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.