Leftover Land

 It's not the first time that I've disappeared into the wilderness void.  I Find myself battling my own psyche with a statement that I deal only in absolutes. Saying such a thing contradicts my very essence, even thinking this way is a form of an absolute therefore continuously spiraling. 

The mountains have a way of exciting my soul and calming my mind simultaneously. 

As I meditate,  we meet on these mountaintops. This energy lasts eternally, or does it not? Gathered around a hexagonal fire full of stones, this is a familiar meeting place.

I'm not much for extremely large gatherings, the intimacy  of a small group is something I am more fond of. The camp and tribe here has a way of bringing us together like a family.  This is a way of living that has been lost amongst society. Every night we build a fire and connect through stories while creating warm memories. 

In a few days I may take another cosmic journey, entering with questions, entering with intent. Should there be intent? Is this hypocritical to the way of the Tao? "Taoist ethics vary depending on the particular school, but in general tend to emphasize wu wei (action without intention), "naturalness", simplicity, spontaneity and the Three Treasures: 慈, "compassion", 儉, "frugality" and 不敢為天下先, "humility".

I am because we are, we are because I am. Peace is in letting go, peace is external and internal. Peace is infinitely up to the creator's perception, this is free will and this is not. All is balanced, all is everything, all is you, all is me and all is nothing. Speaking in absolutes, this is not my essence. Forming bonds with others and with the self becomes absolutes of some sort. I cannot speak on the infinite, that which has no beginning or end. Is this another absolute? 

We have designated a place in the fridge as leftover land, this is a good place and as close to an absolute as I can define although easily replaced or forgotten. 

This Never Happened

The truth will get you high. It's been seven years since it happened. I'm not sure because I don't keep track... maybe 5 or 6. I rollerbladed over the bridge and cops picked me up and gave me a ride to the side of the beach. Cruising the coast was always a balance of wild and clean fun. Muscle cars, hotrods and bikes everywhere which clearly I'd only enjoyed once, there wouldn't be any enjoyment this time. I tried to get her in the car because she was slurring her speech and didn't have a grip. There were two or three older guys talking about taking her to their camper trailer and I tried to interject and was immediately met with hostile opposition. As I got her into the car I got in and as I sat down a guy was getting her out. I stood up out of the driver's seat and looked head to toe at a a guy that easily outweighed me by 50 lbs. I knew what was happening and I knew what was about to come and I had a choice. In a fight or flight situation time begins to slow down and eventually when you have been put into this situation enough times, your heart no longer races and you can actually slow your heart rate and your breathing to be completely present in the moment. "If the universe is infinite and time has no beginning or end then each moment is eternal." Straight to the temple. 

I looked at the guy and said what I have said so many times in the past, "Are you sure you want to do this?" Before there was a word spoken I knew to strike first and get the upper hand as fast as possible. I dropped him with a strike to the temple and found myself in the mix of at least 5-10 more guys . Someone left with broken ribs and maybe 8 or more stitches in their head. Not me, I may have done that, maybe not but my face was already split and was being held down while some dumb taco eating piece of shit skipped across the parking lot to land his fist into my teeth. There was blood everywhere, my blood, thier blood, does it matter, was it worth it? You can't save everyone.

I bled all over the ground, I have been here before, shattered jaw for trying to help a female, trying to do what was right and speak the truth, that was me. With blood dripping out of my mouth I walked to him and spit in his face and said, "does this make you feel good motherfucker?!" Everyone ran and I stayed out of humor, I knew I wasn't getting arrested for anything. After seeing who I was the cops asked if I needed a ride to the hospital, I got stitched up and left. The next morning I went to bail her out of jail. Possession charges, what else?! 

A week or so later another guy broke into the house I had left several hours before, came in with a loaded revolver to kill me. I had just moved out. 

I'm still moving and to me, none of this ever happened.

We owe nothing. You do not owe anything to anyone. You are not responsible for other people's decisions. It is hard to be an empathetic guide without carrying the weight of others in your circle. You are not alone even if you feel like you are 10 feet under. "What have I become, my sweetest friend? Everyone leaves in the end." 

The trees and I have talked the day away, how else would they talk back other than snagging my key on a loose wall of dirt and twigs. My lanyard is camouflage and the key is black of course.  A branch leans out after back-tracking and reaching the top of the wall with my key hanging from it as to laugh at me like it was a friendly game between me and the forest.

The restrooms are locked, everyone is wearing a mask, is there fresh, clean air anywhere? Take a walk around in everyone else's shoes. What do you see?

Words hold so much more weight than I once understood. Things that I say impact people that I don't know and have caused good and bad things to happen. I only know this because I have started to notice. What should I say now? Nothing. Silence is nice. Now I need to say something and I do not have the words. 

Trails, mountains and endless views out into a beautiful sky that always fills me with feelings of love and hope. It was better every single time. It's a great filling when you are on the incline. Going upwards is always tougher than going down. Going up we have to dig our fingers in and grip every single stone, from any angle or just grab both sides of a slim crack and force as much vertical force as possible. This requires skill, strength and experience. Going down doesn't feel good for those without wisdom gained from climbing. We can go down alot faster than going up, gravity has it's way. Pure vibration can acoustically levitate any object. Vibes●○●○●○●○

Amor fati is a mindset that you take on for making the best out of anything that happens: Treating each and every moment no matter how challenging as something to be embraced, not avoided. To not only be okay with it, but love it and be better for it. So that like oxygen to a fire, obstacles and adversity become fuel for your potential.

Before the virus I was strong, I had only drank too much once or twice, that rabbit hole got deeper as the feeling of insecurity set in, I became something else slowly as things drifted. I became something that wasn't me, trying to get drunk everyday. Trying to force answers. I probably did a whole bag of molly, several k-pins and drank a few hard mixes. Breaking something, this wasn't me. It is me and it isn't. I had already lost my footing, I realised I wasn't the solution because I was losing my grip. My brain was scrambled. I couldn't have a clear, rational thought even I had 24 hrs to do basic math. How did I get here? Trauma. I wasn't healed and it surfaced in moments of fear. Now I was creating more trauma. How does that happen? The one thing I don't want to be, I am. Now to forgive myself and deal with truth. Can I be stronger today. My brain isn't scrambled anymore but my skull is still sizzling. 

3.14 × 5 = 15.7  15.7÷6 = 2.6 

Was it a question to call mom about, no, I had it right but I may have been wrong. I was questioning myself because nothing was clear. Basic math. Calculated decisions. The perfect soldier. A warrior that never gives up. Training may always be there but trauma can be unlearned with more training. Another boot camp, going to war with myself. New synapses growing in places that were previously dark. Mastering the storm internally. I had once thought there was a bunker to retreat to, I was naive to think it was capable of holding and now it's time to rebuild. How many times should I rebuild, take down the walls and engineer a new structure?! As many as it takes. Anticipate the storm and always be stocked and ready. Be prepared for the worst and hope for the best. Pessimism isn't the way, prepardeness is. Now there is hope.

Riots and justice, the smell of anarchy in the wind. Some people think they know where I stand, politically, spiritually. The truth is that I'm neutral and I don't care, whatever works for the individual isn't the best for a group. I believe in everything and I also believe in nothing. Perception is the only proof anyone needs, and yet that means nothing all the same. Does that make me Buddhist? Taoist? Atheist? Agnostic? Yeah, I am but I'm not. I am nothing, everything that is real is fake. 

When I expect rain, I ride my motorcycle next to the clouds and lay in the sun hoping it will pour but it passes right by. 

Something about me is incomplete. My tattoos need work, tomorrow. As I look through designs I look for meaning. Am I deep, a critical thinker, hyper vigilant. Yes and no. I choose not to be, I choose to be empty. Camping, running to the top of a mountain at a 6 minute per mile pace until I can't feel my body, my lungs become numb and can't even feel my heartbeat anymore, that is fulfillment for me. Laying in a stream of clear, 25 degree mountain water is fulfillment. Both are painful, numbing and satisfying. Self destruction leads to self completion. You cannot be whole unless you are first empty. Maybe being empty is wholeness. Love is when you want something or someone, not when you need it, love doesn't need anything or anyone. Isolation is therapy as is socializing. What works for one does not work for the group. I didn't know you that well, you lost a friend who lost his wife and his kid, who am I to complain, I'm just here to listen and observe. Some people just need to be noticed, they want to be seen and heard. Therapy. Listening is therapy. Observing is healing. Was I listening? I could write several books on stories that are not mine. My story isn't worth the effort as I'd rather listen. I keep going back and I keep moving forward. Time isn't linear and yet it is. Suggestive or objective perception, we all have a choice or do we not?! I personally do not bother with this type of thinking. These questions mean nothing. They change nothing. What are you doing right now? What am I doing? No dreams that I can remember last night, nothing. I am clear and I am focused. I have goals that have a linear perception of time attached to them, this is a choice. I'm looking for meaning in ink, the kind that doesn't create fear, the kind that facilitates understanding.

Down to the last one. Yellow stains on my pants that mysteriously appeared. A tick crawls across my arm.  Operating under any condition, good or bad. I am writing down a list, a maintenance check if you will. Today I stopped keeping track and I started keeping track. I haven't been sober this long since January. That's hardly what I care to keep track of. I'm on track. They are screaming "I'm in love with you," out of the window. For the first time in awhile I looked up for a second but immediately looked back down at my own two feet. Clear, focused and no depression. Back to an all organic diet and back in NY and offering moving services while I finish paperwork on workers comp and a lawsuit. I guess my testosterone dropped and my brain was scrambled. I almost forgot how to be a man for a minute. I am strong and calm in the face of the storm, my breaths are deep, the arrow glides across the wind after a smooth release. I know peace here, in the eye of the storm. This is my familiar place, this is a million dollars worth of training, priceless knowledge and skill that can rarely be learned and when learned it cannot be unlearned. There's no need to go back over a mistake over and over and over to try to figure out what went wrong. If you can't see the error the first time then just let it be. The more we stay distracted from the present, the less likely we are to give more energy into our future. The days blend together and the dreams are still haunting, this big black chonk of a dog  even nudges his way into my subconscious. What's the difference if I grab you or you grab me, either leads to a harmonious dance.

Peeling away at layers and layers of self, I wonder what will be left. Possibly the torment of locked doors and molestation or maybe being held down and hit across the face. Maybe the last layer will smell like gunpowder or feel like a shockwave moving through me. One thing I do know is that there's a big difference between sand mud and clay mud after a heavy rain.

I've always despised decaf coffee. There's something about washing the beans with acetone that doesn't sit right. The regimine was all organic and pure water, distilled with added minerals or reverse osmosis.  Layers of self start to melt away when you become hyper disciplined. Is this the development of a new set of beliefs, morals, virtues or is it the destruction of the idea of even having them? Ancient grain coffee with no caffeine is the better choice. Rieshi mushroom tea always finds its way back into my life when discipline does. "There is pleasure in the pathless woods." -Lord Byron.

When surrounded by dozens of opinions on how we should be living our lives, remind the self that none of the sources of those opinions know all of the facts. You and only you know the facts.

Should those opinions even be entertained now? It would become exhausting for sure. The idea of having rules in life makes me cringe but actually applying a few rules here and there doesn't always make me feel bad.

When I was a kid I would walk through a chicken house barefooted and it not bother me, feeding them to have permission to ride horses anytime I wanted. I rode with a fox hunter, he was old and worn and I was just as worn at heart. Heels down, how many times had that saved my ass? How do I put my heels down now? I wish that fox hunter was still here to share more wisdom with me. Nights too drunk to walk I would find myself in an open field starring up at the stars surrounded by Arabians, they nudged me to check on me. I trusted them and they trusted me. 

Horses mirror our souls.  

Last month I joined an ant colony. Was it last month or was it years ago? Birds still chirping at 3AM, what are they talking about I wonder.

I wonder what it feels like to be free of me too.

Self control

Every mile I feel more and more resistance. My bones, my gut, the roof of my mouth, I made the final stop. As I walked in I could feel the past still moving. The m95 mask and gloves were like wands of light in the air still glowing. The sandwiches were long gone and yellow caution tape is everywhere with suggestive signs every 6ft. I saw this part coming but I wasn't suppose to be here. The rash on my arm itches but I would never touch it in case it were to spread. If I have the self control to do this then why did I lose control before? Certain drugs cause me to lose all inhibition and rationality is a long afterthought. Fog, for miles, I could never see 2 feet in front of my face anyway. Trying to take a picture of signs that read "stay home", now read "not wearing a mask outside, fuggggeeethabooutit." Suddenly I feel sick, part of me wishes it was COVID19 creeping on me, it would be the lesser of the two to deal with and a better chance of recovery. I'm not sure that I like it here.  Nothing makes sense anymore, mistakes i've made are always lessons learned and never repeated but damn if I can't always make glorious new ones as if to discover new elements to place on the periodic table. Gold is fascinating isn't it, it's conductive and rarely corrodes. This makes gold perfect for outdoor use and electronics."The formation of rust on iron, tarnish on silver, and the blue-green patina that develops on copper are all examples of corrosion."Some historians even theorize that the tops of the pyramids in Egypt were made of gold... for what exactly?! Yeah, I know, too much and a lack of self control. My curiosity is more rational without external elemental influence, less likely to corrode, just like gold.

Spark

A piece of driftwood floats down the river, it is no longer a part of the tree it once was. It is soaked to the core and dead yet still moves along from one bend to another.

A fire is burning in the distance as it approaches. The wood is drawn from the water into the fire, it is hot as it begins to crack and pop with steam and yet does not burn. It is slowly beginning to dry and in the process leaves a mark, untouched. As time passes the wood is set ablaze and is now repurposed to kindle the heat it was at first so eager to avoid. It took time, the driftwood needed to travel to find its final place reborn in the light.

• I did cocaine for there first time in years when I found myself losing my mind and entering numbers and emails into a website to do what.... unblock, unblock, please just let it work. 3 days later after bottles of vodka and cases of beer disappear, I'm alive?! I found myself again. The pills are gone. The cycle has to be broken by pure will. No, pure luck.

"It's not what you do, it's what's happening through you."

Take yourself out of the equation. You are not dependent on preserving your ego, protecting your fragile self esteem and self-image. Whatever happens, happens. Nothing bogs you down or fills you with negative emotions.

You are not influenced by shit anymore, because you are not your body. You are not the identity that has been cultivated around you. You are not the actor on the stage.

You are your mind which is on another plane of existence and understanding.

Let go of the old "self" and take on the new.

It's so vivid when you imagine it. When you get blown out and feel all that hurt and pain and shame, just imagine what you would do if you were your own friend, standing beside yourself. How would you respond to yourself as another person?

When I did this exercise, my way of thinking, my understanding, my reality, my predictions changed dramatically, and I was much kinder to myself.

Loosen up, Climb through the window. Moving stained glass art, this is self improvement? Laughed at an image. Is that mud or is that blood?

Lucid dreams, they continue over and over and last night was more intense than usual. I wake up excited like the physical reality has changed and then quickly realise that it hasn't. Sweating, I never sweat so it was intense. Where are the paint brushes? I've gone too far. The extremes of which one could live without balance are real, that is reality. Should I drive somewhere and start over again or should I stay close in case I'm needed? I don't like putting myself first, it doesn't feel right. Like a lighthouse, still and spinning, around and around. The things I own make me sick, they own me. What can set a man free, love, what can trap a man, love. A flower is as beautiful when it dies as it is when it blooms but few people care while it is still a seed. A man that cares puts the seed into the Earth and waters it. When water is nowhere nearby he finds water, searching for it until he dies along with the seed. Martyrdom is a life in service to that which is not the self, but rather the whole, which in turn serves the self, understanding that the end is inevitable.

I have found myself in states of pure strength and I have found myself in weakness. Where is this space in between? What was once a mess became organized only to become a mess again. I wasn't putting things back where I found them, I was moving things around again. Everything has it's place.

I started writing letters, I haven't done that since boot camp. I poured out with the beat from the song The Art of Falling Apart playing in my head knowing that it was right and from a good place and simultaenously self destructive. What if time had been in a different place? From one day to the next inbetween my own silent pursuits, the pursuit of my heart was the next highest priority. Long nights and long talks where my own voice was calming and now the swipe of ink I make on paper causes fear. How did this happen? People have told me that I have a surfer vibe and should have moved to Cali a long time ago yet I chose to wear a different kind of suit and play a game that can't be won? Self acceptance? A chance to give back if I made more money? Internal therapy? Thanksgiving 2019 I was back out of my rut and going forward with life and then a fire was lit inside of me that was never there before. All of my rules went out of the window, what rules... I never had any.

One rule in the back of my mind always said to remain silent. Silence speaks so much more than words ever can. Am I needy? Suddenly I turn my head and there's a different fire. There's a new but familiar damaged nerve behind my ear burning down my neck like a strike of lightning to match my leg, my chest and my arm. I accept it today like I have lived with it forever. I know pain?! Do I? Pain means nothing. Why does physical pain mean nothing and yet I still feel?! I pop an aspirin and hear tiny squeaks in my head, this is nothing new either. It's hot as hell outside, I wish I could go run... should I detox more first or just go? So many years have been spent alone simply running in one sense or another. Not now, no more running. The dreams are back but they never left. Who was I saving this time? My own voice wakes me up again. Where am I? Take me back to the tree with my grandpa and a bag of marbles in the dirt, I can do better this time around. 

I would say that I'm broken, that I have nothing left, that I can't go on, that nothing makes sense, that I walk around with my will and testament in my wallet now because I no longer feel comfortable with the idea of tomorrow. Have I been through this phase? Not like this. Have I been beaten down to my last breath and woken up in the hospital more times than I can count?! I kept going, why is this time any different? Do I still have a heart? Am I whole? Do I know who I am? Do I have direction? Which way is the wind blowing today? Have I served humankind in a selfless way? How did I ever recover in the past? It was never like this. I masked the pain from death and life, deployments, fights, abuse and abandonment with running until I couldn't feel the pain anymore, I still do and it isn't the same. I do pushups until I can't peel my face off of the floor, one hand, two hands, back and forth until I fall, rest and repeat. I study, I study hard.... am I studying the right subject? Where is the time going, is it time that got me through it all? So many questions now when before I had none.