Tatooed in my memory

The first time I surfed Sunset on the North Shore of Oahu is indelibley tatooed on my brain. No one can see it but me. All I have to do is close my eyes...

I'd been surfing Backyards for an hour or so. The waves were all over the place and I was not doing a very good job at catching anything too significant. While getting shoved around by the small waves, I kept looking down the beach to the next point - Sunset. It looked like there were only about 10-15 surfers out there. Meanwhile, it is only me at Backyards. After another missed wave and a tumble on the reef that ended up scratching the top of my foot, I decided to make the 100 yard paddle down to Sunset. It does not take very long because I am on a nine foot long board borrowed from my generous sister. In my mind I picture the other surfers being pros and hardcore experts. Sunset had a heavy rep in my mind. While still on the outside, I catch sight of a set of rogue waves coming thru in front of the horizon line. Instantly, I know that I am in perfect position. The second wave wants me and I want it, paddle, paddle, paddle and then bam! I am on it and it is big and it is good. My whole world becomes this giant wall of water that gets bigger and bigger as it jacks up on the reef. Suddenly, what looks like a 12 year old surfer girl drops in on my wave. I am deep in the tube and this startles me enough that I fall off the board and then I am in the giant washing machine on spin cycle.

I can remember being shocked and awed. The experience showed me how I'd invented a scenario which intimidated me. In my mind, I thought that it'd be all hardcore male surfers. When in actuality, it was like 8 young girls and 2 or 3 dads. To this day it is one of my favorite rides even though I fell off it. It was the summer, maybe 3 or 4 years ago and now it is a moving picture tatooed in my memory.

Brother Bri, riding the blue

Brother Bri, riding the blue, originally uploaded by surfer x.

Turtle Bay, North Shore, Oahu.

Brian looks serious, as he catches an overhead.

Washing sheets and makin' waves

About a week ago, while at Farmer and the Cook, a young girl said: "So, you have lots of red sheets?" I said "Yeah... well where I work we do." An older woman sitting at the same table suddenly came to life and said: "It was you, you are the one who got so angry at the laundry!" I was like: "Woh, wait a second, I remember that, you freaked out because I started using one of your dryers. I waited like 25 minutes. Your dryer finished its cycle. I waited 25 minutes." Older woman: "Oh, it was my boyfriend's clothes." Thats when the young woman, S, yells "Can't we just drop it!"

I leave that scene immeditately. A little too twisted for me. That laundry incident happened at least a 18 months ago. The charge had lay buried but still had some potency. Thus, when I found this post, I was like ahh.

[written at least 18 months ago]

The chineese symbols on this journal depict love. Ironically, my first entry will involve hate and fear.

Today was laundry day. I slowly eased Baba's (Bagavan Das) dirty cream colored van down the windey roads, rock music coming out of a decent system keeping my fear of flaw at bay. Not thinking about the lack of insurance or possible lack of that is. Baba doesn't even know I'm driving his hippie rig. I just use it for retreat laundry.

My timing was off a bit and there was a few peops ahead of me, filling up all the dryers - the bottle neck of all laundry operations. When my red sheets complete the wash, rinse and spin cycles, I see that all the dryers are filled with clothes and such. Several dryers stop and just sit there. No one comes in to pull clothes of them out or throw in more quarters. I wait 25 more minutes before pulling the clothes out, placing them in an empty basket, putting my sheets in and starting them spinning once again. Soon after, a middle-aged woman zips in, eyes blazing, lips pressed tight against her teeth. She blurts out: "These clothes are still damp, couldn't you..." She trails off.

I answer: "I waited 25 minutes after your dryers had stopped before putting my sheets in."

She spits out: "You could at least say you are sorry."

I reply: "You should say you're sorry. You've held me up. Next, I'll be holding up the people waiting after me. I'm between a rock and a hard place."

The 50 something woman has nicely dyed streaks of blonde running thru her gray straight hair. Her eyes shoot sparks like a car bottoming out as she rampages against some mirror image cobweb of memory dragging the past past the present snaring random men like myself. An extreme example of passive aggressive disorder. I use the confrontation to strengthen my ability to stay grounded and centered while under attack from white zombie feminatzi.

It aint easy bein me
when you know it
you really know it
but you can not show it
don't make waves
amongst the slaves

The Keys to Your Heart

You are attracted to those who are unbridled, untrammeled, and free. In love, you feel the most alive when things are straight-forward, and you're told that you're loved. You'd like to your lover to think you are stylish and alluring. You would be forced to break up with someone who was ruthless, cold-blooded, and sarcastic. Your ideal relationship is open. Both of you can talk about everything... no secrets. Your risk of cheating is zero. You care about society and morality. You would never break a commitment. You think of marriage as something precious. You'll treasure marriage and treat it as sacred. In this moment, you think of love as something you thirst for. You'll do anything for love, but you won't fall for it easily.

What Are The Keys To Your Heart?

Send a post card to your self

[Thursday 10 October 2002 Big Island Hawaii]
RED GALACTIC SERPENT

As I entered Papa's, James' eyes met mine as he stood framed by the dream catcher hanging from a beam. He smiled as I walked over and greeted him. As we talked, I recognized the flavors of anxiety and agitation in the set of his jaw, the strain in his eyes and over all tension oozing from his pores. He seemed to have continual negative judgement for the various world dramas, other humans and himself. He also has judgement on his judgements. So, today, after having noticed this patern during the past 10 days of random meetings, I tried to point his judgemental affliction in a non-judgemental fashion. I consumed a Dean-made papaya/banana smoothie and then ended up wearing the therapist's hat when Melissa asked if she could speak confidentially about a situation in her life.

I sent a post card to my folks and another to Danny Webb. I also set up a general delivery account at the post office and sent a post card to my self. This will enable me to aquire a library card which will allow me to access the internet.

Back at Papa's, I ate a falafal pita sandwich that was delectable. Played the didj for a while. Watched the daily rain cleant the road. Saw Norman selling honey in front of the corner restaurant. He seemed exuberant, said he was fasting today. I ended up playing the didj there, receiving many compliments from the various patrons entering and exiting.

Today I questioned my self: How long do I want to be here?

Made some phone calls from the one public phone booth in town. Spoke with brother Kev. Spoke with Spoon from Pennsylvania and he seemed fine as usual. Spoke with Mcuen, he and kesenia are couch surfing, he's lable hunting. He tells me all of Ojai is under construction. He wanted to know when to expect me back in Cali.

Realized it was dreaming last night when it was raining in doors. This was a difficult dream. Details are hazy but I was very uncomfortable - moaning "I must be dreaming, I must be dreaming..." I was and woke up. Next dream: I'm on the back of a piggy-back truck (truck train), Then I'm driving a vehicle fast and suddenly swerve off the road to avoid some debris. I end up tearing up some one's lawn a bit. It is a woman's, she comes out and goes ballistic like a rabid dog. I try to placate her and say: "I'll come back and fix it." I cruise away.

The facade is eroding

After several weeks, if not several months, I made it to the farmer's market. I parked my bike and sat on a bench with Joeseph. We shot the breeze with various words and then he asked the question: "What do you think happened on 9-11?"

My response was immediate: "The second I saw the footage on TV, I knew it was the $hrub $yndicate. They stole the election and it was obvious the whole thing was part of an agenda to get oil and power."

Joeseph agreed and went on to tell me about a dude that has spent a fortune researching that day and sharing his research at reopen911.org. This organization willl send a free DVD which delves into the hard evidence that disproves the story that was presented to the world.

While riding home on my motorcylce, I stopped at a holiday party that was happening at Glen Muse. The scene was pretty mellow, kids running around, cookies, fruit cake and wine. I soaked in the hot tub with Robbie and Simone. The weather has shifted and given us temps that have now started to drop in to the low 40's at night. This is not the best of news for those of us who drive around on motorcycles. This is one reason why the soak was sooo nice.

Afterwards, I end up conversing with Johan and Gerard. Gerard brings up the 9-11 topic. He's pretty convinced that it was all staged. Says that the Pentagon could not have been hit by a plane, no wreckage, size the the hole is too small. He says it was all done for 2 reasons. Basically, think tanks have been looking into the future scenarios and basically they pretty much came to the conclusion that we need oil. The second reason was that it enabled us to gather all the intelligence around the world - intelligence from every country - that would allow them to consolidate more power. Gerard also talked about how the book, Dune, by Frank Herbert, was basically about oil, Isalm, the Catholic church and Sufis.

Time arrives for me to motor up the hill and get on the internet. I check a few of my favorite sites - Twisp being one of them. He has not posted in a week or so but he was in synch with my day. Without further ado, please check this video link.

Secret riots and mellow yellow

Last night saw me attend a friend's birthday party with Highlove. Sandy turned 41 and celebrated the day on the East side of Ojai with predominantly post 40 year olds. There was a fire outside, catered food on the inside and people scattered about. When we arrived, I Kinda just hung back, only a couple folks there that I knew. Sandy seemed to be surrounded my layers and layers of people. She was like a planet with a whole bunch of moons. Highlove slips thru all the protective satellites and hands over his gifts. I wait a while, looking for a way thru the crowd and unable to see any way thru without having to make people get out of the way. It occurs to me that she may feel a bit bogged down by all the attention anyway and so I find a chair and just sit there.

Finally, I see an opening and wade thru into an inner orbit. Sandy sees me, we make eye contact and I offer up my gift of a bottle of wine. Her eyes twinke and she voices her appreciation.

I grab a plateful of food - salmon, sushi, humus and pita bread. Sit out in front of the fire on the ground and chow down. I even go for seconds. Then I manage to squeeze some pumkin pie, carrot cake and a few cookies into my shocked stomach. Ohh boy, little did I know that my gluttonous binge would harpoon the whole next day (today).

After the binge, about 4 or 5 of us stared at eachother across the fire and discusse some of the current events. One of the interesting tidbits to come concerned the riots that have been happening in France. 2 of the gentlemen who participated in the conversation are French. Phillipe, relayed information that he has heard that I have not caught a wiff of on the inernet or TV. What Phillipe has heard is that the riots have spread to Belgum, Holland and Germany. It is kind of interesting that there seems to be a news black out on this subject withing the US.

As the party wound down, I made my way into the house thru the sliding glass door. Joining Highlove, Dave and Sandy on the floor, I began to DJ a bit with the ITunes on Sandy's new PC notebook. Mark released a few monologues and then pose a question to Sandy: "What's your status?" Initially she was confused by this question but then sort of answered it. She turned and looked at me and asked: "What's your status?" I had a reply ready: "I'm just a human in a goddess town, oscillating between lost and found." The three of them made sudden roar of approval and then Sandy said: "I'm just a goddess in a human town." I laughed and voiced my appoval.

Highlove and I manage to get out of there around 2 AM.

Next morning, Daisy and Sheba wake me up aound 6 AM. I am literally moaning from the heart burn from last night's poor choice in food combining. Ughh. I get up like an hour later because the owners are returning that morning. I gather all my various objects and devices and stager them outside the fence. I leave the gate open and walk up to my motorcycle. Daisy looks at me, looks at the open gate and then dashes out. Her manner is playful. I watch this happen along with Sheba. She does not make a move. I flashback to the first time I was dog sitting Daisy, maybe 2 years ago. It took me a couple hours and alot of aggrivation befrore I managed to catch her. So, this time I stayed completely calm. Grabbed 2 leashes. Leashed up Sheba and started to follow the playful Daisy. We only walked a block or so before Daisy came over to me and let me slip the chain around her neck. That was it, no histrionics, they call me mellow yellow...

Pipe dreams

[Oahu Sepember 12, 2002]

Surfed 9/11 yesterday at Turtle Bay with Bri. It was small, short and oh so sweet. Only 5 of us surfers out there. Party waving, loving it. Warm water. Beautiful sunset, spotlights. Video camera, still shots. Small slow waves, top breaking. Brother Bri more stoked for me to catch a wave than himself. I caught one on his short board and stood up quickly. Bri was on his ole 10 footer next to me. Halfway, the wave shrugged me off - just too small for that board. But I stood on that wave with my brother and it was nice. Afterwards, Bri's like: "Get a 10 footer, we'll do this all winter. I'm like "Yeah, right on."

It feels time for me to establish my self in this artificial world. I can see the need for balance within this life of mine. It has always been just a matter fo deciding what I want. I recognize a prime window of opportunity for me to establish my own business. My own place. Steady work. My own longboard. A truck. A few machines I can make plenty of cash, surf, save it up and then have a resource base to fund my various artistic endeavors.

Currently, I am on a vacation from the didj. guilt free because of my rededication towards the internal martial art aspect of my training. Tai chi has become a full joy again and it has taken less than a month to begin to really feel the chi again. The novelty factor is so high and rewarding.

I have been down this path before
longing to open that broken door
to glimse inside your prison cell
where heaven is used to maintain hell

Happy Grateful Day!

For Bardo Surfer, every day is a holiday. We tend to not get to excited or caught up in the various holidays which seem to all get funneled into being a consume-twice-as much-glutton-day. But Thanksgiving holds a special place among all of the days that are celebrated thru out the year. Only Halloween equals the greatness that Thanksgiving achieves year in and year out.

The human brain tends to only remember things that are broken or incomplete. Combine this individual propensity with the mass media's obsession with magnifying the destructive aspects of humanity and you get the confusing and distorted sea of information that we all are living in. With the mass delusions constantly competing for our attention, the ability to feel thankful and grateful becomes increasingly endangered. That is why, here on Bardo Surfer, we are making every day - 365 per year - Grateful Day. While we are at it, maybe we can also make every day Halloween as well. Except for one day a year when we won't feel grateful or dress in a costume. We'll call it: Boring Mad Day.

I spent this Grateful Day up on the estate. Eliza prepared an awesome meal which was highlighted by raw stuffing. She also cooked her first turkey that was quite delicious. I actually had a bite of turkey this year - some of the white meat and it was good. This is my first meat in 12.5 years. There was a nice salad, tastey mashed potatoes and green peas. It was so good that I had seconds. Dessert consisted of pumkin pie, apple pie, vanilla and coffee ice cream and apples with cinnamon and maple syrup. Of course we drank some of Bill's amazing wine. Daryl was present along with his 2 kids: Tianna and Seany. Will was there. Nick was also along for the ride -he brought the pumkin pie. Skip made a brief cameo initially but he bolted once the food came out. He only eats food at Antonio's restaurant. Jean stopped by after dinner and Bill had to stop him from washing dishes.

So much to be thankful for this year. Many things have fallen into place for me while other things are falling apart. I am grateful for it all. When I breathe in I destroy worlds; when I breathe out I create worlds. Om Shiva.

Princess gets her stitches out

Another day sitting on houses. Only have 3 today. Bring in mail for all of them, after I drive the RV with all my junk to the house where my CBR 900 awaits. Such a nice switch - from the slow 4 cylander giant snail to the insanely fast and nimble king of the concrete jungle motorcycle. The cat, Na'la, waits for me on top of a tarp which is covering something or other, probably tiles. There's a chopsaw on top of it all presumably to keep the brown tarp from blowing away. And that is where the quirky calico kitty cat Na'la sits. At first I thought Na'la's new hang out spot was just a novelty but now it has be come the strange home for her. It sits in the middle of the driveway, out in the open. She's normally so skittish. I guess the 4.5 feet height makes her feel safe. She's happy to see me and lets me give her some comfort in the form of petting. I feed her and she gives me a couple of her strange meows. Than it is time to feed the fish. "Hi fish!" They all just dart around. Seem to have a lot of anxiety for goldfish.

Phone rings: it's Bill, wants to know if I am joining him and his family for Thanksgiving. "Sure." Then he puts me on with Willie. Willie asks me if I'll take Princess to the vet to get her stitches out. "Sure."

So, Willie and I head over to the vets with Princess once again captured in the little cage. She meows a bunch of times in her melodic way - designed to garner maximum empathy. She's less freaked out than the last times in the cage. Willie has the pet transporter on his lap while she meows every 3 seconds and he tries to keep her calm. The most stress for me was waiting in the lobby with all these dogs barking. Finally, they get around to us and within a minute, the doctor has her stitches out, declares her good and healthy and wishes us a Happy Thanksgiving.

When we're all back in the Volvo, doors closed, windows up, we let her out so she can wonder around the vehicle while we drive back so she won't feel so confined. Princess is totally fascinated, staring out the window, checking different views and then coming up to the front to sit on my lap and then making her way around the car again. When we arrived back at the house she let out a very sweet and joyful "Meeow". I opened the door, she sat on my lap for 10 seconds, jumped out of the car, scooted under the bushes in front of the house and disappeared.

The war against biology

Just drove down Foothill Road in a Toyota C class RV with all of my junk in it. Very surreal. The shocks in this thing are very loooose and so I really took my time. The only noise was the venetian blinds hitting the back window. When I drove thru the gate I let out a "Whooo." Not anything out of hand though. But I cannot downplay the significance of the moment. I have, for all intesive purposes, moved off the land. What's interesting is that I have not moved anywhere in actuality. My life of house sitting will continue. My comfortable lifestyle is not coming to an end so please do not worry. It is kind of cool to have all of my belongings in limbo. Normally, it is the soul which ventures off into the twilight zone, in between worlds, while the physical body wanders and wonders what the hell happened. But with me, it is just my stuff that is floating in the nenter land.

Earlier today, while eating a late lunch at Farmer and the Cook, the big topic of conversation was the young teacher who got busted for having sex with a 14 year old boy. I'm like: "Why do we keep trying to put people in jail for victimless crime?" My friends Joeseph, Raymond and Jade all felt the same way. This event probably made the kid's life. Thus we were all pleased that she did not get any jail time. Obviously, she should not be teaching kids. Taking away that possibility is punishment enough. Putting a woman in jail for this for 15 years is ridiculous and another example of what a repressive and puritanical regime we live in.

For me, the whole issue is just an example of how our culture is at war with biology. It is kind of like an extremely extravagant biology tax which not only wants your money but would also like your time, your freedom.

Remember the last time a female teacher got busted for this? She spent how many years in jail? And what happened when she finally got out? She married him. This more than anything shows that it was the culture that was wrong. Whenever I see that woman, I feel shame for this system we live in.

The various news broadcasters reaction was telling. It shows how they are just instruments for the system, lacking compassion for the individual, denying the powerof biological drives and desires. The big question I kept hearing asked was: "What kind of message does this send?" I say message smessage. This woman has been dragged thru the hypocritical media gauntlet long enough. The justice system should never be about sending a message. The justice system should never be about scape goating. This would only derail its purpose. Now, if you want to scape goat some one, than scape goat the president. That is what he's there for - along with all
the other carpet baggers.

Out of the basement

House sitting for 4 houses at the same time is easier than it sounds. The one factor that makes it all flow is that all the houses are in close proximity. I started a new one today that will last for five days. It involves walking 2 dogs: Daisy and Sheba. I must say, these 2 dogs were extremely happy to see me, tails wagging up clouds of dust and toothy smiles wothy of a dog calendar. So, I give them what they want: a nice long walk. From my experience, nothing makes a dog happier than taking it for a walk. They live for this. I can never impress this on dog owners enough: if you got dogs, walk 'em!

Thus, the dogs and I went on a nice 30+ minute walk around town while the frantic energy of rush hour traffic framed our bliss-filled experience. It always amazes me how much the dogs stop and smell everything. I often wonder what information they are extracting from the urine and feces of other dogs and animals. It seems like it acts as a bulletin board or something. Maybe even like the personals in a newspaper. Are they diagnosing potential maladies? (sniff, sniff, sniff, hmmm... this dog's got worms). I always give them some time to get their smell entertainment. Tonight, we ran into a friend who was with his 11 month baby girl who is walking around. Right when she saw me she put her arms up for a hug. Wow, this is the first time I saw her and she was so sweet. Then Daisy gave her a kiss.

Earlier in the day I finally cleared all of my stuff out of the basement. Whew... glad the aspect is overwith. I trimmed away some of the excess and then went to drop it at a local thrift shop. When I get to Second Helpings, I spy a big sign: "No Donations". The next attempt also fails. The lady who owns the store was like: "Do you have alot of stuff?" I respond: "Yeah, but 90 percent is quality." She's like: "Sorry." And so this town is so small that we only have 2 thrift shops. Tomorrow I will try again.

Still earlier today, I watered plants fed cats, fed fish and did some tai chi and yoga.

The slam bam illness is still clinging to my lungs like some kind of fiend. While carrying up my varous storage containers from the basement, the dust was irritaing my lungs in a major way. Tonight I shall collect Eucalyptus leaves, boil them and pour it all in a bath. This is a kick ass folk remedy.

Only grin if some one's taking a photo

The changes on the estate that began with an all-must-vacate-edict last September have resulted in the relocation of two couples and a baby. The not so famous Millenium (self-proclaimed rocket scientist) Twain and his wife, Megumi, have found a home and I do not no where. They left without leaving any word with Bardo Surfer and so we had to use our keen skills of observation to detect their departure. The give away was that the fridge was empty of his various 2-quart mason jars and the kitchen was absent of his small Japaneese dolls which he used to ward off evil. When I said something to Jean, our winemaker, he said: "Yeah, they found a home." The Gates family has left the estate as well. Their (used to be theirs) dome is emty. They have put up another one just down the road.

Meanwhile, my friend Robby has been having a hard time at the Glen Muse estate just down the hill. He has lived and worked there for nine months. Putting in vast amounts of time and not getting payed. While soaking with him and Jen in the hot tub here on my (while I house sit) estate, he shared his frustration with the ongoing saga of not getting compensated for his dedication. Several months ago, he explained the situation to me. It sounded like it had been resolved. But no, it never was. Sometimes words are like vampires, when the light of day hits them, they turn to dust.

Robby tells me that he's at the end of his rope. By far, he has gotten the short end of the stick and is over it. He's ready to move off. My advice was to try to focus on how his life has improved by living there and what lessons he can take with him so that his good and trusting nature won't be exploited again. Because lets face it, no one wins unless everyone wins - that is the secret to planetary success.

Maybe this is the lesson I need more than anybody. My own personal victory arrives when I make those around me shine. Peace means no one is excluded.

Tomorrow, I will finally get my stuff out of the basement. It will all temporarily go into a small Toyota RV that belongs to a good friend of mine who happens to be one of the persons I am house sitting for. The Ojai shuffle is a locally famous game that we all play at some time or another. I had managed to watch from the sidelines for 2 years but circumstances have caught up with me. I cannot say that I am too surprised. Basically when it comes to the shuffle, I got game, I mean it - bring it on. I've gone years with not having to pay rent, mixing up where I sleep from, rammed earth houses, to 6 million dollar houses, to tee-pees, to motor homes, to a friend's back yard, house sits, what ever...

So my plan is loose, take it as it comes, don't blink, don't flinch and only grin if some one's taking a photo - and then ask for a copy.

The man stuck in a dungeon while a volcano is erupting

If you do a Yahoo search for "the man stuck in a dungeon while a volcanoe was erupting" Bardo Surfer will come up number one. Do I get an award for this or what?

Anytime anyone claims that the words they have spoken, written, sung, heard or seen are divinely inspired, they are attempting to bipass your healthy skepticism, your healthy agonsticism either consciously or unconsciously. Warning lights should come on as you realize that someone is going overboard in the need to persuade department. The almost infinite need to gain approval. The need to feel worthy. When various sources of the media continue to quote the fake president as saying that he is doing what God tells him to do, when I see and hear him saying this on video over and over, then I am ready to start drawing conclusions concerning his mental health and stability. He seems to have some very good habits. His physical activity is a positive sign. His vigilance on getting enough sleep is also a good sign. At least he has a few good things going for him. Red flags start to be raised when we learn that he believes that God is telling him to bomb Iraq.

Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain

Extremely informative Rolling Stone article concerning the anatomy of current information warfare.

Toxic surfing location

The beauty of this day was a bit muted by my bout with this intense cold. When I awoke, my muscles and joints still felt achey and my head still hurt although the vice like pressure had reduced somewhat. As the day progressed, I felt as though the intense part of this storm had passed. At one point, I sat on the porch stunned by the vivid beauty. It is as if my senses have been heightened. Well... actually my sense of sight. My nose is still a bit too clogged to bring that sense on line.

While at Rainbow Bridge, I ran into Gunnar. Jennifer had informed me earlier today that he'd been sick all week and that he'd been hit pretty hard. After talking with him, I learned that he became sick just when I did. But here's the kicker: we both surfed at Surfer's Point (C Street) in Ventura on Monday! Bam!! We had the same exact symtoms and were both in awe how hard this bacteria or whatever kicked our ass.

So, it is only moments later when I turn to Chad and proclaim: "That's terrorism, I mean come on, when these corporations can get away with poisoning our ocean or the infrastructure is so pathetic that sewage just gets dumped right into the ocean. All this talk about making our country safe! What a bunch of bullshit. When surfers are getting poisoned than a line has been crossed."

Chad just smiles. He says: "I hope you get better soon."

Someone at another table eating his dinner expresses sympathy for my getting sick and has me repeat the toxic surfing location.

Release

[Wednesday October 24, 2002, Kauai]

Spent Wednesday driving South to a beach on the other side of Pa'i. Very powerful emotionally compressed day. Immersed in grief, sadness; tears squeezed out. Felt like I was going crazy. Couldn't pin point why just unchecked emotion that must have been pent up and now it's finally releasing enmasse.

Went to a beach with white hot sand which burnt the souls of my feet. The waves were pretty big and strong. The current was crazy rippin. I swam out and body surfed, a bit surprised how gentle the ride was. The waves tried to suck me back out. I came back in and ate avacado spread on brown rice cakes, watching the waves. There were couples on either side. They'd go in to the water in pairs. The man out 10 feet further than the woman. The man, round with too much fat and the woman somewhat fitter but still to much jiggle in the butt. One guy floated around on a boogey board, unable to catch a wave, just floundering around in the frothy white wake while his skin reddened slowly in the bright sun. His lobster red less red than it could have been thanks to big white clouds marching across the sky propelled by a fierce wind.

Link of the day

Human skateboard rules!

Tubes

It has been a few years since I have been ill. Normally, my energy level drop is the only sense I have that my immune system is solving a problem. This time, though, my symptoms are more pronounced. Super sore throat, achey, fatigued, head ache... and this is what I had to deal with for my 90 minute trip to LAX to get Skip. It was great to see him. As we walked to his suddenly very clean but still beat up truck - earlier that day, I'd brought it to a carwash and also had the oil changed - I informed him of my weakened condition and basically said: you're driving. Driving one way had been quite enough - it had been an endurance test.

The drive back was punctuated by Skip occassionally losing focus while on the PCH. At one point I had to grab the wheel and steer to avoid a parked car. "Thanks for that," says Skip. Also, Skip was not shifiting very smoothly, gunning the engine with too many revs before switching gears. At times, he'd act like he was Mario Andretti and we'd suddenly be racing along at 80 MPH.

"Hmm," I thought to myself, "maybe I should have driven afterall." Anyway, the trip back was still cool catching up with the king of dirt. We discussed the current situation at Bill's. Contrary to what Bill has told me repeatedly, Skip aint going nowhere. When I borught up my status he was able to clarify Bill's position more. Well... not really, it is all kind of nebulous. It is a game of hot potoato, pin the tail on the donkey, you say tomato I say freezer, the hunt for the latest scape goat. From the beginning, I knew I'd not live here forever. 2 years is a decent run. I am much better off than when I started - in multiple ways.

My last conversation was something like this:

Bill: Do you want to live in the super adobe?

Me: I'd love to live in the super adobe.

Bill: You're too moody though.

Me: You are right I am very moody... I know I can be difficult."

When I relayed this conversation to Skip he shot out a loud burst of laughter, "If that isn't the kettle calling the pot black, then I don't know what is."

The combination of being sick and Skip's eratic driving caused me to postpone the audio inerview and besides only one person asked Skip a question and that question was a bit off center:
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upier said...
I stumbled across your blog today, very enlightening. Unfortunately, I can't think of any questions to ask Skip... unless you want to ask him the question that's been haunting me lately: How do people in full body casts go to the toilet?

3:42 AM
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Skip's response to the question was: "I'm not qualified to answer that."

Me: "Tubes."

First time on the Big Island

[Oahu and Big Island, Saturday September 28, 2002]

I sat on Backyard's picnic bench with Roberto watching fairly clean head high and double overhead waves carry surfers on swift powerful rides. He did not say a word, just letting the waves speak for him. Part of me was in shock. I could not believe my day of departure had arrived so soon. The unknown zone appears like a wave in the dark and is about to carry me away. I had packed what I thought I needed. I'd done this hastily and I was afraid I'd taken too much [I had way too much]. Liz drove me to the airport weaving in a trip to Cosco and a mail drop off to Kris. Caio grew excited and said "I love the airport!" Soon enough, I began the arduous process of making my way thru the various airpot security screenings thanks to the 9/11 knee jerk response. They singled out my check in baggage for "further screening". They checked my didjeridoo. After sitting around for a few minutes, time to board the plane... but... wait a second... they need to check my carry on bag, my shoes and wave the magic wand metal detector around my body which will secretly ward off evil.

The plane ride was brief and I did not drink any of the high fructose corn syrup that the stewardice gave me disguised as juice. After grabbing my bags fro the carousel, I was told by the information lady that there's no bus. Mentally, I was prepared to hitch hike but my resolve crumpled after feeling the wieght of my backpack on my back and observing the long road out. I ended up in a mini van taxi with a friendly guy named George driving. He talked quite a bit although I had difficulty deciphering his heavily accented english.

He dropped my off in the 2nd half of the 2 block town that is Pahoa. I went to the health food store and drank some real juice with super greens. The locals I spoke with were exceptionally friendly and I learned of a hostel up the road. I found it on my second pass. Initially, the woman in charge claimed that the inn was full - so to speak. I persisted and she said I could put my tent up under the Banyun Tree. She said that I could store my stuff in a beat up old shack just behind it.

Leaving my stuff in the moldy shack, I was able to walk thru town unencumbered. I stopped at a hippie-ish rainbow colored cafe type restaurant (Papa's) and met the manager/cook, Dean. We talked for a while and he really helped me feel at home. He invited me to a gathering at this place next Saturday. After dinner, I walked down the street and met a guy selling honey. He really liked my sandals. Once I said they needed repair, he offered to do it. I agreed and so it sounds like he'll do this in about 8 days.

After a second visit to the health food store, I walked back thru the 2 block town and made my way back to my new temporary home. I am in my black Walrus bivvy inside the beat up moldy shack where the mosquitos cannot reach me.

Buried under an avalanche of abodes

The changes which began brewing back in September - 10 days in front of my 39th revolution around the sun to be exact - are finally coming to a head. After having all of my belongings stored in the basement of the Pratt House for around 18 months, Bill basically said: "You gotta get your stuff out of the basement, I know you don't have that much but we have such little space... we need to put baby stuff down there."

With my upcoming December trip to the North Shore less than 3 weeks away, I had already begun formulating contingency plans, anticipating the broaching of this very subject: "Yeah, I'm just gonna put everything in storage and that'll be that."

What makes all of this very interesting is that my sole vehicle is a CBR 900 Honda motorcycle. But just like a Super Mario video game which has elevators appear at just the right times to help Mario cross over pitfalls, monsters, abysses and such, loaner vehicles appear, allowing me to surf whenever I want or move my belongings around in circles. My current loaner vehicle has been courtesy of Skip - the crown prince of dirt, soda and fire. I pick him up at LAX this Wednesday night. This will end my abilty to utilize the creamy beat up Toyota pick up truck for my crucial surf sessions and wahtever else. No need to worry, just like a video game, a loaner vehicle has appeared. I will gain use this Saturday morning. My next random rig will be a Toyota camper which is self contained (shower, bathroom, kitchen) and can sleep up to 5 people. I can feel you all breathing a collective sigh of relief for me and I must say: "Thank you all very much, I am deeply touched." Because it is a Toyota and C class, the miles per gallon will not kill me - take that Exxon!

I don't know if it is the time of year or something but I am swamped with house sits right now. At this moment I am taking care of 3 houses and 6 cats. This Saturday, I'll begin another house sit with one cat that will last 9 days I think. Next Monday I'll start a 5 day house sit with 2 dogs. To add up the whole avalanche of dogs, cats and abodes for the next 2 weeks goes something like this: 2 dogs, 7 cats and 5 homes (actually, its 6 homes counting the guest house here on the estate).

It's not all bad, don't get me wrong. Currently, I have a huge house to my self, flat screen TV upstairs, WiFi, pool, jacuzzi and 14 acres. Don't forget the kick ass yoga studio too.

Tomorrow, I shall mow my friend's lawn, his wife, Jolanka, is in the hospital and could use a few prayers - if anybody has any to spare that is. I know that there's a lot of suffering out there so my expectations are realistic. OM AH HUM.

As I already mentioned, Skip is arriving at LAX Wednesday night. I'm wondering if anyone has any questions for Skip. He's my most popular topic here on Bardo Surfer. Just leave them in the commets section as you please. If there are some good questions, I'll interview him and audio blog it for your listening pleasure.

Today, I surfed once agian at Surfer's Point. The tide was way low and there was a fog which hid the surfers and waves from the shore. I paddled out in the not too cold water. When I got outside, I could see that there were not too many surfers out. Thank goodness. I'm glad some body's got to work today, it is Monday for goodness sake. The conditions are a tad on the rough side. It is a NW swell which is a bit too head on for this particular break. The challenge was being in the right place at the right time and I aint talking aobut the Republicans, no siree bob. If they keep it up right will mean wrong and left will mean right and then where will we be?

So, anyway, I am out there shrouded by the mist and taking in this cloudy day. At times the sun appeared as a silver disc and managed to burn away some of the moisture in the air and I'd feel warm. These periods did not last long and soon the surreal Salvadore Dali world would reappear. I managed to catch about 7 waves. 2 or 3 good ones got away from me as I fell into the almost glassy water with their image and sound burned into my brain as they roll away - wshhhhhh.

Slow motion funeral

[Oahu, North Shore, September 2002]

Departure for the Big Island looms ahead as it is now set in my mind for Saturday. I still need to purchase a ticket and pack. I played tennis with brother Bri and his friend Matt. I had a great time. I ran around after anything close but was only able to hold my serve once or twice. Bri steamrolled, serve never broken. He had very few unforced errors and did a good job of controlling the point. Matt played pretty well. He's quite fit and young looking for being in his 50's.

Afterwards, I spoke with Bri about the reasons behind my departure to the Big Island. [My intention upon arriving on Oahu was to relocate to the North Shore; get a job; get my own place... but less than a month after arriving, I had no job and no where to live... except for my sister's]. He just listens as my list of reasons grow and mutate the longer I talk; various, seemingly unrelated bits of nonsense. I must really seem crazy to him. It may be wise to stop bouncing my ideas off him but I so need to talk it out. Part of me just desperate to be understood - acknowledged.

We drive over to Foodland for some snacks. There's a couple drunken voluntary hosts to greet Brian and I with offers of coupons for Beer. I put my hands together as if in prayer and say: "You have my condolences." Too forthright? Self righteous? Pretentious? Bri kind of shudders. He's more into the low key personna than I. Don't know, but I just saw them as this slow motion funeral for themselves. A funeral so surreal, taking place over several years and at different places where ever there's some cheap booze.

The subject of women comes up and I lament my inability to play the dating game. It's all Japaneese to this cowboy. Bri tells me that the guy to girl ratio favors the women - especially when the winter time of big swells arrive. Tetosterone rules, hard core surfers get the waves and the girls and the slim pickins only get slimmer. Yeah, nothing left for me except the bottom crawlers. I try to slip out of biology's lasso, focus on things like tai chi, yoga and the didj, escape the gravity of the situation, reprogramming other things to motivate me on the earth plane but it's sure nice to be appreciated by the other gender.

While in town, I strike up a conversation with a bamboo didj player. He's been on Oahu for a couple monts and is waiting of some work exchange for accomidation. Meanwhile, he camps out. He pointed out a couple spots for me but I did not pay much attention as I am leaving Saturday and all. It was nice to talk to a like-minded individual. He's from Long Beach, California. At one point, he lived in Colorado and told me about a crazy cool town in the desert that has a pop. of like 100 or so. Jacob climbs. I told him about the bouldering at Waiamea Bay.

It is our nature to be in nature

When a yoga retreat has over 40 people, it makes for a fairly hectic weekend for this bardo surfer. When you add six children to the mix it becomes an endurance marathon. The house here is nearly 100 years old - along with all the requisite antiques. The maplewood floors are original and I won't even mention the light fixtures. If that isn't tight rope wire enough for you then lets throw in the swimming pool (not fully enclosed) and the barranca (canyon) which runs all along behind the house - 60 feet away. Wooh! Feel free to take a breath. Lucky for me, I had the house sit up the road with a natural hot spring to relax and recharge.

To help alleviate the owner's stress, I was asked to help supervise the children. They are all great kids so it was kind of fun for the most part to share some of my little musical hobbies. Just a few hours ago I was teaching Griffin how to use his hands to make a hand flute. Not easy but he was starting to get the gist of it. This morning, the children were very energized. I started playing my big didj for them and they all really got in to it. Fascinated by my vocalizing, they kept asking me to say different word in rapid succession: Daisy: say glasses, Jai: say knights, Griffin: say stick, Sabrina: say Cindarella, Griffin: say Buddha etc. Thus I spend about 30 minutes playing for the kids. Afterwards, the group energy was very mellow. The two infants fell asleep and the kids made up and played various games in a fort they built out of mattress pads in one of th rooms.

Last night, after taking care of the plethora of tasks that encomapss my time during retreats, I went down the the kiva in the barranca with 2 didjeridoos, several candles and matches. I'd already had the fire burning down there for several hours so I just needed to add fresh fuel on top of the red hot embers to build up the fire once again. The last chore before beginning to play is the lighting of the tiki torches. Just as the last one is being lit I see the first 2 spectators making their way down the steps onto the canyon floor.

I start to play, it has been a week since the last time I played. The didj of choice for this performance becomes the "Wormhole Didj". It takes around 10 or 15 minutes for my body to warm up. I mix up my continuous playlist, chanting OM, OM AH HUM, OM MANI PADME HUM, OM GATI GATI PARA GATI PARA SUMA GATI BOHDISVAHA, along with some Pink Floyd: Comfortably numb and Soundgarden's Burden In My Hand. Someone records me on their IMac's Garage Band software.

The time goes by quickly and as I play it gets easier and easier. 20 miutes later or so, I stop and am asked a few questions. Q: "Where did the didjeridoo come from?" Me: "The aborigines in Australia". Q: "How did you learn to play?" Me: "In a round about way, initailly, it was too difficult for me to circular breathe, after practicing tai chi for 6 months, I realized my breath had radically changed. This motivated me to try once again to learn how to circular breathe with the didj. The second time was the charm, within 2 weeks I could do it. The first time that I circular breathed thru the didj, I went 10 minutes without stopping." Q: "When you play does your conscousness get altered? Me: "Yes, it feels like my hemispheres are synchronized and all the wrinkles in my mind, where the miscelaneous thoughts hide, are ironed out."

Saul then takes over with some teachings that help demonstrate the power of nature and our need to be emersed in it on a regular basis to maintain mental and physical health. He explains how we need the elements in our life in order to stay balanced. Lighting candles everyday, taking a bath every day, connecting with the earth and deep breathing are all ways of staying connected to nature because this is our nature. While he speaks, his son Jai falls asleep in his arms.

Creative Commons license made easy

What is Creative Commons? Good question. I came across a great little flash video that I think you will find worthwhile.

Watch where you leave your trap

A couple days ago, while pulling tarps over the t-house roofs in the rain, my cell phone managed to get wet. It's one of those flip stylies with two L.E.D. screens. An hour later when I look at the phone to check the time, I see that it seemed to have been damaged by the water. It was tough to read and the time had frozen. Every thing still functioned normally except for the screen. I turn it off to hopefully reset, turn it on and... now it is completely blank. It still works but sadly, I do not have my 126 stored phone numbers memorized. Ughh! Make some phone calls... Sprint will charge me 50 bucks to fix it. Check sched, hmm, I won't be able to take care of it till Monday... nearest store is 40 minutes one way and this current retreat goes thru Sunday. Oh well, I will get by.

last night, while plugging the phone in to charge it, I dropped it. I think jokingly to myself: "Maybe that will fix it." I look on the small screen on the outside of the flip and sure enough, it is working... cool! It says "CHARGING" where before it said " ". I flip it open, everything is intact, time is correct, address book is there. All I can think is that they must be fixing these things with rubber mallets or something... what an easy way to make 50 bucks.

Since yesterday and thru Sunday, we have a full frigging house. I am wearing several hats at once. Making fires, watching kids, turning on lights, finding sheets and blankets. Writing it all down does not seem like much so in order to get the gist of this precipice that I walk every moment on this job, I will let you know that first of all there are over 40 adults here. Normally we have below 30. On top of that there are 6 children. 2 are less than a year old. 1 is a three year old. 2 four year olds and one six year old. On top of all this, I am house/cat sitting up in the canyon: 3 cats. At least there is a natural hot spring waiting for me. Oh yeah, I also had to orient the chefs to kichen protocal as they have never been here before. They are super cool Hare Krishinas. Their food is dialed and one of them is pretty cute.

The incident that really shook my leaves and stirred my roots today was the discovery of a raccoon locked in a have a heart trap. This one dude, Steve think, a guest here this weekend, alerted me to the poor creatures predicament. At the time, I was keeping an eye on Willie, so I had him come on down to witness the release.

When I get there, George is driving by in his vintage golden Ford pick up that must be form the forties or something, I flag him down for info and support. Anger climbs into the driver's seat of my brain but I keep it under control, well relative control. My mind runs around in circles trying to understand how some body could trap this coon and just leave it in there with no food or water for at least a day and a half. Adding to my frustration was the difficulty in getting the cage open, letting the raccoon free and not getting injured in the proccess. Maybe 10 minutes later, I direct George on what bars need bending. He succeeds in the mini super task of bending the steel bars which keep the gate from opening the way we need it to. Next, we find a 12 foot long 1x1 which I use to leverage the gate open. It take the raccoon almost a minute to realize he can leave the cage. His fur is wet and his bandit eyes dull from his experience of being trapped for maybe 48 hours. He was still wet from the storm we had on Tuesday night to Wednesday. He slowly made his way over to a tree and began to climb it. My blood only began to stop boiling after over an hour of yoga. That is when it occurred to me that no one had purposely caught the coon. The cage had been carelessly left there and the hapless raccoon had walked into it for a stay he will probably never forget.

Hat trick Thursday

The threatening clouds suddenly had a change of heart, cracked open and gave a blue sky sunny smile. Inside, I felt the same way. This passed week, various seemingly random storms flared in a couple of my relationships. Last night presented an opportunity for me to make amends with 2 friends whom I'd betrayed with unkind words and gritty energy (don't eat fig newtons on the beach, beach!). Funny, my transgression occurred over 2 months ago and soon after was when I received my notice to move off the estate. This morning I made amends with the Sun. "Sorry, I should have been more patient. I had been looking forward all day to getting a treatment like light at the end of a tuunel, when the light went out something inside me twisted." When I made the phone call it was very spontaneous and when I said those words, I did not know that they were going to come out of my mouth. When I finally said what I had to say, it was such a relief.

Tonight, I popped down to Sunny's and met several folks, all of them Burners. One guy, Brian, expressed interest in the didjeridoo. I shared with him the circular breathing technique that one can practice without the didj: "What I like to do is beak the process down to two components. First, it is like a contest between the lips and the cheeks. The cheeks try to push the air out (Just the cheeks, not the diaphram), the lips resist but they always lose, letting out a small audible stream of air thru a pinhole - almost like whistling. Secondly, while the air is slowly being compressed out by the cheeks, take a gulp of air thru the nose using the belly, then continue to let the breath fall out... repeat"

Brian seemed to get it right away. Good on ya mate! Brian escaped the East Coast over three months ago. Took what ever he could fit on his back and hitchhiked out of there. Ended up in Vegas, tracked down the International Burners Hostel and thus made his way to the ultimate portal: Burninging man. He's one of the few peops I met that can say they literally lived at Black Rock City, Nevada. Back in 1999, I lived there as well, out of my Pulsar, I had my snowboard and surfboard with me. One of the finest places I have ever lived.

The third person I made amends with today was Dana. She'd made some ridiculous accusations against me the last time I saw her over a year ago. When she saw me, she instantly recognized me and apologized. Even now the memories of that time feel fresh. The wound was buried but never healed. Festering in the dark. Cortex tissue turning off. Going numb. Facial muscles solidifying into a grin like the Joker - How do you like me now?

Now, I conclude a day that began at 9AM. I will head up into the canyon to feed some cats and maybe soak in a hot spring,

Charlie Sheen gets fired from Rainbow Bridge

My friend Charlie Sheen got fired from Rainbow Bridge today. Earnest did the firing. He told him to leave right then and there without even finishing his shift - although he was paid for it. The turnover rate is pretty high at this corporate minded health food store. I've seen many folks come and go. A lot of them quit because it is pure slave wage - others get fired e.g. for giving someone free tea. Then, there's the story of a manager who was fired because he did not always honor the policy of calling the police on banned customers. About 3 years or so ago, a certain friend of mine, with (at least I'll admit) several psychotic tendencies was banned for life. So, this one manager, fell prey to her wily manipulations and let her in the store one too many times - BAM! You’re out of here! Get out of my face! Thus, when I overheard one of the deli girls asking if he (Charlie) had been fired, my drama radar immediately was triggered. I waved him over; he looked at me, held my gaze and signaled for me to wait my holding up one finger.

A few minutes later, Charlie comes over and tells me his story. This is kind of a Bardo Surfer exclusive and it's all free... what's the catch? I don't know... yet!

BS: "What happened why'd you get fired?"

Charlie: "It wasn't any one incident, just a bunch of things adding up."

BS: "Did they get stuff on the surveillance cameras?"

Charlie: Smiles riley, "Yeah."

BS: "Did they bring you up there to watch it?"

Charlie: Smiles, "No, just told me to leave and that I'd get paid for the full day."

BS: "No severance pay?"

Charlie: "No, that's it. Yeah, I have another part time gig but it's not enough... I have two tests tomorrow and so after I take them I'll be able to think about it. Ojai's always been real good to me, anytime I'm stuck and need some money it comes thru so I'm not worried."

BS: "I'm really gonna miss having you and Ray Iota working together."

Charlie: "Yeah, that was part of it, we were having too much fun, things would get a little crazy when we were working together."

So many people go thru that food store. After seven years it starts to get hard to keep track of them all. I don't know, but I feel their needs to be some kind of ceremony when people get fired from Rainbow Bridge. How about they have to walk the plank? If they quit then they get a 1-minute shopping spree in the dark or something.

Daily show link of the day

Fareed Zakaria seems to have anticipated France's meltdown although he only refers to Europe. This is what he had to say all the way back on July 22, 2005.

One woman lynch mob

I know a one woman lynch mob
pretending to be the town heart throb
super sonic siren power
Venus Flytrap is not a flower

Johnny Livingston fly in the sky
just a spec in God's eye
teleport away from here
choosing love over fear

Daily Show link of the Day

This particular clip was aired August 12, 2005. [Somewhere on my blog (BS), you may find my concept of: "Save the Flies". Picture flys stuck on oil field fly paper.] This clip harmonizes nicely with that post. Without further ado, here it is!

Spontaneous trip

[Big Island (Hawaii) Monday October 14, 2002]

Awoke with a heavy feeling although pleased that the time was 7:45 AM. Thru out my exercises, thoughts wander across old pathways of blame. I keep feeling that my life's a waste and I am not accomplishing anything. Tai chi felt nice and I enjoyed experiencing and moving my chi at will. But I wonder, is this enough? I eat 2 bananas and recall my dream which involved Trillium massaging the lines on my tired face. I guess I've become a bit enthralled by her beauty and enticing eyes. Marvelously exotic clear eyes. We are interupted by her angry tribe/family. I realize after this dream that I cannot get involved. I don't want the responsibility of a 2 year old girl and a young mother. I just am not prepared. I walk into town. Stick my head into Papa's - Dean has returned but he's busy with customers. I continue to the health food store. I think: "I really don't want anything but something is waiting for me there." I'm on a mission. Before I turn down the parking lot, I hear someone speak my name, look and see robert in the back of Manu's maroon pick-up truck. He's surrounded by garbage bag encased belongings and a wheel chair.

He says: "Do you want to go to Kona? Hop in."

I respond quickly in the affirmative, check with Manu who's sitting in the driver's seat. He's distracted but signals OK with a nonchalant nod to jump in. I climb in and Robert and I begin to update eachother with our latest happenings.

Manu calls out to a passing motorist/friend: "I need a jump." The driver responds immediately.

Soon enough, we're cruising towards Hilo. Manu is giving a ride to Phil. He's going to a medical facility in Kona. He broke his back 3 years ago when he fell of a roof that he was working on in Oregon.

As we drive along, I notice the smell of urine. Phil's suffering from a number of ailments. The temperature drops the higher we drive up Saddle Road. The landscape changes gradually and dramatically. We drive on and on. It takes 2 and a half hours to get to Kona. Alot of the view is rugged sharp and black volcanic rock. Further along we reach areas where green plants have painted the landscape with vibrant life. We pass pregnant mounds under countless ever changing clouds. I feel like I an in Colorado at times. This island has some size to it.

We arrive in Kona, Manu says: "Meet me back here in 2 hours." I check my clock - 1:15 PM.

The town of Kona has advertising everywhere. We've landed here in the midst of "Iron Man Week". The event takes place on Saturday.

Robert and I eat at an Indonesian cafe. My meal is fabulous. We walk around some more and end up on the edge of the ocean. I sit on a wall and play the didj and watch a surfer enjoy a wave all my him self. He gets several rides while I watch. Robert watches as well. He takes a dip a man made area that holds the water a bit longer.

Time's up and we head back to the medical center. Phil's waiting with all his stuff in black garbage bags strewn across the lawn under a tree. He talks like a bird fluttering from leaf to leaf and branch to branch. He hovers above his despondency and talks to Robert as I play the didj. People walk by, drive by. They all ignore the didj.

Phil shows me a clipping of an article he wrote about leaving Breitenbush in Oregon. He'd been on the board of directors and had been a clever diplomat. He came here to invest his time into Hawaii. A good soul, good intentions. Who can ever anticipate tragedy? He still has hope and spoke of various possibilities.

The ride back was a little more chilly. Manu avoided Saddle Road's altitude and we cruised the less direct route. Stopped at Waepoa Lookout and were treated to one of the finest views I've ever seen. The rest of the way we cruised mostly in silence watching the relatively still stars above and the low wispy clouds quickly passing.

The surfing brotherhood lives!

Once again, another yoga retreat concludes. I ask several retreatants: "Did you have a good time?" They all responded affirmatively and surprisingly in the same way which was: their eyes would kind of glaze over like they were looking inward, they'd pause and then with true feeling they say something like:

"yeahh, I really feeel good." Then they'd bring me into focus and say: "Thanks for asking."

While outside the house conversing and taking bizzare photos of the last three participants, I mention offhandedly my difficulty at times of assimulating sugar.

Harry responds immediatley: "That means your not getting enough physical affection."

Inside I'm like: "Bullseye." Outside I respond: "Hmmm... really... yeah come to think of it I can't remember the last time I have been touched. [Of course it completely slips my mind that I just rec'd a treatment from a certain ex who I will not name. Actually the treament was not very affectionate and more brutal than anything... but that is antother story for another time my friends.] I can't see it happening, I accept that there just does not seem to be any women interested."

Harry: "Whooe... you need to have a more positive mantra... do you see what your creating?"

"Hey, I know where you're coming from... I just feel like I am making an observation after several years of basically being alone... I mean, I'm just accepting it, you know?"

Harry: "You need to open up your self up to the possibility... your mantra is 'I allow it.' "

"OK, I'll give it a shot."

Harry: "I'm a shaman so don't fuck with me."

We both laugh and then I take some more photos of Adam and Harry with Millie sitting on their laps, legs spread suggestively and Adam cupping her breasts.

And then I am free to head down to the Point and surf. I only have to wait about 60 seconds for a parking spot to open up. I pull on my wet wetsuit, wet rash guard and wet booties. The paddle out is cake. Conditions are almost glassy and slow clean waves that take forever to break. It takes me 10 minutes or so to get the vibration into my heart and head and then I catch a decent wave that gives me a 100m+ ride. This day turns in to a special one when we start suppoting eachother, rooting for eachother to catch waves and then hooting as one of us zips on by. At one point, I caught 3 beuts less than 10 minutes apart. Then I catch another one right away. This one surfer on a green board dropped in but I did not mind. He'd been struggling... but when he saw me he quickly turned and got off the wave. I kind of felt bad because I'd had so many. 5 minutes later a big wave comes thru and he's in good position. I yell encouragements as he catches it and stands up. It's a great wave and he takes if 150 yards away. Another surfer and I are both stoked that he finally got a good one. I end up finishing with over 10 waves today most of them were very sweet with head high drops and waste high for most of the trip. What I remember most is the looks we shared with eachother, gazes that spoke a million words worth of exhileration. Even now they resonate.

My first stop when I arrived back in Ojai was Farmer and the Cook. Nothing like an organic salad with an avacado after a great surf sesh. As the sun set I drove up to the hot spring and soaked for almost an hour in a small pool for one. Stinking of sulfur, I walked down the road, back to the Skip mobile.

Then, I arrive at my latest house/pet sit, Mark's cool little pad. Feed his two exotic cats and then soak in his tub, affectionately rubbing soap into my skin to minimize the smell of sulfur.

Not so friendly wake up call, invigorating surf sesh

Cell phone wakes me. "Ola."

Sunny: "Where's my flashlight, didn't you leave it?"

"Uh, I'll be there in a minute, what time is it?"

"9:20... you sound like shi-"

That's when I hang up on the beach. Actually, though, I'm happy to get up at this time. Wheels start turning. Hmm... I wonder if there could be a market for alarm clocks that wake you up with expletives. It could say things like: "Wake up you wanker." or "Get out of bed you shit." or "What's wrong with you? Don't you know what time it is?" or "Get up and start your day, loser" or "The whole town hates you." It could be a gag gift kind of thing.

Anyway, I slip on some clothes, drive down the hill and pull in front of the house Sunny lives in. Get out of car. Cat greets me. Meows a quest for food, so I feed it. I put the flashlight on the door mat, ring the doorbell and get out of there before she answers - I've already had my allotted expletive from her over the phone. No need to wait for the swarm of bees to show up.

Back up on the estate, turn off some lights, dump some compost, stock some TP. All looks well. Then it's time for some serious business: I need to check the temperature of the jacuzzi. Ooo... it feels pretty good but there is only one way to really know - I soak in it for 30 minutes or so. Yep, jacuzzi is working fine. Then I move on to yoga and tai chi.

Afterwards, I hop on the internet and check the Point's cam. Hmm... looks pretty good. 35 minutes later I am in a surf shop in Ventura buying O'neal booties. Then I'm paddling out. Waves look fun, not too crowded. It's a bit rough but the interval between sets is only around 5 minutes. There's also the occasional shoulder high wave to mix things up. Rather quickly, I catch a five foot wave that gives me a fun 100 yard ride. After that ride, I paddle for a while to get back to my previous position. Booties fit nice and I am statisfied with their performance. I stay out there for around an hour and finally catch my eight wave and ride it into the shore.

John Stewart link of the day

John Stewart's Rove leak recap is not to be missed. He's fast becoming my only source of news.

Subway view

If you are a terrorist, don't get any ideas.

Grief until dreamtime

Angus wakes me up around eight so he can go out and take care of business. He does not like to be late. Only uses the kitty litter as a last resort. I am the same way. Finally manage to drag myself out of my Big Agnes cocoon of a sleeping bag. Drive up to the estate. Begin the last preparations for the retreat. Once everything is done I take off to Farmer and Cook for my lunch break. When my mood is sour, it does not take a trained psychologist to know it. There's a ton of people there even though it is after two. I sit with a couple girls I know. One of them tries to console me and play counselor. She's sincere and all that but her words of advice seem trite to me. I go along as to not spread my dis ease and accept her position with out voicing my cynical responses. It's funny I guess, but sometimes when you're in a foul mood, people that are all happy just make you feel worse. I think it's the contrast or something. She brought up the "What the Bleep" movie and said: "Remember when you have negative thoughts you keep spreading them and they inluence where you go and what happens next and it just keeps going." I totally know all this and kind of resent the whole spontaneous therapy session/pity party. Honestly, I'd have just sat alone if there'd been any emty tables. Ohh well, eat fast, take off, get on with it.

Melissa says"Just breathe... oh yeah you know how to breathe."

Lisa: "Yeah, you play the didj, you're an expert."

I say nothing, just keep eating with my head down. I guess my body language must be pretty pathetic or something. When I say goodbye, Lisa gives me a strong hug: "I love you Didj, your and amazing person."

"I wish that was true. I love you too... see you later Melissa"

Finally I finish and take off in the Skip mobile. As I head up Foothill Rd, I scan my face for frowns, yep there's one there, plastered on my face. I consciously try to smile, thinking: "All these folks are arriving, gotta look happy." It works for a few seconds but soon I slip back into the pathetic mask of doom. Sorry every body.

So, I just stay in my car reading Gabriel Marquez's Strange Pilgrims, a book of short stories. I love the way he writes, the way the words flow, the way he describes people, places and things. His metaphors are always surprising and poigniant. I watch as everyone start pulling down the gravel driveway and parking. It's always the same they drive down, make a left, pause, look around, see what the other cars are doing and then park. I only had to say something to one or two drivers. This allowed me to read 3 stories, cool.

As dusk approaches, it becomes time for me to start turning on lights and checking on fires burning in the house. Turts out they want to use the kiva down below. This means I have to fill up 4 or 5 tiki torches, gather a bunch of wood, grab candles, repair some damage in the kiva and sweep it up so that it is presentable.

I rush thru this so that I can make it to my appointment with Sunny. She's supposed to give me a treatment for my TMJ - which by the way, seems to have receded completely. Well, her "moon" has hung around longer than expected. So instead of getting some relief, she gives me grief. Rehashing a bunch of delusions from the past. I walk out the door while she continues to go on the attack. Too bad it is so hard for some people to just say sorry. I guess it is just too easy to go on the attack. In the end I just feel compassion for this glaring weakness. It leads to so much unnecessary suffering. My solution is to just stay away. It was so absurd that it was funny and I found myself laughing because, Lisa's earlier references to "What the Bleep" proved to be foreshadowing. I had not seen this vicious side of Sunny for so long but it is still there - much less psychotic though. Looking back I could see it all leading up to this. Hindsight is twenty twenty..

Back up on the estate. Ahhh... feels good to be back up here. Dinner's just about ready. Caspar's good mood seems to seep into me a little bit and he makes me laugh. He's from Holland. Maybe that's why it is easier for me to feel connected to him. Europeans seem to have an easier time accepting people. They don't feel compelled to make a judgement on some one else's mood. They see it accept it and contiue. There's no stigmatising this way. The feeling is able to take its natural course and then move on... change into something else.

Tom asks me to play in the kiva. I agree. Bill mentions that Tom wants me to play the didj in the kiva. I agree. Earlier, it did not seem likely that I'd play. "Yeah, who wants to here me play? These guys could care less." Then when Tom asks me, I'm like sure, what the heck.

I head down there around 8:20. Stoke the fire, add some wood, start playing. Time passes. Phone rings. This number comes up on my screen: 571-522-1180. I answer. It's a computer asking me if I am a registered voter. Hang up immediateley. Huh? what the heck?! Am I gonna start getting that bs on my cell phone? Heads are gonna roll if this becomes more common. Play some more and then Sunny calls. What do you think she wants to give me? Relief or grief? If you said grief than you get the cigar. She slings some more mud and then hangs up while my reply is in mid sentence. Audiose.

I play some more and then just when I'm about to vamoose, I see flashlights shining on the stone wall and hear voices of city folk making their way along the path. I start playing while the kiva fills up with LA yogis. They talk excitedly, laugh loudly and almost drown out the music coming out of my didj. While playing, I think that no one is listening. I keep on playing anyway. It seems like 3 or 4 people are enjoying it. After 15 minutes I stop and talk with a few of the guest. Someone asks me to start playing again. I think it was Caspar. He comes over and sits next to me. He's beaming and his positive energy is contagious. He's so genuine and good hearted. I play for another 15 minutes, stop, start talking to someone. Then this guy Adam asks me to play some more. "Wow," I think to myself, "I thought no one gave a shit." So I play for another 20 minutes before stopping for the night. Afterwards, I soak in the collective vibe. It seems totally changed. It's like everyone is on a different frequecy now. I have become visible to them. Hmm... I guess that's what happens when I create a little dreamtime for people to jump into. Interestingly enough, it is I who really feels different. The black cloud hanging over my psyche, burned away by the didj... cool.

Special tasks, lessons and reverse treatments

Started this day late because of not going to sleep until late. No time for anything except tai chi. Retreat coming up must prepare estate. Never know what tasks will be presented by Bill. While standing outside the office, cleaning the pond, cell phone rings, it's Bill.

"Are you in the basement?"

Bill: "No, I'm in the office."

"Yeah, that's what I meant, I'm standing right outside it."

"Oh, you're already here?!"

End transmission, walk in office. "How's it going?" I ask Bill.

Linda's in there too. Bill gives us some of the details about the upcoming retreat: "It's gonna be wild, they'll be drinking and Tom's a sharp looking guy who's single. You guys are gonna have to keep them under control."

Then Bill gives me some special tasks to take care of: repare cottage bed, take mattress from porch and put in cottage, take futon from cattage and put in yurt, clean plastic windows on sleeping porch and repair the Vista Yurt from damage sustained from big storm last week. The rest of the day is spent on normal preparation.

Thru out the day, the back of my head held the pressure from TMJ's lingering remnants. At times I could feel my dark mood like a cloud of smoke from fossil fuel burning - creating twilight on what would have been a bright sunny day. The end of the day comes as the horizon catches the sun. When I get to Farmer and the Cook, I realize that this is my first meal... hmm... need to eat sooner than 5 PM... maybe my blood sugar was off or something.

Tai chi lesson tonight went well. I am enjoying teaching the form once again. It seems to give me insight that is otherwise unattainable.

Next, I head over to Sunny's for a treatment. She supposed to give me some cranial work along with massage therapy which helps reduce the effects of TMJ. This is in trade for watching the dogs last week end. Turns out her moon is rising and so I end up giving her the 3 hour foot massage to help her feel better. Oh well, hopefully I'll get the treatment tomorrow...

When I get back to Rachie's to hang with Angus, I manage to lock the door with my key in the ignition. I try for a while to get in using a wire that not stiff enough, finally call Sunny for a wire hanger because Rachie does not have any wire hangers! Too much "Mommy Dearest" viewings,I guess. Turns out Sunny has a wire hanger, so I: borrow Rachel's bike, grab hanger at Sunny's and a flashlight too, manage to get in the vehicle within 30 seconds, I won't tell you how though.

Time to go to bed, sheesh!

Sunset didj and Manu Manu welcomes me to Hawaii

[Hawaii's Big Island Saturday October 12, 2002]

The dogs just stopped barking. I sit in a shack over looking the Pacific Ocean. Robert is my host. His tent stands 30 yards away. The rain is drumming on the roof and Robert speaks on the phone. We have been exchanging experiences that we've had with kundalini rising.

Today, I picked up the post card I sent to myself in order to get a library card. Earlier, I'd sat at the health food store and rapped with James and some older brothers. We talked about the deceptive political climate and eventually they began to talk about the legalization of herb. I kind of sighed silently in my mind. The Big Island's a Mary Jane Mecca. The herb has swallowed the will power of so many.

My falling from the railing shocked me. I always feel so confident climbing. The dirt form the planter scattered all over Papa's green painted floor. Trillium, a beautiful young woman from Oregon, was next to me and expressed concern. Aubrey had thrown up the gate with gusto and consequently it jammed. I'd climbed up on the railing to free what was catching. Before I knew it, I'd fallen and banged my nose. The trauma only release a few pin pricks of blood. Almost a ceremonial impact.

Robert swung back from another store and he followed me back to my humble abode - the shack. The mosquitoes proved to be quite active - not surprising with dusk's arrival. Soon we left, canceling their feast for the evening.

5 minutes with our thumbs out and a big garrulous guy in a station wagon picked us up. He'd been on the island a year. An eighty-year-old couple had told him that he could live on their land. We got out at Kahenna to experience sun's setting on the beach.

As I walked along, a German woman asked if I was going to play the didj that I happened to be carrying. She was with several people, I looked at them all and asked: "Do you want me to play the didj for you?" She said yes and I complied. The woman and I ended up conversing for a while after I played. Her name is Seena. She was wearing a black nightie and when she stood I appreciated her voluptuous form. She invited me to the volcano but I had to decline. I felt I needed to meet Robert's sponsor: Manu Manu.

Before we left the beach, we hung out with a brother who was planning on camping on the beach. He had a guitar but no tent or tarp. He told us how he has collected seeds and turned them into necklaces while living on the beaches of Kauai. We left and began to walk up the hill to where Robert was camping on Manu Manu's land.

After we arrived, I turned around, rain clouds could be seen rolling in from over the ocean. His view: utterly spectacular. Soon, the raindrops began to gently fall and Robert decided it'd be nice to hang out in Manu Manu's shack. When I entered, Robert had several candles lit. Manu has no electricity. Robert shared stories about Kauai, experiences with kundalini, channeling and healers. I told a few of mine and then played the didj in the flickering candlelight while Robert closed his eyes and meditated.

Shortly, Manu Manu arrived and immediately hugged me and welcomed me to the land of his ancestors. I played the didj for 5 to 10 minutes. Manu seemed quite charged up and began to talk. It was an autobiographical, shamanic sermon that lasted for over and hour. Robert and I then made our way to the tent. The rain had stopped. I slept fairly soundly and had many dreams. One of Sunny.

-I'd left my vehicle behind and was running down a street. I ran a mile or so and ended up in a kind of library. It was nighttime. I look in a mirror and my face is very ugly. I have a huge growth on my right jaw and lower cheek. My face is unrecognizable.

The Juggler

The juggler, surrounded by a confused mob of people
makes a grand attempt at juggling.
His start has been delayed
there seem to only be 2
juggling objects available
one is a 19 inch RCA television set from 1989
the other is a 1923 buffalo nickel.
He seems to be scanning the crowd
in an intensely focussed manner.
You notice a light breeze
because your forehead has become damp
with trepidation. You unconsciously shrink back
from his roving eyes
but they stop on you.
Draw you to him.
Abruptly, you feel your stomach twist within itself
as you flip thru the air
And the roar of the audience reverberates
sets your inner ear abuzz.
The scene becomes unrecognizable from your pesrspective.
Please take my word for it.
There are no fools in this crowd
to save you.
Your head becomes light as a feather
no up no down
and everything goes dim
before it goes black.
When you open your eyes
you find yourself alone
in a 10 foot by 10 foot room
with white padded walls
you check the door
but it is still locked.