Journey to Paradise Canyon

Short of time this morning. Big day in the market. Way shorthanded, town swarming with Spring Breakers, snow bunnies, and no moneys. 

Right before my bath I took a perspective check by going to Google Earth and taking myself way up. just east of Taos Ski Valley, then flying on down over our house, across town, and up into Rio Chiquito Road, to Paradise Canyon where the two mountain lions welcomed me me town. Here's an excerpt from Theater of Clouds - a Near Death Memoir:

"I walked the bike around the stump and then rode up to find a little campground. There was a meadow, along the right side of the road, with some ATV tracks heading down to the river. It felt like a good place to rest and have some lunch. I’d packed a little hard sausage, some cheese, bread, and Gatorade. The opposite bank of the river was crusted with deep snow, yet the day was fairly warm. It was a perfect setting for my elevated mood. This was a place physically far removed from society. All the prattle of thoughts about and from depression, and the difficulties of dealing with people, seemed like nothing greater that bland, nagging whispers.

"That brief sojourn in the serene alpine forest lasted about an hour. The late afternoon brought a rise in the wind, as it ventured up canyon with a deep chill on its face. This was early April, but winter was not gone from this high place. So I put on the heavy WoolRich shirt I had in my backpack, along with sweat pants, and headed back down. Before getting too far along, I spied some movement in the forest, next to the road. A three point buck mule deer stood among the trees, gazing back at me, so I stopped the bike to return the gaze. Something at my feet caught my attention, and when the deer wandered off out of sight, I looked down. There were bits of fur and other debris that looked as if it had come from a kill. My gut impression was that I had found the remains of an old cougar kill. The timing was eerie: seeing the live deer and the remains of the dead deer concurrently. Life and death converged at that spot. But I didn’t see it as an omen. My oversight was corrected within minutes.

"By the time I got back to the main forest road, the wind had become strong and cold. What I was not prepared for was the steepness of the road. While I was ascending the perspective just didn’t show the severity of the incline. But as I began to coast down that hill, through Paradise Canyon, it became quite clear that I would need to lightly ride the brakes to maintain a feeling of safety and control. Maybe two hundred yards along, I spied more movement.

"Something was moving across the road. My first impression confused me: I found myself wondering what house cats were doing in the high mountains. I let go of the brakes while I tried to get a fix on just what sort of animals were crossing the road in front of me. My speed was about 18 mph when I began to impulsively look to both shoulders of the road, in case I needed to swerve to avoid a collision. By the time I finished that fruitless analysis the animals had stopped, dead center, in the road. They were gazing purely at me and I was approaching them at 18 mph with no prudent means of escape. Their majesty made me forget the danger if for only a moment.

"They were cougars, apparently a mated pair. He was a big animal, about 150 pounds, perhaps 30 inches at the shoulders. She was about 2/3 that size, but still plenty big enough to account for the fear stirring in my gut. My choices were not good ones. Left or right would have meant injury to me. I was moving too fast to turn around in time. The cougars were standing still gazing at me. It was clear that I could do nothing except go straight ahead and hope for the best. If they wanted me, they would have me. It would be an easy kill, when the prey was fast approaching instead of sensibly retreating. A feeling of ineffable peace came over me.

"The cougars looked as surprised as I felt. As I looked into their eyes, time slowed down. I was in the presence of divinity. Suffused with this sense of divine encounter, I accepted that I might die very soon.

When I was about 30 yards from the cats, they turned effortlessly and began to trot back up the slope to the right. Their retreat was strangely casual. They repeatedly glanced back over their shoulders in unison as they climbed back up the ridge. To call them graceful would be a gross understatement. The perfection of their movements, as well as of their stillness before the retreat, is far beyond my ability to describe. All the way back home, I was in some gentle form of shock. Part of me was certain that they would chase me down and have me for dinner. That notion did not disperse until I arrived back home."

Upon Sleeping Late

I admit to being rather blunt at times. I'm getting better, don't worry. But the bluntness seems to remain in a steady state. Choking it back is all ya can do. People are such sensitive critters, but more so, it seems, to imagined slights and less so to the actual dynamic of the relationship in progress. Mine?

Rosie the cat is on my lap. This hasn't happened in a long time, not, anyway, while I am writing. I like it. She is such a beautiful animal, has that wild cat look, and let me tell you, the requisite instincts are there emerging at a moment's notice. What's really nice is that even though Mr. Sky the magnificent rat terrier loves to hound the cat she is ever reserved in not pulling out the many sharp points she has at her disposal. Her version of choking it back. Hiss but never draw blood.

Here's my new favorite song. The soul and spirit that is expressed here is tremendous . . .

The Positive Law of Attractive Chicanery

Enter bluebirds. They've been hard at it, building a new nest. I cleaned out the house for them since the house finches had occupied it after the bluebirds had two broods. That was last Spring. Spring again, ya know. Yesterday I saw a mockingbird, first of the season, probably just back from Puerto Vallarta. Their kind was not supposta be here in Nuevo Mexico del Norte. This will be the third year now that we have hosted the Florida State bird at our humble place on the mesa. Apparently they don't give a fig about the Audubon  Society and their habitat survey results. I, for one, welcome them. I've missed them. There is no champion for exuberance above the mockingbird. They nail it!

Look at that! That's our house, front and center. The rest is merely context (wink, wink). I could go on and on in describing some of the features but for some reason I am remembering my friend Chris emerging from a glorious sunrise allocation of orange clouds above the sacred mountain. Chris in his ultralight aircraft, camera in hand, was a surprise to me. I was out there, with the camera as well, when I heard the tiny buzz of the plane's motor within the sounds on sunrise. He'd been out over yonder mountains, just for fun, I reckon. No, really, go have a look at Chris' photography: click here. He knows the beauty of the realm as well as I do. Probly more.

I've got a tub full on water and minerals to immerse in momentarily. Achin' back and all. Then on to work for a closing shift at the store. Spring breakers are here so it will be busy, entertaining, and ripe with images for this old camera of a brain. I know, I know: "old" is a state of mind. Well, uh - duh. Most of it is, as far as perception goes. We get the input and what we do with it is pretty much up to us. Judging by the state of the world today I reckon that we ain't quite got the hang of this instant creation thingy. I ain't talking' 'bout the kind of Positive Law of Attractive Chicanery that killed them folks down in Sedona, Arizona, a couple of years back. That has been really haunting me since it happened. James Arthur Ray got his due and is doing it too. He is likely forgiven for his misunderstanding of his own ego. 

What haunts me is the seeming voluntary blindness in dealing with the dark side, in dealing with the fact that a human attempting to mold the Universe to their own puny ideas is like - ummm, it's like, ya know . . . . . . Mark Twain said it best" A man who carries a cat by the tail learns something that he can learn in no other way".

That's where I'm at this morning as I head for my bath. Terence McKenna had a better idea when he cast forth a metaphor of "hacking the mainframe". We can reach in and tinker with the inner workings of the cosmos. But to only accept positive results is akin to stupidity. The Universe? This thing is bigger than you realize. And it is not only around you. It is within you as well. Boy howdy! Ain't ya figured that out yet? No matter. It happens anyway. You are not the only one. Peace out, y'all!

A Goddess, Her Dog, and a Bomb

I walked until I heard gunshots. Time to turn around and go home. Nothing serious, the police firing range is just south of here, yonder beyond the Taos airport, out near the landfill, or dump, or whatever they call it now. The landfill is where they detonated that mysterious pipe bomb that they removed from a fella's truck. I'd heard the rumors, all true it seems, that they'd closed down Civic plaza Drive, which is where the cop shop is, for several hours to await a bomb squad from the State Capitol. This fella, a local newbie business man, had noticed the odd addition to the frame of his pickup truck, right next to the gas tank. So he hopped in, started the engine, and drove over to the cop shop to report it. I was at work but drove home for lunch. On my way back to work I saw them coming, a convey carrying the pipe bomb out to the landfill for prudent detonation: two New Mexico State police cruisers, four or five unmarked vehicles, two ambulances, a rescue truck, and the ladder truck from the volunteer fire department. It was a chilling sight indeed, and a chilling thought - he actually turned on the ignition with a suspected bomb right there next to his gas tank? Don'tcha jest love small town life? Woof!

So, anyway, I was out walking in the late afternoon, along the mesa trail out back of the house. Vast expanses to view out there, and if I shift my perception 'just so' I can buffer the fact that it is not really far removed from civilization, such as it is. I walked farther than I have before, well beyond the crossroads where another old cart trail runs perpendicular to the main trail. When I heard the gunshots I decided to turn around and head home. As I did so I heard some big dog barking, over toward the firing range. I turned and looked, and could see the little spot of buff fluff bouncing within the sage field. It looked like a golden retriever, but too far away to be positively identified. I was keeping a brisk pace, trying to walk out the kinks from being all scrunched and bent for the three hours it took to assemble my new cherry wood desk. Manufactured wood, they call it, from some outfit up in Quebec. Beautiful product and simple assembly instruction, but this old body was sure it was supposta rest on it's day off from work and there I was, working it some more.

Passing down through a deep but gentle arroyo I once again came to the crossroads, where there is an inadvertent monument composed of an ancient Kenwood stereo receiver, complete with vacuum tubes, and an accompanying Gerrard turntable. I wandered off trail to contemplate the equipment, which is tattered with age but is still clearly identifiable, then returned to the trail, headed uphill toward home. Suddenly a strange sound came from behind me. Had that barking dog crossed a half mile of sage fields to chase me? Heavy breathing.

I turned to see a beast approach at high speed. It wasn't the retriever but what it did appear to be startled the bejeezes out of me. After all, there are not supposed to be any wolves around these parts. No anymore. Not yet. I mean, they were here, years ago, and there is an effort underway to restore the population. The big animal was running right at me, along one track in the cart trail. I stood in the other track, jaw hanging open. I called out, "Hey buddy!" in hopes of belaying any hostility the beast might be carrying, and I had my walking stick primed and ready to smack the critter if need be. But it ran right by. We had solid eye contact, enough so that I could see the intelligence in those amber eyes. 

I watched it run away, incredulous in my demeanor. It was up near the top of the rise before I pulled out my camera. Odd too, he stopped and turned around when I pulled out the camera. Around 100 meters away, he turned around and posed for the snapshot then resumed running at a much faster pace after the shot was taken, then shifting into a loping sprint, only to vanish in the sage brush.

All the way home I was stock sure it had been a wolf, or at least a hybrid. I know people who keeps domestic wolves. But there was no collar. My imagination said "wolf". But when I downloaded the photos I saw the dog: still a stunning sight. And I was still feeling that the encounter had been magical. I was just beyond the crossroads when the dog appeared. Crossroads are where the goddess Hecate lives, she and her dogs. Was that Hecate's dog I saw? 

In the imaginal world a dog can be a dog AND the escort of an old Titan goddess that lives in modern times as the Wiccan Queen. Both/and. Not like the old paradigm's either/or. The imaginal intelligence does not need material reality but it can express through material reality on an "as needed" basis.

I am at a crossroads in my own life as well, so there's yer psychobabble right there! Yup. Life feeds back meaning in some pretty odd and interesting ways! That was some pretty animal out there, and I am grateful for his expert posing job. I am grateful to the goddess as well, in a world where guns and pipe bombs are a part of daily life.

A note: I see many new readers have been to this blog since Dan Mitchell gave me a shout out. Y'all stick around then come back. I'll se iffin I can keep y'all entertained, K? Thanks, Dan.

Angels in the Real World

I finally found my copy of The Physics of Angels by Matthew Fox and Rupert Sheldrake. I'd given it up as lost. Yesterday, in a fit of adult responsibility I decided to go through a couple of the remaining boxes from the stuff mom left behind. One of those boxes turned out to be predominantly rubbish that was collected in the days after the van came through the wall of the house in Talpa, where I was living with mom. This is one of those funny yet mildly disturbing synchronicities. Those of you who have read my book, Theater of Clouds may remember that I was sitting at my computer at 8 AM on a totally peaceful Monday morning when there van came through the wall, nearly hitting me - and I was reading about angels! So amongst the rubbish that was in that box yesterday I found what? A book on angels. Go figure. I hear that sweet giggling voice at the top of my brainstem. She who giggles, Brigid, was there that day, showing me how to sidestep physical harm by sidestepping physical reality with a little two-step move that phases the corporeal unit slightly out of range of the predominating force of the moment. The photo above shows what was wrought by that predominating force. That's a wood stove and a natural gas wall heater among the rubble. The man that captained this disaster thankfully still lives. His heart stopped right before he came through the wall, and the impact of van against wall restarted his heart. Boom. Just like that.

Also in that box of mostly rubbish I found these photos, and others, from that accident. I had given them up as lost. Go figure. Here's a look at my desk, wherein you can see that the solid adobe brick construction right behind my chair saved me from certain death. 

The hole in the wall is where they'd used a wood frame add-on that they filled with stones and hay. Those stones were blasted through the room like buckshot, along with the splintered wood and chunks of plaster. Am I a lucky guy or what?!

Now, about the angels. That accident, that day, opened my sight to the broader range of intelligence and being that pervades this world. I like to call it the Dreamtime, or the Imaginal World. If you'd like to read more about this otherworldly stuff I can highly recommend Dan Mitchell's Well of High Strangeness blog. My explorations of these other realms are purposefully  directed toward NDE's and the related fields, but I have experienced much more in these realms that really rankled my ideas of what reality was and is like. Here's an example.

Yesterday morning I stopped at a major supermarket to do a little shopping. Cat food and ham steaks in hand I stood befuddled before the selection of beer, trying to find something new and interesting. For a long time I stood, then finally deciding to try an ale from Oregon labels "Falconer's IPA". Playfully I thought that maybe it would invoke a falcon sight on the way home. Such sightings are quite rare but them critters do live around here. So coming home I turn onto the long gravel road leading to our house. About halfway to the house I notice something in the road. Since I drive it nearly every day I know what manner of stuff is where. This was something new, out of place. I slowed the car and watched intently as I approached the thing, which suddenly took to flight, circled up and around to fly across the hood of my car, then rocketing out of sight. What was it? A peregrine falcon. 

What I am so inadequately trying to describe here is the same sort of thing that allows me to interact with wild animals, predominantly coyotes and ravens, but there are others. The point is that we live in a sentient world of rich, diverse, and glowing consciousness. We are not, like, ya know, some kind of special beings who are privy to the use of this world, we are a living breathing expression of this world. This world sings us into being along with all of them other critters, varmints, and spooky things as well.

So here we are. I've got 3.5 hours before I have to be at work, extolling the virtues of the organic food venue wherein I get the distinct honor of having some 200 lovely humans pass before my eyes each day, and said audience is one that I cherish with all my heart and soul. Sure, they pay me for this. That's not the point. Money is a nice and convenient coincidence, but it is still a coincidence. Lest ye be entertaining angels unaware, venture ye not forth unto the marketplace without first considering that you never know who, or what, will happen along. Could be a famous movie star, or it could be a true Bodhisattva. Or it could a regular fella. The point is that magic pervades this world. Have a look. Ask to be shown. You might be surprised.

Self-Reflection in the Virtual World

2:49 AM Mountain Standard Time. The soft ticking of the Sharp double bell ringer facsimile old school alarm clock is about the only sound at the moment, besides my hesitant breathing.  Occasionally I can hear a servo motor back in the utility room, designating that the thrifty use of the radiant floor heat is active. The wood pellet stove is off for a change, so its rattle and hum doth not brandish noise upon my sensitive hearing. Having slept through most of yesterday (Sunday) I ventured a shift at work this morning and made it through four hours before it became clear that I could not complete the shift. Came home, Carol made me/us a bowl of Raman noodle soup, and I kicked back on the couch under mom's old blanket to peruse the Netflix menu on our Smart TV. Found an engrossing documentary of Crop Circles that thrilled me with its intelligence. What's going on there is beyond my ken, but the signs of exquisite intelligence is pervasive, and compelling. 

My illness of the past few days is bothersome, sure, but I do not doubt that it is real and appropriate to my environment. The chasm between image and actuality in the workplace is one huge stressor. Another is the amount of electromagnetic field radiation that surrounds me every day. It's not so bad at home. Not bad at all. But I also shy away from the virtual world that we have to deal with. I recently spoke of the iPhones and Androids, texting and in diligence in electronic codependence via spoken word. So much of what you hear day to day is drawn from buzzwords and other manifestations from the pop currents that keep us logged in perpetually. Sigh.

Last night I showed Mr. Sky a photo of his own self on the iMac. He seemed to be quite aware that it was him but was perplexed by the lack of smell. That now shown I can lay down on the couch and sleep for a while until Carol gets up to prepare for work. I've the the day off, so rest will be had and hopefully my cerebral functions will be back on line. The massage and energy work I had lately really highlighted the degree to which I bootstrapped myself right after mom died five years ago. That toxic shit never leaves without us doing the work, so its a comin'  at me now. I welcome it. Ugh! 

The Terrier in Me

Behold the terrier! Handsome old fella, no? Now what could I possibly want to write about a dog this morning? The sun is just about to crest the canyon over yonder on the Rez, which I usually like to call the Taos Pueblo Nation. I've been awake for forty minutes now but still groggy from a weekend of sickness and sleep.. My chest aches and my head hurts. The coffee tastes great but the caffeine seems to be benign.

I watched "Rise of the Planet of the Apes" on Saturday night. Interesting movie. Could have been better, I suppose, but I ain't no movie aficionado. It's been decades now since I could still look at an animal and see it as a lesser being while taking my opinion seriously enough to believe that said opinion was true. In fact, ever since the head trauma back in 1984 I pretty much take all beings to be equal in intelligence. I can't really expound on that notion right now. Time restraints and the day job, ya know. In fact, I'd better hit the shower pronto, but the notion of intelligence as expressed by Spirit is one that I have fallen into contemplating whether I like it or not. In six weeks I will be attending the International Conference on After Death Communications, mostly to hear Dr. Eban Alexander speak, but I also feel it deep in my shamanic heart: this conference will change my life.

So I gotta go shower and brush my teeth and put on a presentable persona to take forth into the marketplace today. They are letting me work a morning shift at the store on a Monday! I love it, of course, but such a change in the status quo really makes me nervous. Maybe it's just the terrier in me. I'm not content unless I dig once in a while.