Christnas break 2009/2010

Christmas break, 2009/2010
December 14—January 6, 2009/2010
12.17.09
Tucson
At 5 AM, I sit in the warmth of the house, in silence, looking out into the pitch-blackness of the desert until Jennifer gets up and grinds fresh beans and makes coffee. We run out into the cold morning and get heavy whipping cream and the desert world is wonderful and fresh. Back home we sit and talk and talk and talk about life and watch the purple sunrise come over the mountains and the sun ignite the orange trees until the world is alive and vibrating with this amazing thing called light. Light that is rich and multi-hued and delicious like cold water from a mountain stream. Now the road and the waves call. God bless the road, God bless the waves, God bless friends and freedom! To my friends, salute!

12.18.09
Deliciously Refreshing
I drove hard from Tucson on two strong cups of coffee for six hours across the beautiful desert. Cresting a final mountain range, I caught my first glimpse of the ocean glinting misty silver on the horizon far below. My first close-up view of the waves was on Hwy 101 at Cardiff Reef, just as the Ramones' "I Wanna Live" came on. The song was so amazing and timed so well with my first view of the waves that I overflowed with uncontainable happiness and exuberance. The waves were going off!

Turning right at the Patagonia store on the corner, I drove up a couple blocks and parked the Mothership in front of Adam's house. He had all the sandwich fixins' already laid out for me to make a fatty sandwich before hitting the waves after my long drive. Vanessa arrived, and we suited up, waxed our boards, and walked down to Cardiff Reef, laughing, talking, and happy.

The waves were overhead and beautiful. We paddled out together and I got my first taste of ocean in 18 weeks, salty, alive. The waves were big, cold, fast and delicious. My first wave was just thunder-striking for me. Taking the plunge, making the drop, and then blasting off like being fired out of a canon. That old familiar feeling of zero-gravity, as the board drops and skips, getting the high speed clatters as it jets along a big fast wave. The waves were dynamite. It was almost unreal to suddenly be transported from that Texas world to this surfing world.

The sun set, a red gash slicing the horizon above the waves. The sky slowly faded from red to black. I caught my last wave in the gloaming and rode to shore and stood on the beach feeling like I was in a movie. A really good movie. I watched the ocean and felt absolute elation, letting it settle in to my consciousness that I was back home, I was really here. I ran up and down the beach with joy.

Back home, we hit "play" on the surf movie that is perpetually waiting to be watched on the flat screen, stripped out of our wetsuits, threw on jeans, tee shirts and pullovers, and walked down the hill to Beach City cafe for fish tacos and chips, sitting outside beside the ocean, watching the surfing film on the big screen in the cafe, eating, laughing and talking. We celebrated life, our camaraderie, the waves, and being back home and I felt like I was in my heaven, my home, my waves, my friends, all that I love.

We topped it off by walking next door to VG donuts and the girl behind the counter handed me a chocolate glazed old-fashion, smiled, and said, "no charge". So good to be home. We finished off the session back at home watching "Sipping Jetstreams," a beautiful surf film.

I'll let Joey Ramone sum up the essence of how I felt in that magic moment coming home to California: "I'm a gypsy prince...I give what I got to give, I give what I need to live, I give what I got to give, it's important if I want to live ...and I want to live, I want to live my life, I want to give, I want to live my life."


12.19.09
On top of the world
I woke up at 4:30 AM and every part of my body that could possibly be sore was sore from the last two days of surfing big waves. But I felt completely happy, relaxed, content and good. I laid listening to the waves and the train rumble by on the tracks. I slept like a stone the last two nights; better than I have in the last five months.

I slipped on my hoody and jeans and warm wool socks and walked over to VG donuts for a coffee and a chocolate glazed donut and sat outside listening to the waves and feeling good. I had one old fashioned chocolate for the road and then took my coffee and crossed the tracks and jumped the fence into Cardiff State Beach campground and stood on the cliffs drinking my coffee and waiting for light to come to see the waves. It came, I saw them, I watched them for an hour, just relaxing and anticipating.

Coming home to suit up, on a whim, I unfolded my bike and road ten miles up the coast to Torrey Pines State Reserve and there high on the cliffs, on top of the world, I could see the mountain range I had driven over to come down to the coast out of the desert. I could see waves breaking down the entire coast. I felt good.

Back home, I grilled some chicken, made a spinach salad, put on "Sipping Jetstreams" the great surf film, and hung out with Fernando, the gold fish. And now it's time, once again, to suit up, paddle out and ride waves. Because life is too good not to.
Sent from my iPhone
12.20.09
The daily routine (plus bonus features)
At 4:30 AM the sound of waves woke me up out of a deep, healing sleep. I could tell by the way the sounds were echoing off the walls that the swell had gotten even bigger, which was surprising since it was already big. No VG donuts and coffee for me this morning; this is time to focus.

Straight into my morning yoga purifications, then onto the mat for asana, pranayama and meditation. After I came out of that yoga trance and felt the energy channeling through my body, I turned on Sipping Jetstreams and started watching Kelly Slater riding double overhead heavy barrels. I sautéed onion, garlic, green pepper, tomato and fresh spinach, and then whipped two eggs with milk and folded them in for a fluffy scramble with a piece of toast and strawberry preserves. I kept watching Kelly while I ate, and waxed my board and suited up. The last thing I did was turn off Kelly and step out the door into the just-breaking day. My theory with watching Kelly Slater before I surf is that if he can drop in and ride heavy barrels over shallow reef then there is nothing out there this morning, no matter how big, that I can't huck myself over the edge of and come up smiling.

My HQ is right on the corner of Chesterfield, and stepping out onto the street I can look straight down the hill to the ocean, and what met my eyes this morning from the top of the hill, were pure lines of peeling waves, and I knew it was going to be good, very good. I felt such a joy and happiness walking down that street, in this little beach community, like I belonged here. At the bottom of Chesterfield, on the corner is the Patagonia surf store, and somehow it felt right and good that it was there, it belonged too. After all, my wetsuit, the best one I have ever owned, is courtesy of Patagonia.

On the cliffs, I stood watching the waves, beautiful, big, peeling, perfect. I paddled out into the little clique of surfers at the peak of a break that looked good to me and proceeded to catch waves. Every time a wave came in I just asked myself, "What would Kelly Slater do?" He'd paddle, drop and ride by God and so did I. It was so good. So goddam good. There is nothing in the world, nothing, like surfing a head high or overhead wave that is peeling. No joy compares, nothing compares. A pod of dolphins came gliding along in front of me, (I forgot how big they are), and cruised on by. It was wonderful to see them again. It's been too long.

Eventually I got hungrier for food than I was for waves and decided to come home and fuel up and then head back out. Stepping into the house, I turned on Kelly Slater, jumped in a hot shower and stripped off my suit, God, that hot water feels so good on my ocean-cold skin. Then a healthy little surf snack: a big slice of onion, sautéed in olive oil in a skillet, when it's done break one egg in the skillet, meanwhile, thinly slice grilled chicken breast (grilled last night outside) and place that around the edge of the skillet to heat. Toast two slices of bread and spread with mustard and mayo, then add a thick slice of tomato, top with the hot fried egg and onion and the chicken breast, and sliced avocado. Eat that! Now, friends it's time to go right back out and huck myself over everything that comes my way. Because surfs up! And there is nothing else.

--
WWKSD (What would Kelly Slater do?)

12.22.09
A Perfect Storm
Last night I did not make the yoga workshop for the solstice at 8 PM, because after eating some soup and watching the sunset at Beacons it got too dark too fast to go surf (and I was sore all over and tired and the last time I surfed Beacons I had to get knee surgery). I was feeling a little lost and uprooted; I didn’t want to go back to Michael’s place, I didn’t like being there. And I didn’t know where to go. Out of habit or instinct I drove back to Cardiff and although I was feeling really tired as soon as I got back to Cardiff I felt ‘back home’. I felt like I belonged here and I had a spacious, good feeling, not the boxed in, closed in feeling I had at Michael’s. I went into the campground hoping to bump into Crede with the idea of sharing his site and camping in the campground. I didn’t find him but it was nice to be strolling in the campground, the smell of woodfires, and of grilling meat, the Christmas lights people had put up on their sites, the humanity of it all. I enjoyed it. Then I walked down to the beach and walked north along the beach all the way back to the first stairs of the park. As I walked I thought about Brianna and what it would be like if we were walking together, since we did so much of walking down beaches together. We would have been talking about our dreams, and we would have certainly made love in the darkness right on those flat rocks and it would have been amazing. I have not kissed a girl or loved a girl since Brianna and I doubt if I will again. I walked up the steps into the campground and back to my van. I read in the back with all the windows open to let in a breeze and then I fell asleep. I woke at night and drove up and parked in front of Kara and Adam’s place and fell asleep like a rock.

I awoke to the sound of rain, around 4:30 I guess, and gradually woke up. At five am I drove here, to the end of Chesterfield and parked in front of the campground, thinking I’d wait for the gate to open and go surf. But now a real storm has whipped up and it’s wonderful, the wind is whipping, rain falling, it’s cold out there and wonderful in here, thank you Mothership. I am going to relax in here and try and do yoga if I can, read, make breakfast. I wish the board was on the roof so I had more room, or I wish I surfed a shorter board, and now I have to use the bathroom and I wish the gate was open. ;-) Looks like it might be time for a morning constitutional to the other gate.

It is much easier in life to have a space, a place with space that is your own where I can have my routine. My morning yoga, etc. just my place, even my cabana in Baja worked, served the purpose of being my space. It just needs to be a place where I can have my regular habits take place, like morning yoga, meditation, purifications etc, all of that. And this van isn’t quite the place, not enough room, can’t stand up and the surf board blocks everything.

Part 2:
While it was still dark outside nature called and not wanting to deal with the hassle of the porta-potty or jump the fence to the campground, I walked down to the entrance and went in to the bathrooms. I said god bless the state park system for providing me with a free clean bathroom when I need one early in the morning. I had on my nice new Patagonia rain jacket and I walked down the beach again like I did last night, looking at the stormy sea and getting my hair blown in my face and eyes. I felt happy. And happy to be on my own. I walked up the north end stairs and met someone from Oregon and we talked about Oregon and Baja. The whole time I watched people’s tents being blown away and the storm got wild and wooly I was thinking how happy I was that I was going home to my mothership. Which is where I am now. I can write, I can make oatmeal, read, whatever I want to do. I could even walk over for VG donuts and coffee if I wanted to. I am floating in space.

12.24.05
Awake
I had no idea today was Christmas Eve until just this second. I woke up and came up to the apartment to get ready to surf, only to find it was 2:30 AM, early even by my standards. So I did my yoga purifications, took a shower, (for the first time in three days) put on a brand new bathrobe that Adam gave me and am about to do a bong hit and do yoga. It is cold outside, but the apartment is warm and nice. Last night I cleaned everything, vacuumed, straightened and organized the entire place and made it ‘mine’ for the next six days. ;-) So here we go. Boom boom yoga time.

12.24.09
While the rest of the world sleeps, a yogi is awake…
From 2:30 to 5:00 AM I do my yoga purifications, asana practice, pranayama and meditation to the light of a flickering candle while the sound of waves echo around me like a surround-sound stereo. Hearing the waves in the darkness, I feel the anticipation. Outside the temperature is very cold and inside this apartment it is warm and cozy, like a nest. In another hour it will be light enough to walk to the beach and paddle out and surf. I am in my satori here alone in my apartment by the beach, with eight surfboards, a yoga mat, meditation cushion, bike and guitar, sleeping on the floor on a sheepskin. Surfer's paradise. Avanti!

12242009
A good day
Flat on my back on the living room floor just as darkness falls. I got up at 2:30 and did yoga until 5, then made breakfast and headed down for a couple hours of surfing, and it was beautiful. Then more breakfast and to VGs. They were out of donuts. Out. Disappointment. So I rode into Encinitas to the thrift stores but I had no way to lock my bike, so I rode to the bike shop. It was closed. Back to the other bike shop. No U locks. So on whim I rode to REI, quite the haul. And there I bought a lock, and an eyeshade for massage, a plate I needed for the mothership. And I found out I can get the Yakima racks for the mothership really cheap. Hmm. And the bike shop there tuned my bike for me for free while I was shopping. ;-)
Then, on a whim, because there were no donuts at VGs , I rode to Trader Joes and bought eggnog and panatoni. From there I hauled back but stopped off at Channin’s glass shop and hung out with Tracy and talked about the board. Then back to the thrift shop where it all started hours ago, scored a pair of jeans, and then at last, home. And here I am on my living room floor. Tired and happy.

12.25.09
Sunrise surf with dolphins
I slept in until 4:30 AM, and being a creature who both needs and recoils at habit, I spontaneously decided after my purifications to brew the last of my green summit green tea and celebrate Christmas morning with some fine tea on the balcony in the cold and wonderfully fresh ocean air. On another impulse I walked down to the beach in the pre-dawn pale and the waves were beautiful. Running happily home I suited up quickly and walked back breathing out clouds of frost. It was cold. I paddled out just at sunrise and had a break to myself. No one out on Christmas morning that early. Chest to shoulder with overhead sets. The sunlight felt divine, the water was clear. A pod of dolphins came down the line and lingered with me, some of them jumping all the way out of the water, and when I caught the next wave four dolphins were surfing with me. It happened yesterday also. Christmas morning surfing with dolphins.

Now, I am sitting naked in the warm sunlight streaming onto the carpet through the window after a hot shower, feeling as good as any human being could feel.

Merry Christmas.

12.28.09
Yesterday
Yesterday was a little bit odd. Rebecca had come the day before and stayed very late, and we’d had an intense night, then Tasha called until very late> I slept at 2 AM and woke up tired and sore. On a whim I bought VGs and went to Carlsbad campground to meet Barry and Kelly, stayed there until noon watching huge surf, then went to Michael’s house and got a deep massage from Terra, then gave her a tantric massage. I got home after dark, wasted and played guitar, hung out with Vanessa and crashed.
This morning, up at 3:30AM for purifications, yoga, tea and my new day.

12.29.09
yoga is…
At 3:18 AM, to the light of a flickering candle I go on my beautiful, deep yoga journey. Asana, purifications, pranayama, meditation, pu-ehr tea, darkness, all weave together. Yoga will teach you everything you need to know about yoga, and about your body and yourself. Yoga is a process of opening, letting go, going deep inside and becoming one with yourself in the moment. And in that moment of becoming one with yourself yoga will teach you everything you need to know about everything you are. The teacher is the act of being one with yourself and true yoga takes you there. This practice is magic, it is a dance in darkness, while the rest of the world sleeps. A dance into the fields of your own being. And dancing that fertile ground you know it underfoot. And you know you as deep as you know your own breath. Practicing yoga in darkness makes it easier to see the inner flame burning in the root chakra and to pull it up to the heart and feel the entire body lift and rise and lengthen as the flame moves up the spine, through the core of your being into the heart.

If you move into each asana without a preconceived idea about what it is and simply listen to each nuance of your body, then you discover each posture in its perfect relationship to your body in that exact instant-by-instant opening. The real magic is in the simplicity of listening to the sensations in your body, dissolving into them and letting the sensations guide you into the unfolding, the opening, the journey, of each posture. When you dissolve your breath into the sensations in your body, yoga teaches you all about you, and you cannot injure yourself, and you go much deeper, because you are melting into you, dissolving into sensation and discovering each moment of opening.

There is a reason the traditional time for doing spiritual practice is around 3:30 AM--the world is asleep and dark, there is nothing to distract you from your practice and in the soft cocoon of darkness it is easy to follow the flame of shakti deep into your body, your core, your self. If your practice of yoga does not cultivate a feeling of deep, satisfying, overflowing gratitude that rises up naturally like a song from your heart for all beings, for everyone who has ever shown you compassion and for all beings, then you might want to reevaluate your relationship to your practice.

Om

12.30.09
Falling forever
At 5 AM I run down to the ocean to check the waves. In the darkness they seem smaller than yesterday, which I like. I run home, eat a carne asada burrito for breakfast, suit up, wax up, grab my board and run down to the beach in a light drizzle under dark, heavy skies.

Standing on the cliffs above the beach looking at the waves, sharper now in the dawning light, a huge set comes through and I think, "No more big waves; I need a break." The tide is so high and the waves so big that the white water is undercutting the cliffs and washing up on the stairs; there is no beach anymore. I jump off the stairs into a wave and paddle out. After 20 minutes of being knocked back by walls of white water I finally break through and get outside. At the exact moment that I get outside, the sun rises over the cliffs and illuminates the white foam into a shining golden-white blaze and ignites the waves a see-through light, glowing green. The ocean comes alive with light and color. It's so beautiful, and a rare coincidence that the sun broke through the same instant I broke through the white water. A positive omen.

Outside on my peak, alone. The first set wave comes through; I paddle and drop, effortlessly. Usually big waves happen so fast I can't think. On this wave I kept falling and falling and thinking to myself, "I'm still falling...I'm still falling...I'm still falling." I finally hit the bottom, cut a bottom turn and carved back up and sped along. When the wave was over I thought "It reminds me of the song, 'Falling Forever' because I kept falling forever down the face of that wave."

After that first ride I changed my mind about wanting the surf to back down; I wanted it bigger. I caught wave after wave, set after set. Heaven. Life is grand. I run home to my apartment and make pu-ehr tea and eat panatone with Vanessa. Life is perfect.
--
12.29.09
Perfect
Waxing moon, two days shy of full, rising over the cliffs in the east in a dark blue-black sky. Flaming crimson, orange, yellow, purple, gold sunset, silhouetting the waves. The water reflecting the kaleidoscope hues of fractured light. Adam, Barry and I paddle out together for a sunset session. It's just heaven. Set waves coming in like dark lines. I have my own peak and drop, glide and ride. We surf until darkness sets in and then walk home together, completely stoked. Life could not be any better than this.

WWKSD? paddle out, drop in, and ride!
12.31.09
Last morning
Our last night in our little surf pad was spent laughing uncontrollably, dancing and playing guitar and making up impromptu songs, accompanied by the falling rain, bouncing on the leaves outside the open window. This morning we woke up to an impromptu morning massage and a sweaty living room dance party to the fresh cold sunny, blue sky morning coming in the windows, all mixed in with pu-ehr and toasted panatone. I say "hell yes!"

Tonight, meet at Swami's parking lot at 11PM for a dance party with DJ Electric Sky and then paddle out at midnight to bring in the new year with a full moon surf session. Sponsored by Bud Light, who say be sure to bring a designated paddler and surf responsibly. Bud light has fewer calories so it won't hold you under as long as Guinness.
WWKSD? Paddle out, drop in, and ride!

12.31.09
New Year; the Real Deal. Everyone Welcome!
Here's the revised plan:
New year; real deal, come and feel and heal. bring zeal, bring heart, be ready to turn life into art. Now is the time to start. come to dance, lose your pants, prance, take a stance for life and living, for soulful giving, the time to live is right now. come and go POW!

10PM, deep yoga
11PM, off the hook dance party with DJ Electric Sky
Midnite, paddle out bring in the new year with a full moon surf session.
followed by goodness knows what kind of fun....

bring a designated waxer, drop in responsibly.

831 334 1554

12.31.09
New Year’s I have known and loved
New Year's highlights:

Texas, 18 years old. My band played at a party in a trailer. We started playing at 6 PM. There were other bands taking turns playing in a room at one end of the trailer and we played in a room at the other end. I played from 6 PM until 6 AM the next morning with almost no breaks. Different people took spells on the drums, bass, and rhythm guitar and I played lead guitar straight through, all night. It was a marathon. It was so crowded with tightly packed bodies that when girls swarmed us and knocked us down we couldn't even fall over. It was snowing the next morning when we stepped outside; rare in Texas.

The Philippines. In the jungle with a few friends, on a stake out.

Korea. A friend and I dug a whole under the perimeter fence and climbed under it on our backs. Crawled across a cabbage field, rolled into a ditch, came up by a rode and flagged a taxi into town, spent the night with our girls, *very* narrowly escaping arrest by the MPs, and made it back under the fence and into bed without getting caught, just barely.

Yosemite. I spent new year's eve in my little cabin across the Merced river without electricity or road access.

Santa Cruz. My first New Year in Santa Cruz, at Peter's house on Trinity street, spent in bed with my girlfriend, just being in love. Heavenly.

Machu picchu, Peru. After hiking the Inca Trail. I spent the night alone with my guitar in the ruins, also on a full moon, and my first year anniversary away from the States.

Puerto Madryn, Patagonia, dancing all night with my friends, and naked windsurfing at dawn.

Joshua Tree National Park, CA, with my international climbing friends, having a wild party as only climbers can.

Austin, TX, with Francesca.

Prescott, AZ, having a dance party in our little cabin for all the Prescott College students who didn't go home for the holiday.

Costa Rica, making love in the middle of a soccer field. ;-)

England, near Brighton, at the Six Bells country pub.

Kripalu yoga center, MA, at their annual New Year's even dance and party. (I spent a couple new year's eves there)

Shelburne Falls, Massachusetts. 10 day silent meditation retreat at the Vipassana center.

India. I just finished a 10 day silent meditation retreat the morning of the 31st and spent new year's eve meditating with friends, and then dancing until dawn at a techno party.

India again, with Anthea on a train. We had chai out of my thermos to celebrate.

Stone Ridge, New York. Meditating with swami at the Ridgely retreat center and then alone, out in the snow, with a full moon and two deer watching me. Absolutely perfect.

Santa Cruz again, with poison oak and Francesca.

Santa Cruz again, with Bethan at Francesca's house. ;-)

Burgos, Spain, hiking the Camino de Santiago for my Christmas break from grad school. New Year's eve was an explosion of fireworks and the next morning was beautiful. I wandered into a church to get out of the bitter cold and the monks were chanting in Latin and I began to pray with gratitude and had tears in my eyes. A baker gave me free pastry as a gift. There were stork's nests in towers of the buildings.

Gruene, TX with Tasha, by the Guadalupe River.

New Zealand, with all my friends at our campsite, the "hotspot', dancing, cooking, doing yoga, surfing. A wonderful, wonderful new year's eve.

Baja, Mexico, far south, on the beach with a big driftwood fire, playing guitar and singing with Brianna. We swam naked in the ocean.

Back in Baja with Brianna. ;-) Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful.

Austin, TX, dancing of course.

Bodhgaya, India at the monastery with Mingyur rinpoche.

Baja, Mexico, with Alicia.

And this year, Cardiff, CA.

Full cycle.


12.31.09/1.1.10
Alone on the ocean at midnight
Cardiff California is probably one of the only places I can think of where you can walk down the street in a wetsuit, carrying a surfboard at 11:30 at night and no one seems to think it’s odd. In fact, the only comments I got were friendly new year greetings.

I found a shadowy spot along the state beach fence-line and climbed over in the dark, pulling my board over. Inside, I walked to the cliffs and watched the waves in the moonlight. I was alone because, in the end, no one else was up for surfing at midnight. But I was.

I paddled out alone in the dark water. It was an odd feeling. The water was like clear smokey-black quartz, shooting chips of flint sparkles in the moonlight. The white water had a ghostly, other-worldly hue in the moonlight. Outside, I floated, waiting for my set, feeling oddly relaxed in the huge, dark ocean. Not a soul out but me.
The sets came like dark lines and I discovered the biggest difference between night and day surf is depth perception, or the lack of it at night. The waves would come out of the dark and rear up and I would paddle and catch and jump up and ride and it was all so soft and gentle in the darkness, almost like slow motion, so different than in the daylight. I surfed into the new year, alone, in the darkness under the blue moon and I felt the joy of being alive, really alive. You only get that kind of experience once in a blue moon. Like tonight. Avanti to the new year.

WWKSD? What would Kelly Slater do? Paddle out, drop in and ride!

1.3.2010
Update
The last two days were trippy as they say. Xuemei arrived and I picked her up and immediately things begin to be irritating for me, as I began to realize I actually like being on my own and doing things my way spontaneously. I had planned to pick her up and go to Cardiff and have dinner on the cliffs with sunset. She wanted Chinese food and instead of actually doing some research and finding a good place she just used my iphone and randomly picked Chinese restaurants. We spent about three hours driving around, getting more and more starved and low-blood sugar crazy, visiting Chinese restaurants that were completely ridiculous. Finally I got pissed off and said, no, we are going to Cardiff and I am not driving aimlessly around san diego anymore looking for a Chinese restaurant.

And as soon as I did it my way, we drove right past a Chinese restaurant in la jolla, (that we would have passed about two and half hours sooner) and ate there and it was fine. And xuemei was happy. Then we went to the beach and walked and it was fun. But meanwhile Vanessa called and wanted to meet me at the apartment and get high and go surf and suddenly I realized how much more I wanted to be hanging out with Vanessa than xuemei. How easy and fun it was to hang out with Vanessa and how energy consuming it was to show xuemei around. I walked down the beach with xuemei until almost dark, wishing I was hanging out with Vanessa and really having fun. That night I had decided to go give a massage in santa monica to Shannon and get a haircut from her. I really didn’t want to leave Cardiff. But I had moved out of my apartment and it made sense to move on, although my heart did not want to go. In fact it was like prying my heart our of Cardiff. Adam called and invited me over, he was grilling salmon, and Vanessa was coming over, but I had already decided to go to santa monica and xuemei wanted to go shopping in LA and go to China Town, so very relunctantly and with a heavey heart, I left to drive to LA. But I could feel hooks in me, pulling me back. I drove that car towards LA but the whole time my heart was fighting with me to go back ‘home’ to my friends.

About 70 miles or so north of Cardiff my car broke again. Exactly as it had done the other three times. A complete loss of power. And I had to decide if I should push on to LA and do the massage and get the haircut, or turn around an try and get home and have friends and get it fixed in San Deigo. I turned around and as soon as I did I felt and incredible weight go off my heart. I limped it back to Adam’s house and we all had salmon and hung out and I felt uncomfortable to have xuemei there and not just be completely there with my friends, but it was still fine.

Before bed I did a bong hit and then went up to xuemei for our tantric session and as soon as it was done, in that moment of letting go, I felt instantly overcome with a bad feeling, that this was a mistake. I had no real reason to invite her here, I don’t really know her, and although I like her in a generic way, there is no connection here, so why am I tantricing this girl and why did I bring her here? I wanted her to not be here.

The next morning, yesterday, I went to the dealership and spent the day there. I told xuemei I could take her to the beach but she didn’t want to be alone there so she came along. The upshot was that the turbocharger needed to be replaced and I had to either try and drive it home broken or wait until Monday. I chose the latter. At the time it all seemed really bad. When I told xuemei she was really not happy. I suggested she could either stick around and drive back with me when it was fixed, or get a flight home asap. She chose the flight option. And we got her a flight leaving Tuesday morning. That still seemed like much to long for me because we were going to be homeless in my van for three days and nights and that wasn’t going to be fun at all. Othewise I could go stay with Alicia, but with xuemei here I’d have to stay in the van on the streets.

We went home to adam’s to get our stuff and kara insisted we stay here until xuemei leaves and adam told me to use his truck. So things got much better. We all had dinner together last night and will do again tonight and meanwhile I slept in front of the fire last night and now I don’t feel as trapped by xuemei being here. Today I will just take it as it comes. Things are fine again and I learned some things about myself by xuemei being here.

1.5.2010
The end of the road
At 5 AM, after two hours of sleep, I got up to drive Xuemei to the airport. On the way back I decided to hug the coast all the way home instead of taking I-5. After a circuitous route through La Jolla coves my road eventually became dirt and came to an abrupt end at a sheer wall of cliffs plummeting hundreds of feet down to the ocean. I stood on the edge looking down at long lines of waves in the jade-green sea and dolphins lazily arcing their way up the coast. The cliffs marched away into the distance along an arcing beach and were crowned with an undulating, beautifully weathered topography, with striated beds of soft rock, eroded into pillars and towers, layered different shades of burnt orange, buff, ochre, tan. As I stood looking down on this bucolic scene, the sun rose and I felt that piercing stillness and joy that comes when it is least looked for. I felt like I was back on the remote south island of New Zealand, far from all things concrete and developed. I drank in the beauty of this serendipitous moment on the road less traveled and wished to be far away from all things civilized again.

Finally, I made my way up to the coast to my local heartland, where I sat drinking a cup of coffee and eating a chocolate glazed VG donut and feeling very good about everything.

Avanti!
1.7.2010
Lost at last
After three weeks of surfing and doing yoga in Cardiff By the Sea, on the Southern California coast I had developed a longing, hunger, an ache to be alone in nature that was visceral. I Spent my last night on the coast in Santa Monica, connecting with friends, giving massage and attending a kirtan that was transformative. I slept like a stone in the mothership parked on the street in a peaceful LA neighborhood.

This morning I woke up and let go of all my ideas about what I should do next. I surrendered to not knowing. I began to drive and let the flow pull me in. The morning was lucent, stunningly clear and vibrating light and color. After a couple hours of driving, I found myself in the high desert soaking in hot springs in the cold morning air, looking up at snow-covered mountains soaring 12,000 feet into the sky.

I continued letting go and allowed the flow to take me higher into the desert toward Joshua Tree National Park. On the way I passed a little cinema playing the movie Avatar, that so many people have suggested I see. I got so excited I started dancing in my driver's seat. A few blocks later I passed a man standing beside the road with a sign that said 'Five dollar large cheese pizza'. That's all needed. I pulled over and got a large cheese pizza and sat in the mothership relishing the flavor and texture of fresh hot pizza. Nothing satisfies like pizza. Especially when you're already ravenously hungry. Next I drove back to the cinema and bought a ticket. Three hours later I stepped out into a different world and headed into Joshua Tree National Park, just after sunset. Life is on!

Avanti!

1.8.2010
Joshua Tree breathes me
Let me warn you; this is a tale of power and magic.

Entering the high desert world of Joshua Tree, just after sunset, I become aware that it is not me that is breathing; but it is the desert that is breathing me.

I find a campsite just as night falls and walk into the desert. I let the desert current and topography funnel me, weaving through the Joshua trees and wild granite formations, being washed along across the desert, pulled by the desert itself. Entering Echo Canyon, I am immediately flooded with a lifetime of memories associated with the climbs on Echo Rock. Memories layered in lifetimes of strata. I have so many memories on top of memories from these climbs that I have memories I can't even *remember*.

I have learned that if you come to the desert with an open heart and sincerely ask it to teach you, to answer your questions, it will give you what you ask for. As I wander alone under a moonless sky, the stars come out so bright they look like big flakes of light in a blue-black nothingness. I begin the process of melting, unwinding, becoming one with the desert, becoming still and quiet, remembering, and seeing

I am as at home and comfortable walking through the moonless black desert night winding through the rock formations and canyons with coyotes singing, as I would be in my own home. I climb a rock formation, an inselberg in geologic jargon, and sit in a little cave on top, smelling the desert flora, oak and sage, listening to coyote singing, and I open more and more, letting go, melting, becoming empty of me and full of something much bigger than the little me I am letting go of. I lose all sense of time and distance and simply wander, literally drifting along in the invisible, but tangible, currents of the desert. I see the stars in the sky and realize I am not looking at points of light that I take for granted and call stars. I am looking at thousands and thousands of suns, every point of light is a sun, surrounded by a solar system, just like ours, yet there are 100 million stars in our galaxy alone, and hundred million other galaxies. Each of these is a star fusing hydrogen to helium and releasing electromagnetic energy as a bi-product of that process, and that bi-product is the energy that fuels the universe. This entire universe is vibrating with nothing but energy, and even deeper than that level, the thing we call energy, the vibrational pattern of all we think we experience, is a level behind the energy. Something hard to know, harder to talk about.

I wander all night, when I am tired, I lay on the ground or in a cave, I meditate, I cry, I laugh, I feel, I am emptied of myself, the stars are huge. At last, after wandering far into the night I return to the mothership and pick up my guitar. and play, under the starry, starry sky.

Day 2:

I am back up before dawn and out into the desert again. It pulls me like a magnet. I wander freely, without direction, in one of the only places I know of where I can be completely alone, no people, no sounds, just endless desert and rock formations. The desert leads me to the village of the old ones, and here I sit in a cave with pictographs and smoke the chanupa that Kokopelli and I Ieft in a crevice six months ago. The tobacco brings me clarity and instantly brings me into another world. The old ones are here and I feel their presence. I sit with them, emptying myself of me.

If you do not have a place where your heart lives you may not understand what happens to me here at Joshua Tree. I have a few places that are homes of my heart. Joshua Tree is one of them. They are places where much of the formative history that shaped my life occurred. Part of my heart is always here and when I leave I leave behind part of my self and I can never be truly complete when I am away from this place. The same goes for the Sierra Nevada. And New Zealand and the California coast. When I am in these homes of my heart I can simply walk for days at a time and no time has passed because I disappear into a timeless state. A state where my life, my very breath become a prayer of gratitude. This is the magic of belonging in a place. You become the place you love and it breathes you.

In the evening, with a heavy heart and a hollow pit in my gut. I took the wheel of the mothership and drove out in my last sunset, heading back to Texas, being torn from what I love, to return to another dimension. One of blindness.