but pray

the way

a wolf howls

to the moon


Wow, I was depressed a year ago when I wrote this. Glad I feel different now.

So much love inside, somehow stored up within me.

Heart wants to find a deeper harmony with everything within and without.  And an exhilirating action and immediacy from that harmony.

A vague, unresolved sadness sometimes clouds the heart.  Sometimes the heart shines through.

Heart wants to find a deeper harmony with everything within and without.  A deeper acceptance of self.  A harmony beyond what I like and what I don’t.  A harmony as a deeper acceptance of self, of mistakes made and regrets bourne.  Harmony with all days and moods good and bad/stupid and brilliant.

“And an exhilirating new action and immediacy from within that harmony.”

More action and living immediacy from that harmony.

From the suppleness of that harmony and from the looseness of self-acceptance comes a greater capacity for action and adventure.  Lucidity and spontaneity.

Sadness sometimes clouds the heart and frames one’s thoughts (almost imperceptibly) until the heart shines through.

Sadness sometimes clouds the soul and frames one’s thoughts, until the full heart can shine through.

Yes, that above thought came from deep down.  I’ve been noticing how a sadness sometimes haunts me.  Maybe I notice it more now as it seems to be breaking down and fading.  It likes to come at me when I’m lying in bed, vulnerable and half awake.  Maybe its just leftover sadness from accumulated life, half-resolved and cloud-like.  Like an energetic slime that sticks.  Music has become more painful in the last five years.  Having gained more experience in the world, I know it’s pains.  Old songs come back with added pain and meaning, yet sound even better because of this.  Like “That’s The Way,” by Led Zeppelin sounds better than ever.  I hear that musical, knowing salt in worldly wounds.  But then again, knowing yourself better through time (or knowing nothing at other times?), the heart can shine through, accept and encompass that sadness.  There’s a temptation to face all that sadness, to rush into it like into a violent storm.  Shine and burn through it.  Rise and break the whispering, muttering spell of it.

The mind speaks the wishes of the heart.  But are these words always accurate? Sometimes more than others.

August 21, 2012


The future lies in high tech, agrarian tribal culture. Layin around naked in a thatch hut. My naked friends Chenola, Holanda and Jilly stop by my hut to babble stories about how hilarious, stressful and insane the 20th and 21st centuries were, listen to my contented ravings, stand on my aching back and read each other books about Norse shamanism and spin records. Pan the goat god showed up at the waterfall today and scared Jilly off her vine. The nymphs were pissed about being jostled awake by a splash and human laughter. Something like that. Find a flow to be rolled with to make a groovier world. Not complaining, and not going to rant against capitalism and hyper-industrialization, cause they’re phases that generations can glean something good from. Some of the products of capitalism are undeniably beautiful: architecture, popular film and fast cars with cheekbones. Seems like life is made to be artificially boxy when truly it’s much more curvy and ephemeral. It seems that science and mysticism are found to co-exist lately. will culture evolve?

The future?


At the very end of a 12 hour shift tonight, I saw a fox whose fur was like the grey breath of a ghost spirit. A silver fox? It walked (walked? Haha! Does that kind of being walk?) across the rails not thirty feet from where I stood at the entrance to the engine house. We stared at each other, stilled and knowing. The fox moved calmly off into the night. Impeccably itself, aware and free in the wholeness of it’s being. I could almost see the color of eyes like sapphire through grey. Looked like a cat, I almost had to ask. What would Lucy say? Maybe that we want to move into that spirit world with them, those spirit-animals, but that they’re just our teacher for the moment. And that there’s much more to do. Those reverent encounters with animals mean a lot, if allowed to. It seems that wild animals are more calm around me the older I get, as I grow more….?



Before moving down to the Detroit area from Northern Michigan almost a year ago, I was working at my polski cousin’s plant nursery temporarily. There was an older native lady who worked there named Lucy. “Watch your back down there,” she advised just before I left on my last day. She wasn’t kidding either. I met some of the most insecure, square, nosey, suspicious males I’ve even met in my life working in New Boston, MI. Had a lot of other hassle going down too. But I came away from there with a new locomotive engineer’s license and a new job that pays 2.5 times what I made in New Boston to start. Life is good. Persisted through to the goal. What me worry? So I wonder what Lucy would say about this move out West. I drove out to Carlsbad and walked around a mountaintop tonight, tripping over cactus, joshua trees and the piles of money that are coming out of my ass that I don’t know what to do with yet. I’m pretty sure I’m happy, glad, thankful and more relaxed than I’ve been in quite a while. Sometimes it’s hard to know why life takes you places. But you’ll know when you’ve won in a sense. When you’re on the path. The two are the same. I think I’ll plant this half-dead potted plant from the nursery next to a pond in this town in New Mexico. Cause..the cycle is complete, or the plant doesn’t want to be in a pot anymore..or something. Cause I’m rad as fuck and because the Eagle has Landed, yeah..

From Houston We Have A Problem to The Eagle Has Landed.