My Work Is Obscure Even to Me

Metaphysical Essay by David Sky

(I don’t believe in anything. I only believe in everything.)

The two challenges left for me with now only nine days to not overcome them rather to integrate them are clear to me. Both are equal so it is not possible to say exactly, “one” and “two”. This is a lesson in itself. This reality that is a subset of the greater reality is the reality in which there is sequence. Only here on this side of the veil do so many perceive love as a finite thing such that you may love one more than another or must exclude one in favor of another. (The way this was presented to me was “one does not have to die so that another may live” referring not to the death of the body but to the death of a concept in order to make a space for a seemingly conflicting concept) Here I do not speak of threesomes, just to be clear. Love is the only limitless thing in this physical reality which is real only not the only real that there is? I say this to remind myself and strengthen my own resolve to overcome Cognitive Dissonance yet another peculiarity of this physical reality we find ourselves in for now. If one were to think that I am merely speaking to myself all the time than you would not be wrong. I am because I am you. Another peculiarity of this subset of the greater reality is a nearly inescapable notion of separateness. A good hit of acid or a handful of musky mushrooms shatters that illusion. I say this again to bolster myself for the task at hand which is not an easy task just as all the most important tasks come upon along this mystical path have not been easy.

Perhaps my deepest, most innate instinct spiritually speaking is to wring the meaning out of everything – everything. I do not lament it for this is what I am and now more than ever in my life I can only love and appreciate what I am. Only it is time to bring the energy of this instinct into a much more balance and harmonious state within myself. This is what makes it so hard for me to experience joy as what happens is that I squeeze the very life out of things with this scrutiny. To accomplish such a task involves first recognition then intention and in this particular case because the task is so daunting and so vital also visualization in a meditative state. Here the visualization is crucial to success, I feel. The visualization is what I call an “act of magic” calling it magic because whatever else I may call it is both unbearably pretentious to my ear as well as being infused with nuance that I do not intend to convey and my intent in this writing is to communicate or connect with The Others. (Similarly, I am loath to use such highly abstract nouns as “God” for the word causes a cascade in the minds of others that often, I feel, diverges vastly from what I am trying to convey. No problem with that for there are as many paths to the mountain top as there are climbers only it is not conducive to true communication) Magic to me is simply any action taken that has a strong intention behind it that brings more meaning to the action than itself – such as tossing a penny into a wishing well and making a wish. That is an act of magic. This act is visualization as is the other act for these two integrations that are upon me now. In some cases, the magic would require some physical act or an icon of some kind but here I feel visualization is what is needed. Nine days may seem a short time but it is a very long time when the mind is focused and the heart is still.

This is a simple one: my right hand at my side as if walking just hanging loosely and I make it into a tight fist, very tight, as if it is necessary to sucker punch someone much larger so I make it as tight and hard as I can and then I simply loosen the first and shake it out. As I visualize this I am thinking, “Easy now, relax, just love what is and let it be”. If I were to feel the need, the physical act of magic would be to actually make that fist with my right hand. But I do not choose to do so partly because doing that hurts due to my physical disability. And I am no longer in the business of hurting myself having closed that shop some time ago. The truth of things is always simple.

The other task equally as difficult and equally as important to me is to now fully come together bringing the far flung elements of myself deliberately dissociated in order to get to this perfect place which is to say in order to get to her. I know The Universe’s way and that in order to get to her I would have to perfect myself ever so much as be possible for me to do. Not perfection. That is ridiculous. But what amounts to stepping firmly into the stream of eternity which is in fact my own personal destiny. There is room in this for error for it is as if you do not have to immerse your entire body in the stream but only must get some part in like tagging home plate with merely a sliver of your toe makes your run count in baseball? I understood that to find my soulmate this was the only way and to be clear as a spiritual goal it also dovetails perfectly with my own personal ambitions at the highest levels. But of course it would, you may be thinking: probably not actually but if you are than we are already the very best of friends. The visualization for this involves flying a plane and the plane is buffeted by winds, shifting up and down violently, and wings dipping alarmingly this way and that way as in the visualization I bring the plane into a perfectly directed state – balanced and harmonious flight. This vision was given to me as was the clenching and unclenching of my fist. My thought in this visualization is simply, “come together now”. I listen to the Beatles song, “Come Together” while relaxing meditatively simply lying down with eyes closed.

In this way I make the final preparations for the last journey of my life to my first home.

I do not know who to properly thank so I thank all things of all times. To be sure, this meditation is suffused in white light and gratitude beyond gratitude for what I have been given here is the world.

Bulwonkle, Tourist Detective (On Work & Love)

I know Freud is dead but I'll tell you he nailed this one thing, that life is all about Love and Work.

Keep it simple when it comes to philosophy I mean literally as in the less syllables the better. Years of inner searching and a fantastic and very weird mass of life experience whittled my own personal philosophy down to, “Bev”.

I know, right.

Knocked that one out of the park and in YOUR FACE Kierkegaard. So the love part got that in spades.

Work is good to me as well so way I see it I am blessed in this life. Few understand my work such is my lot in life. It is an occupational hazards that is unavoidable. I work deep, deep undercover for the Tourist Police. How deep you may wonder? So deep THEY don't even know it. Corruption is everywhere in our fair republic but my work is to stay underneath all the corruption until it presents a clear and preset danger to tourist or tourism.

By and large, it is really safe here, of course. But always there are few bad apples and my natural talent is to identify them simply by looking in their eyes. Takes one to know one kind of thing. Hell, half the folks visiting our fair isle are from the states where if one were self hating enough to watch the evening news, murder is rampant. I mean here sure you might get your laptop snatched but your chances of dying by crime are much lower here than of being crushed by an airplane engine falling randomly out of the sky. And I have the data somewhere to back that up, I'm sure.

Bet you can't say that about the states now can you?

And you know the thing is that I love people, right. I'm a people person always have been. I'm a world class hugger too doesn't matter to me how hot and humid it's been all day. Listen the first rule of being a deep, deep cover Tourist Detective is tell no one. I do not even tell Beverly the extent of my mission to protect her in case my identity were ever discovered by the wrong people. So I just engage in my own special brand of community undercover detective work.

I approach a nice family I haven't seen before - Hi folks, good morning to you and may I welcome you to the island! I give an enthusiastic welcome to this big family from … somewhere where they do not get much exercise or sun ? Hugs all around. Couple with two kids. The kids smile and hug me back.

Where you guys from? I ask.

Peoria, IL, the couple says almost in unison then laugh. Bob, says Bob. Cindy says Cindy.

(I feel the positive energy already rising now do you see why I love my work?) I reach into my left pocket and grab a handful of sandwich size zip lock plastic bags – a present and a free tip of the day for you folks, I hand Bob the plastic bags with a slight flourish. (I mean who doesn't love a present, right?)

What's this for? Bob asks

Each of you keep one in your pocket at all times then when a downpour breaks out, you can put your cell phone in their and just go ahead and enjoy getting soaked in paradise.

Both of them look up into the clear blue skies overhead. Cindy says, but there's not a cloud in the sky. Bob is shaking his head in agreement. Doesn't look like rain, he says skeptically.

Well, I tell them, politely, the weather can change here in the tropics in a heart beat. Always be prepared is my motto. Have a wonderful time guys, I bid them farewell and stride forth into another day in paradise where love and work are perfect.

Beverly said once that the biggest thing she loves about me is my unbridled enthusiasm for living. I asked if it is okay if the biggest thing I loved about her is her lips? But anyway, I say just jump on life and hump it and thank God for your good luck, man. It's no more complicated than that ?

Chronicles of Bulwonkle, Tourist Detective "Morning on the Island"

Beverly sleeps late. My body on the other hand wakes itself at first light always has. I think something is a little off with me because I have never felt fear in my life but just the thought of living in Alaska and not being able to sleep for weeks or even months on end … now that's scary to me because I need my sleep. Without a solid six hours, I'm for shit, man.

I like to run the beach around the island before the sun is even up. It took a long time for my feet to harden enough to make it barefoot. Sounds easy right I mean it's just sand but haul ass in it for a good hour to make it around the whole island that can be a pounding, believe me. I try to warn people that paradise will sneak up on you and just clean your clock it's terrible for that because no one ever sees it coming because it's “paradise”. Except me, of course.

I always go clockwise around because I'm right handed. I like this time of morning it's light enough to see but the island is still mostly sleeping or just rising and usually a sea breeze is just starting to kick up and birds sing and chirp and squawk. Big, fat Iguana watch from their perches in the trees and countless lizards scatter underfoot. I never get tired of the lizards here they're the smartest goddamn creatures on earth – did you know that? Just the way they cock their heads an look you right in the eye all the time as if to say, “I got you all figured out, Human”.

This whole eastern side catches the predominate winds and on my right a series of mostly three story beach condos soak up every centimeter of sea frontage. I hear my name as a hand pops out the window a boat docked and I wave back, “morning Augustus. Good hunting!” Lobster this time of year but Augustus would come back with fish as well you could count on it and I do often do business in the evening. He came from Honduras with his wife twenty years ago to the island so that his children may have a better life. Like most of us here, an immigrant or at least a transplant from the mainland. Very few islanders are original families here. You can tell the original family members if you pay any attention at all they are entirely different from Gringos.

Someone asked me once what is the difference and I said well they have souls. We all start out with souls, of course, only those who grow up on this island and stay here all their lives they live in such peace and beauty their entire lives that their precious souls never get beaten out of them.

My favorite part is the southern side of the island which is the most forested and natural area. If I gave a shit about birds, I would be able to list hundreds of species easily. But I don't. Did you know that the only living creatures related to dinosaurs are birds? That's why I don't fully trust the little bastards I think Hitchcock had it about right, frankly. Only a matter of time before the birds kill us all.

One thing I love about this island is that it has a good beach most all the way around. I don't see any structures until rounding the south side and heading back up the west side where mainly locals live in shanties lacking the amenities most of our tourists and local expatriates find essential, including myself, I am not ashamed to admit. I'm hot waters biggest fan. If you pay any attention, though, you notice that the people are by and large smiling and happy and the children are very happy. How many times I have seen people on vacation so glum compared to the local serving them and making not enough money from it to barely feed their family.

It's hard to be happy without a soul.

Near where the western side along the bay meets the northern side is the old power station with its enormous train car size generators mostly dormant now used only as backup since we put in an underwater cable from the mainland. By the time I return to our apartment taking up the second floor of Miss Avlanter's enormous old mansion, the sun is coming up. To my surprise Beverly is already on the deck watching the sunrise with a cup of coffee held in both hands blowing on it gently. A little steam rises up from the cup and her lips so close to the lip of the cup and the steam rising and the sun rising behind O man makes me love her so much you have no idea. I wish to God I could paint but I cannot draw a straight line but just this scene is the most beautiful I have ever seen in my life.

After I get a cup of coffee myself, I go out on the deck and stand behind her quietly stroking her long hair. She finally sips the coffee cautious as always truly a woman after my own heart. She says, you're taking me to breakfast this morning I'm up early.

I see that, I say. You are beyond beautiful right now. Epic beauty. Staggering. Mesmerizing -

Enough! Bev says, kissing the back of my hand. I took a piss and rushed out here so I could see the sun rise haven't even washed my face yet for God's sakes, Bull.

You doubt my perception?

It is my life's work to doubt your perceptions apparently but I love what I do – now take me in the shower then take me to breakfast I'm hungry this morning for some reason.
* * * * *

We hold hands walking up to Anita's Place and I feel very happy the morning is clear and not too hot and we have an invite to go snorkeling off a guys yacht. He's either the nicest guy in the world or else a front for some Mexican Mafia I'm not certain yet so this outing will be fun and hopefully informative.

It's easy to kill one bird with one stone, I always say, shoot for killing two birds with one stone. Why fuck around, right – I mean life's too short?

Hey Babe I was thinking what about adopting children - I would be a great dad and you would be a great mom.

Bev says, you would be a terrible dad, Bull that's out of the question – volunteer at the school with the kids maybe? I've already been a Mom, thank you very much.

I'm afraid to do that volunteer with the kiddies deal because one of the little buggers might claim I touched em in the bad place just to fuck with me.

What? Why on earth would a child do that?

O Bev I wished I lived in your world of rainbows and unicorns Jesus kids are little monsters I think I read that in Psychology Today. Have to think ahead, you know that, calculate those unlikely and often unseemly potentialities. It's a dirty job but someone has to do it. Give me credit remember when I was talking about how an airplane engine could fall out of the sky and crush someone then we saw it on the news, right?

I see it coming, Bev, it's a gift and a curse, what can I say?

You know Bull for someone who claims to have never felt fear, you sure are paranoid – you ever think about that?

You mean paranoia IS fear? Damn, I turn that around in my mind as we get to Anita's? I just learned something about myself here that I've been terrified my whole life. It was a real moment of realization for me rare thing these days.

Thank you, Beverly, you taught me something about myself.

Don't thank me, it's what I do. Welcome to the human race, Bev says. Damn I'm hungry.

"Bulwonkle, Tourist Detective" (working deep cover on the paradisaical isle of Nohwar)

What can I say, you know, I can proffer no rational defense. She literally had me at “hello”. I couldn't even begin to say exactly why some gestalt of physical mannerism, physique and her blue eyes and her calm, strong and yet open energy. Now how possibly to articulate just the energy of her a grounded, even nature and it was so clearly just how Michelle had been created by God. I felt my ego boundaries melting and thought, “O shit, here we go again, man, down that rabbit hole of love.”

For better or worse, that's how I am, right, just how I was made by God: While to the world I show a fist, in love I am that guy following my heart around like a puppy on a leash. 

Come on, I entreat Michelle, swim with me? 

No, she says, it's chilly this morning and I'm tired of fighting that Sargasso. I'll stay and drink all the coffee, she winks, you go ahead, Love, knock yourself out.

Don't drink all the coffee, Michelle. Don't be an asshole, I tell her serious as I can be as I start off across the couple dozen yards of sand separating our deck from the shores of the Caribbean.

You're such a huge asshole, Bull, that you are not allowed to ever call anyone else an asshole, ever. I know we went over that rule several times already.

I yell back, You have too many rules, you know that right!

Just go swim and let me drink coffee in peace, Bull. I can't laugh hard this early in the morning or something bad might happen. And keep your goddamn trunks on and I mean it now! You have a responsibility to be a good citizen!

I turn to face Michelle dropping my shorts on the sand – you’re not the boss of me, I yell back at her. I look up and down the beach a good, slow, easy inspection with a hyper-vigilance honed since suffering early childhood trauma: turn your weaknesses into strength, I always say. But such is the life of a Tourist Cop working deep cover in paradise where, by the way, you really have to keep your wits about you at all times because paradise has a way of sneaking up on you and cleaning your clock when you least expect it, man.

Anyway, everything's copacetic, time for a good swim.

I don't know why but I thought of Michelle giving me a hard time about swimming naked. Fucking society right, it's a classic Freudian trap. The Id is such an innocent monster and wants to run around naked, happy and free and crap all over the place. That poor little bastard  just gets shoved back into its box by social pressures and all it wants is to be itself. So it's no wonder that twenty years of life sees people so uptight that they cannot take a proper crap for god's sake. I work myself up as swim against the very slight current of the morning tide, the water feeling slightly warmer than the air today. And then there you go, I can't swim naked in the ocean because I am surrounded by these anal retentive types. Well my Id is free, dammit. 

I stop to float for a long while on my back and look up at the clear blue sky. I think of forming a support group called, “Anal Expulsive Anonymous” but decide against it for more or less obvious reasons. The money would be in Stupid Anonymous, I just know it. I'll instruct the members to mail in their thoughts and feelings to me on the back of twenty dollar bills, right. Damn, that's like free money hanging on a money tree waiting to he plucked. Note to self, Bulwonkle: get on that chop chop. It's hard to find time because deep cover tourist detective work is more than a full time job, man, it's a way of life.

I swim back still a little bitter about that tourist family and all the fuss they made when all I was doing was trying to help, as usual. Someone needs to be concerned about their safety as tourists! Besides that their children should see adult genitalia so they can come to accept that our human form for what it is something natural and nothing to be freaked out about. Jesus Christ these people are positively primitive.

Back on the deck, I grab us both a cup of coffee and join Michelle overlooking the aqua marine waters glistening brightly with morning sunlight. 

Here comes a family down the beach now Bull, she says, patting the chair next to her, sit down next to me and be quiet and leave them alone.

I say a bit more defensively than I mean to, are you still talking about the uptight family from the states -

You were naked lecturing them with their children right there -

Whoa, hey, I never lecture! I was welcoming them to our fair island and giving them some friendly and I might add free safety tips.

Whatever, Bull, just sit here with me hold my hand and smile.

So I do and happily so. I love Michelle for a lot of reasons but definitely one is for being such a perfect smart ass. We watch the family slowly make their way past, husband and wife holding hands walking ankle deep in the surf with the two small children, a boy and girl, frolicking along a little deeper in. All of them pink as baby mice. Blue sky and Caribbean green sea as a backdrop. Coffee. Michelle’s hand in mine. Life is good and our little isle is safe and sound for pink as baby mice families to carelessly wander the beaches. 

I lean over and kiss Michelle on the neck then ask her seriously, how come no matter how hard I try to come across, you know, and really talk to people, they end up mostly saying, “Please don't hurt me, Mister!”? Another thing I love about her is how I can talk to her about anything and how she takes me seriously. Michelle really gets things.

She says, It's a combination of the delivery, standing way too close which, by the way, we've talked about that, remember personal space! And then there's your eyes, Sweetheart. She stoops to kiss me on the cheek going for another cup of coffee and I die a little bit just looking into her bright, blue eyes and that smile. It’s not your fault, Babe, Michelle touches my cheek, that your gaze razes people to the ground. They think you’re insane but I know you’re just a bit aspy.

Tripping From a Mushroom's Point of View

Hey, psst, dude - you ready to trip on some humans!?

Wha? I think I nodded off – what now - ?

Well, I hope so cause they’re coming our way right now. Hey don't tell me you've never tripped on humans before?

No, honestly, I haven’t ever - “tripped” as you say.

Oh, wow, a neophyte? Well, well are you in for some fun, kid. Okay, they’re getting close so I think this shit is going down. Not much time now just listen up cause we’ve been eatin by these humans for millenniums. Personally, I love me some human. I mean Srsly! First rate nervous system. Some say Dolphin's better but never had dolphin myself so I don't know?

I don't understa -

Listen - first of all, bro, relax. Really that's the only advice. Chill. You’re in for a quite a ride. Don’t let it get to you, right? Just enjoy it. Go with the flow. Repeat that to me now.

Sounds maybe easier said then done?

No repeat, “Go With the Flow” dammit!

“Go with the flow” the neophyte said without much conviction.

Anyway, Tripping Spores on humans is as natural as sucking life out of death, right. Just let yourself break up and flow on through them. It’s wild beyond your wildest imaginings, trust me on that. We may end up in the same one but doesn’t matter since once we cross the brain barrier and light up their fabulous – if you don't mind my sayin! - nervous system. You’ll see soon enough O and listen even if we’re not in the same human, we can hook up again once our symbiosis with their full nervous system is complete O dude here we go … laugh, bro, laugh … this is going to be a blast!

"Now Is Dynamic" Metaphysical Essay

June 2018 and the skies are not on fire so I'll give thanks for that and while there are no jetpacks a fact over which we all of a certain age hold inside of us a smoldering resentment that if brought up to the level of a thought might be, "I was promised jetpacks dammit man promised and where the hell are the jetpacks? I'm not really seeing it and I'm not happy about it". Still there is much to be grateful for just as a species that we are even still here. I think we humans should carpe diem really will be a full blown miracle if we don't self destruct so each day is a gift. Tell the people we love we love them, forget bucket lists there's no future do it now. Now is the fulcrum of time lean into it and now becomes the way, the soul's path, that roaring torrent of the winds of the Tao. When I realized that eternity is not a very long length of time but is the absence of time, I feel like "Now" made more sense how counter-intuitively stepping fully into now somehow is like stepping into a stream so is movement and there is a back and a forward and a constant flow my thought comes to mind that the river is itself around every single bend so "Now" is not static more to the point, Now is dynamic

Transformation II

Caught in the throes of metamorphosis 
No one outside sees inside
the Pupae
Serene on the outside but internally
ecstatic discomfort
Amphibian dreams, the dreaming of plants,
of fungi,
The world at large of Kaleidoscopic patterns
and sacred geometries
Four billion years of evolution exalted
in new being
Frail, transparent wings still wet and new
still folded shut
The Moth head bowed introspectively
wings drying
Finally unfolding of the self body fully
wakens the soul's purpose
The moth takes flight under the full
Scorpio full moon

"Sometimes Angels Save Themselves"

After ten klicks at a hard run, she feels a genuine gratitude for the lightness of these titanium alloy blades but has to think about slowing down, light as the swords may be, the effort wears upon her now. The ground had been mostly open and her lead on her pursuers only slight and it was about time for her to make a move so she reaches in as deep as she could and thinking fast she pours it on with a surge of speed meant to draw them on behind her even faster which it does as they kept pace still nipping at the heels of her boots.

The country now rolling prairie with sparse ground cover and no trees at all. She crests the steepest hill yet and just as she starts descending spins on a dime planting herself firmly dropping to her knees leaning slightly forward in toward her pursuers at a forty five degree angle to break the forward momentum facing now these oncoming horrors of self doubt, self hate, fear and madness with both swords drawn and held fast blades forward crisscrossing arms bent at ninety degrees and wrists locked now a bodily knot of tense muscle awaiting the impact of the karma screaming down upon her full bore. Her ploy works as the Banshees lost in their hot pursuit are caught off guard and cannot break their forward momentum believing they had her at last so that their forward momentum slams them into the waiting assault of her blades. She closes her eyes muscles trembling with effort as her back, hips, thighs and quads absorb the brunt of the impact feeling the hot gore of flesh and bone and blood impacting her face as the bulk of them split one after another by the blades disembowel cascading over her compacted body now taught like one great muscle and in a split second it seems these demons so long in pursuit are ripped asunder by the onslaught of their own momentum executed against the razor sharp, implacable blades of her swords.

Opening her eyes, shuddering involuntarily, exhausted, she drops the blades to the ground. They do not clatter but thump dully so coated are they with blood and gore as they hit the hard packed dirt and rock. Her body trembles from the strain as she falls back upon her thin ass cheeks rolling onto her right side then and covering her head with her hands sobbing once and for all time a wracking sound that seems to tremble the earth underneath. She sobs so hard and so long that she cannot breath feeling she would pass out from lack of oxygen before finally managing a gasp of air. She realizes dully now barely conscious that she had been running for more than ten kilometers. She had been running for her whole life full tilt running for as long as she could remember being alive. Running out of a child's helpless terror, running in pain and in misplaced guilt and fear and in anger and fervid, hopeless remorse.

After some unfathomable length of time curled up there on the stark, cold earth alone in a pile of gory flesh already grown cold, she manages to walk the fingers of her right hand over to the hilt of one of her blades feeling too exhausted to cry any longer and when her long, thin, blood cakes fingers touch the hilt of her blade, she thinks a little wildly - “it’s over now, it’s finally over”.

"A New Spirit for the Discriminating Palate"

The Zeitgeist, a distilled spirit,
A sip hits like some violent ambrosia 
Goes right to the head packs a wallop
That Bright Lights and a Big City bang
For your buck

Drink a full glass and feel the glow
Delightfully provocative, resplendent
With fantastic and colorful lies
Makes you want to seat yourself
Firmly and get a grip, go to ground,
Only you cannot

Drink the bottle now you're talking
Racing ever faster to stay in the same place
A spinning and roaring of The Machine
Grinding away at the inside your own head
You no longer hear the throaty roars
Of the beguiled
Or sense the underlying seas of violence
Waves of the masses bucking and heaving
In their painful throes

The Hangover finds you on the floor at dawn
The soft dawn glow stabbing you in the eyes
You feel like a lone survivor of a bar massacre
You remember crawling away undignified
Through a confusion of the legs of combatants
At once feeling grateful to have slunk away alive
And feeling that survivors guilt and missing all
Your dignity -
When you find someone who loves you
To tell the story, you start by saying:

"One more sip and I'd have been a goner!"

Blackmoon - Short Story

Blackmoon awoke in the darkness of night with the hair standing up on the back of his neck. Born during a

full solar eclipse of the moon totally blind, he yet sees the world well enough in his way having learned from the medicine woman who raised him among so many things that we see with our mind, not our eyes. He lies still with his hand on his tomahawk for a moment listening as closely as would any white tailed deer sensing that whatever this is, it is not the kind of danger that a tomahawk can properly address. Rising, slipping silently into his dress and belting the tomahawk to his side, without waking his sleeping wife next to him, Blackmoon pushes open the animal skin door standing just outside their tepee in the dead of night. As sensitive to what is not there as to what is, he hears a silence that he has never heard before then, the hair still standing up all over his body now, out of the preternatural silence, a bright, white beam of light descends like a tree trunk from the sky above him. This beam of light seems to search the ground it’s like nothing he has ever experienced before, this light, and it is as solid as and about as wide in diameter as one of the old mother poplar trees in the forest.

This beam of light coming seemingly from no where above approaches him and then what is manifested upon the ground as if coming out of this beam sends chills down his spine and the manfear that he had thought mastered since long ago since first becoming a brave wells up making his legs weak beneath him where he stands and only with a supreme effort of will does he command his body back to respect – perhaps I have died in my sleep, Blackmoon thinks a little wildly, only bringing his mind into respect with his body again with great effort of will – perhaps, he wonders, I have passed over and this now is The Other Side of the River? This would explain the preternatural silence and the enigma of the light and this … this thing now standing not more than three man lengths in front of him having appeared out of the light like … like what some demon not an animal spirit some man shaped thing but not human, no, not human at all, the height of a child with an enormous head, gray in color, eyes twice as large as duck eggs, without ears and with a slit for a mouth and no discernible nose. He thinks that no one else has awoken that too leads him to suspect that this is not real – perhaps I am dreaming? He wonders.

When the thing takes a step toward Blackmoon, it is all he can do to contain his bowels and fear such as he had never known ices his bowels and he thinks with certainty now that this is no dream. This is real. It moves again not so much walking, he notes, as gliding toward him and Blackmoon remembers to breath and to stand in his center. He is not certain then as the things gets closer if he can move as this thing the size of a human child looks up at him with it’s enormous insect eyes now not even one man’s length away – what IS this think? he wonders wildly. His hand rests on the handle of his sheaved knife as he looks down into the bug eyes as if transfixed by them.

We are no threat to yourself or your people, the thing says then not with words to Blackmoon’s astonishment but somehow speaking this directly into his mind. The things lips do not move. It is strange but Blackmoon realizes that it is with speech similar somehow to the manner in which he “sees” without sight. He feels that they are both suspended within a bubble of this silence as if maybe they are actually in the forest, here in camp, yet at once not in the forest, not here in camp? He does not understand and it’s almost as if his mind stops trying to understand? He wants to look around, in fact, to confirm that he is indeed still here but he finds that he cannot take his eyes off the creature before him.

He finds himself speaking in the same manner then asking this creature – What is it that you want from us?

It is to you that we wish to address ourselves, Blackmoon. You are an exceptional thing, the creature somehow conveys a genuine sense of admiration. Your body is almost immune to our control and your mind is completely resistant to us something extraordinary in our considerable experience with your kind here.

How do you know my name? Blackmoon asks again in that silent manner as before, not sure how he could do it?

Unlike your people, what one of us knows all of us knows and you, Blackmoon, are well known among my people. Some of my people argue that your kind here is useless and dangerous while others argue that if we have found one such as this Blackmoon, then there must be others as well such that your entire kind is redeemable after all. I wished to see for myself, call it an indulgence, if you will.

Blackmoon acting instinctively, finding himself suddenly and inexplicably fluent in this new form of communication, steps forward closing the gap between them looking down at the little creature – well, he asks, you have seen me, now what?
The thing seems frightening, Blackmoon thinks, as it glides quickly backwards away from him and Blackmoon becomes keenly aware again of that preternatural silence around them become distinctly uncomfortable and not just for himself. He had mastered his own stillness many moons ago so let the silence be expressing his anger at being assessed like some weaker thing, something under scrutiny. Blackmoon felt the lack of dignity in this and reacted against it looking directly into the enormous insect eyes.

We are beings that live in the earth here and have lived here longer than have your people, we come from the rocks and the trees, from the mountains and the rivers -
Blackmoon “speaks” with disdain, interrupting the creature’s stream of thought – you are a being that lies to me, he intones, from his centered place, from his strength, allowing the anger to rise up flowing naturally outward – I know well of the beings who inhabit the earth, the trees, the mountains and rivers of this land and you are not one of them. It does not “speak” but looks up into Blackmoon’s eyes with those bug eyes utterly inscrutable but nevertheless Blackmoon senses its fear thinking – It is afraid of me? He could almost smell the fear coming off of it, such an odd feeling overcame him and he had to dismiss it in order to stay connected to this thing, this demon or whatever it is?

The thing then does try to tell the truth, Blackmoon senses, “saying” - I cannot properly tell you what it is we are for there are not the words for it that you would understand but we inhabit the same space and we have always been here in this place since long before your kind rose up out of the dirt of this earth.

With that, the creature seemed to simply vanish but Blackmoon had the sense that it traveled up that light beam that was the size of a mother poplar in the forest back up into the sky from whence it had apparently come? The light beam itself seemed to disappear upwards as if somehow withdrawn. Blackmoon looked up in the starry night sky hearing the night sounds of the forest return around him then becoming aware of a strange, high pitched whistle before seeing what looked like a star that falls from the heavens but one rising up from some suspension just above him and shooting up into the sky as if a star was falling backward into the sky above. He felt dizzied by this as if his sense of balance were suddenly extinguished.

He pushes back open the animal skin door returning back into the tent to his wife, his bed and to sleep. Tomorrow, he and a party would search for ginseng root and he knew would find a man-shaped one perfect for his work. He takes off his dress and returning naked to his wife cuddling in close against her backside feeling that there was no threat from this thing, whatever it was, and thinking that perhaps, after all, it had merely wanted to introduce itself to him as it had said? In a moment, he feel back peacefully asleep reassured by the normalcy of the early morning night sounds around them.

CRACK!

(Dream Pad - it works if you work it. Why I keep it next to the bed wake up jot down a shorthand of what I got in a dream then that jogs the whole dream back in the morning when I wake up or else I don't recall anything at all if I don't jot down something)

Poem by David Sky

CRACK!

A fire in the sky
A charge on the air
Positive male energy
A screaming lightening bolt
Seeking to ground out in earth

Mind goes back, that’s fear
Mind goes forward, that’s anxiety
Breathing in, breathing out
Back, fear; forward, anxiety
Breathing in, breathing out
Faster and faster, back, forward
Faster and faster, fear, anxiety
Breathing in, Breathing out
Just the mind lost on the air
A fiery charge of masculine energy
Faster and faster and faster and faster
Back fear forward anxiety back fear forward anxiety
Back forward back forward back forward -

CRACK!

The lightening bolt hits its negative ground
The earth: Great-Gaian-Mother-of-us-All
It’s like snapping awake from a black sleep
Here and now, centered, balanced, whole,
Breathing in, breathing out, in, out, in, out
Everything the same, everything different,
It’s always through the belly of the thing -
Not over, under, or around but through it

“Where am I? I ask
“Home,” she says.

Thank You, whew, finally ...

Short Story: Jackie Boy & Total Validation Training

Part One

Mae has learned to approach the farm hand carefully, jumpy fella, fully twenty yards away giving him fair warning of her approach, calling - Mickey?

Mickey facing out at the front pasture sipping coffee and raises a hand amicably without turning around, sipping from his coffee cup, his long hair as usual a tangled rats nest hanging down his back.

Mae stands over him looking down at at the pasture just stubble where Bill’s Blue Heeler races around at fantastic speeds this early spring morning through a thin mist laying low on the ground glowing softly pink in the early morning light. She says - I want to ask you a favor?

Sure, Ma, anything? Mickey says not looking up still watching Freddie literally running around in circles below them slicing paths through the thin veil of mist.

Well … for one, you know you can call me, Mae, right?

O I know.

Well Mickey why do you call me, Ma, or Mom?

Cause that’s what you are, Mae, a Mom.

She laughs a little, says - yea OK well not anymore my kids are grown and scattered to the four winds.

Ah, Ma, you know that don't change none of what you are.

Mae never was quite sure what the hell Mickey was saying and always had a sense of just let it go but also of not being able to let it go, either - OK, she starts then, kicking herself a little - so why don’t you call Bill, Dad, can I ask?

Still sipping coffee both of them now watching Freddie like some energizer bunny non stop racing around, Mickey says logically - Well Bill’s not a Dad really he’s a Husband and just feels awkward calling him, “Husband” but that’s what I call him in my mind. So I just call him, “Bill”. I think what we call things is important, I guess, maybe to answer your real question.With all due respect, Mom.

Well, Mae presses on – my husband and I really appreciate the job you’re doing, first of all, and we thought since you had said you always had dogs and trained them, maybe you could train Freddie, he’s a bit of a handful, you know?

Both of them watching the handful being a handful knowing Freddie would still be running around long after the morning mist burned off. Mickey says philosophically – you know, Ma, what amazes me about Jackie there is that he expends far more energy than he consumes and does it perpetually tell you what it’s a full on miracle if we could do that globally, that would be like some Free Energy technology, did you ever think of that?

Mae is thinking, “Jackie?” But she let’s it go – I never did think of that, Mickey, but, yea, point. So do you think you could kind of take … him on, train him, since you have experience?

Sure, Mickey agrees - I'd love that, finally rising up off the ground his coffee cup empty looking at Mae – but that training that was in another life now I’d have to train him a new way according to this life and I’ll need to keep him with me 24/7 for a while and train him my way. I have an idea of how to do it. I’ll call it, “Total Validation Training”.

Mae is thinking giddily, “Is it OK to keep him with you 24/7? Is that a real question OMG YES PLEASE!” but says – certainly, Mickey, whatever you think is best, thank you. But Mickey doesn’t respond he’s staring off into the copse of evergreen between them and the road eyes glazed over looking kind of lost – Mickey, she asks tentatively – Mickey, are you okay? She looks off where he is looking now as if to see what it is he is staring at but there's nothing but some trees - What do you see is there an owl in the trees?

Mickey startles back into recognition – ah, me what no I saw no not an owl really saw … everything … just everything … happens a lot these days. Apparently, Timothy Leary was mistaken. You really can do one too many acid trips - Laughing heartily – that was a joke, Ma! Mickey adds.

Mae thought it wasn’t exactly a joke and always wanted to glance away from the gaze of his steely blue eyes that seemed to look right down into her and always felt invasive somehow and she found herself saying out loud what she was in the middle of thinking - feels like you’re looking into my soul sometimes, Mickey, laughing a little nervously.

Mickey smiles now broader and with his eyes softening some – well yea, Ma, sure, cause I am. Where else would I look?

Mae let’s that go and asks – so you will, then, take on Freddie?

Sure, I will – handing her his empty coffee cup – if you’ll take that back up to the house, I’ll start right now, no time better than the present. He’ll accompany me in my chores from now on and he turns and yells down at Freddie – Jack! Jack! Jackie Boy! Jack! Jack! Jackie Boy! Jack! Jack! Jackie Boy! In a rapid staccato and Freddie wheels around instantly and charges up the hill at them and Mickey slaps his chest with the palms of his hands rapidly in cadence with the – Jack! Jack! Jackie Boy! repetition and Jackie leaps up from nearly ten feet out and flies into Mickey’s chest and Mickey spins around absorbing the impact holding now Jackie Boy in his arms saying – that’s my GOOD! BOY! O such a GOOD! BOY! who’s my GOOD! BOY! seeming to enjoy Jackie Boys very animated and very wet doggy kisses.

Mae shakes her head and walks back to the house, thinking, “Jackie Boy? WTF is that?!” and telling herself, “don’t ask, just don’t ask”.

Part Two

Total Validation is simple just what it sounds like nothing esoteric or complicated about it. Constant validation for just being. Dogs and children respond to it instinctively, adults not so much, many anyway, having gone so long and so profoundly invalidated, most unfortunately. It just requires directing love energy at the trainee. Jackie ate it up having had his fill of “don’t” and “stop it” and “goddamn you spastic little fucktard for the love of God man settle down” and etcetera. He knows exactly what those words and phrases mean just as would any pre-verbal child know. When he is sitting next to me, I lash out at him with a vigorous head rub, “who’s my GOOD BOY!” or scoop him up in my arms and hold him tight exchanging wet kisses, “such a GOOD BOY! yes you are a GOOD BOY! And OMG old Jackie Boy is responding perfectly giving, may I go there? Yes total validation to my Total Validation Training. He is an A+++ student!

How’s the training going? Bill asks, finding us eating lunch together in the barn.

I validate Jackie Boy with a head rub for eating his lunch – GOOD BOY! Jackie GOOD BOY! And he glances up from eating happily, ecstatically almost could say, utterly validated. To Bill, I say, See it’s working great!

Bill sounds a bit confused – well, Mick, what’s the training, I mean you know, the training part of it all?

O this IS the training part of it, Bill, I say positively.

Ah … Bill hesitates a second … OK Mick OK. Just seems like you have to reward him for doing something not just doing nothing, right, like positive reinforcement?

No, Nope, I explain, not really, that’s not at all what Total Validation Training is about. Total validation so yea the opposite of what you said, Jack gets constant validation without restraint or measure, simply for being, that’s the whole point of it.

Bill sounds a little uptight now – seriously what about the training part?

I don’t dig uptight so deflection is called for here – yea we’ll get to that, Bill, of course, that comes later first Jack here needs full immersion in validation for a while longer -

Bill interrupts me – Mick have you actually trained dogs before?

Well, I explain - like I told Mom -

Mae.

Right ... like I told her that was in another lifetime ago and now I have to do things differently so technically sure could be said that “I”’ have never actually trained a dog in my life (which makes me laugh and think it’s an inside joke about being reborn cracking myself up was an only child, you see, what can you do?) Bill I can tell doesn’t know what to say now?

I say – you have to give the training and Jackie Boy here some time, Bill. Don’t prejudge. He’s coming along beautifully. I have nothing but confidence in old Jackie Boy, rubbing Jackie's head affirmationally.

Bill turns and walks out of the barn without saying anything more then turns back around just outside and asks me – you know his name’s not Jackie, right?

Sure, I say, sure I know that, Bill. I got this, man. No worries. He’s in the best hands.

Part Three

Bill and Mae find Mickey cleaning out the goat stall and ask Mickey for a moment.

What’s up, guys? Mickey says, Jackie Boy by his side looking back and forth from them to Mickey. He’s a good bit calmer now. Mickey says excitedly – excuse me and directs himself at Jack – go play Jackie Boy go play! And Jack tears off into the goat pin racing around. Sorry, Mickey says – needs to burn off some energy, you know, cattle dog and all.

Well, Bill begins – Cattle dog exactly what we want to talk to you about.

Yes? Mickey says, looking at Mae. You OK, Ma, he asks her?

Mae nods affirmatively lets Bill talk – so, Bill says, thing is we have good friends who have a big cattle ranch and we’ve decided to give Freddie to them. They can actually use a Blue Heeler, you know, like make real use of him let him do what he is made to do -

Mickey interrupts – sure that’s great this little goat ranch is not enough for old Jackie Boy, he’ll love it there.

Mae speaks now – so you’re OK with it?

O yea, Mickey says sincerely, yea I already knew why I wanted to totally validate him, you know, it will be a little hard on him, I was thinking, moving there and all but he’s in great shape for it now.

Mae and Bill look at each other significantly. Bill says – OK Mick but you couldn’t have known about it cause we didn’t think of it until yesterday when Mae was talking to Anna and it came up?

Mickey says – excuse me a sec turning to call Jackie Boy back, under his breath mumbling, “yea never ends well when you tell them you’re psychic, so many assumptions” turning back to them as Jackie races up next to him and accepts a pat on the head. He tells them – it’s just logical, right, he’s a cattle dog and this is a small show goat ranch so I kind of figured something like this would happen and kind of figured best thing I could do is get him centered in himself so someone that knows how to can then train him to do the cattle work and all.

Mae and Bill both smile at this. Bill says – well that makes all the sense then, looking at Mae who shakes her head affirmatively adding herself – yes makes all the sense in the world.

Mickey smiles too now – yea, thank you for saying, adding –you have to really BE before you can really DO. Jackie Boy will knock it out of the park no doubt in my mind.

Transformation

I am become The New Creature
The old skin sloughed off at my feet
This new body a glistening wet glow

Affirmation: I Am a Strong Thing

I am strong in the ways that don't show. For instance, I don't think I've ever said before that I am strong. It is not that kind of strength that does not at times cry or even fall to its knees. It is not the kind of strength that does not feel its feelings. I feel my fear but I do not succumb to it. I feel despair but do not succumb to it. Hopelessness knows that it may come to me when it needs a hug and I will always be there to lift it up. Love comes and goes without restraint or measure. I am open not closed. I am accepting not rejecting. I am inclusive not exclusive. I am strong thing, strong like the willow tree.

Choosing Light

Open the doors, no,
Take them off their hinges 
And toss them aside!

Blow out all the windows now!
And blow off the roof overhead!
Let the walls tumble down too!
Let the bright light of world
Pour down into here and now!

Good, Perfect, standing naked
In judgeblown awe and bright light

America Meets Occupy Wall Street

America stumbles through the throngs everything so bright and everything so loud and everything so beautiful, you know - America stumbling stoned just the girl who drank the KoolAid at that party. She had been robbed and she had been raped and she had been brutalized by all the fears and all the greed and all the ego of men. Wearing tattered clothes, sporting her leanest physique ever, baring her cross of poverty and hopelessness and powerlessness and despair - Fuck it all to hell, America thinks, laughing out loud now, shamelessly - fuck it all to living hell yeah sure so what I drank that KoolAid!

She is not angry, really, just very, very stoned.

Hey, hey, she asks a passing tall, young man with a thick black beard wearing an old, worn baseball cap that reads: "Local 341" - hey, you! pointing a thin, long, bony finger at his chest - where the hell am I?

Your in Wall Street, Honey - just look up? the young man smiles, pointing his own finger directly upward at a thin patch of blue sky above between the towering buildings, laughing with America.

As America takes a long look upward, she hears the young man moving off now yelling back at her in a friendly way - Welcome to "Occupy Wall Street"!

Whatever THAT is? She wonders vaguely.

Those buildings scream up into the sky itself throwing her instantly into a fit of vertigo. America spinning in place a few times abruptly plops her thin ass down hitting the hard pavement with a thud. It sends a shock wave up from her tailbone through her spine popping out her crown chakra shooting up into that delirious sliver of blue sky above.

She thinks she might throw up.

Thinking to herself - I just need to sit here a moment: damn! Thinking a little wildly, giddy-lost in the rush of people swirling all around her at what seems to her just then fantastic speeds.

What the hell was in that KoolAid?

One thing is certain, America says out loud now with an inkling of clarity (but not so loud as anyone might hear her in the hustle of the busy, weekday street) looking up at the jitterbugging throngs of people around her and then further up past them again at the tops of the buildings and that magnificent sliver of bright, blue sky thinking seriously now - head spinning - these are my people here: RIGHT HERE GODDAMMIT!

America flashes a goofy grin at no one in particular just before throwing up violently onto the dirty pavement between her thin legs.

Walking Away from Juggling (Metaphysical Essay)

Woke thinking about the necessity to formally collapse the energy manifestation portal opened thinking how I had already been doing this just as an instinct and rolling it around in my mind a bit still just laying still having just woken - is this the right thing to do? and how do I know all this and should I consult an expert? then thinking no lay here and consult Source and that felt about right. So I did lay there and consult.

That led me to think about how a new energetic manifestation portal could be opened and then to thinking about for what then - after all the sky is not the limit - so I thought health, right, and yes that felt right. I thought too of wealth and thought to focus upon health for now so as not to get ahead of myself as I am feeling my through uncharted depths as it is - but, I became certain that this is not as I thought simply a bunch of nonsense and Abraham Hicks makes more sense than ever.

Then I following the path still having not moved my head from waking so as not to shake the spell and it led to trust in Source and I thought of that beautiful biblical line, "see the birds of the air and the flowers in the field, neither do they sow nor reap and yet their Father above does provide for them" and how that doesn't mean doing nothing, no it means trusting that what we do is supported by the universe itself not limited. I thought about abundance how that works about not giving in to that feeling of lack that makes me feel like I must clutch onto whatever it is I value or feel that I "have". Collapse the energy vortex in faith that if need be I can open it again - let it go, let it come, let it go, like the sun passing overhead descending into the earth and living in that faith in the darkness that the sun will rise again from the other horizon soon enough.

Then I thought wow right about Chakra energy feeling that same fear of lack that if I can push it up past the heart, I must then fight to keep it there for fear it will "fall" and I won't be able to get it back up. I had to laugh at myself on that one. I had felt intuitively best to keep in heart centered that is what feels best and it makes sense energetically because there is no effort in keeping it there only for me in pushing it higher. Then I thought fine even to let if drop down into the base Chakra for me anyway for life is for the living and romantic love and all of living for which I am so grateful and that the spiritual is in the carnal world, after all, everything is spirit, even the table I rap, rap rap my knuckles on here now.

So I got up seeking coffee and let everything collapse like a juggler who turns away from the juggling leaving the bowling pins to clatter behind him on the stage floor. Yea that feels right, too, time to make love to a cup of coffee.