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...