Fazed 18 June 2007

To be fazed or unfazed by the phases of life? Worry is overrated. I am fazed in that I go through phases and walk upon various stages in life, yet this all takes place upon the Earth, in this solar system, in this universe, in this...this. I do wonder at the next stage of my life - what's in store? - and I'm happy to say it's become more of an exciting adventure than a contemplation fraught with needless fears and anxieties. My family raised me to live in fear of that which I cannot control, but I'm finding that my attempt to arrogantly take hold of what is already free and living, only serves to squander my own energies and squash the breath out of something beautifully pure and wild.

I'm ready for something new in life, some challenge I have not yet faced, or an old one that needs re-facing in a new way. So much potential exists for growth within this earthly domain and I'm happy to be a seeker flagrantly participating in an experimental debauchery. By making love with what's here in front of my eyes, I make love to the spirit in which all resides.

In Love and Trust 25 February 2007

Tenderness, opening slowly,

To the touch of the beloved.

A warm gaze alone,

Fills the heart and

Causes it to overflow.

As I cascade into you,

Breath moves freely and without judgment.

Fleeting whirlwinds

Never had so much fun as a gentle and enduring rain.

And while the tide’s turning remains uncertain,

The fool’s dance of faith and surrender,

Beckons enticingly.

That we caress and love the seedlings of growth,

Nestled deep within the core of our beings.

And in support of one another – bloom,

How painfully joyful,

The first awakening of a fragrant bud.

May I hold you in awe?

Caress your skin as surely as I caress my own?

Wondering at the seed of life within you,

What form shall it take?

That mystery being half the fun,

The rest found in bearing witness to your divine unfolding,

Lovingly woven with my own.

It's all Graham crackers! 13 November 2006

Many of us likely remember being children and getting those animal crackers that come in a box that looks like a circus cage. Perhaps we've had teachers who, one day, bring in a box of these animal crackers. Immediately we, all the children, begin making pleas for which animal we want. "I want an elephant!" "I want a tiger" "I want a giraffe!". Inevitably one too many children asks for an elephant and the teacher has to say, "I'm sorry, there are no more elephants, how about a tiger instead?" The child stamps their foot in disappointment, pouting and saying, "But I want an elephant".

In times like these, when we feel the disappointment of not getting what we want and think we need, just remember...it's all graham crackers! Whether it's an elephant or a tiger, both taste the same in the end.

Sex 8 November 2006

Body sweating in your presence,
Felt sense of oncoming vibratory pleasure,
Shocking the senses.
Take hold,
Two fecund beings,
Enveloping one another,
The elixir of life begins to flow,
Confounding boundaries,
As two join and become one.
Sweet and succulent breathe,
That life-giving energy,
Deep and heavy,
Grounded yet ecstatic.
A climax is rising,
The energy is spiraling.
Give way and surrender,
As life rushes through,
In circumambulating rhythms,
One falling back into two,
Fully replenished and renewed.
Perpetual homage due to this,
Giver of life and philosopher's stone,
Immortal elixir of love.

The Wheel of Fortune 5 November 2006

Oh wheel, how I have been intrigued by your symbolism as of late.

As others have heard me state, this card, in the major arcana of the tarot, captures much of what I see in the Methodology of Advaita Vedanta, or non-duality. The wheel and those things turning with the wheel represent the world of perpetual change - things rise and things fall. At the center of this cyclic sphere stands the Magician, a being centered in Self, in the One (the Magician is deemed card 1 in the tarot, the beginning within which all is enfolded). Those things amidst the spinning wheel are our attachments, including and not limited to ideas, relationships, thought and behavior patterns, physical objects, memories, and emotions. It's not that we are to reject experiences of these things, or deem them unworthy of our time and attention; that would only serve to deepen our entrenchment in a dual world, which necessitates the opposition of one thing against another. The key here is attachment. We can be invested in something and hope to see the process through to its completion, but if we attach ourselves so firmly to it that we are unable to let go of this project or idea when and if the time comes, we end up creating pain and suffering in our own lives. When we hold to things so firmly, we are attempting to make permanent something which is impermanent.

So it is in The Wheel of Fortune. As the Magician, the observer, we can stand balanced and centered in the wheel, watching the things turn, and even taking part in them, while still maintaining our position. It's when we fixate our awareness upon one of those objects, that we catch ourselves in the wheel with it, circling round, taking part in karma. Because what we fixate on will continually morph and change as it circles the wheel, we may grow weary and disappointed, thinking that we will never attain the end we first wished to see. And so it is because even when we accomplish one goal and feel momentary satisfaction, something else calls to our attention and if we are to again experience this momentary bliss, we must go off on yet another adventure. The funny thing is, we can experience this satisfaction when letting go of all that is subject to impermanence; by going within to realize our Selves as the One.

In this beingness we can still take part in the multiplicity of this dual world. Oneness is not necessarily a rejection of everything outside one's Self, it is an all-encompassing way of being that includes and respects all that is because we then come to the realization that all beings have their Self in the One. Whatever we do to an "other", we do to ourselves. The Magician dreams the wheel and its meaning into existence with tools at his/her disposal. We create our respective worlds and we are each having an experience of reality contained in the one which is infinite.

I suggest it is the awareness of all that is changing, as changing and not permanent, and awareness of our own wholeness even while living as separate beings, that can allow us the opportunity to shed outmoded thoughts, feelings, and their associated behavior patterns that create pain and struggle (pollution, murder, rape, and war) in the first place. In knowing Self, we know the whole. And in knowing the whole, we are whole. As the whole, we are free to live out our lives in presence for what is, responding to what comes openly and honestly.

One source:

"The alchemist knows Fortuna's law, and can use it beneficially, harnessing the descent as a means of disintegration to achieve a higher integration. Then the rotation of the elements becomes an ascending spiral. He also knows that, although the wheel's rim always moves, hidden behind Fortuna's captivating form is the stationary axis, the unmoving hub, the fixed point immune to changing fortune. This is where he stations himself when he has had enough of riding Fortune's Wheel."

www.cs.utk.edu/~mclennan/BA/PT/M10.html

More from the same source:

"The hub of the wheel represents the unchanging source of the phenomena confronting us. In psychological terms, it is the Self - the totality of the psyche, both conscious and unconscious - which is usually hidden, as the hub is behind Fortuna; we are so captivated by Lady Luck that we forget to look past her. The hub makes the moving rim possible, and demonstrates that, although we seem to be met by continually changing fortunes, this is a projection, and it is, in fact, our conscious ego, revolving around our Self, that turns to meet our fortune. However, that does not mean we can control the wheel, for free will resides in the conscious ego, which must ride on the rim, which is turned by hidden Fate (Fortuna). We cannot stop the wheel and still live, but if we can find the central axis, then the rotation can become a spiral and we can progress."

"The course of Fortune changes like the moon:
It grows and shrinks, and knows not how to stay the same,
At first I'm raised, and I enjoy the reign; at last,
Behold, I take too much: the ends differ seldom from starts:
I shall reign, I reign, I have reigned, I have no reign."

When caught in Fortune's wheel, we can always be assured that rest and wholeness are ours to know, should we only come back to our Selves.

Mingled Conversations and Epiphanies 27 August 2006

My program beginning-of-the-semester party was earlier this evening, after which a large group of us, much larger than last year if I recall, gathered at Gold Cane in the Haight for pool and conversation. I began to notice with a curious observing mind that when talking with someone and looking into their eyes, or even not looking into their eyes, that I was talking with their essence or soul or whatever you want to call it, and not really identifying the person with their body or physical manifestation, though I did notice their presence, physical or otherwise.

I'm not sure what this means nor do I desire to place a meaning behind it. It is merely an observation. When someone mentions a person's name who is not present in that moment, what comes to our minds? Is it the essence of who and what we understand that person to be, in other words, our experiences of them up through the utterance of their name, and/or do we recall their physical appearance?

More and more I am convinced, through my experiences, that we are so much more than our names and labels and the physicality that we take on, yet these aspects of our beingness do and can have a profound affect upon us and how we grow or who/what we continually grow into. How does my name and hearing myself called this name throughout life affect how I perceive myself and interact with others, or how they experience me? How does the vibratory resonance of one name differ from the vibratory experience of another name? While incredibly subtle, the affects seem weighty. Is it possible, with awareness of all these subtle frequencies that constitute living, to fully embrace them and thus become further empowered?

A wandering mind, a wandering mind. Yet the heart is content with these "puzzles" because life is fascinating and full of magick, so let it be.

Wyrd 6 August 2006

How do we define a word, and idea, or an experience? Why does it need to be defined? Is it possible to share or relate without the use of symbols or words or definitions? Is the human mind on a constant, often unconscious, search for symbols in the surrounding environment, with which to make mental sense of it all?

We use words all the time. I'm using them now. In fact, I would say we all abuse them from time to time. Are we the words we speak or write? Is what we attempt to convey via words and the mind in fact those words or ideas? The actuality with which we are in communion with - is it or is it not synonymous with the words or ideas or values themselves?

Based on human action it would seem so. Why else would a person die for an idea or a belief? Why else would people judge one another based on what one thinks or how one goes about one's daily life?

Do we ever "hide" behind words - saying something is this or that, labeling it and defining it so we might bypass it altogether?

Some quotes from "On Love and Loneliness" by Krishnamurti:

"...they say they love God, and they depend on what they call God; but it is not God, the unknown, it is a thing created by the mind" (Krishnamurti).

"What matters is to see very honestly and very clearly exactly what it is you are feeling at the moment, without bringing in the ideal of how you should feel or will feel at some future date, fo rthen you can do something about it". If you say "must" and "your real feelings are quite different" then "those words become a screen behind which you hide" (Krishnamurti).

So our mind is always concerned with finding something. Through furniture, through a house, through books, through people, through ideas, through rituals, through symbols, we hope to get something, to find happiness. And so the things, the people, the ideas, become extraordinarily important, because through them we hope we shall find it. So we begin to be dependent on them" (Krishnamurti).

An online dictionary (google it) defines "word" as:
"a unit of language that native speakers can identify"

An online etymology dictionary (www.etymonline.com) expresses "word" as:
"speech, talk, utterance, word"..."from...wurdan", etc.

Words are tools. Even in this process I am using words to label what words are and how they're used, in my opinion, which is also a result of thinking. Words are based on thought, even if the words come after a spiritual experience, once we come back to the mind and attempt to describe it, we are thinking.

Now, in Krishnamurti's book, he seems to be quite against the mind and thinking. In other parts of the book (title above), he says it's necessary to put the mind in it's place. I do feel the mind is necessary considering most of us don't communicate in a completely telepathic way. Secondly, I do feel that mind and thought processes need to be observed for what they are (whatever that may be for any given person or animal).

A little off topic perhaps, when thinking about "word", I also began to think about another word I've heard, being "wyrd".

An online dictionary claims:
"A word somewhat like fate, but the word comes from a root meaning "past", thus the emphasis is on fate derived from one's past actions"

The online etymology dictionary makes the case:
"wyrd" "fate, destiny" (n.), lit. "that which comes""
(It was actually brought up under the word "weird")

Now this has me thinking about karma...

Cracking Open Skulls 10 June 2006

Crawling over deceit,
With rotting clawed toes.
Pulling back the bedsheets,
In order to expose.

Frightened looks of terror,
Pleading to be let go.
Never realizing that we create,

The monster in front of our nose.

Dancing light faerie,
In another world this being may be.
Unveiling the wisdom in all hearts,
That they may be free.

Ugliness and blackness,
Creeping out from within.
Projections are a troubling sight,
It's just the light wanting back in.

Woods Woman November 2005

In the woods is where you'll find her, as the masculine material world could never for long bind her. The forests and wild gardens is where she plays, singing with the elves and fairies until the break of day. And within her adobe cottage all will find, sweet solace and comfort of the most beautiful kind. For she is the caretaker of the woods and all the creatures therein, should you wander within these walls, she shall nurture you as beloved, long lost kin. Take a taste of her delectable herbal serum, be cured of all ails and be free of all delirium. And once you are well rested she will send you on your way, awaiting her next visitor in the deep merry woods of the Faye.

More Musings from Thailand April 2005

Tourism and Spirituality?

I checked out of the hotel early that morning, saying goodbye to my friend who was still quite ill from food poisoning. She was hoping to go on a 30 day Vispassana retreat once she felt better, something that involved no talking, no music, no writing, and no reading, only sitting meditation. From there she would go with Jan, another visitor to Punpun, and travel to India.

Feeling rather bad about leaving her in a dire state, yet more than ready to go home, I threw on my pack and walked down the alleyway towards the large street where the huge markets were held. As I walked, I noticed random puddles of fluid and strategically walk around them, as I was certain it hadn’t rained the night before. I had also seen someone walk out into the street and pour their pee onto the pavement. It cost money to use the bathrooms.

It didn’t matter what time of day it was, there always seemed to be massive numbers of people out having breakfast, lunch, or dinner, drinking at a bar. I walked to my favorite little restaurant, AUM - my little haven in the madness. I maneuvered through people walking on the sidewalk, squeezing through to the entrance of the café, and sat down to have some breakfast, feeling at once relaxed.

Sitting down at the table next to me were three middle aged white men. Not the type I would expect to see at a vegetarian restaurant, but this was Thailand after all. I quietly listened as they talked business - how to boost sales and how certain people weren’t doing their job right. The dichotomy of Thailand was obvious. On the one hand, the country made a lot of money through tourism, so it was extensively geared towards the tourists.[1] On the other hand, Thailand was considered a very spiritual place, a place where one came to find enlightenment. And yet these two, seemingly contradictory aspects of Thailand lived side by side and overlaped. I would attribute this partially to the fact that, in the West at least, spirituality can be bought. All anyone need do to become an expert is go read the books and buy the kits, although we would say they're lacking in real experience, and therefore knowledge. But that’s what places like Thailand were for. And I wondered, would it have been possible for people truly seeking spiritual guidance to come to Thailand had the tourist industry, or capitalism in general, not been in place? Would they have still wanted to come, would they have even known about it, would they have gone somewhere else?

The individual seeking spiritual places perhaps inadvertently took part in capitalism – buying a plane ticket to some noted spiritual country, etc. – when the individual may have been able to practice at home without going anywhere. An idea lurked within the minds of many foreigners, it was obvious in their behavior, my own as well, that there was always something better waiting to be had. Reaching enlightenment in my room back home wasn’t nearly as meaningful as reaching it in a temple in some far away land one only read about in books or brochures. Again, the lure of tourism, the push of capitalism.

Where does this spiritual unrest come from? Capitalism in American society has pushed individuals to continually seek the new – new clothes, new electronic gadgets, new adventures in exotic countries, new spirituality. While capitalism only claims to deal with the marketable world, it’s workings have permeated our inner lives. Spirituality has arguably become a marketable commodity, yet the meaning inherent in it is part of the inner life of the person involved in the transaction.

Thailand was a country where both worlds collided. It was where people came to seek out the spiritual place they'd heard so much about, the one that would carry them to spiritual attainment. In answer to my previous question, would it have been possible for individuals seeking spirituality to come to Thailand had the tourist industry not been in place? Of course, but it would have been purely by accident, intuition, or word of mouth. And yet I would argue that, eventually, word would get out and the tourist industry would creep in, making a nice little home for itself.

---

[1] “We have problematized the identity of the native peoples who become the object of the tourist gaze, caught as they are in the paradoxical predicament of encouraging tourism as a route to economic development but realizing at the same time that tourists want to see undeveloped primitive peoples” (Bruner N.D.).

Land of Smiles Dec.-Jan., 2004/05

What Just Happened?

Thailand – 70 degree weather, baggie pants, and ice cold smoothies. Wisconsin – below freezing, woolen coats, and snow. Within a days time I had crossed over, back into the world I had come from. Back to warm wood stoves, beds, flush toilets, and American food. The past month seemed like but a blip on the screen showing my life. Had it really happened? Was it all just some weird dream? But a day ago I had been surrounded by Thai speaking people, honking tuk tuks, and the smell of kefir leaves oozing from restaurant-lined streets. Only a few more days and I would be back in class, having already missed the first week and a half. It would be straight back to reading, writing, and studying, with no time left for anything else. Not even...

Recuperation…this aspect of my trip to Thailand has been an ongoing process and I just can’t seem to get back on track. I kept having dreams about being in a foreign country, one that looked remarkably similar to Thailand, and running into people I met at Punpun. I have been more than ready to put this experience behind me. To write this paper and let it all go so perhaps I could be “normal” again. And yet I knew there was no going back to the way life use to be. No matter what I did Thailand would always be there, somewhere, lurking – smiling faces, honking horns, pollution, baht, tourists.

Planes, Trains, and other such things…

Nothing seemed real as I boarded the plane for departure from Wisconsin. What was I doing anyways? Was I crazy? The fall semester at school had just ended and the residue of finals and papers was still thick upon my mind. Stress levels had yet to dwindle down and my nerves were on edge. And now the day had come to make the 30 + hour journey to my destination…alone. I'd already had the realization that I was not prepared, emotionally, mentally, or otherwise.

The day before leaving I ran around town gathering up the last of the supplies I thought I would need – batteries, journals, pens, and traveler’s checks. My mind was racing and I felt as though I had badly prepared for some examination. Quite honestly, I really didn’t want to go. I came to this conclusion about a month before it was time to leave and it only added to the stress of feeling the need to fulfill obligations. But it came down to the fact that I had already borrowed money for the trip and I had already made a big deal to my parents about how this trip would add greatly to my life experiences.

And so it was that I boarded the aircraft, having talked myself into going and trying to remain optimistic, thinking, “this is just the break I need, everything will work out fine.”

Sawasdee Ka Inn

The place obviously catered to foreigners – a basket of goodies on the table contained anything and everything a traveler to Thailand might need: one small can of Pringles, one large bottle of rum, one box of condoms, one pack of Marlboro cigarettes, one lighter, one toothbrush and toothpaste, and one phone card. I imagined the play of events. Traveler goes out with a bottle of rum, offering it to some random partner. They return to traveler’s room, wild sex ensues, followed by a cigarette and the munchies. The following morning, hung over, the traveler brushes their teeth to get rid of that stale taste of Thai rum combined with Pringles stuck to their tongue. Traveler proceeds to use the phone card to call their real partner back home and relate what a great time they’re having. I was coming to find out more and more that the cities of Thailand were playing into the foreign fantasy of the country.

Tourists…

Everybody had a mission, some great purpose, rhyme, or reason for being there. And of course it was the most important thing, something that nobody else had. It was unique to the individual. Sure everyone went there, but not one person would ever admit to being like “them.” Because they weren’t, really, they weren’t! I wasn’t like them. I certainly didn’t go to Thailand to be one of the tourists. I hadn’t been pulled in by the media to visit this great worldly attraction, right? Or had I? What were these people doing here besides being tourists? Did they have the same sense of purpose that I had felt justified my own presence in that foreign land?

We would all glance sideways at each other, or perhaps just ignore the fact that other foreigners were also there, which was difficult considering the city had more foreign faces than Thai it seemed. Each group had their own sort of way about them, each cohort loyal to its own and looking down upon the others. It’s no secret that individuals or groups may have had their own, different reasons for going there, and perhaps their own idea of what it would all be about, but there just seemed to be something about Thailand that had drawn them all in, put them all together in this country, far away from home, to fulfill their curiosities. But no one would speak of it. It was simply there, an underlying current of energy streaming through each body walking along the streets of Khao San Road or along Taipei Gate.

Sawasdee ka, hello, welcome to Thailand, we are all tourists here, including you, get over it and just go have a good time doing whatever it is you do, because this is the land of smiles, and none of the rest of us really give a shit. We are self-absorbed zombies, glued to our own sense of purpose, reaching for our own personal star. If you don’t have one, you better go find one, because no one is going to share their light with you, unless you plan to pay for it.

It was so easy to put down the tourists and to ignore the fact that I was one. I had my own little purpose. I was making a difference in the world while these people were taking advantage of the good people of Thailand, pushing their cultural limits to accept more and more of the outside world. And yet simply by being there, I was playing a part in that game. I actually felt somewhat guilty for having read The Beach and having seen the movie and wondered if any of these people had been drawn here by that story. Was everyone in Thailand looking for their own piece of paradise? “Was I a closet ethnographer, or a tourist doing ethnography?” (Bruner N.D.) [1]. I suppose there was a large group of us that were just dreamy fools trying to escape capitalism and yet perpetuating it by our very presence. Yes Thailand, we do love you, keep up the good work and we might come back someday, or better yet, it’s so cheap here, we might just stay!

---

[1] “Both tourists and ethnographers travel to foreign areas, reside there temporarily, observe native peoples, and return with accounts and stories of their observations…From the perspective of ethnography, tourism is an illegitimate child, a disgraceful simplification, and an imposter (de Certeau 1984: 143), and we strive to distinguish ethnography from tourism, for tourism is an assault on our authority and privileged position as ethnographers (Bruner 1989: 440)” (Bruner N.D.).

Back to the Land June - August 2004

Disillusioned with a relationship and with the material world in general, I set off to live a vision of community and sustainability. Venturing from Wisconsin to the west Coast the summer of 2004, I dedicated those three months to a life on Mountain Home, an off-the-grid community in Southwest Oregon, in a town too small to mention. I have mixed feelings about that summer. It was simultaneously the best and the worst I've ever had.

Living on the land energized me immensely. My hearing became attuned to the sounds of nature and I often heard voices as if spirits were speaking in the winds. Life was simple. I would awaken with the sun to joyously water the plants, watering and nourishing myself in the process. Many projects and daily chores needed to be completed to insure the stability of the community and its continual growth toward greater sustainability. Soil needed tilling, seeds needed planting, buildings needed repairing. The hands on quality of the work and the calm surrounds gave me great satisfaction. I felt whole and complete.

The only aspect of my time on the farm that disoriented me was sickness. The water turned out to be contaminated, but this wasn't discovered until the end of my stay and after I had already become sick from eating a piece of contaminated seaweed, so that I was drinking the water all summer and wondering why I was still feeling so ill. While I have this summer to thank for its inspiration and enveloping warmth, I also must thank it for the four years of illness I experienced following my stay.

While the water triggered my journey into illness, other psychosomatic symptoms took the chance to express themselves further. For four years I dealt with a decreased vitality. It was a time of desperate seeking, for anything that could give meaning and sustenance to a life just wasting away. It was a time of Pluto on my natal Neptune/Mars conjunction, exacerbating my sensitive nervous system with tumultuous shifts and changes.

Neverthless, I cherish that summer. I met some wonderfully inspiring people and enjoyed some delicious adventures in Eugene and Portland. The events of the summer were actually what led to my Thailand travels that December. And I think of these moments when life begins to appear complicated, and I am challenged to remember the simplicity in all things.

Call to Prayer January 2003

The plane landed and we three weary travelers gathered our belongings, moving from a turbulent 747 to a speedily swerving van, transporting us between the airport and our accommodations. It must have been two in the morning when we finally crawled into our shared room on the main floor of the Turkish hostel. I don't even remember changing clothes or falling asleep, just the weight of my body upon the thin mattress. When I was awakened at what must have been six in the morning, I was delirious with sleep deprivation. I looked to my two friends to see if they had heard. They were still, but awake, listening. I listened too. The music was coming out of a speaker system somewhere in the city, a melodious voice calling out in a foreign tongue, as the rising sun began to push away the darkness covering the city of Istanbul. I felt as though I had awakened into a dream.