CHUPACABRA!

on yahoo, even!

cosmos.bcst.yahoo.com/up/play...exFP.php

story for dreaming

A story... had to go and open my trap, the one I always get caught in. let me preface this that when i heard it it was a different story, so its not from anywhere anymore, but since its not from me, since its just passing through, and since it passed through brazil, well just call it "a-traveling bones"...and it starts like this


of course it was a long time ago, or it would be news, not a story. and it happened so long ago that it could have been right here or half way around the world, or on another planet, far, far across the spinning strands of stars, and it wouldn't matter, not a bit. but it just so happens that it happened all the way around the world, which is to say, right where you are...

now, there were people then too, too many to count, which is to say one could make an educated guess but by the time the figuring was done something was always different than when it had begin, so it only figures that if people tried to count and got the number right it was wrong by the time they said it or if it was right, it was wrong by the time anyone heard it, so it suffices to say that there were alot of people, and too many to count.

with that many people alot of troubles came round. when a man has no neighbors and plenty of room he might have a few troubles, like not having anyone to talk with, sing to or spoon with, and maybe some big troubles, like no food or too much snow and not enough shelter, but no mater how big the troubles, when youre alone they are always very few.

however, when so many people get into a place that all there is and are is more of them in any which way one goes, and they all want something, food, work, love, a place to sleep, someone to listen, a change of clothes, a fix, money... and they think or hope or just assume that since there are so many people that someone will have what they want, and well, afterall, if someone has something, they dont need it as much as someone who doesnt have it, and then you get jealousy, envy, greed, and well, after that you see there are alot of troubles to go round. Add to that the wars and so on, and you can imagine how bad it got.

So there were alot of troubles and alot of people, and well, it all got to be so bad that one day the troubles all conspired and began to really get some synergy going. First there were people and people problems, hatreds, meaness, greed, wrath, sloth, war, all of those things we were told about, told to avoid. People making slaves of one another, killing, doing horrible things in hospitals and labrotories, experimenting with living beings in ways that tortured spirit and nature. What demon it was that gloried in this we would do well to never know, but if we must know we will do best to reflect that no demon can make life from stone.

So with all this human trouble, the world herself started in on her woefull way. There would be a drought, and war torn souls, only fragments of what were once people, they would have very little to eat, and that would be poisoned by the war pollution. Then the dry drought would allow a fire to start and that would burn up what little was left of any homes, or forests and shade, and now people were homeless and hungry and sun burned. Then it would then start to rain so hard that everything filled up with water and flooded, and the waters were acidic and no food would grow with them, and the starving people were drowning, and then volcanos started to roar, and that was really just the begining. It got much worse, so bad that even stories cannot say, so horrible that no memory exists, so painful that the minds had to wipe it clean. Like being born. Do any of us remember? What was it like to be warm, content, connected, provided for, then suddenly with pushes, with heaving, with force, made to leave the safe warm comfort of that dreamlike infinity, and have hard air shoved into your face, have the wet quiet comfort torn from you and be placed in rough, cold hands, with lights breaking through your eyes and the deafening roar of "ITS A >>>!" when, before all that, it was all it was, a safe, almost silent dream, and love...

So we forget birth, its too much pain, to much trauma, and we forget everything for a few or several months after that, a kind of initiatory PTSD that we hopefully grow out of. After all, we lived through that birthing so we can handle other troubles, right?

maybe. maybe not. After the volcanoes came other things too terrible to recollect. it was in this time that two brothers, twins, decided to try to find a way out, to escape the world and its sorrows. Having been burned, having been shot, having died and become ghosts, they to the air and let spirit guide them- really there was nothing left, no landmarks, no mountains, no forests, no rivers, no lakes, no oceans, no cities. All was simply broken, ash covered, the burnt pit of a week old clam bake picked clean by gulls and left charred, with broken remnants of stone littering it and here and there a small puff of ash raising in a malevolent wind. And that was all, that as far as mind could dream, that and two brothers.

So they flew, hungry, unclothed, ash covered, nameless, for days, weeks, perhaps years or lifetimes.
They flew and saw all this grey nothing the same everywhere, and it was like they were blind. But since it was all they ever new they did not dispair- and since it was all they knew and it was their hearts that led the onward, they followed, without complaint, tireless, despite the cold, unflagging despite the hunger.

So eventually it came to pass that on the horizon one of the brothers spied a thing, something that you and I might recognize as having once been a tree, but only once, as it was burned and tortured and had not a single leaf or even unburned branch. It cast almost no shade, so dismal was the light through the dust clouded skies, so thin was it burned by the fires and smashed by the wars an dried by the rainless winds, but it was just enough, so the brothers, thinking this was novel, decided to pause, to be in the shade, to feel something different from the unerring margin of equality that death shares. And there in the shade, the brothers paused, looking at one another in wonder of this new substance. One brother, we wil call him xlotxcal, tried to break a piece of and taste it, but the shadow could not be gathered into a hand. The other brother, who we will call xololanxinco, though to try to make the shade bigger and tried pushing the tree out of the way. It fell, and the shade scattered like rats, disapearing into the earth. xlotxcal was furious.

now these names, they have histories, just like smith and cooper, but I'd be lying if I said I knew what they meant, and that goes for smith and cooper as well- when was the last time you hurled the fire mad iron agains the breaking stones? when was the last time you bent the wooden slats with steam so hot your hair fell from your skin where the whistling caressed you? I know nothing but what ive read, im impoverished this waay as too many of us are, but this is my story and ill not apologize for that: I know nothing of being a smith, cooper, xlotxcal or xololanxinco, but I like the way the music of them swims in the wideness of my mind, and they round the story well, so Ill continue worshiping emptiness and singing these nams...

"You made the difference go away, now its all the same again!" xololanxinco was outraged. "I was trying to make more of a difference for you! How was I to know my plan to give you something would backfire. Its not my fault!" It went on like this until the brothers were tired. Finally it was decided that xlotxcal would fly on, and xololanxinco would wait by the burned tree to in case the difference returned. If it did, he agreed to find xlotxcal, and xlotxcal agreed that should he find a difference, he would return for xoloanxinco. In this way they could share but would have time to escape the trouble that appeared to find them. they knew about trouble, thier grandmother, before she died, had told them about how trouble had made the world the way it was these days, with nothing by a grey blindness, valleys filled, mountains leveled, seas dried, all left like a dusty desert or a moon. no place for trouble to hide, it was true, but no joy over the taste of a raspberry, no smiles about a babys cooing, no sunrise or sunset to wonder over. just greyness.

SO they separated. how long passed, I cannot say, it may have been hours, or lifetimes, and xololanxinco waited by the burned tree, and xlotxcal seasrched every horizon, scanning endless from the skies for a difference from this constant nothing of the world they new. just sitting did not give xololanxinco pleasure, at least flying he felt wind in his face, and the horizon moved just a bit. Sitting was difficult. no wind in his face, no subtle shitfts of the horizon, no brother to talk with. Eventually Xololanxinco became angrier and angrier. why did he have to stay? He wasnt trying to taste the difference for himself, he wanted to make more and share it! certainly this was an error! he wanted to leave, but was bound by his honor to stay, and in staying and in anger, he started throwing stones at the old tree, cursing it. "BASTARD OF GODS! defiler of dreams! HAter of life! You place your troubles on me and I cannot carry them, but you bind and will not bury me!" He threw the stones and tears of rag fell from his eyes, and he threw teh stones and the hollow banging of them stones against the old dead tree snapped loudly, and his teas fell to the ground and wetted it at his feet, and he jumped upon the carcass of the tree now and beat it with a large stone, burnt wood chips flying as he sobbed " Give me back my brother and keep your shade trickster, all of this life a void, and you take even my own heart! left you be dust as well!" and as he beat the trunk of the tree and wailed and sobbed he lost his voice but continued to wail, lost his sight but continued to cry, lost his stone but continued to beat the trunk.

far away, xlotxcal heard a sound. it was distant at first, but there it was- pa-bum, pa-bum, pa-bumbum, pa-bumbumbumbum, regular, strong and deep. he started flying to it, furiously. He forgot how long he had been flying, hiw he had missed his brother, how he regretted leaving him, he forgot his honor and his dignity, he flew so fast and with such determination that his face was filed down by the wind, that his arms-wings folded deeply upon themselves, athat his shape was changed utterly, and his mind also. He flew feircely towards the sound, and approaching it he saw something unlike anything he had ever witnessed; there, on the ground, was green tree, a thriving fruiting beautiful tree and beneath it was a pond, deep blue and cool looking. next to the tree, near the pool, was a thing he hardly recognized, but his grandmother had old him something like this, he thought, the grouse, who was beating his wings against a log, pounding it furriously in flurries, over and over again. as he flew over he caught a glimpse of himself in the pond, streamlined, powerful, with sharp eyes practiced from searching, talons for grasping, wings for speed and distance. He screamed in joy, that he coudl tell his brother of this, and the beating stopped. When he looked down, the grouse was gone.

Xololanxinco heard a scream above the beating he made on the log. it was terrifying, so he immediately stopped and leapt to the ground and hid. under his feet he felt softness, coolness, so unlike the dust he was familiar with. for a moment he was in shock. he tried to look at it, but his eyes were nearly blind form unending tears. when he decided to call out, he found his voice was gone from eternal cries and wailing, and he was able to only make a low burbling noise. Xlotxcal determined to take a drink of the water, and then go to find his brother, who he was sure he could capture the grouse for a fine dinner, the first since grandmother had died so many lifetimes ago. When Xololanxinco heard the wins shift off in the wind, he was happy. He knew that something was indeed different- the feeling under his feet- was it miner's lettuce? He tasted it, and it was good. and that sound and smell, it must surely be water! what had happened while he lamented, he was unsure, for he had been so lonely and pained he went blind. but he was also sure that if this screaming trouble in the sky could hear his lamentable beating on the old trunk, then so too, perhaps, could his brother. so he ate and drank and rested, and awoke with hope, and began to beat the log again, calling his brother to share the good fortune he had found.



and it is here that I will leave you to wonder what happens next, because a story is best when it is dreamed on for a time, which ever end of it you happen to be on.

so with that, i thank you for your indulgence, and for what I've begun, or at least carried on, or perhaps just passed along, Ill wish you sweeet dreams and goodnight.

breakthrough

i havent had above the board work since aug 2003.

5 years of un-employment.

So i got my black belt, a masters degree, and kept applying to jobs, and kept hustling to get contracts for my business.

something. almost, and at times, anything.

I recieved moments of grace from some wonderful people, like Kaz, who flew me in to sin fukcrisco twice. hes a great friend.

and ive done some couch surfing, some bush camping and been feral.

boy howdy.

and now I have a contract. A big one.

here's the PR and on that youll find a link to the schedule.

www.abundancepermaculture.com/78th.html

Im working again!

summer shugyo

4 men from the dojo

got up at 4am friday

to go

28 miles, 5 miles without anything but elk trails

to race a 4500' elevation gain,

with no food

for 24 hours

5 of which were spent practicing weapons or sitting in zazen

2 of which were rest periods- no sleep

friday was brilliant

the elk herd, the valley filled with fog, the sunlight through giant trees, the laughter of that stream, finding the hidden parkland 20 miles into the trip, the grueling last 3 miles with 1200 feet of elevation gain in the dark, pushing one another to find strength and beauty inside, to choose difficult now, so tomorrows troubles will be lessened

a fellowship of friends

shugyo

training the spirit

breaking the fast with rice, beans, and beer at 4am

and still sleep deficient, aching in a wonderful way

"For man, as for flower and beast and bird, the supreme triumph is to be most vividly, most perfectly alive."
DH Lawrence

alive

this was a parking lot, now its turned into a corn feild

www.abundancepermaculture.com/FOFI.html

a report on the future of farming in washington state.

funny thing, that.... Im kinda allergic to corn...

what is up, what is down?

dream last night: a gift from a stranger, a $5mil winning lotto ticket, already scratched.

knew it was a dream, woke up in dream, still dreaming, without the tix, went back to sleep in the dream, dreaming again, and found it... at least 3 times.


I finally got work. a contract is being written. designing a permaculture course for the local county. I have good support on this from local / regional folks. breathe. income starts in October.

meanwhile, it costs me $25 in gas for each aikido class I must drive to in order to teach; even as this happens the county parks and rec makes $350 a month on my work.

I just missed my bus. I have $12... and faith.

my camera is broken. above is the last picture i took, there were at least 25 of them, I couldnt get them all in one frame.

taken somewhere near home, in a galaxy far, far away...

THERE IS STILL TIME!

nov 18, 2008.

we can still realize the dream...

blog.modernmechanix.com/2008/0...r-2008/

thank you

www.youtube.com/watch

"he don't take nothin', not even a thank you."

http://www.abundancepermaculture.com/

www.abundancepermaculture.com/
oh yeah, did I mention,

www.abundancepermaculture.com/

I think I just got a contract

pinch me. I might have positive income in may and june, july if its all good....

in the spirit of not counting chickens before the eggs hatch and so on, ill leave it at that.