To me, this one really seems like a no brainer, but then I sit and really think on it, how many of this world's issues and questions are formed around not going? So much certainty is expressed in the space of question, the fear of not going building such a deep insecurity that it is then expressed as complete certainty.
It reminds me of a conversation I was fortunate to have with Dr. Neil Degrasse Tyson a few weeks ago. He was talking about how so many folks are critical of space exploration, using the argument that we have earth problems to deal with first so there is no need to head to space. I admit that I have had this exact thought and have expressed it more than once. Dr. Tyson's logic made use of the cave metaphor. If our ancestors who dwelt in caves would have used the justification of not going, where would we be?
Imagine, Joe Rockcrusher is chilling with his cousin Demarcus Stoneface and Demarcus says, "Joe, do you ever wonder what is out past that land-bulge?" Joe, having heard his cousin's wild notions before, sighs and says, "Look, man, I've told you this before. Out there, there's nothing there. Besides, we've got cave problems to deal with. We need to sort those out first before we go running off into THAT!"
Where would we be if Demarcus didn't say Fuck It and run for the hills? Well, we would still be sitting in caves scratching our butts with sticks probably. Now, don't get me wrong, I love a good butt-scratching just as much as the next, but the Quest is as integral a part of our DNA as procreation. The unending urge to explore and press ourselves past current limitations is essential to our growth as individuals, cultural speaking, and certainly for the evolution of our species.
Looking at modern times, if we do not fly past our current set of paradigms, then we will perish from this earth. Perhaps like never before, our very survival requires us to radically shift every aspect of understanding and to re-imagine our relationship with every angle of life. Simply looking around oneself and seeing the division and destruction that is a result of our current modalities makes it abundantly clear the level of change needed for our continued existence.
Simple enough, right? Change if what is happening is not working. Well, the problem lies in two basic ingredients: 1) Folks are unwilling to let go, 2) Folks are unwilling to go. If your cup is full of dirty water, ain't got no room for clean water. If the faucet that gives you that dirty water is right here, ain't got no reason to go trekking for that clean spring you've heard about.
The recipe I follow for this is nothing new or special, but it could be perceived as difficult if you're looking with your current lenses. So first, clean out those old and tired eyes, and let's check it out with some freshness. First, if you think you know something, forget it. That's really step one. You have to make space for new information for come in, the processor that is your brain does not have unlimited capacity. Once you've made space, then new experience can bear the fruit of understanding. But this can't come from just wishing it, you must will it.
If you think ditching old cycles of the self is difficult, then perhaps the next stage is a little advanced. However, if you're lighter and more free than when you began, here's the next step...GO!!!
It doesn't matter where, it doesn't matter how(yes, it kind of does, but we've got time for that), just go. I could say that it has to look like this or that, but that's unimportant to start. The key is to go, let yourself be free and vulnerable to experience. Maybe then, you will see what has been in front of you this whole time. Bon chance.
Sunday, July 2, 2017
Thursday, May 4, 2017
Patience
Patience is something that I have truly had to practice in my life. I have heard it is a virtue and understood that it is something of serious value to a developing individual, but to truly understand it has taken me on a journey of deep insight and discomfort. At my age, about to turn 30, I still find myself so much in a hurry and wanting to shape everything in a manor that slows it all down. Even this has a certain hectic vibration to it, "wanting to shape everything in a manor that slows it all down."
Wanting is without a doubt one of the strangest and most dualistic experiences I have encountered throughout my life. To want something is not only a mental experience, that intention of wanting makes a physical pull as well. Whether it is conscious or unconscious, once I have decided that I want something I begin to shape every experience into how I can get that thing.
For example, I want sex. When I have that want, I begin looking for someone. So to begin looking for someone I begin going to places where someone might be. This might lead to bars, parties, somewhere to eat, etc. The elements that schedule my time are pushed and pulled towards where that potential connection might occur. Then once it is found, what next? I have just spent my energy and time seeking this person, convinced them to fuck me, and then what? The want has been satiated.
What's next is typically the emergence of yet another want. Our days begin to become filled with the quest to satisfy this little being inside of us that must be fed, lest it becomes irritated and starts to tug at our internal strings. So for most of us, the day is a long series of want/satiate with a little sprinkle of want/disappointment. I wake, i'm hungry. I eat, i'm thirsty. I'm full, I shit. My hair is a mess, I work it. My clothes are old, I buy more. I'm hungry, I eat. I'm tired, I drink coffee.I'm wired, I get stoned. I digest, I shit. I'm bored, I I I i iiiiiiiiiiii.............
It really becomes a story of self-indulgence, all of this wanting. But you might say that you have to eat and sleep and and and, well sure of course. But what happens if we really stop taking out the wants? Pick one. Any one want and see what happens when that want comes up. Do you need it for your survival or mental health? Are you justifying that you need it just so you can have it? Does the craving go away when you don't satisfy it?
For me, refined sugar has been a kryptonite for the majority of my life. My mother has a serious sweet tooth and I adopted that trait for sure. I think most children growing up in the world today have some relationship with sugar. When that desire comes up, though, I drink water and wait 30 minutes. If the craving for sugar comes up again, I will usually drink some more water and wait again. 98% of the time that craving goes away, but the 2% that remains I usually satisfy it in someway. Not by running to 7-11 and getting the mormon family sized candy bar, but I will eat something sweet.
My point being, this life is here for us to experiment with. If we let ourselves fall into the rut that is urge satisfaction, we may just fall into a funky pit that becomes harder and harder to climb out of the further we go. Remember, though, change on this planet happens very slowly and deliberately. Have you ever sat and watched a Ponderosa grow, or stayed to see the tides change? We are no different in our quest to grow.
Wanting is without a doubt one of the strangest and most dualistic experiences I have encountered throughout my life. To want something is not only a mental experience, that intention of wanting makes a physical pull as well. Whether it is conscious or unconscious, once I have decided that I want something I begin to shape every experience into how I can get that thing.
For example, I want sex. When I have that want, I begin looking for someone. So to begin looking for someone I begin going to places where someone might be. This might lead to bars, parties, somewhere to eat, etc. The elements that schedule my time are pushed and pulled towards where that potential connection might occur. Then once it is found, what next? I have just spent my energy and time seeking this person, convinced them to fuck me, and then what? The want has been satiated.
What's next is typically the emergence of yet another want. Our days begin to become filled with the quest to satisfy this little being inside of us that must be fed, lest it becomes irritated and starts to tug at our internal strings. So for most of us, the day is a long series of want/satiate with a little sprinkle of want/disappointment. I wake, i'm hungry. I eat, i'm thirsty. I'm full, I shit. My hair is a mess, I work it. My clothes are old, I buy more. I'm hungry, I eat. I'm tired, I drink coffee.I'm wired, I get stoned. I digest, I shit. I'm bored, I I I i iiiiiiiiiiii.............
It really becomes a story of self-indulgence, all of this wanting. But you might say that you have to eat and sleep and and and, well sure of course. But what happens if we really stop taking out the wants? Pick one. Any one want and see what happens when that want comes up. Do you need it for your survival or mental health? Are you justifying that you need it just so you can have it? Does the craving go away when you don't satisfy it?
For me, refined sugar has been a kryptonite for the majority of my life. My mother has a serious sweet tooth and I adopted that trait for sure. I think most children growing up in the world today have some relationship with sugar. When that desire comes up, though, I drink water and wait 30 minutes. If the craving for sugar comes up again, I will usually drink some more water and wait again. 98% of the time that craving goes away, but the 2% that remains I usually satisfy it in someway. Not by running to 7-11 and getting the mormon family sized candy bar, but I will eat something sweet.
My point being, this life is here for us to experiment with. If we let ourselves fall into the rut that is urge satisfaction, we may just fall into a funky pit that becomes harder and harder to climb out of the further we go. Remember, though, change on this planet happens very slowly and deliberately. Have you ever sat and watched a Ponderosa grow, or stayed to see the tides change? We are no different in our quest to grow.
Tuesday, May 2, 2017
Cars as Killers
Riding, eating, sleeping. Riding, eating, sleeping. Riding, eating, sleeping. These become the basic tenets of my day, interspersed by the not-so-random occurrences of serendipity. The days sort of meld together into this infinite oneness, names of places fading into the proverbial dust i'm leaving in my wake. The urge to move forward on my journey compels me to keep pushing in moments of hunger, exhaustion, and sometimes even ordinariness.
Yet there is one thing that will stop me in my tracks every time, "roadkill." If the once living creature has been repeatedly run over by vehicles and is well on its way of reconsumption by the cycle, I won't stop, but if it is fresh, I will usually hop off my bike. I find Owls, Hawks, Coyotes, Rabbits, you name it. All having been extinguished for thrusting themselves into the age-old existential query, prompting me to ask why it was they decided to cross the road just then.
In the past few days, I have found some of the most beautiful Owls on the side of the road. Freshly struck by some speeding automobile careening towards their destiny of misunderstanding and misinterpretation. This amazingly sacred animal lost its life purely for another being's want of rapidity and immediacy.
As I stopped to pick up the Owl and place them in the tall grass alongside the road, offering prayers of a swift and effortless return to bliss, I looked around me and saw nothing but remnants of this "need for speed." The obsession is pervasive and touches all of us. I am no different, only that I have ventured to step outside of my previous conditioning to heal a deep wound inflicted upon me by the culture that came before me.
So where does it come from? How did we arrive in this almost helpless state of collectively rushing towards the edge of an ecological cliff? The more I see, the more I hear, the more I feel...it comes to me that the marriage between money and oil has created some sort of dark alchemical reaction, holding humans hostage to the lust of the curse. The thirst is insatiable. Many people look at me on a bicycle and remark how they could never do what I am doing. I always laugh with them and assure them they could, they need only start by stepping out.
But so many of the sleeping masses are unaware that they have yet to become hip. Hip to the reality that they are enslaved to an energy sucking machine, one that uses their labor and spiritual energy to hold the rest of the world hostage in a game of chicken. Wars rage on so their ease of travel to and fro can cost $2.19 a gallon, the lungs of the earth are slashed and burned so the grills can be piled high with cheap beef, mountaintops are cut and mined, radiation is pumped into the ground, rivers are dammed, and fracking becomes king...all for the images of modern day sunday slavery to be pumped mercilessly into their awaiting hypothalamus. (TV will rot your brain, Kids.)
Really, what I truly wish for is for everyone to slow the fuck down. We are not so important, people. Our journey is unfolding and all of the rushing around to do do do is really starting to bum out the rest of the soon-to-be extinct world. What do we think will happen when we reach the cliff? "G.O.D." is going to come down with his benevolent and calloused hands to build us a bridge to Zion? Maybe with our infinite wisdom and inherent awesomeness I see being touted so often, we could really collectively come up with some solutions that bring us back to earth.
Respect to all of you out there doing the work. Keep inspiring everyone you can to be their highest selves. We've all got miles to go before we sleep, miles to go...
Yet there is one thing that will stop me in my tracks every time, "roadkill." If the once living creature has been repeatedly run over by vehicles and is well on its way of reconsumption by the cycle, I won't stop, but if it is fresh, I will usually hop off my bike. I find Owls, Hawks, Coyotes, Rabbits, you name it. All having been extinguished for thrusting themselves into the age-old existential query, prompting me to ask why it was they decided to cross the road just then.
In the past few days, I have found some of the most beautiful Owls on the side of the road. Freshly struck by some speeding automobile careening towards their destiny of misunderstanding and misinterpretation. This amazingly sacred animal lost its life purely for another being's want of rapidity and immediacy.
As I stopped to pick up the Owl and place them in the tall grass alongside the road, offering prayers of a swift and effortless return to bliss, I looked around me and saw nothing but remnants of this "need for speed." The obsession is pervasive and touches all of us. I am no different, only that I have ventured to step outside of my previous conditioning to heal a deep wound inflicted upon me by the culture that came before me.
So where does it come from? How did we arrive in this almost helpless state of collectively rushing towards the edge of an ecological cliff? The more I see, the more I hear, the more I feel...it comes to me that the marriage between money and oil has created some sort of dark alchemical reaction, holding humans hostage to the lust of the curse. The thirst is insatiable. Many people look at me on a bicycle and remark how they could never do what I am doing. I always laugh with them and assure them they could, they need only start by stepping out.
But so many of the sleeping masses are unaware that they have yet to become hip. Hip to the reality that they are enslaved to an energy sucking machine, one that uses their labor and spiritual energy to hold the rest of the world hostage in a game of chicken. Wars rage on so their ease of travel to and fro can cost $2.19 a gallon, the lungs of the earth are slashed and burned so the grills can be piled high with cheap beef, mountaintops are cut and mined, radiation is pumped into the ground, rivers are dammed, and fracking becomes king...all for the images of modern day sunday slavery to be pumped mercilessly into their awaiting hypothalamus. (TV will rot your brain, Kids.)
Really, what I truly wish for is for everyone to slow the fuck down. We are not so important, people. Our journey is unfolding and all of the rushing around to do do do is really starting to bum out the rest of the soon-to-be extinct world. What do we think will happen when we reach the cliff? "G.O.D." is going to come down with his benevolent and calloused hands to build us a bridge to Zion? Maybe with our infinite wisdom and inherent awesomeness I see being touted so often, we could really collectively come up with some solutions that bring us back to earth.
Respect to all of you out there doing the work. Keep inspiring everyone you can to be their highest selves. We've all got miles to go before we sleep, miles to go...
Thursday, April 27, 2017
What will you do?
Everywhere I go, I see scars of industry, economy, culture, and the general lust for what could be. There are listless youth with nothing to do, there are burnt out elders who scowl at the world, and there are middle-somethings milling about, all running headlong toward the same cliffs of oblivion.
I wake, I pedal, I eat, I pedal, I sleep. Whenever there are people hanging out, I stop to chat. Most of the time I get nothing more than some small talk and wonder at the fact I'm riding my bike...but this is not what I seek. I want the reeeall thing. I want to get down to what's in their hearts, what they want to do, how they want to do it, what the fuck their dreams are!
But this is what I have seen thus far. People are in an endless dream of waiting. Waiting for someone to come along and gift them the magic that they may not even be asking for. Last night in Boise City, OK I met a group of High School girls who all worked at the local grocery. After getting them jazzed up on the prospect of something cool and creative happening in their town, I asked them a hypothetical question of "If someone handed you $10,000 dollars tonight, just because you're a good-hearted person, what would you do?" This question stumped all of them. One girl suggested she might travel to the Northwest, and when I told her she would have $9,600 left, she couldn't tell me what she would do with the rest.
I don't think this is because they were on the spot, or it is a broad question to ask, or even that they lack the answer. What I am coming to see is that there is an epidemic of broken spirits in this country. I can't speak for the world, but I imagine the globe is experiencing a similar outbreak of spiritlessness. As Chico, the Lawyer Warrior of Las Vegas, NM said, "There is a spiritual battle going on right now." Well, Chico, fuck yes there is. There is a deliberate attempt, not accidental, to break the spirits of people on Earth to subject them to unrelenting capital slavery.
This will not come as a surprise or even a new idea for most, but if you're not hip to it, then get hip real quick. And if you are hip then hear me now: This is the time to ignite the element of your spirit where your power resides. For me, the Wind brings me power. I create enough Fire for a few, and the Wind just fans those flames. I'm grateful to have Water and Earth around me always to bring me back and keep me steady, but I know where my power lies. It is in creation, inspiration, and change.
Why is it important for you to ignite the spiritual flame within you? Because your future and the future of all beings depends on you getting free. If one of us is chained, all of us are chained. But if you can break the chains of one, then that makes you a little more free in the process.
I don't have the script for how you can do this. I don't really have any methods, because they will all be unique to your journey, but what I can suggest is that if you know any young people, inspire the hell out of them. This doesn't happen by words either. This happens by deeds. Do something to make a young person's life brighter and more hopeful and you make us all more free. Try it and see if i'm bullshitting with you.
For the truth is, if you're reading this, you're probably in or around the age of 30 and the time for you to be passing the torch is coming up. Don't hold it like the generations who came before, pass it off to those who you have given the tools of creativity, love, and spirit to.
I'm writing this from Elkhart, KS right now. A place with hopelessness in its streets. Don't let the world die just because you didn't know how to live.
I wake, I pedal, I eat, I pedal, I sleep. Whenever there are people hanging out, I stop to chat. Most of the time I get nothing more than some small talk and wonder at the fact I'm riding my bike...but this is not what I seek. I want the reeeall thing. I want to get down to what's in their hearts, what they want to do, how they want to do it, what the fuck their dreams are!
But this is what I have seen thus far. People are in an endless dream of waiting. Waiting for someone to come along and gift them the magic that they may not even be asking for. Last night in Boise City, OK I met a group of High School girls who all worked at the local grocery. After getting them jazzed up on the prospect of something cool and creative happening in their town, I asked them a hypothetical question of "If someone handed you $10,000 dollars tonight, just because you're a good-hearted person, what would you do?" This question stumped all of them. One girl suggested she might travel to the Northwest, and when I told her she would have $9,600 left, she couldn't tell me what she would do with the rest.
I don't think this is because they were on the spot, or it is a broad question to ask, or even that they lack the answer. What I am coming to see is that there is an epidemic of broken spirits in this country. I can't speak for the world, but I imagine the globe is experiencing a similar outbreak of spiritlessness. As Chico, the Lawyer Warrior of Las Vegas, NM said, "There is a spiritual battle going on right now." Well, Chico, fuck yes there is. There is a deliberate attempt, not accidental, to break the spirits of people on Earth to subject them to unrelenting capital slavery.
This will not come as a surprise or even a new idea for most, but if you're not hip to it, then get hip real quick. And if you are hip then hear me now: This is the time to ignite the element of your spirit where your power resides. For me, the Wind brings me power. I create enough Fire for a few, and the Wind just fans those flames. I'm grateful to have Water and Earth around me always to bring me back and keep me steady, but I know where my power lies. It is in creation, inspiration, and change.
Why is it important for you to ignite the spiritual flame within you? Because your future and the future of all beings depends on you getting free. If one of us is chained, all of us are chained. But if you can break the chains of one, then that makes you a little more free in the process.
I don't have the script for how you can do this. I don't really have any methods, because they will all be unique to your journey, but what I can suggest is that if you know any young people, inspire the hell out of them. This doesn't happen by words either. This happens by deeds. Do something to make a young person's life brighter and more hopeful and you make us all more free. Try it and see if i'm bullshitting with you.
For the truth is, if you're reading this, you're probably in or around the age of 30 and the time for you to be passing the torch is coming up. Don't hold it like the generations who came before, pass it off to those who you have given the tools of creativity, love, and spirit to.
I'm writing this from Elkhart, KS right now. A place with hopelessness in its streets. Don't let the world die just because you didn't know how to live.
Friday, March 24, 2017
What Dreams Do Bring
In Albuquerque, Dave called me Chad the Dreamer. I thought it was a funny name and one that I fully accept and own. I am a dreamer. I always have been. My entire life I have seen countless examples of what it looks like when people stop dreaming and "come back to reality." Whenever I meet someone who was taught to abandon their dreams for a pragmatic reality, well, it breaks my heart. A life without dreams is like dinner without salt. Tasteless and bland, not to mention detrimental to your health.
Well, I haven't ever abandoned my dreams. I live by them, follow my heart in every step and will never stop until my heart quits beating. Then knowing me, I will keep the vision alive through whatever realm I start flying around.
My dream, since I was around 13 or 14, was of a small village somewhere in the world. It definitely was not where I am from because it didn't have paved roads, no telephone wires, small circular huts, and brown-skinned women and children running, playing, working, and laughing. I would sometimes just be viewing the scene and other times I would see myself as an old man among them. It always felt beautiful and real.
I have in the meantime traveled, met amazing people, and honed my vision of what is possible in this world. I have also met someone who has become a brother of mine in the world, another peaceful warrior amidst a chaotic reality. Lale Labuko is from Ethiopia and has been a champion for peace and compassion for over a decade, having saved almost 50 lives of children who would otherwise have been killed. Today him and his wife, along with a staff of workers, take care of these children in every aspect of their life. Lale has 2 kids, soon to be 3 of his own, but when asked says he has 50 children.
Today I awoke from a dream and knew that I needed to be in Ethiopia as soon as possible. But this is not the point of this post. I am not begging for help through my words, because I KNOW that Great Mystery has a plan and I am walking through the gates opened for me. All will be provided.
Why I am writing this is about THE DREAMS. If you're not following your dream at this point, if you're living for a paycheck that takes more from you than it gives, if you're working to pay for the things that leave you more empty than you were before, and if you wake up with cold chills from dreams that haunt you...then there is literally no time like now to do something about it.
Don't worry about the details. All you need do is step through that door in your spirit, climb up through your heart, and look out your forehead to see which direction to choose. Don't second guess it. Just step into it. Your arrival is your ticket.
I can't tell you how unbelievably important it is to be living within your power right now. The world needs you. Seriously. Everyone around you will be better for it when you decide to live within the dream.
Now, some might say, "Chad, isn't it foolish to live in the dream when so much real stuff is going on around us? Isn't it selfish to be dreaming while everyone is suffering?" Is it fair to the world for you to be suffering while you're sleeping, suffering while you're awake? Imposing your suffering onto everyone else around you because you aren't happy with where you are? Stop making excuses and using the rest of the world as a scapegoat. The world will not be free until you are free.
I can't give you a blueprint, but one thing I have found is that traveling by bike is ONE way to get closer to the dream. There are so many ways and you have to find yours. I can tell you that if you're not feeling it, then you're not doing it. The moment that feeling of weightlessness comes, when you are brought to tears by a cloud, when the kindness of another shows you the deep scar you have over your heart, and when you can't walk past another person suffering without reaching out your hand...then you will have arrived at the station. Just board the train. Don't make an excuse as to what else you've got to do. Just board that train.
Maybe my words fail already because the experience is so personal, or maybe you're reading this and planning your escape. I encourage everyone to follow their heart. Every moment. The next you hear from me, I will be getting cradled by Mama Africa. Connect the global struggle. If Africa no free, no native no free, no river no free, no woman no free, whole world no free.
Well, I haven't ever abandoned my dreams. I live by them, follow my heart in every step and will never stop until my heart quits beating. Then knowing me, I will keep the vision alive through whatever realm I start flying around.
My dream, since I was around 13 or 14, was of a small village somewhere in the world. It definitely was not where I am from because it didn't have paved roads, no telephone wires, small circular huts, and brown-skinned women and children running, playing, working, and laughing. I would sometimes just be viewing the scene and other times I would see myself as an old man among them. It always felt beautiful and real.
I have in the meantime traveled, met amazing people, and honed my vision of what is possible in this world. I have also met someone who has become a brother of mine in the world, another peaceful warrior amidst a chaotic reality. Lale Labuko is from Ethiopia and has been a champion for peace and compassion for over a decade, having saved almost 50 lives of children who would otherwise have been killed. Today him and his wife, along with a staff of workers, take care of these children in every aspect of their life. Lale has 2 kids, soon to be 3 of his own, but when asked says he has 50 children.
Today I awoke from a dream and knew that I needed to be in Ethiopia as soon as possible. But this is not the point of this post. I am not begging for help through my words, because I KNOW that Great Mystery has a plan and I am walking through the gates opened for me. All will be provided.
Why I am writing this is about THE DREAMS. If you're not following your dream at this point, if you're living for a paycheck that takes more from you than it gives, if you're working to pay for the things that leave you more empty than you were before, and if you wake up with cold chills from dreams that haunt you...then there is literally no time like now to do something about it.
Don't worry about the details. All you need do is step through that door in your spirit, climb up through your heart, and look out your forehead to see which direction to choose. Don't second guess it. Just step into it. Your arrival is your ticket.
I can't tell you how unbelievably important it is to be living within your power right now. The world needs you. Seriously. Everyone around you will be better for it when you decide to live within the dream.
Now, some might say, "Chad, isn't it foolish to live in the dream when so much real stuff is going on around us? Isn't it selfish to be dreaming while everyone is suffering?" Is it fair to the world for you to be suffering while you're sleeping, suffering while you're awake? Imposing your suffering onto everyone else around you because you aren't happy with where you are? Stop making excuses and using the rest of the world as a scapegoat. The world will not be free until you are free.
I can't give you a blueprint, but one thing I have found is that traveling by bike is ONE way to get closer to the dream. There are so many ways and you have to find yours. I can tell you that if you're not feeling it, then you're not doing it. The moment that feeling of weightlessness comes, when you are brought to tears by a cloud, when the kindness of another shows you the deep scar you have over your heart, and when you can't walk past another person suffering without reaching out your hand...then you will have arrived at the station. Just board the train. Don't make an excuse as to what else you've got to do. Just board that train.
Maybe my words fail already because the experience is so personal, or maybe you're reading this and planning your escape. I encourage everyone to follow their heart. Every moment. The next you hear from me, I will be getting cradled by Mama Africa. Connect the global struggle. If Africa no free, no native no free, no river no free, no woman no free, whole world no free.
Wednesday, March 8, 2017
/wēd/
weed
wēd/
noun
- 1.a wild plant growing where it is not wanted and in competition with cultivated plants.
verb
- 1.remove unwanted plants from (an area of ground or the plants cultivated in it).
"I was weeding a flower bed"
My time in Mexico was amazing, blissful, and educational. I learned heaps about the differences between our cultures, and especially the generosity that exists North and South of the arbitrary border. I went to Mexico with maybe $300 in my pocket, which is a lot for me, and even more when the exchange is 20 to 1. The exchange, however, allowed me to give my money more freely than I may have thought possible here with giving dollars. I was able to buy a roof for a friend's house, get some bikes for some kids, build a compost system, and then just hook random people up with a bunch of cash.
In this whole process I forgot that I would be returning to the U.S. and had a 2,500 mile bike ride ahead of me. I crossed the border with 400 pesos in my wallet, which when I exchanged it with a fellow here it turned into $20 USD. So here I was in Arizona with enough money for about two days of regular frugal living. I am pretty resourceful, so dumpsters are groovy, folks are generous when asked, and intelligence plus good timing can amount to a lot sometimes. Regardless, I needed to make a repair on the bike and had to ship a box of stuff home, which in the end requires some greenbacks.
I made it to Safford, AZ where I inquired with some folks about part-time work and ended up getting a gig pulling some weeds at a rental property. Since I was a kid, pulling weeds has been one of my least favorite activities. As I have grown and have learned systems of plant stewardship and have developed a system that makes sense to me, pulling weeds has become even more absurd in my eyes. Yet, when you've gotta make moves in the world sometimes we have to do stuff we don't exactly love. The redeeming factor in the pulling of the weeds is that my host Jay is going to come collect the green waste, chip it and turn it into compost. So not all is lost in the immediate act.
But as I was pulling these plants from the place they chose to grow, knowing they would positively effect the ecology of that particular location, a piece of me reached the end of its tolerance. That piece is the world's misunderstanding of the word Weed and the huge effects that has on the planet. I wrote a paper in school about the Dandelion, prompted by the school's practice of weed management against the beloved medicinal plant, which I will post in conjunction with this essay. My feelings around the misconception of weeds has only become more resolved and possibly more urgent now.
What is a weed? The definition above says it is an unwanted plant, but I would argue strongly that it is only unwanted because it is misunderstood. I think currently the metaphor of immigrants could be placed in here and draw the same conclusion. Do we want to eradicate immigrants from this country, Natives, Africans, Latinos as well because they are in competition to the cultivated culture of White America, or is the culture of these people just misunderstood and thus rejected by the cultivated "majority'? I know farmers who couldn't identify more than a dozen plants, a dozen being a high number, yet they know they need to eradicate that unknown plant asap because it is stealing nutrients from their crops?
The truth is that every plant, in my eyes is a blessing and can be utilized to create fertility and balance when diversity may be lacking. The "weed" growing next to your tomatoes, sure, it might be pulling nutrients away from the soil that the tomatoes could be grasping, but how many people in the world then spray round up on the weed, or pull it and take it to the burn pile to eradicate it? This is so common it is mind numbing. Rather than pulling that plant, or nuking it, stop and think about this for a moment. That plant spent all of that time pulling nutrients from the air and soil so create roots, stalk, leaves, flowers, seeds, etc. It worked tirelessly to convert raw materials into green matter. It has captured those nutrients into its being and concentrated them right there next to that tomato. What if you cut the stalk, laid it down next to the tomato and let those nutrients drop right down to where the tomato can eat it? The roots become worm food and a channel for water and air to have access to the microbes.
This all seems so simple, but I have encountered so many people who find this to be as foreign to them as chicharon. A story: I was in Boulder, CO chilling with Pfrangenstein and wanted to help out around the house while I was staying. There was this little garden in the backyard with a Buddha statue, so I thought that would be a great place to start the new vibration. It was full of thistle that had just started to flower so I knew it was a perfect time to chop and drop the plants to achieve a high level of nutrient conversion and at the same time add a big shock to the plants in hopes that a succession of something else could be planted and take over the space.
I cut all of the thistle back and laid them right where they grew, the next step would be to plant some seeds around and maybe lay a little compost down if it was available. Well, the homeowner Greg came home and immediately questioned why I did what I did. I explained the thought process and the science behind it, but I could tell he wasn't really listening. At the end of my explanation he said something to the effect that his house wasn't a farm so my idea wasn't going to work out. He didn't want it looking that way. Certainly, Greg, considering you had 3-foot-tall thistle growing in your garden. But I knew what he was getting at. Another slave to the aesthetic, and that IS the largest issue with why folks even have a perception of something called a "weed."
When your aesthetic is based upon a limited understanding of plants, maybe 4 plants that belong in a landscape, of course everything else would be a threat to that aesthetic. So we spray Agent Orange on our lawns where kids play, let it run into clean waterways, all for the aesthetic. I know the frustration is coming out in my words, good. I think if you're reading this and not completely enraged about the unwillingness to examine our systematic destruction of the ecological bubble we need for survival, then I suggest suicide, because your complacency is creating matricide.
Next time you see the goon in the truck spraying Round-Up at guardrails, say something. Next time you see your neighbor treating his lawn with weed-be-gone, do something. Take a tomato over and have him sprinkle some on it and ask if he'd like a bite. If he says no, then perhaps you could move into a conversation as to why the heck it's utterly idiotic to sprinkle that stuff anywhere on this planet. If we continue to lay down to the destruction of our planet, then we won't have one.
Been feeling sick recently? This will only get worse people. Our planet has a cold, it might catch a flu soon, and what happens if it gets pneumonia? The word Weed is simple, but its effects are catastrophic. Every plant is sacred and every plant gives a gift. Chances are you're pulling up food or medicine, so think about that one when you've made up your mind it is an invasive plant in your landscape. The only invasive organism I've ever met walks on two legs and looks around like it's lost in its own landscape...
Below is the Essay from a few years back on the Dandelion. Enjoy.
Friday, March 3, 2017
No Maps, Just Naps
When traveling in a manner where you are the pilot, it is generally helpful to know where you're going. But what if already knew where you were going, you just needed to practice finding the way?
The conversation around travel by plane and car and how rapid and disconnected they are has come up a lot recently. I meet so many folks who feel completely helpless in their options to move without a petroleum based option.
The squad and I have coined the term "slow travel" in hopes of engendering a radically different culture around traveling. Moving slowly has undeniable virtues over rapid movement. It allows for so much more flexibility and openness,, giving you the freedom to stop and take it just what's in that very moment. But this is well known and hopefully obvious at this point.
What I'm getting towards requires a little more of an open mind to grasp. The map, a tool of so many intrepid explorers before me, a simple piece of paper that holds mountains of information. This is the go to when you're trying to plan a trip of any sort. You map a course and proceed to follow it with diligence.
Yet, is it possible to travel without a map and still get to where you need to go? What happens if you take a wrong turn? What happens if you push your bike hours down an arroyo only to realize you need to turn around? What happens if you get lost? Well, what happens?
The answer for me thus far has been to stop, find shade, hydrate, eat a snack and take a nap. When i wake from my peaceful slumber I will still be lost, but at the very least I will be rested and ready to double back and find another way.
I'll find my way eventually, and perhaps some light will be lost in the quest, if you're worried about counting hours, but if you can shift your perspective and see that being lost is just a perception then those hours won't be lost in the end.
I'm not advising to throw away your maps, or even hint that maps are a bad thing. They're cool and fun as heck to look at, but what I am advocating is to get lost and allow yourself to work through the process of getting lost. It's possible you might come to the conclusion that you're exactly where you should be. Stay wild, get woke, slow down.
The conversation around travel by plane and car and how rapid and disconnected they are has come up a lot recently. I meet so many folks who feel completely helpless in their options to move without a petroleum based option.
The squad and I have coined the term "slow travel" in hopes of engendering a radically different culture around traveling. Moving slowly has undeniable virtues over rapid movement. It allows for so much more flexibility and openness,, giving you the freedom to stop and take it just what's in that very moment. But this is well known and hopefully obvious at this point.
What I'm getting towards requires a little more of an open mind to grasp. The map, a tool of so many intrepid explorers before me, a simple piece of paper that holds mountains of information. This is the go to when you're trying to plan a trip of any sort. You map a course and proceed to follow it with diligence.
Yet, is it possible to travel without a map and still get to where you need to go? What happens if you take a wrong turn? What happens if you push your bike hours down an arroyo only to realize you need to turn around? What happens if you get lost? Well, what happens?
The answer for me thus far has been to stop, find shade, hydrate, eat a snack and take a nap. When i wake from my peaceful slumber I will still be lost, but at the very least I will be rested and ready to double back and find another way.
I'll find my way eventually, and perhaps some light will be lost in the quest, if you're worried about counting hours, but if you can shift your perspective and see that being lost is just a perception then those hours won't be lost in the end.
I'm not advising to throw away your maps, or even hint that maps are a bad thing. They're cool and fun as heck to look at, but what I am advocating is to get lost and allow yourself to work through the process of getting lost. It's possible you might come to the conclusion that you're exactly where you should be. Stay wild, get woke, slow down.
Saturday, February 18, 2017
Expand, Always Expand
It´s been a minute. So much has happened but i´ll keep it real brief.
If you wake to find
That all you had known was wrong
Collapse or Expand?
Mexico is the truth. I´ve been a little more stationary than I intended but it has allowed me to see some pretty amazing truths in this land. Neo-Colonialism is alive and well, economic oppression of natives and brown people is alive and well. So i´m going to do my work, shine my light, and strengthen these communities with all the elements at my disposal.
Holler in email or instagram if you looked at your bank account recently and felt badly for having too much. I know some folks who might use it.
One love.
Saturday, January 28, 2017
Pinche Muro
This post is to be brief, because the concept I want to unfold is a simple one. If you can pontificate on its validity after you've finished reading then I urge you to stop thinking because that is surely sending you down the wrong path. This is a matter for the heart. Are you ready?
When you look at a map, drawn all across it are lines, some based on natural contour and others are merely angular and arbitrary. No matter what they look like, they are pure illusion. What is a border? Is it a real place? Maybe when someone has built a wall of fence it might make the illusion more tangible, but nevertheless that wall is still a creation of someone's dimented perception of the world. Ownership is a perception, one that implies power over people and power over planet. It forces people to be across the fence, making them someone else. An other.
Riding the train from New Orleans to Tucson, we passed Ciudad Juarez and folks were talking about how "those people" don't deserve to come here. How "they" exploit our education system and hospitals. How disgusting it is for "those" pregnant women to have their children here so they can gain citizenship. When I questioned them simply about their family's heritage and how they came to live in the U.S., they didn't seem able to make the correlation. When I asked them if they could imagine what someone must be going through to make the deadly trek to cross an arbitrary border in a land that they are originally from, they seemed incapable of empathy or perspective.
Waking up in Mexico, hearing a language I am not well versed in all around me, different smells and tastes everywhere, and somewhere that I am a drastic minority...I am filled with the feeling of love and gratitude. How can I look into someone's eyes, into their heart and see anyone but the reflection of me? You may say, "That's an awfully sentimental perspective. It's not how the world really works." I say shut your mouth hole and stop the story that you think you know something. If you're still convinced that there is a difference between a person and yourself because Colonialist drew a pinche border, then you're lost.
If you don't feel that way and you are someone whose heart is open to those around the world, then you cannot in good conscience sit and watch the destruction of your brothers and sisters any longer. If you don't act with all of your power NOW, then watch it fall apart in front of you. And get ready for that same destruction to come your way.
No muros, nunca. Liberate your mind and the borders mean nothing. One love.n
When you look at a map, drawn all across it are lines, some based on natural contour and others are merely angular and arbitrary. No matter what they look like, they are pure illusion. What is a border? Is it a real place? Maybe when someone has built a wall of fence it might make the illusion more tangible, but nevertheless that wall is still a creation of someone's dimented perception of the world. Ownership is a perception, one that implies power over people and power over planet. It forces people to be across the fence, making them someone else. An other.
Riding the train from New Orleans to Tucson, we passed Ciudad Juarez and folks were talking about how "those people" don't deserve to come here. How "they" exploit our education system and hospitals. How disgusting it is for "those" pregnant women to have their children here so they can gain citizenship. When I questioned them simply about their family's heritage and how they came to live in the U.S., they didn't seem able to make the correlation. When I asked them if they could imagine what someone must be going through to make the deadly trek to cross an arbitrary border in a land that they are originally from, they seemed incapable of empathy or perspective.
Waking up in Mexico, hearing a language I am not well versed in all around me, different smells and tastes everywhere, and somewhere that I am a drastic minority...I am filled with the feeling of love and gratitude. How can I look into someone's eyes, into their heart and see anyone but the reflection of me? You may say, "That's an awfully sentimental perspective. It's not how the world really works." I say shut your mouth hole and stop the story that you think you know something. If you're still convinced that there is a difference between a person and yourself because Colonialist drew a pinche border, then you're lost.
If you don't feel that way and you are someone whose heart is open to those around the world, then you cannot in good conscience sit and watch the destruction of your brothers and sisters any longer. If you don't act with all of your power NOW, then watch it fall apart in front of you. And get ready for that same destruction to come your way.
No muros, nunca. Liberate your mind and the borders mean nothing. One love.n
Saturday, January 14, 2017
Purchased Power
Perhaps it is the company I currently keep, or maybe it is truly where the climate of society is, regardless, I hear on a regular basis how upset and scared folks are about the political and social devolution we are apparently going through at the moment. From utter disbelief to straight up anger, I hear negativity exiting people's mouths on the daily.
The negative cycle of emotions and the expression into the world has interested me, disturbed me, and startled me when I find myself in similar cycles, so I have really tried to dissect what it is all about in order to possibly find some medicine to help heal it. Ignoring the disgusting behavior we see isn't the answer, fighting it with violence feels alright for a while but serves to fuel it in the end, and acknowledging it in order to transform it ends up sucking the life force right from us.
This is not to say that when we come together and create direct actions as collectives, we can't stop violence against the earth and people. That, to me, is a moment of expression that can be largely positive in its results, but truly teeters on the balance of everyone in the collective having the highest spiritual intentions to break the cycle that is directly in front of them. There are also those select opportunities when individually we are presented with the chance to open our hearts and singularly take on someone or something who is attempting to draw on existing negative cycles. These moments should be cherished and stepped into with all of your spirit.
What I am talking about, however, is the day to day. When we are with the homies, the family, or just some rando on the train. When conversation descends to the basic levels of "the bullshit around us." Here is where, IMHO, we have a chance to do the most radical work in our lives. Self work. Because in the end, the work we do on ourselves defines the vibrations we express into the world. This is one of the basic tenets of Eastern Philosophy and Spirituality, as well as many under-appreciated Western schools of thought. Heal yourself, heal the world. Right, this is basic. But when we really look at it, how complex can it really become in our daily symphony of expression?
First, step into the realm of modern Violent-Capitalism. Small groups of individuals who sit at the top of corporate pyramids derive their power from millions of unsuspecting consumers who make up the foundation of the pyramid. For instance, Tide detergent, one of many products sold by the parent company Procter and Gamble, which is a volatile and toxic substance and belongs nowhere near humans, animals, land or waterways. Yet, P&G, who netted over 80 billion dollars in 2014, doesn't need to care about any of that. The power comes from the money. Reason would say, however, that if folks didn't buy P&Gs products, they would no longer have the power to manipulate markets, force child labor in other countries, and pollute the entire earth.
Set the same stage, the same players and props, but change the title from Violent-Capitalism to Patriarchal-Politics. Power is derived from the bottom, and in reality their power is derived from the masses buying into their products, whether that be ideas or tangible products since most politicians are major players in corporations like P&G. We allow hate-mongers and war-profiteers to become powerful even when we hate them. Love is as empowering as hate, so choose your tool.
I know this becomes abstract in thought, but in action it really does become crystal clear. The next time the feeling arrises to say something hateful about a far away fool, remember how useless it is to spend your energy that way. Breath through it, and let it go. The big scary monster that has got you all worked up may just melt away in front of your eyes. We truly can redefine the world through love, and it will most definitely be a hard road, but that's the point! We are the ones who can handle it, so we chose it.
Please don't misinterpret what i've said for being complacent and just letting fools have free reign. Let me be very clear. To take power away from those who cannot handle it, we must stop giving them power. Figure out piece by piece how to decolonize your life, and when you've stopped buying their products, their ideas, and falling into their traps again and again, maybe then we can call ourselves free.
The negative cycle of emotions and the expression into the world has interested me, disturbed me, and startled me when I find myself in similar cycles, so I have really tried to dissect what it is all about in order to possibly find some medicine to help heal it. Ignoring the disgusting behavior we see isn't the answer, fighting it with violence feels alright for a while but serves to fuel it in the end, and acknowledging it in order to transform it ends up sucking the life force right from us.
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| Da Fuck? |
What I am talking about, however, is the day to day. When we are with the homies, the family, or just some rando on the train. When conversation descends to the basic levels of "the bullshit around us." Here is where, IMHO, we have a chance to do the most radical work in our lives. Self work. Because in the end, the work we do on ourselves defines the vibrations we express into the world. This is one of the basic tenets of Eastern Philosophy and Spirituality, as well as many under-appreciated Western schools of thought. Heal yourself, heal the world. Right, this is basic. But when we really look at it, how complex can it really become in our daily symphony of expression?
First, step into the realm of modern Violent-Capitalism. Small groups of individuals who sit at the top of corporate pyramids derive their power from millions of unsuspecting consumers who make up the foundation of the pyramid. For instance, Tide detergent, one of many products sold by the parent company Procter and Gamble, which is a volatile and toxic substance and belongs nowhere near humans, animals, land or waterways. Yet, P&G, who netted over 80 billion dollars in 2014, doesn't need to care about any of that. The power comes from the money. Reason would say, however, that if folks didn't buy P&Gs products, they would no longer have the power to manipulate markets, force child labor in other countries, and pollute the entire earth.
 |
| Slash and Burn Palm Oil Production |
I know this becomes abstract in thought, but in action it really does become crystal clear. The next time the feeling arrises to say something hateful about a far away fool, remember how useless it is to spend your energy that way. Breath through it, and let it go. The big scary monster that has got you all worked up may just melt away in front of your eyes. We truly can redefine the world through love, and it will most definitely be a hard road, but that's the point! We are the ones who can handle it, so we chose it.
Please don't misinterpret what i've said for being complacent and just letting fools have free reign. Let me be very clear. To take power away from those who cannot handle it, we must stop giving them power. Figure out piece by piece how to decolonize your life, and when you've stopped buying their products, their ideas, and falling into their traps again and again, maybe then we can call ourselves free.
Tuesday, December 27, 2016
Global Garden: Sowing Seeds
In the past few weeks, more people than I can remember have made the analogy of sowing seeds throughout this world. I know that nothing is chance in this lifetime, so it was definitely for me to digest, or I guess a better way to put it would be that I had to let those seeds germinate within me. Carlos in Memphis who sleeps on a sidewalk with a twinkle in his eyes, told me that our mission in life is to sprinkle as many seeds around the world as we can and just hope that some of those germinate into beautiful ideas that ripple through time. I wholeheartedly agree.
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| Image from Guerrilla Gardener's Blog |
The thought really burst out of the proverbial soil after we spent an evening with the Judd's imbibing spirits of all shapes and sizes, talking about the spectrum of existence, and ending the evening with how a household can find balance in the masculine and feminine, ensuring a positive upbringing for their spirited child. There were some suggestions, many settling on material surroundings, and mostly because I think there weren't any good answers at the time. It was still very much a question, which is a seed right? The conversation that Bex and I were having on the way home began with the topic of goddess worship and who is a groovy deity to begin worshipping. We settled on our physical mothers being a great place to start and that spiraled into the comparison of Gaia to Mother Earth.
I made the case that Mother Earth has been reduced to this inanimate surface we walk upon, some of us acknowledging her sacred nature, while others just refer casually to the rock as Mother Earth. Gaia, however, has the connotation of a holistic living being, encompassing the many facets that make up the whole being. Gaia is you as much as the snale as much as the seed. Words, I know, but if we are to dissect the misunderstandings and lethargy of spirit that is currently pandemic, then we've got to get to the root. Spontaneously in that moment, the reflection on twenty-nine years lived upon Gaia and all that I see before me, the people in my life, the bounty, the struggles, etc., it all just fit together into this amazing puzzle. Bang! The fruits I enjoy are literally the manifestation of the seeds I have sown throughout my life!
Moments when we are in deep communion and understanding with a friend or family member, that isn't because of some random aligning of the stars. It is because someone, or maybe many people, yourself included, had sown some seed in some time and that seed or seeds germinated. Thus, a true moment is born. If you have ever worked with kids, had kids, known a kid, then you have probably said or done something in front of them that took root and grew into a piece of them. If you smoke and drink and cuss and don't give a shit, watch that seed sprout and grow the mangled roots in those young eyes watching you. If you love, respect, praise, and give...watch that same set of young eyes grow into a caring and nurturing soul, with rocket fuel for a spirit. It's not accidental how this goes down.
A garden does not plant itself. A meadow, forest, plains, they can shift themselves over time without any help from humans, but a garden is very much a human idea and contrivance. It is a positive one, though. Mr. Rogers said "You can grow ideas in the garden of your mind." The mind/body/spirit is no different from the garden you plant outside in the dirt. If love, care and attention are put into the garden, plants with flourish and bounty will be rendered. If it is neglected and put lower on the priority list under TV and masturbating, my guess is you're going to have a rather underperforming garden.
Patience is another tenet of this philosophical wandering. Seeds don't germinate and grow into huge Ponderosa Pines overnight. They take decades, hundreds of years! So you put a beautiful idea into the world and you see nothing from it tomorrow!?! Relax. The best things take time, and who knows, maybe that idea doesn't germinate and take shape until you're dead and gone. Will that prevent you from sowing the seed? This life, yes it is for you. Yes it is about your spiritual growth and enlightenment. But the you is not you. You are merely a plant in the global garden. So let go of the ego, settle into your insignificance, and remember you were always who you were meant to be.
From the perspective of permaculture, it seems to make simple sense. Put in the work TODAY to start prepping that soil, sow the best seeds at the best times, and get that garden moving in the direction you see as beautiful. Maybe when you're old and gray, children and neighbors and friends and animals and spirits will wander into your garden to grab a bite, or maybe just catch some shade from the wild world they're living in. Seems like a better scenario than eating dust and Spam.
Thursday, December 22, 2016
Ruby Slipper
The perfect job. The perfect dress. The perfect haircut. The perfect house. The perfect husband. The perfect body. The perfect breakfast. The perfect words. The perfect car. The perfect song. The perfect pretty piece of pie. And it's all mine.
Well, I don't know about any of you out, but I have never in my pursuit of happiness encountered anything that was in itself, perfect. There are most definitely things that happen, or resources that pop up at the perfect time, objects that are perfect in that time...but there is nothing in this whole world that is perfect. Most cultures around the world who have deep roots in reality and the natural world don't even have a word for perfection. It is an intellectual pursuit, not an emotional or spiritual understanding. We place objects and ideas on a pedestal, just like in a museum, so we can stand back to analyze, critique, and idealize what potential this thing has.
Let me tell a little story to start. I found myself in New Orleans after a considerable trek across this country, having seen some incredible highs and some unbelievable lows. So many of the highs we experienced were based on people's pursuit of authenticity, whereas the lows were almost always connected with the romanticized pursuit of perfection. Mini-malls and shopping complexes covering the land to curate the perfect shopping experience, so those living nearby would never have to run into the pesky beast of discomfort, which for them would be the perception of poverty. The ironic thing being that the suburbs and urban sprawl, a faux-middle class, are the very mechanisms that create poverty and homelessness. Looking into the eyes of women who literally put on a mask to step out into a world that tells them they have to look and act a certain way, just like those pretty perfect faces in magazines and on billboards, in movies and shows everywhere. So folks start selling out their own health and wellness for the perfect.
Our stay in New Orleans was shaping up to be an amazing time, staying at the India House hostel, which was incredible and the place to be, music happening organically everywhere we carried instruments, conversation springing up from the cracks in the ground, and a high vibration unlike many places in this world. We took the trolly downtown on a Thursday night into the French Quarter, popping into clubs and bars to go and find the sound. We caught a solid female-fronted reggae band, great Jazz and Funk, some good Blues, street corner Hip-Hop-Truth-Fire, and sounds pouring out from every nook and cranny. With the night getting pretty late, 2 or 3am, we hopped into our last stop where we found a very normal funk band who were at least holding it down. A cat got up and belted Superstitious by Stevie Wonder and ended the set on a good note for sure.
Leaving and thinking our night was coming to a close, somewhat disappointedly, one of the ladies we were with forgot her phone in the club and had to go back for it. When you start losing shit, that's when doors really open up. They came back and informed us that we had all been invited to come chill at a tucked in spot with a heated pool and salt water hot tub. Of course. So we all roll over to the spot and are met by an incredibly interesting little corner of the city, with a fire pit and groovy pool, open bar, and decent sound system. Good vibes, plus rarely do we ever say no to a tripped out experience.
Just about that time, in perfect synchronicity, the fella with the spliff comes over and asks me if I liked the song Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds. I said of course, and all my friends do too in fact. So we all took a moment to sing the song together, embrace the love in it all, and cut through the remainder of the veil with that gentle and beautiful liquid sword. So for the next couple of hours, we all talked about the heart inside of everything, our divine purpose for being there, and how beautiful it feels to be in love with love and life. I found the difference between me and decadent even melted away, and rather than looking at it as the enemy, it just became part of the process. A step on the journey, something to get beyond. The murderer becoming the saint after realizing what an awful course they have led, but if they were never the murderer they could never have been the saint. You dig? The folks indulging, the difference and whatever anger I was feeling towards them was escaping me. Truth inside of everything is divine, the walls we put between us and it are matters of perception.
The souls in the courtyard were speaking loud and clear now as well. Having tuned into the voices beyond, there was really one resounding sentiment, which was that no matter how much the uncomfortable men of this world try to pave over, sterilize, and clean away the diverse and deep culture of the world...it will always spring through the cracks in their pavement. Every time. But they also implored me to spread the word that there is a sickness in this world. And it is the need to run from the real. I mean, that's it, right? Mini-malls, make-up, fast cars, big houses, security systems, pop music, microwavable food, etc. etc. These things, in themselves, are acts of running. Covering. Keeping the truth of feeling just out of arms reach.
As the sun started to come up, we decided it was probably best to move on, so we packed up and jumped out of the little vortex we had been chilling in, back to the city streets of Nawlins. Countless delivery trucks with alcohol and far-away food, black and brown men toiling, tired eyes looking right through me, trash barges, trains filled with oil, garbage on river shores. The shadow that is the pursuit of perfection, it is all around us. Walk anywhere in this country and you will see the result of our collective need for comfort. I am certainly by no means exempt from this. I don't know many people who are. If you drive a car, shop at the grocery, buy clothes at the store, order products online, whatever it may be...that simple action imposes degradation on the remainder of the world solely so we can curate and manicure the perfect life. Look at it. Don't roll your eyes.
Our story really peaks at Cafe Du Monde. There was a gal in our group that with the best intentions wanted to go have a Cafe and Beignets at the spot. The rest of the group was a bit apprehensive, me actually trying to steer us away, but we were supposed to purge something. So we jumped in. Sitting down, the waitress asked if we wanted six coffees and beignets, which we all promptly replied that there was only one order. You could see our friend and the waitress were in an awkward growth moment, but se la vie. Coffee and Beignet arrived, or awful acrid juice and funnel cake really. I could see the wheels were turning in her heart, and this little fairy tale about what the perfect New Orleans experience is supposed to be was slipping through her hands like sand. As a Buddha I met living on the streets of Springfield once told me, "You can't go around an experience, brother. You've got to go through it."
After it was all settled, the discomfort passed, we all said jah bless and most of us parted ways. Will, our Aztec spirit-guide Larissa, and myself decided that we needed some more low key people watching, so our journey finished up at a spot called the Ruby Slipper. Ha! We sat down and just kind of unpacked the evening, talked about our need to be closer with our spirit and purpose, the divinity of the feminine, and ultimately just laughing our faces off about the comedy unfolding constantly in front of us. But my reflection at the end of it all is this:
Our pursuit of perfection, the need to fulfill a conditioned fairy tale....not only does this degrade our own spirit and purpose, taking us further and further from our personal truth, it also imposes a radically destructive culture onto the rest of this world. Ecological collapse is upon us because we can't step outside of our fairy tale. Life has to look like this and I am willing to do whatever it takes to get there. If you sit in silence and think about how so much of what surrounds you is part of the story you've created, then follow that to the cost upon someone else's shoulders that your wants create, it becomes quite transparent that our dreams turn other people's lives into nightmares.
Let go of the story in your mind and sit in the absolute now. Piece by piece you will shed the wants and get down to the needs. Besides, the less time you spend wanting, the more time you can devote to giving. Tis the season, right?
Well, I don't know about any of you out, but I have never in my pursuit of happiness encountered anything that was in itself, perfect. There are most definitely things that happen, or resources that pop up at the perfect time, objects that are perfect in that time...but there is nothing in this whole world that is perfect. Most cultures around the world who have deep roots in reality and the natural world don't even have a word for perfection. It is an intellectual pursuit, not an emotional or spiritual understanding. We place objects and ideas on a pedestal, just like in a museum, so we can stand back to analyze, critique, and idealize what potential this thing has.
"You can't go around an experience, brother. You've got to go through it."
Let me tell a little story to start. I found myself in New Orleans after a considerable trek across this country, having seen some incredible highs and some unbelievable lows. So many of the highs we experienced were based on people's pursuit of authenticity, whereas the lows were almost always connected with the romanticized pursuit of perfection. Mini-malls and shopping complexes covering the land to curate the perfect shopping experience, so those living nearby would never have to run into the pesky beast of discomfort, which for them would be the perception of poverty. The ironic thing being that the suburbs and urban sprawl, a faux-middle class, are the very mechanisms that create poverty and homelessness. Looking into the eyes of women who literally put on a mask to step out into a world that tells them they have to look and act a certain way, just like those pretty perfect faces in magazines and on billboards, in movies and shows everywhere. So folks start selling out their own health and wellness for the perfect.
Our stay in New Orleans was shaping up to be an amazing time, staying at the India House hostel, which was incredible and the place to be, music happening organically everywhere we carried instruments, conversation springing up from the cracks in the ground, and a high vibration unlike many places in this world. We took the trolly downtown on a Thursday night into the French Quarter, popping into clubs and bars to go and find the sound. We caught a solid female-fronted reggae band, great Jazz and Funk, some good Blues, street corner Hip-Hop-Truth-Fire, and sounds pouring out from every nook and cranny. With the night getting pretty late, 2 or 3am, we hopped into our last stop where we found a very normal funk band who were at least holding it down. A cat got up and belted Superstitious by Stevie Wonder and ended the set on a good note for sure.
Leaving and thinking our night was coming to a close, somewhat disappointedly, one of the ladies we were with forgot her phone in the club and had to go back for it. When you start losing shit, that's when doors really open up. They came back and informed us that we had all been invited to come chill at a tucked in spot with a heated pool and salt water hot tub. Of course. So we all roll over to the spot and are met by an incredibly interesting little corner of the city, with a fire pit and groovy pool, open bar, and decent sound system. Good vibes, plus rarely do we ever say no to a tripped out experience.
The crowd hanging out was fascinating. Cream-skinned and plump people abounded, kind of like some Greco-Roman throwback experience. The men were really quite cherub-like, and the women were like strange ghosts in the whole scene. Definitely a boys club. But the cat who sang Stevie was there, so we sparked a spliff and got down to it. Him and I immediately began vibing and talking about things on the realer side of life. He was traveling and spreading the music love, but I could tell that he was grounded in the heart. After a minute, I decided to lead the charge into the pool, so I got naked (when in Rome, or pseudoRome) and hopped in. Swimming around and chatting with the cats in the hot tub, I started asking them what made them tick. The answers were as I expected, idealized notions of decadent living. This was just a pedestrian stop for them on their endless journey to the top, but it was good for now.
It was becoming more and more clear to me that this was where the night's lesson would be. The veil was becoming thinner and thinner by the moment and the lesson that was coming through was all about the perception of perfection. Here was a group of characters who were obviously taken care of, had what they needed and much much more, but were dissatisfied with it all still. And to top it off, apparently the pool we were swimming in had a name. The Pool of Souls. The story goes that when digging up the spot for the pool, they found a whole mess of graves underneath, and since exhuming all of those pesky graves was too expensive, they decided to remove some and form the pool around the remaining coffins. Of course! Buried culture in your way? Fuck it, let's build a pool! So the cherubs were chilling in a graveyard, getting high on decadence, standing on the souls of others to get that much closer to the top. When the lessons come, they are really coming.Just about that time, in perfect synchronicity, the fella with the spliff comes over and asks me if I liked the song Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds. I said of course, and all my friends do too in fact. So we all took a moment to sing the song together, embrace the love in it all, and cut through the remainder of the veil with that gentle and beautiful liquid sword. So for the next couple of hours, we all talked about the heart inside of everything, our divine purpose for being there, and how beautiful it feels to be in love with love and life. I found the difference between me and decadent even melted away, and rather than looking at it as the enemy, it just became part of the process. A step on the journey, something to get beyond. The murderer becoming the saint after realizing what an awful course they have led, but if they were never the murderer they could never have been the saint. You dig? The folks indulging, the difference and whatever anger I was feeling towards them was escaping me. Truth inside of everything is divine, the walls we put between us and it are matters of perception.
The souls in the courtyard were speaking loud and clear now as well. Having tuned into the voices beyond, there was really one resounding sentiment, which was that no matter how much the uncomfortable men of this world try to pave over, sterilize, and clean away the diverse and deep culture of the world...it will always spring through the cracks in their pavement. Every time. But they also implored me to spread the word that there is a sickness in this world. And it is the need to run from the real. I mean, that's it, right? Mini-malls, make-up, fast cars, big houses, security systems, pop music, microwavable food, etc. etc. These things, in themselves, are acts of running. Covering. Keeping the truth of feeling just out of arms reach.
As the sun started to come up, we decided it was probably best to move on, so we packed up and jumped out of the little vortex we had been chilling in, back to the city streets of Nawlins. Countless delivery trucks with alcohol and far-away food, black and brown men toiling, tired eyes looking right through me, trash barges, trains filled with oil, garbage on river shores. The shadow that is the pursuit of perfection, it is all around us. Walk anywhere in this country and you will see the result of our collective need for comfort. I am certainly by no means exempt from this. I don't know many people who are. If you drive a car, shop at the grocery, buy clothes at the store, order products online, whatever it may be...that simple action imposes degradation on the remainder of the world solely so we can curate and manicure the perfect life. Look at it. Don't roll your eyes.
Our story really peaks at Cafe Du Monde. There was a gal in our group that with the best intentions wanted to go have a Cafe and Beignets at the spot. The rest of the group was a bit apprehensive, me actually trying to steer us away, but we were supposed to purge something. So we jumped in. Sitting down, the waitress asked if we wanted six coffees and beignets, which we all promptly replied that there was only one order. You could see our friend and the waitress were in an awkward growth moment, but se la vie. Coffee and Beignet arrived, or awful acrid juice and funnel cake really. I could see the wheels were turning in her heart, and this little fairy tale about what the perfect New Orleans experience is supposed to be was slipping through her hands like sand. As a Buddha I met living on the streets of Springfield once told me, "You can't go around an experience, brother. You've got to go through it."
After it was all settled, the discomfort passed, we all said jah bless and most of us parted ways. Will, our Aztec spirit-guide Larissa, and myself decided that we needed some more low key people watching, so our journey finished up at a spot called the Ruby Slipper. Ha! We sat down and just kind of unpacked the evening, talked about our need to be closer with our spirit and purpose, the divinity of the feminine, and ultimately just laughing our faces off about the comedy unfolding constantly in front of us. But my reflection at the end of it all is this:
Our pursuit of perfection, the need to fulfill a conditioned fairy tale....not only does this degrade our own spirit and purpose, taking us further and further from our personal truth, it also imposes a radically destructive culture onto the rest of this world. Ecological collapse is upon us because we can't step outside of our fairy tale. Life has to look like this and I am willing to do whatever it takes to get there. If you sit in silence and think about how so much of what surrounds you is part of the story you've created, then follow that to the cost upon someone else's shoulders that your wants create, it becomes quite transparent that our dreams turn other people's lives into nightmares.
Let go of the story in your mind and sit in the absolute now. Piece by piece you will shed the wants and get down to the needs. Besides, the less time you spend wanting, the more time you can devote to giving. Tis the season, right?
Monday, December 19, 2016
Mission to Standing Rock
Will and I have been traveling the country for a couple of weeks now, but it all started with a trip to Standing Rock. I wrote a little article about our experience there and it was posted onto Roy Ghim's Frederick blog, Western Machines.
R.I.S.E.
Waking up this morning, crawling out of my sleeping bag and thanking the goddess that I woke for another day here, I am reminded that there are countless other people in this city pulling themselves from synthetic bags just like mine. Except theirs are probably not under a roof with running water and heat. I am blessed to be here.
My time in Memphis has been an extraordinarily fast paced lesson in the duality that plays between darkness and light, and how both can be just as blinding. There are a fair amount of men and women who are homeless living in the forgotten nooks and crannies of Memphis, with a seemingly endless spectrum of circumstances determining their situations. All of them bound by the same instinct we all share, but only the lucky few get to have survival imposed upon them every moment of their lives. (sarcasm)
Since leaving Standing Rock, we have basically been driving south and distributing extra food, clothing, camping gear, hygienic supplies, and most of the time just cash out of our pockets. It has been striking to meet so many people whose eyes show the deepest sorrows, the oldest traumas, and the cries for help that have been unanswered for so long. Just stopping to shake someone's hand and give them the respect to be listened to has often times been more healing for them than some hand warmers and a jacket. That single moment when they remember that they aren't actually invisible.
The invisibility effect is actually something that really struck me as a young man, seeing people living on the streets and being practically invisible to everyone who was passing. The night we pulled into Memphis we packed up a big plastic bag full of supplies and our plan was to cruise around town and just sprinkle some light on folks as the need arose. The effect, however, was that we became pretty much invisible to everyone who wasn't without a home and also came a step closer to the people who were. Folks milling about on their evening in the city, dressed up and ready to party had the obvious notion that Will and myself were also homeless, thus giving us the temporary super power of invisibility.
None of the probably thousands of people we passed even so much as batted an eye at us, unless they had an instrument in their hands or holes in their stale and dirty clothes. This was startling at first, but quickly I found a really lovely kinship with the salt of the earth, and felt the rift between me and 'normalcy' rapidly increasing. The desire to be a part of the fold was almost non-existent before coming into town, and was certainly eradicated quite quickly once setting foot into the real. But there was something particularly special about those living on the streets, as opposed to those who were just traveling upon them.
Here lies the point...every single time we spotted someone who the world seemed to painfully bend around, we found an individual who had the truth. Through mumbles and broken words, when we dropped in with that person they would start spilling gems and nuggets that were blowing our minds. Every time we would walk away cracking up and feeling high because we felt like we just been blessed. And I believe we were.
See, the people who look like they're in a hurry, running to their next meeting or appointment, rocking the fresh threads and keeping it all tied up so tight...they avert their eyes, walk a little faster and suddenly have a whole string of texts to answer on their phone when they spot a homeless individual, not because they are afraid of that person; It's not even because they are repulsed by them. If that was why folks became invisible, then it would actually be a lot more simple to suss out the issue. But the reason is so much more personal, and I will let you know something too...everyone who reads this suffers from the symptoms in some degree. You are not immune.
The cause of the chasm between the person living on the street and the person walking on the street is simply, and oh-so-complicated, the fear of ourselves. (I'm going to bring it down to the personal, instead of doing you's and them's) If I see someone on the street and I meet eyes with them, I start a conversation, then I could either not listen and tell them I don't have any change, never to see them again I'm sure; or, I could abandon the wall I have built between me and them, listen with my heart, laugh with them, sit and roll a spliff and share a story, give them everything I have because they need it more every single time, and probably learn something from this hidden lotus Buddha growing from the cracks in our city streets.
Both options result in me getting to where I need to go, but one involves the soul, heart, mind synthesis, and the other is just us running from the shadow once again. That shadow will most certainly be there around the next corner as well, twice as big and scary. Have you recognized that these situations are really just living prayers? Maybe try it sometime. You see someone in need and rather than coming up with a sack full of excuses why you don't need to care, remember that there is only one reason why you could. And I'll take one good reason over a heap of excuses any day. What begins to happen though is our senses become heightened, our eyes wake up, our heart emerges as the driver, and suddenly spirit begins presenting itself at every turn.
I grew up to think the simple choice between Love and Fear was kind of bullshit, mostly, honestly, from the scene in Donnie Darko where that awful bible-thumping lady and Patrick Swayze are making the case for all things being based around Love and Fear. I commiserated with Donnie and pretty much made up my mind right there. Well, I was 14, and remained an idiot and fool for a long time after, and in many ways am still just as foolish.
But the truth is I've learned some things too. One thing that I know for certain, and I dare to even claim certainty, is that the shadow we see around us is the shadow that lurks within us. Only a complete commitment in this life to walk in our heart's space will offer any hope to the problematic world we seem to be lamenting so much. Stop running away from created fear, turn to face it. If suffering is only a perspective, then flip the switch right now and watch your whole world flip too.
My time in Memphis has been an extraordinarily fast paced lesson in the duality that plays between darkness and light, and how both can be just as blinding. There are a fair amount of men and women who are homeless living in the forgotten nooks and crannies of Memphis, with a seemingly endless spectrum of circumstances determining their situations. All of them bound by the same instinct we all share, but only the lucky few get to have survival imposed upon them every moment of their lives. (sarcasm)
Since leaving Standing Rock, we have basically been driving south and distributing extra food, clothing, camping gear, hygienic supplies, and most of the time just cash out of our pockets. It has been striking to meet so many people whose eyes show the deepest sorrows, the oldest traumas, and the cries for help that have been unanswered for so long. Just stopping to shake someone's hand and give them the respect to be listened to has often times been more healing for them than some hand warmers and a jacket. That single moment when they remember that they aren't actually invisible.
The invisibility effect is actually something that really struck me as a young man, seeing people living on the streets and being practically invisible to everyone who was passing. The night we pulled into Memphis we packed up a big plastic bag full of supplies and our plan was to cruise around town and just sprinkle some light on folks as the need arose. The effect, however, was that we became pretty much invisible to everyone who wasn't without a home and also came a step closer to the people who were. Folks milling about on their evening in the city, dressed up and ready to party had the obvious notion that Will and myself were also homeless, thus giving us the temporary super power of invisibility.
Here lies the point...every single time we spotted someone who the world seemed to painfully bend around, we found an individual who had the truth. Through mumbles and broken words, when we dropped in with that person they would start spilling gems and nuggets that were blowing our minds. Every time we would walk away cracking up and feeling high because we felt like we just been blessed. And I believe we were.
See, the people who look like they're in a hurry, running to their next meeting or appointment, rocking the fresh threads and keeping it all tied up so tight...they avert their eyes, walk a little faster and suddenly have a whole string of texts to answer on their phone when they spot a homeless individual, not because they are afraid of that person; It's not even because they are repulsed by them. If that was why folks became invisible, then it would actually be a lot more simple to suss out the issue. But the reason is so much more personal, and I will let you know something too...everyone who reads this suffers from the symptoms in some degree. You are not immune.
The cause of the chasm between the person living on the street and the person walking on the street is simply, and oh-so-complicated, the fear of ourselves. (I'm going to bring it down to the personal, instead of doing you's and them's) If I see someone on the street and I meet eyes with them, I start a conversation, then I could either not listen and tell them I don't have any change, never to see them again I'm sure; or, I could abandon the wall I have built between me and them, listen with my heart, laugh with them, sit and roll a spliff and share a story, give them everything I have because they need it more every single time, and probably learn something from this hidden lotus Buddha growing from the cracks in our city streets.
Both options result in me getting to where I need to go, but one involves the soul, heart, mind synthesis, and the other is just us running from the shadow once again. That shadow will most certainly be there around the next corner as well, twice as big and scary. Have you recognized that these situations are really just living prayers? Maybe try it sometime. You see someone in need and rather than coming up with a sack full of excuses why you don't need to care, remember that there is only one reason why you could. And I'll take one good reason over a heap of excuses any day. What begins to happen though is our senses become heightened, our eyes wake up, our heart emerges as the driver, and suddenly spirit begins presenting itself at every turn.
I grew up to think the simple choice between Love and Fear was kind of bullshit, mostly, honestly, from the scene in Donnie Darko where that awful bible-thumping lady and Patrick Swayze are making the case for all things being based around Love and Fear. I commiserated with Donnie and pretty much made up my mind right there. Well, I was 14, and remained an idiot and fool for a long time after, and in many ways am still just as foolish.
But the truth is I've learned some things too. One thing that I know for certain, and I dare to even claim certainty, is that the shadow we see around us is the shadow that lurks within us. Only a complete commitment in this life to walk in our heart's space will offer any hope to the problematic world we seem to be lamenting so much. Stop running away from created fear, turn to face it. If suffering is only a perspective, then flip the switch right now and watch your whole world flip too.
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