San Antonio Two; the second semester of grad school

San Antonio take two; Spring semester, 2010

1.11.2010
First night back crazy
Within an hour of arriving in Texas I had unpacked the mothership, showered and driven to the Quarry to meet Lane' to see Avatar 3D. Outside it was freezing; inside the mothership I lit the burners and boiled water and made genmaicha tea in my clay pot. Lane' knocked on my door and I invited her in for tea and dark chocolate to prepare for Avatar 3D. The movie experience was perfect. Afterward, we slipped out the back exit to avoid the crowd and found ourselves on a deck three stories above the world below. It was surreal. Down on the ground, I saw the purple neon glow emanating from the window of Amy's ice cream. My heart leapt. Aamy's is to ice cream what V.G.s is to donuts. I walked in and the boy behind the counter looked at me and said, "You're usual?" and I said hell yes. The usual is a shake made with Mexican vanilla ice cream, fresh strawberries and hot fudge. With a dollop of real whipped cream on top. Lane' and I split it and it was beyond divine. When we were done the boy and girl working there asked us if we wanted to taste test. Yes! They made three different mixtures and we had to eat and vote. In the end, it was a tie so they decided to have throw off to see which flavor would win. Jamie packed a big, tight ball of Mt. Rushmore, one of the combos. Tommy packed the same of his favorite, College Breakfast. We all went outside into the parking lot of the Quarry Mall and they lined up at one end of the parking lot and hurled their balls of ice cream with their scoopers, to see who could hurl the furthest. Jamie one, thus proclaiming Mt. Rushmore the winner. This whole thing was so spontaneous and crazy fun that I have decided to make San Antonio every bit as wonderful as any place else in the world.You don't go looking for magic; you bring it with you.
1.13.2010
Dawn
Sitting in the cockpit of the mothership with the door open, parked in my own driveway, drinking a coffee with half and half and raw sugar out of my big REI mug, feeling the hot liquid warm the inside and the cold air fresh and and sharp on the outside, seeping in. The sky is black. I have not slept all the long, long night. Dawn slowly begins to approach. The sky turns bruise blue-black, then dark blue, pale blue-grey, finally the world becomes a carpet of brown, dried leaves, a canopy of heavy, grey sky, and the silence of the cold, permeating all things. There is an absence of color, only hues without depth. After the cold seeps deep into my body, I take my chill out of the cold morning air, and into a hot bath and soak. Finally, giving up on sleep, I simply wait, easily, for what I don't know.

At first glance I would have to say that if I had even a trace of vatic vision it would be telling me to leave, to leave and go back to the mountains, to the desert, to the Sierra, to New Zealand, to friends, to leave this poisoned place before it seeps in too deep. But perhaps I have no vatic vision. Perhaps somehow, although I don't know how, there is a reason for this concrete ocean that surrounds me in all directions, this tedious, monotonous, pointless subject material, and this alien race of strangers with whom I find no common ground. Do we stay someplace and make the heart sick for a vague amorphous goal; or cut losses and run to the land we love?

--
There are three things that are important to a human life. The first is to be kind. The second is to be kind. And the third is to be kind.

William James

1.17.2010
Sunday morning
I can't deny that my idea of a perfect Sunday morning is listening to jazz, drinking a hot cup of coffee with cream and sugar and writing, at dawn in cold weather. And right now that is exactly what's happening. Ray Charles is singing "Georgia," it's 33 degrees outside and I am kicked back on a couch writing, out of the cold. I slept in the mothership last night after an epic day and it was as wonderful as wonderful can get. Yesterday morning I woke up after 24 hours of non-stop rainstorm to clear and sunny skies. Surprised and happy to see the sun, I decided to make my life one big holiday and had the great idea to combine study with fun. To me, *fun* means nature, so I headed out to the nearest state park, 35 miles away, got a campsite with an overlook on the Guadalupe River, the master consequent stream of the Texas hillcountry, and settled down for what was to turn into an epic day. And born out of this day was the idea of a 'study retreat'. The study retreat idea descended on me at some point during my epic adventure. The idea is simple: I want to associate studying with fun activities so that studying becomes fun, not drudgery. By associating studying with coming to a beautiful spot in nature and combining study time with hiking, relaxing and enjoying myself, then studying becomes associated with fun and I look forward to study time. The study retreat becomes a conscious event, like a yoga retreat, where I go into nature, for a weekend of intense studying, along with hiking and being in the place I love the most. I get more efficient studying done and have a wonderful experience at the same time.

What turned my mundane day into an epic day was more of an internal shift of consciousness, and the vistas that unfolded in the rich internal landscape of my consciousness, than an external set of circumstances. I studied for a few hours, then, getting groggy, decided to take "a little walk". I followed a trail that skirted the rim of the Guadalupe River canyon. The river, several hundred feet below, called me, but after several attempts I realized the limestone cliffs of the karst topography were too steep, wet, slippery and treacherous to descend. Far below, the river arced light green through the hillcountry, bordered on one side by a wide, sandy beach, looking like paradise. The view invoked my last trip to the Himalaya and I flashed back to the views there looking down on tiny villages, strung with prayer flags, on the edge of the torrential Kali Gandaki river, tucked into the stunning setting of the grand Himal. I began to unwind and to let go. Suddenly it hit me, "I am in nature; I am alone in nature. At last."

I don't know what it's like for the rest of the world, but for me, I am most happy and at home in nature. If you drop me into the heart of nature, alone, I come alive, I belong. It's almost like I have some intense, past-life karma with nature that stills throbs in my core, ready to surface, in the right environment. When I am alone in nature, I change. I become an animal. I can see the change come over me, the way I see, the way I hear, my very body language and the way I move changes completely. I began to move across the land like an animal, in my mind, I am an Indian. As this change descended on me yesterday, the simple world of a state park transformed into a pristine, primal return to something ancient and primordial. I left the trail and began moving through the woods, alert. Suddenly my eyes saw a trail they hadn't been able to see before. At first I wondered if I was imagining it, but gradually I realized it was an animal trail. It had been invisible before but now it was as clear as a city street. At times I had to crawl to get through because it was not created by creatures that walk on two legs, but it remained clear as day to my "new" eyes. This game trail took me deeper and deeper into nature. It was as though I were descending a tunnel into another dimension.

At one point I had a realization. I stepped out of myself and looked down at myself from outside of me and I realized that my eyes were only seeing a tiny piece of the reality that was happening all around me in 360 degrees. My eyes could only see where they were looking, maybe just a tiny piece of ground in front of me as I watched my footing, maybe further ahead, but at best a very limited scope and depth of perception available to my eyes, while actually there was an enormous amount of information all around me unfolding in real time that my eyes were not aware of. There was everything else that was not in my field of vision that was happening simultaneously, everything happening behind me, above me, around me, all happening, but undetected by my perception of vision which could only see where it was directed and could only be directed to a limited area of intake. Suddenly I could "see" with other senses that I could not explain. I had another kind of vision than just my eyes, that was looking all around in all directions, taking in information. And then my ears, my sense of smell, my sense of touch came into the picture. And then another realization. That not only am only taking in a tiny, tiny fraction of the information that is available to my senses, but that there is infinitely more information available beyond the periphery of what those mundane senses have evolved to take in and detect. Not only am I normally only getting a fraction of what I can sense with my eyes, ears, nose, skin and usual processing of my brain, but there is a universe of information beyond the range of those senses that is happening all around me, in this and every moment. I am floating in a ocean of information, and it is simply a question of tuning in to it with other receptors. Even though to an objective observer watching me, I would appear to be just a man, moving through the woods, in an animal-like way, inside my internal world, I was going through an intense journey of learning and awareness, passing through another landscape altogether.

Eventually, to my absolute inner excitement, I found myself at the river. I had descended after all, even though it had appeared impossible from the cliffs above. And I realized that I had had a goal, 'reach the river', and I had attained that goal, not by *trying*, but by simply being curious, and my curiosity had taken me, eventually, and effortlessly, to my original goal and intention. I had arrived at my goal, not by trying or forcing, but simply by allowing my curiosity to unfold naturally and lead me to my goal effortlessly.

On the river, life was sublime. the beauty was almost overwhelming. I wandered along the sand bars, among the giant cypress trees, a steep limestone cliff on the other side of the river, the river itself cold, clear, light green, running fast. Ah, I felt pure, cleansed, utterly relaxed, at peace and as though I were walking on the earth before people existed, on a pristine planet, alone with nature. I had not seen another person all day.

Eventually, I made my way back by the feel of the land, through the woods, back to the mothership, just as night fell. I studied again for an hour and then slipped out into the black night and starry skies and did what I love to do the most, simply wandered all night, across the landscape, moving like an animal, drinking in the cold, the stars, the smells, the sounds, the beauty of nature and of being alive. Weirdly, the park was deserted, like an empty city, and I was the only person moving in the darkness, there were only the sounds of nature, coyotes singing, night sounds.

This morning, I woke up in the pale, pre-dawn, to 30 degrees of cold and I felt like I had been through a giant washing machine, like I'd been taken someplace faraway and given a crash course in Reality 101. But it was all right here, right now, in the present. Life is a magical, mystery tour, short but sweet for certain.

1/20/2010
The other side of San Antonio
Yesterday, on a cool, lightly drizzling morning, I decided to take a holiday here in town. I drove to old town San Antonio and left my car at a friend's house and got on my bike. That was at 11 AM. At 10 PM I was landed back in my bed. The 11 hours between were something like being shot out of, or through, a kaleidoscopic canon, or a sixties psychedelic trip. And all I did was ride my bike and explore. It was another world completely. The river, four ancient Spanish missions, old town, downtown, south side of town, parks, bike paths. Words can't paint the picture. It was another world. I wake up happy, sore and excited to get lost in that 'other' side of San Antonio again soon.

Avanti.

January 31, 2010.
It is so cold and grey outside it should be snowing. Mogwai, Auto Rock comes on itunes, the soundtrack from Miami Vice. A cold, jagged blade is held to my heart by memory and I think of Brianna and hurt a little still for all that could have been, should have been, never will be. I am studying. It’s not too bad. One month ago, I paddled out on a full moon to surf Cardiff Reef alone at midnight. Now I am here.
February 3, 2010
One of the glories of being human is that when we wake up cold and alone with no reason to go on, we make reasons, we find reasons. And the best reason is to find a way to do something kind, something good, for others, for strangers, for someone you love, for someone who loves you, for someone who doesn't love you or who you don't love, someone you don't like or who doesn't like you.

Status, wealth, possessions, are nothing more than a Maginot line against the true nature of life--and that truth is all we really have is what we give away. And the more we give, the more we have. Nothing you can hold in your hands is yours. What is yours can't be seen by the eye. What is yours is the acts of kindness that you do and what they create inside you. And that is visible only to the inner eye. And it leaves an indelible impression that lasts forever and can never be lost, from one life time to the next.

Today, right now, find a way to do something kind. And you will discover the only treasure in life that is worth having.

--
There are three things that are important to a human life. The first is to be kind. The second is to be kind. And the third is to be kind.

William James

2.12.2010
Healthy recipe
Here's an ultra-healthy, super easy, satisfying, low calorie, low cholesterol breakfast.

1 3/4 cups water
1/4 cup steel cut oats
1 ripe banana
non-fat milk

bring water to boil and add oats. boil for 5 minutes until thickens.
simmer for one hour, stir occasionally.
meanwhile mash ripe banana in bottom of bowel, until very mashed.
after one hour, remove oats from heat, cover for three minutes. then place on top of mashed banana and fill bowl with cold milk. Mix and eat. Really really good is you are trying to ween yourself off sugar, reduce cholesterol or cut fat and still feel ultra satisfied.

2.13.2010
32 degrees. I step outside and the world is covered with a think veneer of frost. The grass is silver. The air seems almost misty, like looking through a fine silver veil. Up the hill, at the end of our street, as it turns out of my field of vision, there is an orange glow, the reflection of the sunrise in the early morning air.
In the foreground I hear early morning birds waking and overall there is the ominous, white noise, background rumble of traffic, a freeway perhaps. I think that if my eyes were closed and I could ignore the rumble of machines, and focus on the birds, then I could almost imagine I was in nature somewhere. But my eyes are open and all I see is concrete and houses in every direction.
I want to walk, but I don’t want to walk down these concrete canals lined with cars and houses; I want nature. I want to be alone in nature. I stand for a long time, just to be outside. This place wears me down.

2.14.2010
A moment passed
A Moment Passed.

A Moment Passed.

New Zealand, you call me back. Outside a storm blows wild and black and cold. It came crashing into the warm blue-sky sunshine day, collided with it and exploded against it as the beautiful weather and ravaging storm beat their heads against each other until the cold won and pushed away the newborn warm spring sunshine and blue skies. Now it’s cold and grey with a sky on the edge of snowing. Just like that. I ran out and sat tight in the Mothership letting it blow and howl around me, bending trees, gusting ice winds charging down the street, around the corner, up the alley, like giant fingers of cold bone-chilled air trying to pick up the Mothership and carry her over the sea back to New Zealand.
Darkness falls, the sky is a bruise. A cold bruise, fading into the indefiniteness of night. How many a night did I hole up in the Mini-ship in New Zealand? How many storms did I weather in that land of constant momentary meteorological change? And How I loved that changing weather and those storms. Nested in my big warm comforter, with my guitar, pipe, wine, a good book, alone when I first arrived and later with Shannon. The ship rocking in the wind, the pattering, drumming, of the rain on the roof and sides. Being so close to the elements, separated by a thin membrane of steel only, yet so protected and cozy--for me the epitome of happiness and the perfect balance point.
How could I ever explain the joy of New Zealand? One morning, driving through the West coast rain forest, I pull over the Mini-ship beside a jungle river. Get out and walk down to the riverside, take off my clothes and swim in the cold pristine jungle river in the middle of that dense rain forest. A feeling of absolute joy and happiness, freedom. That’s what it was, a feeling of total freedom. You see, the thing about New Zealand is that there is nothing there, like any other jungle in the world would have, to hurt you. No animals that bite or sting. One night Shannon and I walked barefoot up a jungle river until dark, climbing over giant fallen rainforest trees, wandering alone in the heart of the dense temperate rainforest. Anywhere else in the world this jungle would be crawling with all kinds of potentially dangerous and deadly fauna. But not in En Zed. Perfectly safe. That’s what made it so special. That’s why the term “At play in the fields of the Lord,” comes to mind when I think of New Zealand rain forest. On this coast the locals told me, “If you want to swim with dolphins, just drive down to the gas station and walk out to the beach behind it and swim out; they’ll come and swim right up to you mate.” That’s New Zealand.
One night sticks in my mind, but was a typical variation of almost every night. I had driven Shannon and I to the end of the road in the south of the South Island, down into a valley, off the road onto a dirt track, then along a section of beach that I had to get up lots of momentum to get the Toyota Lite Ace van through without getting stuck, along a river, to the river mouth that emptied into a little beach, bordered by two high headlands that formed a cove in between. I drove up the berm and parked right in the wind shadow of the westernmost headland, perched right over the beach on a little bluff. We opened the back hatch so we had a view straight out to the break. Another car drove up and (mind you we are in the absolute middle of the middle of nowhere) a guy gets out and looks over at me and says “Phoenix mate! What are you doing here?” And of all the 4 million people who live in New Zealand it was my surfing buddy from Christchurch. Shannon said, “Is there anywhere you don’t have friends?”
My friend, who was an expert surfer, (In fact he had just gotten back from Hawai’i where he’d been a houseguest of Laird Hamilton) and his buddy had driven all the way from Christchurch to surf this river mouth. And for very good reason. Because their were 15 foot barrels going off. While my friends paddled out and got swallowed standing up in full barrels, we laid in the back of the Mini-ship, covered up with the duvet and felt like we were watching a larger-than-life-sized surfing film on a giant outdoor screen. It was stunning. Eventually my friends left and we were all alone. We had plans to make a fire and play guitar and drink our favorite beer, Monteith’s Christmas ale, brewed with ginger and honey. But before the evening festivities could get underway, as is the wont with New Zealand weather, a storm blew in. Cold rain and wind. So we cozied up inside the ship, warm and wrapped up in our comforter. After dark the storm blew over and the stars came out bright and clear and so did Shannon and I. We fired up my camping stove and made dinner. Then we built a beautiful driftwood fire in the sand dunes on the beach below our berm and I played guitar and sang for Shannon, we drank our favorite beer, and felt the kind of happiness that I don’t think written words can fully convey. It was the happiness of being so alive, so in the perfect place, in the perfect moment, with the perfect person, in the perfect way, perfect context, everything conspiring together, the place, the weather, the stars, the night, the fire, to make it perfect for two people just on the cusp of starting to fall in love.
When the fire burned down and the cold drove us into the Mini-ship at last and we lay down under our warm comforter like spoons, with my arms around Shannon, she slid off her clothes and for the first time we lay skin against skin, body against body (we were newly together then, in that sweet tender stage of just getting to know each other, the stage of that wonderful sweet tension). I put my arms around her with my hand comfortable between her breasts and we lay there, feeling so very happy together, just breathing , smiling and tingling., relaxed and content. I felt like a teenager. And that was one of many wonderful nights in New Zealand.
2.15.2010
To Live
This morning I woke up smiling. It's 32 degrees and I am drinking pu-ehr tea and getting ready to spend my day doing homework and studying. Which is OK. I love that it's 32 degrees, I love that in three semesters I will be done here and that I will hold a masters degree in my hands and with that I can get a job in NZ. I think although I told myself the reason I never went back to New Zealand was the price of the ticket, the price of buying another van etc, that the real reason all along has been the same reason I never went back to Turkey--that I was afraid it could never be the same, and that I'd be chasing memories and that it would just be sad. But now, I realize, fuck it. ;-) NZ was the best place I've ever found. And maybe years have passed and of course it won't be the same story, but the land will be the same, even if the plot is different. And it was the land I loved. And my friends, and they are still there and they are the same.

So here's to life, the best song that's ever been sung and here's to not being afraid to live you dreams and to dream your dreams and to say fuck it and jump into the fire of not knowing to take a chance on following your heart. Here's to letting go of the past and embracing right now!

As they say in Greek, Yasou pali kari--I salute you brave warrior!

I want to live life and live it now and live it all the way. I want to do what I want, the way I want, how I want, my way, my path, my dream, my life, always. No compromise. I don't want to be trapped by things. I want to be light and free. A pack on my back, my board, a guitar, and open beaches, open skies, stars, sand, wind, sun, sky and moon. Friends to walk and talk with all night long about life. A cause to live for, to fight for, something to believe in, something worth struggling for--freedom. Freedom from mental slavery. Freedom from hegemony.

I dream of having my pack on my back, hiking down the John Muir Trail in the high Sierra, swimming naked in the cold rivers and tarns and sleeping at night under the sky. How I long for that time alone in my beloved Sierra Nevada. And I long to wake up to the sound of pounding waves, rattling the stone cobbles on some New Zealand beach like cannon shots and rolling out to meet a new day in pristine nature, paddling out and surfing waves and coming back to my little van and making tea with milk and sugar. God god god I want to LIVE, to live to live to live to live.

Avanti! Salut to the simple life, to living free and at ease in the bosom of nature, to stand up for my beliefs and make a statement for what I believe in! Freedom!

2.18.2010
Chomsky
This is amazing---

'...the 18th century succeeded in going beyond what has been called the first emancipatory phase of history, the one which had made serfs our of slaves, to the phase which made wage earners out of serfs. But since at least 1767 insightful revolutionaries have been aware that a wage earner is still a serf, and a serf is still a slave. For Chomsky, in particular, cultural development and committed action in support of social change should contribute to bringing about the conditions for "the fullest, richest, and most harmonious development of the potentialities of the individual, the community and the human race,".... For this to be possible we have to go well beyond the political revolution the libertarians of the Enlightenment strived for, to the economic revolution--the third emancipatory phase of history, which is to make unoppressed creative agents out of wage earners, "a final act of liberation that places control over the economy in the hands of free and voluntary associations of producers."

Well-informed libertarian socialists have always argued that this major transformation cannot be brought about by the conquest and use of power, but only by the general enlightenment and personal commitment of a large number of people willing to struggle for a more just organization of society.'

I can't believe I have waited this long in my life to discover Chomsky. I have found the mentor I never had, and a brother and a colleague. There *is* a voice of reason in this mad world.
2.20.2010
A new perspective
hi thea,

it's apropos to write you since I am enjoying your eponymous nectar right now. in the back yard, early morning, grey sky, but lovely, cool but not cold. lovely. I have some nice things to share with you. I planned to get up uber-early this morning and go to my fave place that makes homemade cinnamon rolls on Saturday and Sunday and get one and fill my coffee mug and then indulge, but I didn't wake up til 8 AM and the truth is I find it very hard to actually drive anywhere when it comes down to it even though the idea always seems great the night before. It's a 20 minute drive to get to the cafe; that's just not right is it? ;-) if I can't bike there then it's really not worth it. so instead I made my wonderful tea and am sitting out here enjoying writing to you and drinking this nectar tea--much healthier all around.

I was up til 4 AM with Chomsky. And that's part of what I want to share with you. I have finally for the first time in my life, discovered Chomsky. I can't believe i have spent my entire life without knowing he was right here all along, like a brother, a father, a friend, a contemporary, a fellow voice of clarity and sanity in a world of hegemonic deception. But now that I have found him it's not so different than when I met you--we looked into each others' eyes and it was instant connection, instant soul to soul, mind to mind, heart to heart connection and love. That was what happened on my first meeting with you, and with Chomsky. And so I have much to share with you and Chomsky is a big part of it, but not the biggest. You know, half the fun of loving life is sharing it with someone you love. So, as they say in the Caribbean fishing village of Puerto Viejo, "Make I tell you":

I have fallen in love with my studies. the very studies that last semester and the beginning of this I found tedious, pointless, hopelessly academic and theoretical, that were simply a means to and end (the masters degree) to another end (a job teaching ESL around the world) which itself was questionable as to its efficacy as serving for a vehicle for social justice and personal expression of brilliance. But suddenly, or perhaps it has been gradual and only seems like a sudden thing, I have fallen in love with my studies. I feel like there has been a cognitive blossoming, a renaissance, an exponential leap in understanding, an explosion of learning. I find myself suddenly waking up and unable to contain myself to get to my next research article or chapter in the text. the different theories and ideas begin to fall into place, to become familiar, to draw me into the world of linguistics, sociolinguistics, cognitive science, and now with the arrival of Chomsky onto the scene, the link between language and social justice and hegemony is forged and I can see how the study of language can become a vehicle to understand and to stand up against, hegemony. Or perhaps I would rather frame it not as standing *against* hegemony, but standing *for* social justice, for having a precise language for dissemination of simple facts, and let the truth do the talking. I would like to be the Johnny Appleseed of facts, planting the seeds of freedom through information and letting them blossom among the population. When hegemony is invisible to the average person, (and that is one of the greatest strengths of hegemony) then the average person can't engage it. How can you engage something you are unaware of the existence of? But language can shine a light into the dark shadows of hegemony and expose its insidious tendrils that are wrapped around every aspect of society and culture as we know it.

When I was a child and a teenager my dream was to find a cause I could believe in and dedicate my life to that cause. And my path in life has been, by virtue of my intrinsic nature, to follow that basic internal blueprint for most of my life, creating visions, manifesting them, and creating new visions. Lately though I have thought that it is harder and harder to find a cause I believe in and to take a stand and action the way I did when I was young. But I wanted to return to this way of living my life. And now, I feel that to some degree the power that is inherent in this new learning is a springboard for a new era of informed activism for social justice in ways that are both intellectual and pristine of heart. So, like anyone who is newly in love, I want to share it with the ones I love the most. So now you know Thea.

Life is indeed sweet and short for certain. As my jump master once prophetically told me seconds before I jumped out of a plane over the ocean in the Philippines, "You have just enough time to do everything right and no time to do anything wrong." Ironically, my chute failed to open, and his words were etched into my mind and helped me to think clearly--"I have just enough time to do everything right and no time to do anything wrong." And life is exactly the same way I think--we have just enough time here to do everything right and no time to do anything wrong. So let's do the right thing. Live deeply, stand up in a sea of madness for what is right and when the waves of hegemony crash against you, be solid like a rock.

Avanti to paradise.

Phoenix

2.22.2010
The breeze at dawn
I wake up at 5 AM with a smile on my face. That smile is my indicator that everything is very right in my life. There are so many reasons why I am content and happy and one of them is simply waking up in my own bed, another is that I have fallen in love with my field of study and realize its potential as an avenue for social justice. After my morning purifications I make oolong and Trinity pu-ehr and sit in the backyard drinking tea. It's 42 degrees. I simply observe and melt into the trees swaying in the wind, the rustling of the leaves, scuttling grey clouds moving across the sky, songs of birds slowly waking up in the cold, wind chimes, the cold seeping into my skin and the tea warming my core. It's heavenly to start the day peaceful in nature.

Saturday night I made the 4 hour drive to the coast and arrived in a heavy fog bank. I took the ferry out to Mustang Island and camped on the beach, listening to the waves all night, banked in fog and drizzle and very happy in the back of the Mothership writing and remembering.

I woke at 5 AM and made tea and oatmeal and watched the sunrise over the ocean and checked the waves. In search of something bigger I drove fifteen miles up the coast along the strip of beach between the sand dunes and waves washing in until I came to a channel with a jetty. I paddled out here into cold brown water in a fog as thick as pea soup and splattering rain. I surfed all day. In the afternoon the sun eventually came out and warmed things up. As I surfed my second session I felt a shift in perception, I became present with the ocean and my surfing took on a new level of intuitive connection with the waves. I wasn't simply in the ocean, apart from it, but I was part of it, keenly observing and noticing it, and that made all the difference. This shift in perception made me realize that engagement in life is all about quality of perception, about seeing. Being present with anything, the ocean, your studies, or another human being, creates an affinity, a oneness with the thing with which we become present that opens a new dimension and higher level of relationship and performance. Life's lessons are where you find them.

Now, as the sky begins to brighten a new day awaits me, my studies call, the planet calls me, the very air, cold and alive, calls me, freedom calls me, my responsibility to grow and develop my potential calls me, and my unique path, winding and crazy, and leading who knows where, calls me.

Avanti!!!
2.28.2010
Sunday morning, Japan on my mind
On a lovely Sunday morning I sit in the backyard at a little table with the birds singing, the bare trees pushing out fresh spring buds, crisp sunlight, a patina of thin clouds moving in from the northwest, cold air temperature and my tea and inner joy. The cold seeps into me but the tea warms the inside. I am excited about completing my first major assignment of this semester today and being free of it. I am a bundled up in a jacket, the thermometer sits at 40 degrees, the pu-ehr is like a thick nectar, the oolong a delicious counter-point. My course of studies has begun to give me a great joy and excitement as the depth of my knowledge in my new field increases and I began to see more and more connections and become more conversant with the research and theories in my field. I find joy in simple pleasures, in familiarity and stability. The joy of waking up smiling at 5 AM and my hour or two of yoga and meditation practices each morning, in the same place, day after day, my tea, my breakfast, the gym, class and study, the coffee shop where I go on Monday and the bike ride along the river to the missions, the things I seek out to give myself a sense of balance and happiness. The thing I am most starved for is intellectual companionship. I miss walking and talking with my friends. I am basically alone here. I went for a long hike yesterday morning and realized that more or less the person I have the most thought-provoking and stimulating conversations with is my own mind.

A departmental colleague invited me over to study and I found out he had lived in Japan and had met and married his Japanese wife, a fellow graduate student in our department, there while teaching for the JET program. It was an exciting hour or two talking about life in Japan, teaching in Japan, food in Japan, the possibility of surf in Japan and by the end of our time together I felt excited about the possibility of using this masters to spend a year teaching in Japan in some small town on the ocean. What Japan has to offer that I love is a crime-fee environment where theft is not a problem, where third-world disease is not a problem, nor the kind of pollution associated with the squalid living conditions in some third-world countries (like Inida), the food is healthy and delicious and the people are educated. How exciting it would be to learn Japanese and furthermore, it is very close to New Zealand, which could be the next stopping point in this new adventure in my life.

This masters has the potential to lead to so much out there in the world and, beyond future job-related potential, I find my field of studies more and more rewarding in and of itself. In a sense I am fortunate to be single and without any ties to hold me back when I graduate, but perhaps that is how I have always set my life up, to stay unattached and without ties that bind.

Here is to a beautiful morning of dreaming about the future and enjoying the present. And basking in the glow of the infinite possibilities that are available, simply waiting to be dreamed and realized. Anything you can dream, you can create and live and make your own.

Avanti!

3.1.2010
AT 5 AM
At 5 AM the moon hangs solo, low in the western sky, round and full exactly like a creamy luminous pear suspended in the pitch blackness of space, all the more beautiful for the dusky surface imperfections that catch my eye. The tree branches stand in silhouette before the moon and the patterns of their shadows crisscross the wet ground forming an intricate lattice. The steam from my breath rises silver in the cold air, rain drops glisten in the moonlight. The only sound is the intermittent pitter patter of falling drops of rain, splattering against the earth. The sound of the tea pouring from my clay pot into my porcelain cup, is sharp and clear against the silence of the wet pre-dawn. The first sip of Long Jing is nectar in my mouth and warmth against the cold. A rooster crows. This moment is perfection.
Perfection in this moment (for Thea)
thea dear,

i want to share this moment with you; it is perfect. I have been out here for an hour watching the moon move down toward the horizon. i feel so wonderful. i feel like i am in chesky krumlov in the czech republic. i feel so deep in my body such a calm elation of the sheer perfection of this moment, this eternal moment that is now. before there was blackness and the glowing pearl of the moon against the blackness all alone. and now as time has passed, the moon has become a yellow off-white, and has sunk right behind the bare branches of a huge tree so the branches form an intricate lattice in front of the moon. the world has gone from complete silence to the singing of birds, just beginning to wake up and the train rumbling on the tracks.

thea dear, it is cold and the steam rises from my breath and the cold bites into my fingers. the sky takes on a shade of grey-blue now, deepening more and more to blue with passing time. the moon, oh such a dreamboat of a moon, sinks behind a band of cloud that cuts it in half, the top and bottom appearing above and below the grey slice of cloud. oh such beauty. such a blessing to be here seeing this, alone in the world.

thea, i drink pu-ehr and long jing, i am happy and content and more. thea dear, i know that soon, when i graduate, with this masters the world will be an open door. i feel the pull already to Japan. can you believe it? ;-) i already feel the pull. and of course i will go to new zealand, but first i feel this new pull to Japan. four islands, delicious food, no crime or disease, educated population. my friends chris and his wife kaori, lived there in her hometown, which happens to be THE surfing spot in Japan. a small town, a 1000 years old, on the beach and only an hour from snow-covered mountains, close to mount fuji. this is where i will live for a year once i graduate thea. mark my words. this is where i will learn japanese, teach yoga, surf and be happy. mark my words. ;-)

now thea dear, the cold bites these fingers and this heart is happy. i will sit here now and just take in the rest of the moon before it sets too low to see. how wonderful are these morning blessings to be here alone from dark to dawn, with the beauty of nature, even here in texas, and even better, to be in MY home. i am not in a hotel, or in the van on the road, i am in MY home. this is my backyard, my tea, in there is my kitchen and my oatmeal and my grapefruit, my shower, my desk and my lamp and my library where i will study all day and do my homework. this is my home now, for a while, there is no more getting up and moving.

the moon takes one more slice between the heavy clouds and then sinks forever into the soft billowing grey cotton and is....gone.
One more for thea
hi thea,

before the cold drives my fingers inside once and for all, i want to try and write one last bit. right now day has come, those grey clouds are stained with red and yellow and orange and the birds are fully alive. that magic hour now seems like a dream, the glowing pearl in the silent black sky a memory.

it reminded me of a night when i hiked through the mountains across the czech republic. it was a peace hike, during the beginning of the war in iraq. i hiked for a couple weeks i think and towards the end i came to the most beautiful town in the world. a castle perched on a granite crag above an oxbow turn in the river below that was so sharp it formed an island in the center and there was the jewel of the town of chesky krumlov. the night i remember was my birthday. and Jana had taken the train from prague to surprise me. we had just met then, only twice in prague before i left. she came and we hiked across the hills and talked about life and came back at dark and looked down at the town from the castle. it was a perfect time. down by the castle she had arranged a surprise birthday cake and a cappuccino, my favorite drink then and she surprised me and the staff all sang happy birthday in czech and it was so wonderful i can't tell you because i had been so so so alone for two weeks hiking in the damp woods.

that night we got a little room in a beautiful tiny old place right on the river and we held each other in the bed and just before morning, just like this morning when the moon was bright and the world asleep, she slipped off her long tee shirt so that she was naked and we made love there, and I can still remember the passion and hunger of her kisses and the beauty and grace of her body, like it was carved at of living marble. (the sun has just struck the tree across the way and set the branches and buds a flaming glowing red) i can remember, even now, the coolness and warmness of her skin and her kisses and the look in her eyes, the longing and the happiness and the surrender. That morning, while it was still dark, as she was getting ready to catch her train back to prague for work, i looked out the little window of our room in this ancient inn down to the river outside and at the silence of the predawn world and the moon in the sky, and there, sitting on a bench against another ancient building across the river, a boy and a girl also made love, in public, thinking the rest of the world was asleep. and this was prague. and life moves always forward. avanti to past present and future. avanti to love and passion. and to magic moments.

3.7.2010
The advantages of buying non-organic produce
Ever since I stopped buying organic produce at Whole Foods (the only store in this fine town that actually sells organic produce) a few weeks ago and switched to buying conventional non-organic produce at HEB, the local chain, I have literally cut my food bill by nearly 50%.

I have also had chronic gastro-intestinal trouble, cramps and diarrhea which I just realized is being caused by this pesticide-rich, filthy, inexpensive conventional produce I've been eating. Not to mention the flavorlessness and poor quality of the fruit and vegetables and the overall level of consciousness associated with shopping in a chain. Buying conventional clearly is a great economic value. At face value at least. At a cost of personal and environmental well being. I will happily spend more and live healthy.

3.7.2010
Now is the best time
I was shocked when some young progressive friends told me they believed that since nothing they could do would make a difference they chose to just use their money to enjoy life and have a good time. If you don't think you can make a difference, that we can make a difference, then you are absolutely crazy and unaware of history! The political liberties and freedoms we have today aren't birthrights, they are the product of a long, ongoing struggle and were won for us by those who came before us. Being aware of and not being duped by the hegemony requires vigilance and action. But there has never been a better time to be an activist than right now! Life is too short not to live for the things that matter most and much too short to live as a pawn of those who would use you to their own ends.

3.8.2010
This morning

This morning is too perfect not to write about. It rained all night long; I left my window open to hear it. And this morning the weather is grey and wet and overcast and a cool breezy 58 degrees. The air smells sweet with spring and with brand new blossoms. Was it only a few days ago that the first buds appeared on my tree? This morning they have opened into green leaves, broken out overnight in the warm spring rain. Spring is here, right now, today, this must be the very second that spring arrived. And I am sitting in this wonderful grey, wet world, letting the breeze caress my hair and skin, listening to the wind chimes, drinking an impeccable Long Jing from my clay pot in my cracked porcelain cup and feeling very calmly happy and wonderful at this weather, this moment, this life, these possibilities.

There is no time like right now to step outside, get down on your knees, and kiss the ground and smell the wet earth, lie on your back on the earth and let the rain fall down on your face. Life is a gift. A gift of infinite possibility. Life is an ocean and each of us is a ship and we can sail where we choose. Find the compass in your heart and the stars of your dreams to steer by and set sail for a course of fulfillment.

Avanti!!!

3.9.2010
A new day in heaven…on earth
I'm just sending this to a few friends who are on my mind this morning. My mid-term is over, spring break begins for me tonight at 8:30 PM. There is a certain weight off my shoulders with the completion of my mid-term. This morning is sublime. The world is like a misty watercolor--soft and wet and gently alive. The air is damp with mist and fog and the earth is soaked with last night's rain. The doves are cooing, birds waking up and coming to life in the tree-tops. The trees themselves, tall oaks and unknown others, standing so beautifully silent and peaceful in the soft, silencing mist with their brand new leaves bright green against the grey, are the most salient visual feature in this backyard world of mine. The birds the most salient sonic feature, along with the train rumbling down the tracks and the church bells chiming. The sense of deep peace, stillness, almost silence, as though everything were wrapped in cotton, like an early morning on a lake in mist, where sounds travel far across the water and the world is consummately still.

I drink green tea of course, a gift from a Japanese friend, from my gaiwan. The tea is strong and mixes with my blood and crawls into my brain. The warmth of it in my belly counterpointing the damp coolness of the morning on my skin. Sitting in this quiet slipstream, there is not a lot on my mind--an overall gentle sense of relief and release that the mid-term is over and my work load today is lighter than usual, a secret feeling inside of happiness knowing that I am closer and closer to actually holding this masters degree in my hand. Which will be like holding a key that can unlock certain locks that open doors into worlds that I want to step into. Japan. New Zealand.

I have planted the seed of Japan in my mind and it has quickly taken root and grown until I can see it, feel it and taste it. I see a small town on the coast, a beautiful rocky coast with blue water, waves where I surf, and beyond, countryside leading to the mountains where I can hike, tea, lots of fine tea, a new language to learn, new people to meet and a new culture to embrace. Educated people, delicious, healthy food, crime-free environment, sacred shrines, lots of hiking, tradition and culture; I am so excited imagining it. And this summer, backpacking the John Muir Trail in my beloved Sierra Nevada, miles on the trail, alone and with a friend, camping under the sky, drinking stream water, lots of time to think and dream and pray with gratitude, reuniting with friends along the California coast. And then, soon, back to New Zealand, land of my heart.

And now it's time to begin my day. Thank you friends for indulging my writing habit. Avanti, to the future, however long or short it may be, whatever it may hold, ah, better yet, to the present, which is timeless and eternal. If there were no future, no illness and no death, if life were distilled to only this moment, this breath, then how precious, how eternal, would this mystery become. I raise my cup to this mystery, to this precious eternal now.

3.16.2010
The massage, the storm, the moment
Last night, after giving an intense energy massage for two hours I stepped out into my backyard to find that it was raining. I simply sat down and melted into the moment. I *saw* the trees swaying in the night, I felt them inside me, I felt at one with...everything. And I realized that is the effect of the tantric massage. It has the profound ability to act as a vehicle to put me immediately in an altered state of consciousness, not unlike the LSD experiences I had as a teenager, where I simply become part of everything, take in everything, drink in everything, have a feeling of deep and complete peace and contentment, of belonging and being a part of a whole, of being one.

The tantric massage has that same effect. I notice it time after time. When it's over there is nothing but pure clarity. Sounds and colors come alive, I become completely present in the now. I simply sat last night, knowing that it was cold and wet, but not feeling the cold, or the wet, generating my own internal heat and being utterly here, completely belonging, no need to do anything at all but just be part of, that was completion in itself.

My friend came out and said "Its freezing out here!" She put her hand on me and said "You're hot!". And it was true, my body temperature wasn't effected by the external environmental temperature but was regulating itself.

I was so entranced I couldn't even answer; I *was* the storm, the wind, the trees blowing. Eventually, I got a blanket and a pillow put them on the ground, under the little roof that sticks out into the back yard and I spent the night lying in the storm, feeling so connected to something so peaceful and safe and warm and now and here that was inside me and that I was inside of.

There is nothing but perfection here, waiting to be seen. There is no fear, there is no other, there is no self, there is nothing separate.

3.23.2010
Joy
I wake up at 5 AM and do my purifications, meditation, asana practice and pranayama. Somewhere in the middle of the asana flow I feel a happiness bubbling up from my belly, up my spine, into my heart, and out my head into a smile that I can't contain. I feel such an incredible joy; I can't believe this gets to be *my* life. I feel safe, content, fulfilled, alive, awake, at peace. My daily yoga practice is like a rock, a foundation. Grad school is challenging and rewarding and has infinite potential and ramifications for real-life application. I am so happy to have a home and the stability that brings. I love grocery shopping and cooking and studying and all the domestic things that are so pleasurable and create such a feeling of security. I wake up smiling and I go to sleep excited for morning to come. My morning espresso, on my Bialetti stove-top espresso steamer with Illy coffee from Italy is a gem. The smell of my steel-cut oats slowly cooking while I do yoga makes me smile with anticipation. Sitting here in the cold, early morning dark blue sky, under the tree with the birds coming alive and writing is a wonderful luxurious way to start the day and compose my thoughts and share my joy. Verdant spring is here.

I love my new-found mountain biking, the long, hard hikes in the wilderness park, working out at the gym, getting more and more in shape every week. I love my electric guitar and my music. I love studying. I love the cold on my skin this moment. And I love, I so love, knowing that out there are all my friends. The ones who love me and who I love. In Santa Cruz, Cardiff, Ventura, Portland, Seattle, Denver, Boston, Tucson, NYC, New Zealand, Australia, Spain, Nepal, India, England, Italy, all over the world. The sky is blushing champagne pink now; the cold is chilling my bones. Last week I spent fifteen hours a day for four days in the field of live music and I swear it revitalized me, healed me, enlivened me. Three hours of sleep per night, diamond moments with friends, and pure expressions of other people's art and creative outpouring of music--I feel reborn and renewed by it. Life!

I had intense moments when the music reached deep into me and opened up the deepest recesses of my psyche and released ancient memories from my past and in these moments of altered being, in a trance-like state, I felt the intense flood of emotions that release with buried memories surfacing. I thought of the great loves of my life, Parmajit, Jennifer, Kimberly and Brianna, and all the other girls who have loved me and I have loved, and wondered what it would have been like to have married and be home with my wife and children right now, making dinner, making love, lying in bed with my arms around the one I love and feeling her breathing, being familial, to have a family, instead of standing in a crowd in a wall of sound at 2 AM and having spent my life on the road, traveling, adventuring, never settling down, always moving onward? I wondered what I have traded and given up for my life of adventure and freedom and if I had made the right choice and if it was worth what I had given up. But now, in the present moment, with this joy in my body, this is enough. Perhaps whatever path we choose, the road less traveled or the one most common, we wonder what the other outcome might have been.

Here's to the crooked, unimproved roads of genius.

Avanti!

3.28.2010
Morning
I have been out here since before dawn, on Sunday morning. I began with Trinity pu-ehr from the Chinese clay pot, wrapped in a Patagonia jacket and the air was still and cold. I drank my tea and felt as though my jacket were a kind of shelter I was wrapped in, keeping out the cold. The morning was perfect. I simply sat and felt the peace and joy throughout my body. Gradually the sun exploded into a lucent, early morning light that has given the trees and their fresh spring leaves a vivid glow, a rich, vibrant color against the blue sky. I sit in the cold shade still, but light has come to the treetops which dance now in the wind that has come with the warmth of the sun. The trees dance and bow their heads, they prance like ponies. I sit and feel the cold air on my cheeks and hair and ears. I've switched to a green Japanese tea now, from a porcelain gaiwan. The doves coo like a mad soothing symphony.

These mornings are like some kind of earthly paradise. A time for dreaming, thinking, for simply being, feeling the elements, the wind and cold, deep in my bones and flesh. The sounds of wind chimes and birds and wind in the trees. Relishing the present while feeling the excitement of the future. Relishing the challenge of the grad school experience and knowing that there is a mystery waiting for me. Where will I go when I graduate? France, Japan, New Zealand? A small town or village on the ocean at the base of some mountains where I can surf and teach and do yoga and sit and drink my morning cafe au lait with baguette, or red wine, cheese and baguette in a cafe, or sake and sushi, while writing haiku, or beer around a fire on the beach at night with guitar, or what? What future awaits me? Will I love again some day? Will I be a father some day and have a family? Will I ever have a settled life? Or will I always be an adventurer? A lover of freedom? A dreamer of dreams and a manifestor of those dreams?

Ah, life, life, you mad adventure, you mad lover, who leads me on, always, to new vistas and new dreams, new challenges, new ideas, new landscapes, outer and inner. Ah life, you short sweet tingling kiss. How I love your gifts.

3.31.2010
Broken
Doing dips was putting a weird vector of pressure on my chest, but the guy next to me was cranking them out and so I decided finish my set. On the tenth dip I heard a crack that was so loud I looked around to see what the hell had just snapped. Then I felt the pain. Then I realized the crack had come from inside my chest. I walked to the front desk of the gym at the UTSA Rec Center and told the two guys at the desk that something just snapped in my chest while doing dips and that I was in severe pain. They looked at me and said, "Do you want us to do something?" I said, "I'm passing out now" and passed out. Once on the floor with them looking down at me when I came to, they asked, "Do you need anything?" "Yes, I need something, I just passed out. Activate your EMS system." "Our what?" "What is your protocol for an emergency?" "Our what?" "OK, prop up my feet, get me an ice pack for my chest and call 911." "We better call a supervisor first." After going through the same dialogue with the supervisor, another college kid, who kept telling me that UTSA was not responsible for my injury, and did I have any witnesses, they finally called the UTSA police, who finally arrived and after a few questions told me he had no medical training at all. It was almost beginning to be funny.

But all good things come to an end and eventually I called my dad to come get me and take me to the ER. "Son I have duty at church tonight and I can't let Father Dan down. Call me at 8:30 tonight when I get done with church." It was 3 PM. "Dad, I am laying on the floor of the gym with something broken in my chest. I don't think I can lay here til 8:30." "Well I can't let Father Dan down son." I was thinking about misplaced loyalties and priorities but didn't mention that. "OK, dad, no problem." An ambulance came and tried to convince me to let them take me to the ER. I told them I didn't have insurance and they said, "Oh don't worry about that, that's no problem." "Well it will be when you send me the bill." "Oh, we tell people not to worry about the bill." I talked to these guys from my on my back for about half an hour and finally, when no one else could hear, the head ambulance guy told me, "We're supposed to convince you to go with us and not allowed to tell you how much it costs, but don't do it; it's ridiculously expensive." By now we had pretty much of a circus there around me, cops, ambulance guys, the Rec Center staff, janitorial staff, someone had set up a stand selling sno cones. (not really the sno cones, but the rest yes).

Eventually I just got up and walked out to my car but I couldn't open the door of my car because I couldn't turn the key in the door lock because my chest hurt too bad. The ambulance guys were hanging out by my car and chatting with me. They were getting paid anyway so they didn't care anymore. The school cop had come out by then and we were all talking smack about injuries and almost having fun. It was kind of like an EMS tailgate party. We just needed some beer. Eventually my dear old dad came through in the clench and got someone else to cover his duty at church and picked me up and took me to the ER at the VA hospital.

The VA hospital is always good for a few laughs. These are the folks who once operated on my knee and afterward told me nothing was wrong with it. The same folks who once told me that there was nothing wrong with my (other) knee when I hyper-extended it with a 50 lb pack on and said I should see a neurologist, and who in an all-time award winner told me in 2004 that I only had a few years left. "Left until what?" was my query. Ah, the VA. What a pleasure to be back with my old friends.

In this case though, they pulled through and by 10:30 that night, only about five hours after I arrived, they had determined that I had broken my manubrium. And that I should do nothing for about six weeks. (I saw the x-ray and even I could see the nasty looking caved-in ragged tear on the bone. Not a pretty thing to look at.)

For two days I took vicodin, but yesterday when I woke up I decided I'd rather be in pain than be drugged. Today I am so sore I don't want to talk about it. But worse than sore I realize that all my summer plans have been unplanned for me in one quick snapping second. Because if this doesn't heal for six weeks that means I can't swim, do yoga, work out at the gym, bike, mountain bike, maybe even hike for six weeks. And that means I can't surf until at least May 9th, if even then. So this morning I am not as happy about everything as I usually am. It's part pain, part flushing out two days of vicodin and part beginning to realize that six weeks might have an impact on the four months of summer adventure I had planned. Well, when in doubt, make tea. It could be worse; I could have voted for McCain

April 4 2010
Grief

There are moments when it comes back, all of a sudden out of nowhere, up from my guts. One minute I’m fine, and then there it is, like it’s always just under the surface, waiting to come back. The pain, the sadness that never really goes away. It’s called grief. No matter how much time passes there is always something that can trigger the memories, the feelings; I can see her smiling, hear her voice, see the look in her eyes and then I can’t really stand it. The tears come. I have to turn my head away. The truth is that I really don’t think I will ever fall in love again. And of course I will never be able to bring her back. So that leaves me over half way through my life and what? Time. Just time and decline.

4.6.2010
Pro-life?
It just occurred to me that pro-lifers made a politically wise tactic in deciding to call themselves 'pro-life' instead of 'anti-abortion' (which is what they actually are). The term pro-life implies not only that they are for life but that their opposition must therefore be against life. Which naturally led to the question, 'Is the average pro-lifer also against the death penalty?' Because if you are pro-life, hence, against death, then you must not be in favor of killing any human being. But my guess is that the average pro-lifer is probably the same person who is for the death penalty. Therefore a more accurate name for pro-lifers might be pro-conservatives. It's not actually life they are for, but liberal ideas they are against. It is the conservative agenda they are for.

4.6.2010
Depression and its cures
This morning sitting in the backyard at dawn on a gorgeous morning I realized I was having symptoms of what is termed "depression" which caused me to reflect on the construct of depression. 95% of the time in my life I wake up already smiling, happy and excited to begin my day. But there have been a few times in my life when I recognized the symptoms of what in our society has been labeled depression. In each of these cases I was aware that there were good reasons that caused me to feel 'depressed' and that when I addressed the causes the depression would pass. Depression was not a cause for concern but more of a friendly wake up call. For instance, right now my broken sternum and stress around grad school deadlines are the causes; when my sternum heals and I can surf, do yoga, bike, hike, swim, work out, and drive again, and finish this semester I'll return to being happy. When I first moved to San Antonio, being in a hot asphalt jungle far from my friends and Santa Cruz and surfing caused it; I found ways to be happy here. In India, at the end of my trip, the unbelievable heat, pollution, culture shock and my near-death experiences were the cause; I left India and got over it. The grief over my break-up with Brianna was a past cause of depression; time relieved it. In each instance there was a clear reason for my feelings, a cause, and a clear solution. I identified the cause and found a way to overcome and fix the 'problem', i.e. changing the situation.

This morning under the tree I knew it was a beautiful day but I couldn't 'see' anything or feel anything. It's like there is a veil in front of my eyes that is grey, and that's all I can see--the grey. I can't feel emotions, just grey. That's what depression feels like to me. It's different from anxiety or stress. (The anxiety will start in a few minutes when I begin working on my assignment) ;-)

The next thing that occurred to me is that most of the people in our country who are clinically diagnosed and treated for depression, often with medication, and are told the problem is a chemical imbalance, are in the same boat I am in. There is a reason for their depression. But their reason may not be clear to them because it might be chronic, pervasive and subliminal. Mine is clear to me because it stands in such sharp counterpoint to my normal feelings of happiness. And those normal feelings of happiness are engendered by the lifestyle I live because I have almost always, since I was a kid, followed my heart and never followed or believe what society told me was the right way to live. Since I was old enough to think for myself I was highly suspicious of what society told me I should do and how I should live and the hidden motives behind these social conventions.

I posit that most people who suffer from the malaise of chronic depression don't need medication or psychological treatment (those are just tactics used by the medical industries to keep themselves viable). What these people really need is to discover the reason that is creating their depression. And my bet would be that it is their lifestyle. They have sold out their own inner voice for the louder voice of corporate America that told them to buy into the system. And because of the invisible nature of hegemony these people don't realize that the problem is not with them, but with the life they've been sold into. The manufactured consent they have tacitly agreed to and participate in. But their inner compasses know that something is very wrong, that the life they are living is antithetical to what it means to be a human being. And hence the depression. And the social system, the hegemony, quickly sends them to the doctor who medicates them into numbness or feeling good and tells them everything will be OK thanks to modern medicine and drugs.

I posit that depression, for most people, is actually a sign of a healthy psyche and human being who realizes something is wrong with their life. But because of the pervasive power and invisible nature of hegemony, they can't see the reasons for their unhappiness; they can't put their finger on what is wrong. They don't have a clear reference and counter-point to measure against. Most people are afraid to leave the lives they are familiar and comfortable with, their jobs, their bills, their superfluous possessions paid for by a debt system dconstructed to turn them into wage slaves. And that is exactly why credit was created--to create wage slaves; to put the masses in the power of the state, which today has become the corporate state.

Life is very short, far shorter than most of us ever realize until the end is near. Living one's life asleep, in a dream, against one's own best interest to support a system that feeds off of the average citizen of this planet would create depression in almost anyone. But medication and therapists won't cure this ill, only freedom will cure it. And freedom is only found deep in your own gut. Because each person is unique and so is their freedom.

Break the golden chains. Step into the unknown. Create a revolution in your heart.

4.10.2010
Best baked squash recipe
I just made this recipe up a couple days ago and want to share it. It's delicious. As for diet, I have just switched to a new diet for a while--lots of organic fruit and vegetables, both raw and cooked. But lots. with some sprouted legumes and sprouted grains. and wild salmon. I am trying this diet out to see if it helps my bone heal faster and also because I have "genetically" sky-rocketing cholesterol and something tells me that the statin drugs the doctor is trying to push down my throat aren't a good answer to the problem. I could be wrong about the statin drugs, but something in my gut say 'No, don't do it.' Sometimes I have to admit I have some doubts about whether the goal of modern medicine is to prolong and enhance life, or to prolong and enhance profits for the drug companies, hospitals and doctors.
Best Baked Butternut Squash, with faux sausage and buffalo mozzarella balls
Ingredients:
One butternut squash
One Tofurkey (faux) Italian sausage (sundried tomatoes and basil)
Mini mozzarella balls (fresh buffalo mozzarella)
Salt
Pepper
Directions:
Preheat oven to 400 degrees
Cut squash in half along long axis and remove seeds
Place face-up in baking pan with ¼ of water in bottom of pan
Bake for 40 minutes, then remove and remove cooked meat from squash, mash up and place back in skin (or use a fork or masher and mash it while still in the skin)
Slice tofurkey sausage in half and then slice each half into think rounds and place one half of sausage on half of squash and the other half on the other half of squash.
Return to oven and bake 5 more minutes.
Remove from oven and place mini mozzarella balls along squash. Return to oven and bake for 5 more minutes.
Remove, very lightly salt and pepper and enjoy. Amazing!

4.11.2010
There is a magic
There is a magic in my backyard that gives me a feeling of peace, of safety, of sanctuary that is a wonderful thing to experience. Watching the tree branches and leaves sway back and forth, undulating in the wind mesmerizes me. The sound of the leaves rustling gently in the wind is one of the most soothing sounds I have ever heard, and the cool feel of it on my skin and in may hair is fresh and alive. Before dawn I sit in a chair under the tree in the blackness and watch the morning slowly creep in little by little. The sky begins to lighten from black to grey, the morning breeze begins, the birds slowly awake and vocalize, only one or two here and there at first, and then as the morning progresses through its stages they gradually all come alive and play a symphony of bird songs--the cooing of the doves, trill of the woodpeckers, the twitter of the little brown birds and calls of the grackles, like broken glass in a kaleidoscope, all blending together in a wonderful melody . Throughout the day I study and work and eat my meals in the backyard. At night I used to lie on my back under the tree and look up at its branches swaying, alive in the night. Now because of my sternum, I stand under the tree at night and look up at the branches and feel the magic and absolute peace of my backyard.

There is a love in this world, deeper than our egos, like a river that flows through us and through all things, like an ocean that we are deep under; a love that is so fulfilling and heart-warming, so complete, that it contains the love of family and nature and all things within it. This is the truth that underlies our egos and our fears, and it is always there, waiting to be experienced. To real love.

4.17.2010
The Joy of being alive
I sit in a pouring rain, wrapped up in a hoody, sweatpants and warn socks in the damp cold air. The rain blows against me. The sky is dark grey; morning hasn't come yet. This is pure heaven. As close to heaven on earth as could be. I drink green tea out of my clay pot and feel its warmth move down my throat and into my belly and then its magic climb slowly from my core up my spine into my brain and turn on like a light, then spread through my body. For me, this is the peak moment of life--sitting in a cold rain, wrapped up against the damp, drinking green tea out of my chipped porcelain cup and being here now. The pounding of the raindrops, the swaying of the tree branches, the trembling of the leaves, the quivering of each blade of grass as the rain strikes it and rebounds into the air before falling finally into the earth, the sound of the wind chimes. This is perfect.

Two weeks of school left. One final, two major projects and one presentation to go. And then, on May 5th, I get in the Mothership and I drive west. West into the wild, into the unknown, without a plan, and with the wind blowing me where it will. I have four months of freedom ahead of me and my only 'plan' is to get lost in nature. To hike deep into slot canyons and redrock country, into high mountains and snowy passes, to swim naked in ice-cold snow-melt lakes and rivers, to play my guitar beside my little camp fires at night, to be free and alone in the heart of nature.

Avanti Avanti Avanti--into the unknown, into the mystery, as life unfolds with every breath.