Heart Trees

Weeks ago I dreamed about all friends together at home. Lots of people that make the heart go boom-boom in full flavor. I was feeling relaxed and love lucky in dreamland as some light peeked into my eyelids, giving the vague notion that I was not with everyone. So said to myself, "Yep I'll have everyone over for dinner this week." I turned over to snuggle with Steve. And minutes later as the light got brighter I realized, "Oh Man! I'm in the middle of Arizona in an RV! Wait! All my friends aren't even in one geographic location!" It made me wonder, "How do you live with that conundrum?"

Something heard my question, and later on I saw a beautiful sight! It was beautiful! I tried to draw it for you:

It was a heart, right? And this heart maintained its heartness while reaching out capillaries that were really roots. Through space and time this heart could reach far like the way the light of the stars crosses billions of vacuums and galaxies in all directions.

Sometimes I feel like the Simon Garfunkle song that goes, "I am a ROCK! I am an island!" I could hear that Song of Alone this one night. and I have always felt that it was coming out of my own heart. But I heard the song coming from far away across space! Imagine that in hearts there are different flowers blooming. Imagine that theses flowers are located all over the cosmos. Say there is a sparkling starry Gardenia behind the Morning Star, and all the gardenias on earth are like bells that ring the same tune as as the one Great Gardenia.

So this night that I was hearing the Song of Alone, I could feel how the song was being sung by the same flowers I wanted to touch and smell! I wondered, "How do you smell something so far away?" The Heart of Roots and Veins just grew! It grew so far across space! Space was like a muscle deprived of oxygen, and the Heart grew capillaries into the muscle to deliver blood and life. It was like the Heart was a Spider weaving the Net of Indra! The capillaries of the heart reached to touch the far-away heart flowers- to breathe them and smell them. As the first Heart reached out, the far-away heart flower singing the Song of Alone turned happy like a little bird singing at sunrise. As the first Heart reached out to touch, the far-away flower glowed and turned to a reaching Heart with roots as well! Together they entwined like the roots of the Redwoods, who underground weave together and anchor each other through high winds. As the heart and the now-heart flower came together, it was as if all the flowers I had wanted to smell were ringing like singing birds, and all across space the capillaries grew and united all the flowers!

Pictures!

We started out in Phoenix. Here's the first fountain, civilized and such.

Sunset at Apache Junction. There were little bunnies all over this place! Those are the tops of Saguaro cactuses. We learned they can be a full 30 years old when they're just 2 feet tall!

The sign said something like,
"WARNING: Flash Floods/ Death is Imminent."
But Steve drove across it anyway.

And we wound around Tortilla Flats.
Donde estan los burrittos?

There was grass from the rain!

Stevie

in full effect!

Lake near Roosevelt dam. Damn dam is what I like to say.

We got into Sedona yesterday and the first order of business was water! This road to the Springs was closed to traffic because of structure damage from rain earlier in the week, so we walked down it with all our bottles in tow and filled up!

Yeah! Now that's a fountain!

Technology!

This Operating Systems we've got can process advanced applications on its heartdrive.

Now that we have antivirus software... I want to write new programs- with less energy demand and higher output! And I bet there's an infinite number of fun existing applications I never knew existed. Gonna delete running apps that slow processing, optimize the ones that work, and explore new ones! Who knows what's out there?!

Man, gadgets on the outside are only so advanced- internal upgrades are where it's at!

Will

Sumptuous purring delicious relaxation. Enough warmth and pressure, and those peas are tender. Surely that is a beautiful part of the dream- the dream that beckons to be, that moans in good feeling for more of what is. Will and dreaming. I wonder I wander I wander...


One of the most dangerous things we can do in nature is to interrupt the will of a wild animal. Everybody knows not to mess with the Mother, a bear. A tortoise will give up its life for a chance to mate. It's as if current life is secondary to current will.

A human has free will to create a life that isn't subject to the popular programming of our species. Who does it? We can be kinder than necessary for physical survival. Because we will it? Visions and realizing dreams are the jurisdiction of will. What are we capable of when wielding it purely? How do we unite ourselves entirely to the intent of our highest will? What is our highest will?



Is it possible to answer the question with words, picture, scent, song, touch? (The hope of art and lovers) And are senses like the petals of a rose? Soft petals that fold over each other in perfect pattern; enclosing, protecting, and yet also revealing the pristine center. The center. Sent her. Scent here. Sent here. Petals all around circling the golden crown.

We have the inclination /desperation for some sort of wider sweeter trajectory. As if the movement itself is the wholeness. *That* direction.

I agree now that it is a feeling. When I ask myself, "What is my highest will?" The only answer that feels right is that twinkle in the black- my heart and those eyes. I saw black eyes so warm and kind they held a world- like cream skimmed off the top of many glasses of milk. I wished for something I don't know how to wish for.




Hit the note. Silence hits back.

Beautiful Days in Beaufort

"Man is what he believes. The more refined one is, the more unhappy... You must trust and believe in people or life becomes impossible." -Anton Chekhov


Steve and I are jumping in the RV and driving to Arizona...

Floating

Tonight I fantasized about living in a little hut in the grasses near the ocean. Catching fish, growing wildflowers, watching birds, making their portrait.

Yesterday I took off my clothes on the wide low tide beach. Walked into the water and floated myself in the ice cold. The shallows span out in all directions. Looking to the sky, the dome of vision made me feel a body bobbing between sky and water. A little scared, a little peace, a little perfect. Felt alive.

Sometimes I get restless over spiritual head-soup: Jesus /end times/ perfection in the chaos/ whatever I'm obsessed with at the moment. Fretting over the quality of my soul (as if I know what that is) makes me tired and instead I want to just scream, "YES!" to my blood. Eat wild things. Feel the breeze of the heron as he wings by or shiver in the ocean under the stars. I wish I knew the stars.

In fact, I wish I knew everyone I know.
We do our weeping alone and that doesn't help.

Ocean Dress

Shelter. The quiet repetition

Can you feel the sinews crack like an oak that has no water? Branches come down when there is no life to uphold them. Down go the trees. Is it not so bad? Is it a deal with God?

The everlasting chaos growls in the afternoon, but as the sun sets, the ocean gentles into a slippery satin gown curving over the sands in thick fluid folds. Flirting. Crowning herself in so many burning jewels. They shine on your dress, Your Royal Equalness. Pride and Lust so bright they're divine make emeralds blaze off the water. If we jumped in it would be like she'd never been there at all. Unless we gave up. Then she would hold us forever and swallow us too, laid to at her feet.

Or would it stay real? Would he whisper indigo velvet in the deep night- something sweet to make it complete? To make the dream breathe? Scents of vetiver chypre soothing through the ear...

one pine in the field, smiling at you.