Boori's travels in dreamland (January 2012)

Another book my Mom bought me - I seem to talk about them almost as much as I reference the Tragically Hip - was Boori.
Again, I was in my teens. It seemed silly or weird at first. But then I picked it up one day and started reading, and was quickly hooked. It's Australian, and loosely an Aborigine myth. It's about a old man, Budgerie, who makes a boy out of clay and gives him life.
This has been a theme of the month for me, as I said in my weird little blog about the otters - intention, and making ourselves, and I decided, since it's 2012, to do a "month-entry", since everyone's changin an all..

Boori opens with a quote - "The Aborigine Law says that a man is responsible for what he does, not what he intends to do."

In the last entry I reached for the same idea, in saying we are all both a work of art and the artist, we are all both Budgerie and Boori.
Like Pinochio; Boori makes himself, by his choices, more than just a moving man-shaped piece of clay, but a real human being. The book has great art - done by A.M. Hicks (and it was written by Bill Scott, in 1978).
I copied (roughly) a few pieces of the artwork in 1989 or 1990, in High School.
The last one is a picture of Boori, his form is empty, and he is on a mountaintop throwing a spear at the Sun.
There is a poem with it;

Fly swift and true, weapon in my hands.
Find out the ways to the heart of the sun.
Bring us the fire he will give to your keeping.
Return with his blessing to my hands!

The Fire of the Sun is meaning in our lives - this is the Invisible Sun, that "gives us heat when the whole day's done."
I think meaning is a combination of things; following our dreams, and doing the hard things required to make them come true. In continually seeking meaning, and going the distance, I think we make ourselves into something different, and that always looks like - throwing a spear at the Sun. It is the farthest, the brightest thing on our personal horizon, the source of life itself. I see friends wrestling with this - finding meaning in life. I am too. It takes faith, and it takes work. Boori threw the spear at the Sun at the end of the book. It takes a warrior spirit.

I think, after 20 years or so, it's time to re-read Boori.

In the Year of the Dragon...

I started a project today of assembling my first 22 blog entries into a book that I can distribute to friends. If anyone wants one - just ask.

I did entry #2. Kinda printed it on some neat paper and copied some pics on it with some notes. January 23rd, just gone by, marked the Year of the Dragon. Again, in the fine tradition of errandknight and in keeping with the Bhagwan's edict I quoted in entry #2;

"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."

And let's be clear, the "Bhagwan" is - OSHO. Same thing, different name. The trickster master, the one who peddles enlightenment. He's been exposed, to some. He's still right. ONLY by being ourselves can we come to our destiny, whatever it may be.

I dropped my sentence - in the fine tradition of errandknight and Mr. Bhagwan - I am drinking beer and listening to the Tragically Hip (and writing). There is a God, and it is here as much as there. The beautiful love. A dangerous tug..

The world is waiting. For the year of the Dragon. I don't know what to believe. I just read, er.. looked at, Everything everywhere's ten favorite cities: http://everything-everywhere.com/2011/03/14/my-10-favorite-cities/ ah, fuck. Jerusalem. How could it be # 1? I haven't even been there.

In the year of the dragon lotsa men dissappear.
Quiet as it's kept - they won't be back next year.

It's been a long time comin'. I actually started this blog post-travel. October, 2011, I had just come back to BC, was still homeless and unemployed, but I'm still here. This entry is about - what comes next. I live in my favorite place on earth, my spiritual home since I was 19. I'm sharpening my sword.

And digesting. Still digesting the last relationship. My writing's been constipated. For me that means, not - "I've run out of things to say", but "i got something that I'm having trouble saying." Out of 181 Hips songs, I've heard wind down the pines once and long time runnin' twice. Got it. AND - I think I'm slightly afraid of what comes next. Yet, that's what this entry is about.

when are you thinking of disappearing?

This blog, and this entry - if I could find a word for it.. I feel like there must be one in another language, all these words - could be said in one: the need to continue, to pursue, to be as your own nature.

When the famous are getting airborne?
When the evacuation's under way
And not for all the pot in Rosedale
Could you possibly get them to stay?
When the world becomes a gift ship?

It already is. I am here, at the end of the road, and this is a place I could stay. The forest of whispering speakers; the dead, who push with their hands like you're a child, and whisper - "live, live.." they know - this person you are, I am, this combination of genetics and indestructible spirit - will only be once; here; now.

I ran on Middle Beach today. It was raining. I clambered up into an old-growth spruce tree. It's overlooked that beach for hundreds of years. Sitting up in it's branches, alone, among the clumps of ferns - it whispered, "live."

First thing we'll climb a tree

and maybe then we'll talk

or sit silently

and listen to our thoughts

with illusions of someday

casting a golden light

no dress rehearsal

this is our life

Life is full of disappointments, victories, we are all a single work of art waiting to be made. We are all an artist. I live a life (despite some hardships that most people would never endure as the price), and in a place - that most people only dream of. The word that keeps coming to mind lately is: blessed. I am that.

I stand at the beach, and at the shores where there's no-one. I stare out at the horizon. A friend from the prairies recently said to me, "do you stare at the sea a lot?" as in - "does the sea hold magic for you, allure?"

Yes. But, I stare at something else.

Jerusalem.

It's just played Gift Shop for the third time..

The rest of the world...

Fear and the Warrior's Path

A friend came over last weekend and I was whining that I didn't feel well. She does Rieki, so she offered to give me a quick tune-up. I immediately felt worse; a pressure in my chest and a rising fever. I said to her, no - mumbled - "do I have a fever?" but she heard; "do I have a fear?"

She told me that, and I promptly went to the bathroom to be sick, which I did a lot more of later that night. Then I got better!
And I had some time to lay in bed and reflect, about what fears have been eating my soul.

As I've said on here before, I was a shy, quiet kid (look out for the quiet ones!). After I left to hitch-hike across Canada when I was 19, from Halifax, my "friends"(the bastards) had a funeral for me. It wasn't a joke - they genuinely thought they'd never see me again. But after I got back, having pushed through the veil of Fear twice - once at Sussex, NB, the other at Vancouver, BC (through to Tofino - the destination I hadn't known existed when I set out, except that I wanted to go to "the end,") those friends, some of them, and others who heard about it - approached me, quietly, on the side, at parties or on the street, and they said, eager for the knowledge because they too had a passion inside, "how'd you do it?, weren't you afraid?"

And I'd say, "of course I was afraid, if you're not afraid - you're an idiot: stay home." Sometimes I'd go beyond that, and try to analyse something more, but I'm sure I never put it in these words; "How else would you know your path (was worthy of you)?"

Like following your bliss, follow your fear. Your fear is a flashing neon sign down a dark alley at night, advertising - "Salvation."
Your fear will lead you home, beyond yourself.
But you don't live with it, you just stand, when faced with choices, they are like archways surrounding you: walk through the one you fear most, into the "forest adventurous." Of course, at times you'll be a brash youth, like Luke Skywalker in Empire, in Yoda's swamp; "I'm not afraid." And I'll say to you, if you choose the right path, what Yoda said to Luke - "you will be."

But, like Luke, once you've moved through that, and like me when I was 19, after I decided to leave Sussex, and Vancouver, to keep going west, into the unknown - then you move beyond fear again. Then you have to be like the skateboarder in Stephen King's "It."

In It these people come back to their home town, and are confronting their demons again, but now as adults. The main guy and girl characters are walking down a hill and a kid whips by on a skateboard. The kid reminds the guy of himself, and the guys yells, "be careful, kid!" The kid yells back, "you can't be careful on a skateboard, mister!"
The guy reflects - it's true, you need everything you've got to skateboard well, if you put the least bit of your attention on - "being careful" you're screwed. It all has to go into skateboarding.

Such is life. It's acceptable to be afraid. But move through it - and then act, without any thought or attachment to outcomes. All of your attention goes into, as Yoda said, "where he is, what he is doing."

I've been afraid of failure. That I finally got to this place I wanted to be, and wasn't going to make it. Wasn't going to make enough money to make it fly, no-one would wanna work with me, etc. They call it "Tuffcity" for a reason. I was also afraid of my own heart - the "darkest one", that I had hurt,and had to be afraid of love.
Your fear will lead you home. I don't care if I succeed here. I don't care if I'm incapable or unworthy of love in some harsh universe that judges people afterall.

Just let me see my prey, and like an eagle shaking dust from his feathers of too long in the nest, drop and open my wings. To move truly in the world. Like a race car driver, in the "golden moment."
The outcome is irrelevant, but to be - the unmoving axle, and the moving wheel. You just have to do it, I guess.

Night or day, whate'er befall,
  I must walk that desert land,
Until I dare my fear, and call
  The lion out to lick my hand!

"Enter your feathers"...

the path of Faith...

Faith. Over the last year and a half faith has been my greatest teacher, friend, lover and coach. I've followed it, broken it, wished for it, acted on it, and been thankful for it.

When I committed to be here in Tofino I had a few sources of income lined up, because I knew my main gig here might not be enough at first. They all dried up recently, other than the main gig. I was pretty stressed about it, and sat in the office the other day contemplating my choices. I was on day two of asking for faith, when a lady walked in the door. She was around 50, with kind eyes. She said, "do you work here?" I said, "yeah." She said she was a lawyer too, from Duncan, and visits here a few times a year. I told her that I moved here in September and had just started practicing. She said, "good for you!" Then she said, "I had a chance to move here and set up practice about 18 years ago, and I didn't do it, and I always wished I had."

It left me wondering; is 'asking for faith' the same as 'having faith'? I think it might be. Maybe it's when you give up asking that you're screwed.

Thanks, Universe. I'll stick it out. I'm sure another month of oatmeal for breakfast and rice for supper will build character. :)

Speaking of character. I recently ended a relationship in very ungraceful fashion. It took faith in a way, because I realized I was scared to end it, and be on my own yet again. But I also broke faith with someone, and treated them very poorly. Lame.
Yet, the path of faith is not simple, like twin horses, of fear and desire, love and lust, faith, and ... ???

Again, my love turns to nature, some crazy ideals, and the daily quality of my own life; of me;

 ....    Therefore he went. And what wonder
If sometimes he could not remember
Which was the one who wished on his departure
Perils that he could never sail through,
And which, improbable, remote, and true,
was the one he kept sailing home to?

Maybe I'm just too scared of the real thing. Or maybe - I just want so much to fill my cup: to live my dreams completely, even if it turns out to be a total disaster and I'm old and alone with a broken leg, maybe, as my brother said a year or so ago, after all the experiences of the last year - maybe I've finally put my own happiness first, and am willing to gamble on that. Maybe Faith in yourself is the only real "home" we can ever have.

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

I am sorry to the people I have hurt, it wasn't necessary to be on my path, but...

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

Give me your hand.

These are the voices of the path of faith^v


Walk out with me toward the unknown region,
Where neither ground is for the feet nor any path to follow?

2012, Face into the Current (if otters can do it...)

It's finally here, where are we? Who are we?

I asked my brother that some years ago, when he was struggling with stuff, to ask himself: who am I? He returned the question to me some months ago.

2012 is a number. As is 13. 72. 99. Wayne Gretzky. 454 is a great engine, as well as the number of grams in a pound. At 5:55 he came walkin through the front door smilin'...

Choices. In studying warriorship lately I've come to see that as one of the fundamental factors. As well as integrity and a constant awareness of Death. And doing everything with joy and humour. Like otters. Choice and Intention are sort of the same, except not. You choose, then you intend to carry it through.
Choices, Integrity, Awareness of Death, Humour, Intention.

Choices.
Integrity.
Awareness of Death.
Humour.
Intention.

We have 350 days left till the end of the world. Phewf. Will Stephen Harper still be PM? Will people still go hungry while we fish the seas out of sardines to feed to caged up salmon, at a rate of four pounds of sardines to produce one pound of salmon? 4:1. Numbers have significance for us. And really - we all want the world to end. Fer fucksake - will someone change it already? I can't bear to look anymore... it's breaking everyone's hearts (not mine though).

O' great ocean
want to break the hearts of everyone
run to the ocean
want to be your wheezing screen door
ru-un to the sea..
want to be your stars of Algonquin

I had a dream last night - there was an otter in the river. It was hovering in the water, facing upstream, nose in the current. Then it clambered up out of the water and stood next to me, arms at its sides, looking straight ahead, with intention. As it did so it turned into a four-foot-tall black and white whiskered "Being," with a pink pot-belly. It was a "Being," or had become one - by having an intention, and following through on it.

There was a pool in the river where the rocks had been piled to the downstream edge so others could swim and enjoy. It had been done generations ago, by people who no longer existed. The rocks were shaped like otters. They had been shaped that way by facing into the current for so long. They even had eye-lumps of stone. All their lives, forever, those rocks had just wished to face into the current. And so became more than just rocks. They enjoyed facing into the current, for all to see, with intention, to show others what they could make themselves.

Lesson: rocks are alive and have intentions.

All things are alive, all things are "beings," and have intentions.


Everything. Even 2012. Even Wayne Gretzky. Even You.

I have a fantasy: it is that everyone takes their sincerest, most personal, sensitive, fragile, naive, goofy, ambitious, optimistic, crazy hope - and decides to make it come true this year.

Launch your book, movie, self-help group, business, clinic, blog, trip, mission, desire - this year. Start a new kind of food bank. Paint. It has to be something good, for others, something that will make the world better. I'd say - prepare it all year, and launch it on December 21, 2012. But really - if you can do it tomorrow - go for it. Lets make it a whole year of crazy dreams!

Or maybe you have a war to fight; to end fish-farming, or open-pit copper mines. Or maybe you seek to connect with your fellow soul-warriors and form a new group of knights that protect the Earth, or protect those who can't protect themselves...

If we all launch our dreams this year we will have a New World by the time we're done.
I double-dog dare ya.

You are a Warrior. Stones can turn themselves into Otters. Otters can turn themselves into "Beings." You can turn your self into a Dream, an Intentional Warrior, A Hero.. Prepare. Prepare to make a New World.

2012 is the number of Intention.

Who are WE? Who we choose to be.