The Wind of Our Nature

How do I express the thousand feelings bouncing around me right now?

On one hand: the excesses and greed of modern society being painful to watch

On one hand: I am so very joyful in simply being myself.

On one hand: Reaching out to just help another person.

On one hand: Working a job without love.

On one hand: Supporting those I do love.

On one hand: Just living, not worrying about anything except this moment.

On one hand: Realizing I only have two hands yet, my hands seem everywhere

On one hand: Pondering juggling thoughts 5, 10, 20 and 30 years old: all these ideas weaving together as I riddle out the answers about magic and nature.

On one hand: Just sipping some warm green tea.


to living as living in living
one moment at a time
to the whims

of the wind.

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somehow all this made me feel better

I can be the wind
ever tightly spiraling
etching eroding out
aspects of my nature.

Its never easy to be yourself is it?

and here is a secret, ready?

people live through the hard times on purpose
to give time to the forces of nature
to erode away and reveal
the inner beauty of who we are.

:)

Work Banter

My workplace is one of banter.
The conversations are always a mental workout as people slip in the daggers or side kicks as family often does in chat.

Walking in the door

Regina: "He is a slacker"
Everyone looking over Laughing: "Yah..oh.. yes... its casey"
Casey: "Thanks"
Everyone: returning back to their main converstation
Kris: "I rode my bike "
(keep in mind Kris just spilled last week on the bike
and is nursing two broken ribs, 3 cracked vetabrate and bruised organs)
Everyone: Blanky staring at Kris in amazement
Casey: "Its the flying isnt it"
Kris: Eyes glaze over : "yes"
Casey: " You are addicted"
Everyone: stares at me
Regina: "You called Kris a dick!"
Kris: "Thats what I heard"
Casey: "No Addicted"
Everyone: "you called Kris a dick"

It just went down hill from there, the pace has been set
Its going to be a good day in the realm of banter today.

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Other than that the other hightlight was This weekend I wrote a poem (partly):

Its started:

Not a fucking cloud in the sky...

At which point Mars declared it to be my best poem ever. Julie just laughed, I ignored my critics dropped the poetry and went back to sleep under the cloudless sky. I wasn't very poetic this weekend, so being sun lazy seemed the best course to follow.

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End of journal, back to living, or "cough" working for a living...

Spam

Here is some spam I got today:

bombastic the assume,
ethylene may burlesque
some cruise see barnes bucolic on edge
the sorenson or alpheratz be atypic

This is fucking poetry! As a kid in english class would you rather read this or T S Elliot ?


I think pretty soon congress is going to begin writing legislation in this style also. I mean this piece of spam is clearer than the patriot act.

So the truth of this: Members of the US congress should be spammers and spammers should be writing our laws.

Such a messed up world isnt it?

No explanations please

Crying alone
emotional jambalaya tumbling out.

Why? how can I explain:
the sadness, the joy, the depression, the wonder.
These tears blend as a beaten mixture now.
Their taste not of any one ingredient.

Crying alone
each tear lightens my soul.

One day I will fly
free falling to weightlessness.




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Why explain? Just experience rolling into yourself and unfolding again.

Helping someone isn't to stop the tears. Water is truth and let it flow to where it needs to go. Be the rain of your life.

Life as Bamboo

Bamboo bending, to the storms of living
high above drumming leaves
the sound of rain
within sun of the day.


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The one thing that struck me amidst the palm trees and bamboo stands was the sound of rain the leaves made as they clattered in the rustling of wind, yet at the same time walking in the sun of a clear day.

Living within the Tao, means embracing the rain of our own movement.

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¡grazias Laura!
The world is indeed small as we greet others unexpectedly.

...

Being alive is not to be empty
Our lives fill in the empty space
of what we are

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It is interesting: To be alive
is to be many things
but life is never empty
In fact our lives fill in the void
which becomes: us

so many insist on filling it with empty things: paperwork, complaints, television, pain relievers, greed, material items and other cargo...


Sorry, this is all bullshit. I am going outside to get some sun...








Tags: Tao | Taoism

Aging

My friend Kris just had a bad bike accident and we were talking about the creaks and pains in the body. He looked at me and said:

"Age is the accumulation of insults to the body"

I thought this was a great quote. I also think as a Taoist, that living in the moment, flowing to what feels right, literally shrugging off most of the insults thrown upon the body, has the result of your body and mind staying in pretty youthful shape.

Calm waters

Change

When I first wrote "A Personal Tao", the work was meant to flow. That means many things for me, on one level that meant the work would change with time. To date, I have gone thru four iterations and I have two more planned iterations before I feel the first complete version of the book will be mature.

Right now the book is like a teenager ready to run into the world, but still getting slapped around to learn where best to go next.

As I am squarely in the fifth iteration, I am wondering about how best to polish the work. I took a month off from writing so I could look at it from a different angle. Handed out copies to strangers and friends alike to get more feedback to reflect against. Part of me is eager to move forward and yet, I have to wait since it's critical to hear how others think, feel and need in order to polish the work to the whims of the larger culture.

Its the erosion of time which will carve out the words to reveal the real beauty of the writing and art.

Yet being so human I want to rush out and create. Its been an interesting balance of living, creation, watching
and... just flowing.

But things have been quiet for me personally, and it feels like my life is a pool of water not really moving around, so as a result I am not writing very much since I tend to write when moving or being around edges alot. The best time to write is when being a waterfall I have discovered as the words just flow at that point to describe the experience.

I am really just pondering this to help figure where I want to be in this quiet moment.

Where does that leave me... I guess crafting simple poems and watching the world as I have been doing for years and will continue to do, till I pass on back into myself.

so right now I am standing back on a cloud covered mountain
...

Sentinel Pines
Standing as dark ghosts
In the pale white mist
clouds moving on past

Cloud mountain
We might be standing over the earth
but our feet are rooted down for miles

passing by

Been out and about. Hiking and exploring with my daughter Brisamina
Visiting friends helping Julie and just changing pace to shake loose my routine

two excerpts of poems I am working from the hikes last week:

On the volcano:
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Mist racing up gullies
A river running in reverse
climbing the mountain
in white cloud rapids


In a Bamboo forest and gullies
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Walking thru
A Bamboo Cathedral
Complete with stained grass windows
letting pass tinted shades of green




Brismina might be only 9 months old, but wrapped up
in the Maya wrap, we can go pretty much anywhere
so we were rock hopping and exploring the nooks and crannies
of new places. She just loved it. And I got to explore a new island.

It was also great to see Holly again and just kick back with Julie a bit.


And getting home today, the cherry petals were raining down, swirling in the streets.
One of my favorite times of the year is seeing those petals drifting in crazy patterns in tune to the wind.

Not a bad week at all. Now it's time to get back to work on the personal tao book for a little while.