Deep Links

2017 Themes

If you know me, you know I've already done my 2017 yearly goals. And they are four pages of beauty encompassing my dreams for all aspects of my life from pleasurable moments to my business financials. In addition to those, I've just pulled out a few meta-themes for the year. Here they are for posterity. 

In general, my main meta-theme is: Crossing the Stream. Moving my tiny water pedaco from where I have been, to the place where I can achieve, accomplish and have everything I dream. I can already tell I am moving. I feel the water around me. It is different. I am no longer in the ebb, I am flowing. To where, I can't tell you the exact location, but I know the feeling. The feeling is my guide.

Other guiding feelings.

• Benevolent Shocks.
• Endless Summer.
• Simple, dramatic streamlining.
• Partial success.
• Gasoline + fire.
• Go around the obstacle. 

Crossing the Stream

My life has taken on a strange flavor. I don't recognize it. I don't recognize me. Although I am who I am and nothing has changed. And yet everything has changed.

Last week, I had a vision. Tiny drop of water. Swirling in an eddy. Deciding to change where she flowed. The drop cuts across the flows. Finding a new one. Realizing in cutting across the flows, she will find herself in a strange land. Even as she heads to a strange new flow. And indeed I have found myself in a strange land. While in my own land.

Over the past couple month, some people who were very important and vital to me and my life for several years, have evaporated and gone. Strangely, I do not pine for them in their absence. Perhaps our time together is up. I know if they are important, we will find ourselves in the same space/time again. But that time is not now.

In the meantime, I am crossing the streams. I am finding myself in a strange land. With strange words. Strange rituals. Familiar roads, streets show me a new view. Los Angeles unveils a different side. 

I take it in. Despite speaking another language, I understand. I hear what it is telling me. I'm surprised. Surprised that I'm so comfortable in this world. Some past self wouldn't be. Would run away from it. An echo of that past self wonders: What the hell am I doing? The present self answers: I have no fucking clue. I'm no where near where I thought I would ever be, but I'm ok with that. I have no agenda. This road leads somewhere, and I don't really care where. 

I would be the same whether I walked a road whose destination I thought I knew; or a road whose destination was unknown. The destination is not the journey - its the way one is during the journey that is my practice.

And so I continue to surrender. I am who I am. This does not change. I know I'm phase shifting. I trust where I will end up, and even so, if that even matters, I trust the way I'm walking the path. How I am crossing the stream.

The Scar

The wormhole from which the 2016 election emerged has left a scar, like the slime of a slugs trail across reality. The universe looks for equilibrium. From the same worm hole are other possibilities. 

Stand here with me. On the edge of the Abyss. Take my hand. Let us go deep into the scar and mine the possibilities. Dive deep into the puss-filled possibilities. Eat away the disease. Transform it through our bodies. Formidable gut bacteria, eating away the filth. Bedrock of fresh clean meat. Unsullied. Fecund with integrity. And from here, take our needles and pierce. Bleed. Sew. Grow. Bring two to one. Becoming one. A fresh line across your face, or thigh or belly. And society, history - our possible futures.

Flesh remains. It grows. Fills the trauma gap. The scar, a map of the journey, remains. We remain.

 

Water fall

Like water over a rock. The water flows on. One can not change the essence of water. Whether in wide rivers, shallow bubbling streams or deep in the ocean. Falling from the the sky or bubbling up from the ground, or flowing out of your faucet when you turn it on.  

Where ever it goes, its nature can not be changed. Water is water. And water behaves as water behaves. Flowing. Filling up. Finding the lowest place from which to flow. Whether that is from a crack in a plastic bottle or the edge of a cliff.

Does water lose itself in free flight? As the droplets form out of the flow midair? Only to return to itself at the pool? Does the water fight the flow? Catching itself in an eddy? Does it flow against the flow? Collected and taken out of the flow? Consumed by a deer or a hiker or a plant that unfurls a rose that attracts a bee collecting pollen?

That's the meta theme for 2017. Double water. Water falling, flowing, wherever it may go.