Visualized

Living apart and at peace with myself; I came to realize more vividly the meaning of the doctrine of acceptance.  To refrain from giving advice, to refrain from meddling in the affairs of others, to refrain, even though the motives be the highest, from tampering with another’s way of life.  So simple, yet so difficult for an active spirit.
— Henry Miller

As soon as we start putting our thoughts into words and sentences everything gets distorted, language is just no damn good—I use it because I have to, but I don’t put any trust in it. We never understand each other.” — Marcel Duchamp

“The odds of not meeting in this life are so great that every meeting is like a miracle. It’s a wonder that we don’t make love to every single person we meet.” -Yoko Ono

“Every life is many days, day after day. We walk through ourselves, meeting robbers, ghosts, giants, old men, young men, wives, widows, brothers-in-love. But always meeting ourselves.” — James Joyce, Ulysses

Stand up, stand out, on shoulders, on mountains, on faith. -Me

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A man and his stick.

The last moment of my burning man experience was the one that made it all ring sense.  As I stood ready to board the airport shuttle back to home I saw a man and a stick.  More like a branch.  It looked like an alder branch but somehow I doubt there are any alder trees in Reno.  He had a cane with no discernible limp, no shoes, a hint of clothing, and some superficial wounds on the front and back of his legs.  He was wailing and muttering.  Crying and then not crying.  Every last person around me had been in the desert with me for a week and I reckon we all felt the same thing.  Thank god we made it out of there with our sanity.  Shit gets real out in the heat.  Your heart bursts and breaks over and over again.  The sights inspire and frighten.  Everything is literal.  There is no shade, no relief from the environment and your personal weather systems.  If you were about to break, you came home broken.  If you were broken, you came home stitched up.   Thank god.

I took some old hurt to the temple and watched it burn.  I laughed so hard that my face ached far into the week.  I saw my tribe and myself for the gold that is in it.  And I made it out alive.  Once again.  I always promise myself that I will remember all of the nuggets of wisdom and here I am, forgetting already.  It is a funny thing, when you transcend, you are always drawn back to the comfort of comfort.

To that man with his branch;

Going crazy feels good.  I hope you made it home alright and that your stick gave you some grounding while you flew above the cuckoos nest.  Sometimes I wish I had the stremph to let my nuts fly loose.  Thank you for reminding me how tenuous our hold on reality really is.

07 Tangerine

On a side note….every time that I fly, I am sure that I am about to die.  Why is that?