Tuesday, October 30, 2007

Going to Alaska

I am on my way to Alaska
Hitching a ride with
a long-haul trucker

Just me, a pair of sneakers
on my feet, blue jeans
a short sleeved shirt
light jacket, just the clothes
on my back
and nothing more.

Maybe not apropos
for the cold frontier
I’m heading for.

But then I was never
ready or proper
for anything
place or thing
I found myself in.

The air through Canada
clear and crisp;
late spring,
flowers just dreaming –
of a bloom.

Gliding across the border
Snow capped mountain peaks
a land vast,
open and
free I see.

He drives to
his destination
I thank him for the ride
and conversation
he did provide;
been a journey to

I walk from here
till there are
no roads to follow,
towards the edge
of this beautiful
open land.

Finally a trail, a path I find
up through a valley
and along gentle
mountain slopes.

Right up next to a
damned fence
it seemed to go,
all the way
no end in sight.

The path looks well-worn;
there are others
walking too.

I think we are all
looking for
past the edge,
the fence
that holds us in
or keeps us out.

I meet another;
she is as angry as me
Pissed at life
the bull-shit
of not being where

Wants to be
so do I.
Don’t know why
we even spoke
but soon our conversation
turned us round and
back down the path we
both were on.

I don’t know what
it’s all about but,
I have to go it alone.

The path, I see,
was worn by
those who turned back
not by those who kept
going to the end.

I had to bid her good-by
and find the end
of that fence
that hems me in.

I have to find the door,
the passage that leads
me from this foreign world.

Have to find it before
winter sets in
I am ill prepared to
survive the storms.
I know they will
surely be my end.

maybe they
are the way
which will finally
set me free
home to be.

I had this dream just before I woke today, the frame upon which this was written. Had to write it down before I left for work, so it is still rough and a work in progress.
Then just as I was leaving, before I shut the door, in the distance I hear distinct sound of a Jake-brake of truck trailer rig off in the distance. A call perhaps, telling me it is time to go.

Monday, October 29, 2007


Feeling always alone, when
you are with someone –
is better than
being alone.

Then again,
it is only a lie
I tell myself.

Sunday, October 21, 2007

A Couple of Thoughts

"Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don't matter, and those who matter don't mind."

~~ Dr. Seuss

"Today I will treat myself softly and gently and lovingly as I
would treat a new baby or a tiny kitten."

~~by Wendy H. Chapman


I have been searching for and collecting books on a wide variety of subjects (Physics, religion, occult, metaphysics and philosophy), all in a search for some hidden truth behind all the answers. Many of them I did not read until later, only to find, that at the time I finally read them, it was just the book I needed for that moment.

I have been collecting knowledge and understanding the same way and recently come to see that it is not any of this stuff I can “grasp” or “understand” for which I was seeking but, instead it is the mystery and awe which is beyond the reasons and understandings which is the source. It is the “ah ha” song which is sung from the I am within, which was/is the connection I was searching for. I have found it was always there, just drowned out by the noise of all the distractions I flooded my life and self with.

Perhaps it is in this cycle of learning and unlearning which leads the song or maybe that is just its echo. I don’t really know but then, it is that which I don’t even know, I don’t know which is the open window through which the light shines and the music plays.

The line from Thomas Gray’s poem “ignorance is bliss” has since taken on a much more profound meaning than the cliché it used to be.

Ode on a Distant Prospect of Eton College
by Thomas Gray

Ye distant spires, ye antique towers,
That crown the watery glade,
Where grateful Science still adores
Her Henry's holy shade;
And ye, that from the stately brow
Of Windsor's heights the expanse below
Of grove, of lawn, of mead survey,
Whose turf, whose shade, whose flowers among
Wanders the hoary Thames along
His silver-winding way.

Ah, happy hills, ah, pleasing shade,
Ah, fields beloved in vain,
Where once my careless childhood strayed,
A stranger yet to pain!
I feel the gales, that from ye blow,
A momentary bliss bestow,
As waving fresh their gladsome wing,
My weary soul they seem to soothe,
And, redolent of joy and youth,
To breathe a second spring.

Say, Father Thames, for thou hast seen
Full many a sprightly race
Disporting on thy margent green
The paths of pleasure trace,
Who foremost now delight to cleave
With pliant arm thy glassy wave?
The captive linnet which enthrall?
What idle progeny succeed
To chase the rolling circle's speed,
Or urge the flying ball?

While some on earnest business bent
Their murmuring labours ply
'Gainst graver hours, that bring constraint
To sweeten liberty:
Some bold adventurers disdain
The limits of their little reign,
And unknown regions dare descry:
Still as they run they look behind,
They hear a voice in every wind,
And snatch a fearful joy.

Gay hope is theirs by fancy fed,
Less pleasing when possessed;
The tear forgot as soon as shed,
The sunshine of the breast:
Theirs buxom health of rosy hue,
Wild wit, invention ever new,
And lively cheer of vigour born;
The thoughtless day, the easy night,
The spirits pure, the slumbers light,
That fly the approach of morn.

Alas, regardless of their doom,
The little victims play!
No sense have they of ills to come,
Nor care beyond today:
Yet see how all around 'em wait
The ministers of human fate,
And black Misfortune's baleful train!
Ah, show them where in ambush stand
To seize their prey the murderous band!
Ah, tell them they are men!

These shall the fury Passions tear,
The vultures of the mind
Disdainful Anger, pallid Fear,
And Shame that skulks behind;
Or pining Love shall waste their youth,
Or Jealousy with rankling tooth,
That inly gnaws the secret heart,
And Envy wan, and faded Care,
Grim-visaged comfortless Despair,
And Sorrow's piercing dart.

Ambition this shall tempt to rise,
Then whirl the wretch from high,
To bitter Scorn a sacrifice,
And grinning Infamy.
The stings of Falsehood those shall try,
And hard Unkindness' altered eye,
That mocks the tear if forced to flow;
And keen Remorse with blood defiled,
And moody Madness laughing wild
Amid severest woe.

Lo, in the vale of years beneath
A grisly troop are seen,
The painful family of Death,
More hideous than their Queen:
This racks the joints, this fires the veins,
That every labouring sinew strains,
Those in the deeper vitals rage:
Lo, Poverty, to fill the band,
That numbs the soul with icy hand,
And slow-consuming Age.

To each his sufferings: all are men,
Condemned alike to groan,
The tender for another's pain;
The unfeeling for his own.
Yet ah! why should they know their fate?
Since sorrow never comes too late,
And happiness too swiftly flies.
Thought would destroy their paradise.
No more; where ignorance is bliss,
'Tis folly to be wise.

Wednesday, October 10, 2007


When it seems that things are not quite right, remember:
We are all butterfies having a Caterpillar experience at various times in our lives and forget the wondrous winged creatures we truly are.

Monday, October 8, 2007



Little swan flew through the Dreamtime, looking for the future. She rested for a moment in the coolness of the pond, looking for a way to find the entry point to the future. This was a moment of confusion for Swan, as she knew she had happened into Dreamtime by accident. This was her first flight alone and she was a bit concerned by the Dreamtime landscape.

As Swan looked high above Sacred Mountain, she saw the biggest swirling black hole she had ever seen. Dragonfly came flying by, and Swan stopped him to ask about the black hole. Dragonfly said, "Swan, that is the doorway to the other planes of imagination. I have been guardian of the illusion for many, many moons. If you want to enter there, you would have to ask permission and earn the right."

Swan was not so sure that she wanted to enter the black hole. She asked Dragonfly what was necessary for her to earn entry. Dragonfly replied, "You must be willing to accept whatever the future holds as it is presented, without trying to change Great Spirit's plan." Swan looked at her ugly little duckling body and then answered, "I will be happy to abide by Great Spirit's plan. I won't fight the currents of the black hole. I will surrender to the flow of the spiral and trust what I am shown." Dragonfly was very happy with Swan's answer and began to spin the magic to break the pond's illusion. Suddenly, Swan was engulfed by a whirlpool in the center of the pond.

Swan reappeared many days later, but now she was graceful and white and long-necked. Dragonfly was stunned! "Swan, what happened to you!" he exclaimed. Swan smiled and said, "Dragonfly, I learned to surrender my body to the power of Great Spirit and was taken to where the future lives. I saw many wonders high on Sacred Mountain and because of my faith and my acceptance I have been changed. I have learned to accept a state of grace." Dragonfly was very happy for Swan.
Swan told Dragonfly many of the wonders beyond the illusion. Through her healing and her acceptance of the state of grace, she was given the right to enter the Dreamtime.

So it is that we learn to surrender to the grace of the rhythm of the universe, and slip from our physical bodies into the Dreamtime. Swan medicine teaches us to be at one with all planes of consciousness, and to trust in the Great Spirit's protection."

from the book:
Medicine Cards
"The Discovery of Power Through The Ways of Animals"
Jamie Sams and David Carson

Grace? Yes that is the gotcha for me.

It seems like no matter how intense the oneness I often feel or the depth of the epiphanies encountered on my quest for truth, I still, so often, feel like an unwanted pimple on God’s/Goddess’s/Divine Spirit’s nose.