needed to give, and live, through my work - it inspired me to get to where I am.

Montreal and Mexico - the only part of North America that's not in Revolution is the english speaking part.. Why Not???

What will wake us up, what Idols must fall? Brad Pitt or some hockey player?

The Moon is setting, into the forest, outside my window. I watched it earlier, as I hung out on the beach with some friends. There it goes.

911 shocked a lot of people, but it didn't seem to wake them up, as much as put them to sleep. To hide, perhaps. Like when you don't wanna get out of bed on a day when you dread work. Fuck work. Do what you love. The greatest revolution we can ever have in human society is for everyone to do as they love, to act from love. Then we are all free noble beings. With no need of Idols

And if you cannot work with love but only with distaste, it is better that you should leave your work and sit at the gate of the temple and take alms of those who work with joy.

The love of life.... Suil-na-Greine

Hope is only the love of life

My brother was right, some time ago, when he said that because I'd set out to live my life, fully and completely, without any reservation, I had found joy, and in doing that - I had found something I would never want to give up.

A woman I used to work with, back in Ontario, stumbled into my office today. We chatted about times old and new, she had a friend with her and I told them my story of the last few years. They both said they wanted to do it too, but it was just a dream. They couldn't know.. that I've doubted, that although I haven't waved the white flag I keep it furled in one pocket, on many days. Before leaving her friend said, "I have a little bracelet I picked up here this week, it says, 'follow your heart'".

"Hope" is the thing with feathers

that perches in the soul

Yes, he's right. But what's it all about? Hope. It carries us through our days, if we're lucky. Because even if it's only a trick, and at the end it was all for nothing - at least our days were coloured well, we acted with honour, and got up in the morning and fled the nest..

I heard a story in high school, about siamese twins. Their heads were stuck together, in such a way that one looked up and the other looked down, all the time. The up one was happy and optimistic. It's a metaphor for ourselves. The down twin was sad and did not thrive. No wonder.

"In Gaelic the eagle was sometimes called Suil-na-Greine, Eye of the Sun... "

I turned down a trip the other day, too much to do ;) I went hiking and was gifted a giant eagle feather, mottled, from a juvenile - representing Transformation. A gift from the Sky God. In my travels of the last few years, particularly the real pure part of it - California - I was in touch with who I really am, so much, my best and worst, and eternal indifference, and JOY, pure LOVE OF LIFE, since then - there's no going back.

I kicked a hole in the sky. Always look up. Always hope, always believe in your dreams. But don't be attached to them - you are both older and newer than they - be ready to drop 'em and pick up new ones at a moments notice. There's an endless supply at the shop..

Kick a hole in the Sky. Run down your dream. Meditate.

After a glimpse

over the top

the rest of the world

becomes a.. gift.. shop

Paddling in blood and other things money can't buy

This is an addendum to surprise trampolines, as that's come up a lot lately. I had a chance to go paddling today with some First Nations friends. I had work to do. But no appointments. I had just gone to see them off this morning, and then go to work. They invited me along, and I went.

They talked about family. And Art. Making Art to show what's yours. Making art to teach the world. Money can buy art. But can it buy eyes to see?

My family's not here. But they are. I can't go visit them. But they're with me all the time. Today my friends paddled back up a river of blood - their own. And I paddle up mine. I longed, as they spoke, to go back home. For they spoke of place.

Then I had eyes to see - the home of my blood has never been a place - but an idea. My Dad did it his way (with politics) my Grandfather his (with his fists), I mine.

I swam, ate salmon, got a sunburn, laughed, cried (almost), made new friends, and paddled.

Today was a day money can't buy.

June and who you really are (True North)

It's not June anymore, I'm aware of that. Today's themes are love and the environment. As we travel through life things come along and remind us who we really are. That happened to me today.

I was chatting with a friend and told him a story from years ago about a tough time I'd gone through and how it helped me find myself. I could feel my compass turn, I said, and as I write I see that it was not just turning from one point to another, but from a false point, back to 'true'.

June 2012 has been tough for lots of people. It's been like - the Spring was grand, we could see this vast vista of the future and people were excited and electrified about it all.. then June came along, and we have to deal with the bars between us and that future. They are bars of our own making, but they have to be removed nonetheless, before we can proceed. Those bars are, ultimately, the ways we disempower ourselves. We all have our own, whether it's money, love, pot, food, or just staying unclean and off our path - not meditating; lying to ourselves.

The false compass point is the lie. I chose to express my love of the creator, and created, through service to the environment. I may one day express it differently. Perhaps through service to my country, and the ideal called "Canada". Perhaps through art. Shrug.

Today I see the path again. I hope you do too.

What stories of yourself remind you of who you really are?

Lebanon

Wherever you go, there you are. Wherever you are - it's hard not to dream about other places. I live in the place everyone wants to go, wants to be, the most beautiful place in Canada. I decided tonight, as I sat down to write, to let itunes play till it brought me a topic.

Wasn't hard - love and peace, or else.

Life is a journey, and many people say or think that if you want to be happy you should just do it where you are, or else you're "running away".

  Run run run run run.

                                               Running to stand still.

That song, love and peace, always reminds me of Lebanon. No matter how wonderful a place is - the future always beckons. I haven't figured out if it's a sickness or a hope, a sickness or just love of life. Love but not peace, unless it's peace in motion...

I've wanted to go there for years - the cedars, the beaches, the history, the mountains, the fact that they've stood against everything and everyone, a diverse multicultural society, formed of Muslims, Jews, Christians, speaking three languages, through violence and terror.

That's a place I want to go.

It represents a fantasy for me in some way, I don't know how - Lebanon. No matter how great my life is, and it is, it's hard not to dream about Lebanon.

Moon and the hawk

Came home tonight from a good and bad day. The moon was shining over the house. I'd been on the beach with some friends, looking at it, and to come home to it... shouldn't be a surprise.

Yet it just felt so constant. Years ago, probably Fall 2006, I was pretty down about life. I came home one day and there was a little plastic hawk on my step, standing there looking at me. In my animal cards the Hawk represents perspective and vision. Looking back over your past; seeing into your future.

When I went out earlier tonight I sat that little hawk on my computer. I knew back then, as soon as I walked up the steps and saw it, that my brother had left it there for me, even though I hadn't seen him in a few days.

There are challenges in life. It's good to be reminded of things that are constant. Our bodies are cycles of dust. Our souls are as constant as the stars in the sky. How you feel about things all depends on what you choose to identify with.

A Warrior knows that the ends do not justify the means.

Because there are no ends, there are only means. Life carries him from unknown to unknown. Each moment is filled with this thrilling mystery: the Warrior does not know where he came from nor where he is going.

Jedi Knights / New Earth (whose idea is this, anyway?)

Well, Saturday night's alright for writing, so here I go. I was born in 1972. I was five when Star Wars came out. George Lucas studied the works of Joseph Campbell, found the keys to our archetypal imagery (or "attractor fields"), and planted the idea in my mind that a small group of people could hold back a tide of darkness..
 ..the bastard. He probably did it to you too.

And something else that defines our generation, is global warming: the environment.

"The future attracts us, like filings to a magnet.            

Nothing is “causing” anything. No THIS “causes” THAT...  

Creation is not sequential. The WITNESSING of the creation is sequential [so it gives the appearance of sequence.] . There is no beginning and no ending.

The whole purpose of spiritual work = Potentiality becomes Actuality."

I wanted to go to bed early tonight, I really did. But I started blog surfing - you go to one on your list, pick one on their list, go to it, keep doing that until you find something you never expected.

"... Sheldrake’s “Morphological Fields” –premise is that Life learns through experience, (via intelligence) and even when you die, there is an “Attractor Field” for that intelligence, and it creates new life---Therefore, evolution occurs in Consciousness itself, but not within Nature. Nature is the expression of evolution."

The above quotes are from a blog based on the work of David Hawkins, a remarkable old man, given the title of Knight (hm?) and Tae Ryoung Sun Kak Tosa, "Foremost Teacher of the Way to Enlightenment".

I read a book on Morphological fields when I was 18 or so. What I took out of it was: ideas crop up at the same time everywhere at once, ie - a bunch of people came up with Einstein's theory (making it not really Einstein's, but whose?) but he publsihed it first. For years I fought against this idea, and it's funny that the above blog material came up because it was that idea (of morphological fields, and that 'my idea' would spring up anyway if I didn't get it out there.. ) which inspired me to start this entry.

This idea came to me in a dream I had in 2006, I won't bore you with the details. It is for a group of environmental protectors, like Jedi Knights, but protectors of the Earth (a New Earth?).

Eckhart Tolle coined the term, "New Earth", I started the book of that title, but didn't get far. I like him but find his writing preachy. I've implanted my own idea here (as usual), and it is that post-2012 = we can create a better world, if we wish. Not just for the 'high-vibrational' people, as lots of 'spiritual types' seem to think, but for all of us.

To put it in other words, it is for a group of dedicated, highly trained and competent men and women working together behind the scenes, and more apparently when necessary, to guard and protect the Earth on which we all depend.

What are they called? Are they under the UN or are they organized in secret, do they have legal authority or just their exemplary professionalism? Are there five or five hundred? Do you know any?  Who pays them? Are they going to be formed, or have they already?

One thing I can tell you is - there are others thinking this..

Until recently I used to 'hog' ideas, thinking they were 'mine.' Foolish. Put them out in the world and they come back to you with cake. I mean, really, whose ideas are they, anyway?

Today I walked out in Schooner Cove, way out. I was alone with twisted rocks, bear tracks, sun and wind. At the end, I was going to turn back, but decided to walk right to the very end and kiss the rock. That's when I saw the eagle. I followed it around the corner into 'eagle cove' - it was full of them! They sat on the limbs of an old spruce and looked down at me, unperturbed by my presence. I knew by their calm that I had found my center. So I came home to write.

I thought I'd go out on a limb and voice this personal dream, be the first (or am I? ;) iron filing drawn to this magnetic concept/attractor field - sacred earth guardians.

Can we make that potentiality actuality?

Can we not?

Obi Wan - remember, a Jedi can feel the force flowing through him...

Luke - you mean it controls his actions?

Obi Wan - partially, but it also obeys your commands.

The Luminous Path..

The Term "the Shining Path' kept coming up for me the other day. A friend said it sounds so great in Spanish, 'sendero luminosa'. That is literally translated as, "the luminous footpath." I thought Shining Path was some sort of rebel group somewhere, so I looked it up...

... according to Wikipedia, "Shining Path (Sendero Luminoso in Spanish) is a Maoist guerrilla insurgent organization in Peru." Known for it's extreme violence. Hm. In principal I support rebel groups. But not violence. I hold that truth concurrently with being happy about the IRA, ANC, and American Revolutionaries having had at least some limited success.

I digress. Many of my blogs build on previous ideas, especially now that I've been doing it a while, and this one builds on Return of the errand knight (travels in a luminous world)

Life is a footpath, and it is waiting for us.

"The sharp edge of a razor is difficult to pass over; thus the wise say the path to Salvation is hard."
- the Razor's Edge

It can only be walked on foot - on your own power.

Everything has it's own inner light, and I think the world illuminates the path for you, before you, if you are able to see it. When you peel away our pasted-on view of the world and see everything as magical, miraculous: luminous - every rock, sidewalk square of concrete, dandelion, eagle in the sky, and person, can speak to you, show by its light whether you should go one way or another. Your path glows, and it is living, and it invites you along, you are drawn along by it's luminous and magnetic force, as long as you are able to let go and let God.

Is it a difficult path, like the Razor's Edge describes? Maybe, for who can let go of themselves?

We have everything to gain. We live in darkness. When you really inquire we can never understand the mystery of existence. I believe that we all have a yellow brick road, yes a fantasy road - to our perfect life, our perfect place in the world, it is narrow. There many things you cannot bring.

This entry has taken some time to write, I've been distracted. But through the process of writing it the same themes have kept coming up, talking to friends and people I love and admire - follow your joy, do what makes you feel alive. Also - avoid that which makes you feel tired, hopeless, or grey. Like I wrote in Luminous World (above) - if you just put your foot out and trust, everything will be fine.

It's like there are stones on the path, or... in a field of bricks which look all the same to everyone else, only you can see the yellow brick road. Here's a tip - step on the one's that glow. Avoid the grey ones. You don't know where it's leading you, life is on a need-to-know basis, and you don't need to know.

To follow it requires a total willingness to let go, of where we thought we were going, and what each step was going to look like, and an absolute dedication to following through on following your path. These are the two opposing forces that keep us balanced on the sendero luminosa.

Pentecost / our marching orders / the river's edge

CLEANSE ME
DEEP IN THE FIRE
I HAVE
BECOME PURE WATER

I WEAR MY SWORD
AT MY SIDE

I knew it was out there, I thought it was in Perceval; The Story of The Grail, by Chretien De Troyes. I'm usually pretty good at leafing through a book to the page I want, but could not. I think it's actually in Ywain: Knight of the Lion. I loved that one, but gave it away...

What I was looking for was: when the Knights of the Round Table set out on their quest for the Holy Grail. I thought it was on Pentecost, but in fact it was the day after. They were inspired on Pentecost, when they saw the Grail. King Arthur held a feast, and they said - we must have an adventure before we can eat. Then the Grail, veiled, came to them. They were awed.
Gawain, impetuous, announced he would go on a quest to see it revealed, and the other knights took the pledge. Arthur knew this was the end of Camelot in a way, because it would separate them all. He was right - but it was also the beginning. For this act (whether real or mythical) was the root of the archetype created in western culture; the knight on a spiritual quest, the warrior seeking perfection through a cause greater than himself.
I came across this, from a book called Temple and Contemplation:

Pentecost is the main feast of the Grail Temple. ... and the spirituality of the Grail knights is dominated by the mystery of Pentecost...

I had been thinking to write this entry after Pentecost, about what I did on that day. But the signs said to write it now. In doing so I have learned a lot about the Festival - it's both Christian and Jewish, Moses was given the ten commandments on Pentecost. The Knights of the Round Table saw the Grail on Pentecost and were inspired to their Quest. It is a Catholic tradition, but many other Christian groups also recognize it.

I have had something personal in mind, a ritual, that I wanted to do on this day to celebrate, and emulate, the Knights of the Round Table heading out on their quest. In 2012 Pentecost is on Sunday, May 27th.

The day was drawn to my attention two years ago. I was living in Ontario, frustrated with life, and wanting to live my 'spiritual purpose' more fully. I had plans with friends that Sunday, which was social contact I sorely needed. I felt that something, I knew not what, was more important, however, and stayed home. I did a ritual where I relinquished the past, and past promises, and recommitted myself to my highest purpose. I committed to use my worldly skills and knowledge for good, and I used my sword in the ritual to represent that worldly skill and knowledge. I told a friend about it later, and how the strange urge to do all that had possessed me that Sunday, and she said, "you know it's Pentecost, right?" I had not. I find it's good to re-commit. And that rituals have power to transform.

So I chose to do this entry beforehand, to share this plan with you, because we're all...  one. I will keep what I do on Pentecost to myself and my inner circle. I invite you to have your own Pentecost, to set out on your own Holy mission, to set your own Quest for the highest good in yourself and your world; to accept your marching orders from God.

Again I'll say - it's 2012. Whether that means anything other than what we make it - why not make it mean something? I dare you to commit to your highest good.

To me the image of a river plays a part, like a baptism, but down to the root of it: water washes us clean, and passing under it is symbolic of rebirth. Leave your old self behind, and become your next incarnation. In whatever river you choose to immerse yourself, whether it's water or air, real or symbolic, let it take away all the old lies and deadwood about who you are, and then rise up from it to be your best expression on this Earth. What is that? Holy Warrior, High Priestess, King, Magician, Bodhisattva, Servant, Mother, Artist, Creator?

And it's good and it's true, let it wash over you
Untethered and without a reason

You and all of creation

A friend said years ago to me, regarding dating; just be yourself, then you'll find someone that fits who you are. Why should it take almost forty years to get something so simple? Other friends said, after I became single again a few months ago - that I should just play the field and stuff, but really - that's just not my bag, baby.

When you are yourself and just act naturally, you fit into all of creation, and accept yourself as a part of it. You can only act naturally if you love yourself, because you have to consider yourself worthy of being you in the world. And if you do that, I think it becomes easy to see that we are everything, and in loving ourselves and acting on that in the world - the world loves us back.

We saw two eagles, while driving, they were beside the road and flew up in front of us. But instead of getting away from the car, they both swooped as close as they could to it, unrealistically huge in our windshield, eyes, and minds. Huge in our hearts. One was a juvenile (all dark), one had adult plumage. It's Spring!

I recently googled the eagle mating dance (check it out if you haven't). Some of the shots of it are of a juvenile and an eagle with adult plumage. They can be just one year apart, and I guess that's when they pick their mate for life, hm..

In March life was a pile of blessings, and still some challenges, and I was blissfully happy. I was thankful, for the place I live, for my work and the opportunities it brings, for my friends and family. And I asked for one thing: Love, that was just simple and natural, with no barriers or holdups or wierdnesses, someone that loved me and that I could love, and we could just move into the future together.

As I mentioned in my last entry - I met a wonderful woman recently. I gave her a bracelet with two eagles on it for her birthday last week.

Tonight I stood on the deck of the house I was house-sitting at when I started this blog. Thinking about how much I love the world, and this new love I've found, I watched the light fade from the mountains surrounding me, and a million, billion, guhzillion stars come out. I've become convinced over the last year that our entire notion of reality is wrong. Miracles are the norm.

You and me and all of creation, these are the things I love.

my love
bird in the sky
angel of the sea
a merman's destiny

you found me

April showers and the faery princess (maybe I'm crazy)

I told you I love March. March saved its greatest gift for the last, and April has showered a few more on me..

All my hero's had the courage to lose their life out on a limb

March planted the seeds, as I wrote about in March and Human Spring (not like I'm smart, just opinionated), and in April (as I also said for 2012, that things would move fast, (well, I thought it..)) they took off,

So let me take you, take you to the movie. Can I take you, baby, to the show.
Why don't you let me be yours ever truly. Can I make your garden grow?...

I Met someone. On the ferry. Capital M. March 31. See http://errandknight.blogspot.ca/2011/10/51.html , 13 lines from the bottom. Check.

AND, in Joseph-Campbell-esque-mythology there is a moment in life called "the call." If you don't answer it, you're pretty much fucked. If you do - you are set out on a path, where many paths, "and errands" meet. I got that too. May I be up to the task.

Because,

... all I remember is thinkin,
"I wanna be like them."

April fucking rocked. Ask the Universe to bring love into your life, see what happens. Ask the Universe for work of meaning. This blog has evolved way beyond what it was intended, but it is still about those fundamental things, fundamental to me - meaning love travel art nature the environment.. you know. It's all here.

In life, love, work, I want to have the courage to risk my life out on a limb, because if it ain't worth risking, it ain't worth having. April 2012 - gave me the chances to do so. Out of my 900 months of life, there'll never be another. Things are speeding up, "battle lines being drawn." I think we are all getting 'the call.' Have you heard it? I heard it..

it's time we stop, hey, what's that sound
Everybody look what's going down

Love. Yeah, battle too. For Love. Good thing I found a faery warrior princess.

Good thing I'm in the company of eagles.