Rising Fall

Suggested soundtrack: Medicine by Daughter (Sound Remedy remix) 
or if you don't like techno remixes:
Medicine by Daughter (original)

 

“A person needs new experiences. They jar something deep inside, allowing him to grow. Without change, something sleeps inside us and seldom awakens. The sleeper must awaken.” 

- Dune

 

I gave a lecture in Wheaton, my old home, recently. It was great to see family and friends. The lecture itself was about Kundalini Awakening. You will be able to find it HERE when they post it if it is something that piques your interest.

The other lecture I gave was in Milwaukee entitled The Meaning of Suffering. It is ironic and interesting to me that this lecture is coupled with my first visit home in the Midwest after moving to sunny San Diego. So many people have seasonal affective disorder, and there is this somber overcast for many people in the Fall.

For me, however, October is my favorite month to be in a true Fall season. Not only is everything changing color but being German-Irish, I love the cold overcast. It is suitable that when everyone is depressed I feel very much alive.

I enjoy visiting study lodges, perhaps more than lecturing at the headquarters, because the format allows for more round table discussion. Because of the nature of the subject of suffering, it was even more important that I was upbeat and looked at all the touchy subjects with a sense of compassion. We shared stories about depression and seasonal affective disorder, we talked about the deaths of people close to us, and we talked about the idea of “have to's”.

I explained that the four noble truths the Buddha taught are about freedom from attachment, and we typically think of attachment as desire. “Have to” or “supposed to” is just as much an attachment, and while desire sends us seeking outward for gratification, holding ourselves and the rest of the world accountable to necessary standards leads to depression, because it fuels an anger that goes inward.

Another way of phrasing this is a quote that was once spoken to me: “The pursuit of justice is the end of spiritual growth.” Think on it.

A book I recommend, which I also talked a little about, is by the Theosophist, Vic Hao Chin, entitled The Process of Self Transformation. The intent of the book is to teach a technique purging oneself of stress, painful trauma, phobias, and anger. In essence, to expedite the freedom from suffering.

What I found remarkable about the book, and when I was actually taught the technique, is that it educates you on how suffering works from a spiritual and scientific perspective. The technique incorporates elements from Vipasana meditation, mindfulness practice, energy healing, cognitive psychology, and an understanding of the personal hierarchy of needs. It is also known, although not stated in the book, that there are a number of clairvoyants that Vic trusted who helped him as he was testing and constructing these practices which culminated in his work and the technique of 'processing'.

I've met Vic several times, including the opportunity to learn the technique from him in a class for about a week in Krotona. As I recall, this was almost 3 years ago and I was coming from visiting the San Diego monastery for the first time. I told John Drais where I was going, and he told me to say hi to Vic for him.

When I arrived at the large hall in Krotona I approached Vic and told him my name and that I worked at the national headquarters in Wheaton. He nodded and gave a polite smile, in typical reserved Vic Hao Chin manner. Then I said, “I have the privilege also of bringing greetings from John Drais at Madre Grande Monastery.” I think I may have tilted my head forward a little if I'm remembering it right, unnoticeable to the casual observer, but I was very much feeling like a formal messenger in the moment.

Vic's formal smile broke out into a completely unreserved one. “Oh!” he said, “You just came from the monastery?” I said that I had. “John is a longtime friend of mine, give him my best! How is he?” I said he was doing well. Vic smiled  and said “I am glad. Thank you.”

What I learned from Vic's class, and what I spoke of in both my lectures is the idea that understanding what we are, and how we work in a spiritual and energetic manner, can allow us to function more happily.

 

Past the Horizon

Soundtrack: The Call by Regina Spektor

My intention in what I write, as well as in what I do day to day, is to stay positive. So when I spend the good part of a month in politics, tying up loose ends here and there, or listening to various people vent about different things, it feels like a lot of uneventful stuff sometimes. Perhaps I have a selective memory about these things.

And yet, this was a very eventful month - some of which I would like to focus on more intently with actual narrative later, such as the dedication of the new labyrinth at Madre Grande monastery for the Autumnal Equinox.

The majority of this month was spent volunteering up at Far Horizons camp, and with settling many ongoing political disagreement regarding the wonderful place. I am happy to say that, despite the constant uphill, we are moving toward a good place. Next year the camp will have a more Theosophical focus, and there will be a carefully conducted election this year with the cooperation of everyone involved. At worst, we will have some debt to contend with, but I'll take that over arguing over who gets to be in charge.

Trin and I walking at the running stream off of Far Horizon property.

Another significant benefit of this whole Far Horizons business is that I got to know my Paracelsian Order brethren, Ken and Trin, much better. Ken and Trin became interested in being more involved with the camp since they live at the foot of the mountain in Fresno, to the point of starting a Fresno Theosophical study group. And Trin, being close to my age, has a similar interest as I do in bringing Theosophy to a younger crowd. As such, Trin and I both volunteered up at camp for awhile.

Ken and Trin are both awesome people, and I am glad Amber and I are brothers with them. That's enough to say for now, otherwise it might come off disingenuous.

Other things to be grateful for that happened this month in Amber and my settling into San Diego:

- Amber and I both have jobs. This is such a relief, and I feel as if I can begin focusing more on my mission in Theosophy.

- We have moved down from the mountain into a great place. It is an apartment in an old Victorian house, which is a joy for Amber to be in.

- I have created a curriculum of books to study up at Madre Grande and we have created a regular group to study that material.

- The United Lodge of Theosophists study branch near here has asked me to teach a class on the Mahatma letters.

- I have gotten to know some of the people in a Theosophical town in California.  It is called Halcyon, and the group is called the Temple of the People. They have been involved with Far Horizons for a few years now.
- I got to meet and talk with David Christensen at Far Horizons, who is a Theosophist that I have respected and wanted to meet for a little while now. Do read his article from Quest magazine.

Good things. It is almost time to really dig into my work. But for now, let us just focus on some pictures from Far Horizons, and be grateful for a wonderful opportunity that was granted to me, and the experience to observe all around me as it unfolded.

This tree was dedicated to the Theosophist Geoffrey Hodson (who I wrote an article on once).

The spiritual presence near this tree is palpable to many people who are near it.

A close up picture of the stream taken by Amber

Ken and Trin taking a picture with David Bruce, National Secretary of the TSA

Amber and I with David Bruce. It was good to see him again, as I did work with him for 4 years in Wheaton, IL.

Mount Silimon, a very visible mountain from Far Horizons.

I had fun.

Animals in my Backyard!

Here is my backyard! Lots of happy animals, and I enjoy interacting with them.

It's worth mentioning that Amber and I have learned a lot from being on this farm.  I came in as a vegetarian with an open mind. I'd like to still think I have an open mind, but I have stronger personal convictions on certain aspects of my lifestyle.

Amber and I watched the movie Babe the other night.  It was jarring for us, for a kids movie of all things. We've seen it before and it's a great movie, but during the scene where Farmer Hoggett is aiming his rifle at the unassuming Babe, ready to kill him... Well, Amber lost it entirely. If you recall, this is the exact manner, more compassionately than other farms I would add, in which they killed the pigs here. Amber said we can't stay here, which is something we've known for awhile. It's just a matter of time.

On a Theosophical topic, there's a thought in my head that I've been rolling over for a long time: Which is worse, karmically? Slaughtering animals or eating them? I'm sure there is a sutra on this, but I am exploring it for myself - in a way that is why I am here (on the farm and in life :P ).

The Theosophical view of not eating meat, or alchohol, or smoking is that it pollutes the body, which is the vehicle for the soul and the spirit.  In that sense, it's not wrong per se, but you're not doing yourself any favors by giving yourself another hurdle to overcome. The energy, the light, the grace (whatever you want to call it) that is constantly trying to be of help to you has more dross to try and work through just to get through to you.  If you are depressed, and you medicate yourself with alchohol and drugs, you're just perpetuating the problem.

So on this farm, I have felt that I have been covered in blood the entire time. It is just a feeling, as I am open to that stuff. Amber is less inclined toward the "woo woo" stuff, but she has started to notice it too. There's a heaviness in the air, even though this is a wonderful place and we enjoy it in other ways.  I love the animals themselves. But when we leave and come back, there it is. I'm not saying I have answers to any questions of "Is it better to this or that"; I have no interest in the hubris of certainty. But I definitely notice as one who does not eat meat, being on land with a slaughter grounds affects me.

Sorry to get heavy on the subject. We are very much having a wonderful time and are very happy. I only mention these things so that you can think about it for yourself. Maybe common experiences like this will help other people make positive decisions for themselves. Ok, I'm done with my soapbox.

Please do enjoy this video of animals in my backyard, I enjoy the critters, and I enjoyed making this video!

...But Not Too Far

Soundtrack:
Of Monsters and Men - Dirty Paws

Shortly before leaving from the Wheaton national headquarters of the Theosophical Society, I was elected to be on the board of directors for Far Horizons Camp in the Sequoias of California.  One of my intentions in coming out to California was to find different avenues of service, especially Theosophical ones.  Then suddenly the opportunity to help a Theosophical camp in California appears before me. My response was something like, "Well played, Universe. Well played."

Firstly, I am not one for drama, or even drama associated with politics.  I should say I don't like to dwell on it- I am beginning to gain some aptitude for the game, even though I am not interested in the game itself.  As such, I don't feel it is productive to describe all the details. But guess what? Drama bombs aplenty!

It is actually all very well and good.  Here's my view on political drama, especially in regards to spiritual or altruistic organizations: It is like any spiritual endeavor in that your flaws will rise and bubble to the surface.  It is your choice if you want to try and remove your impurities in the process or if you want to waste the opportunity.  If service is the goal, you will appreciate that you can refine yourself into a purer vessel.  But we all stumble, and usually a part of that stumbling is a regression into childlike emotion.

I am surrounded by people having childlike emotions. I have a few myself. But I really really want to see it clearly; I really want to just observe those around me who are having their issues triggered so I don't judge anything rashly, and so I can have the energy to observe myself,learn from it, and grow myself. In that sense, I am the happiest man alive right now.

Believe It!

On that note, Far Horizons is magical. This is a tag line I've been hearing people say as I made my way up to see it. And always with the same far off dreamy look in their eyes. I was piqued, but suspicious.

It's magical though. It is. Not because of the mountains or the redwood trees everywhere either. In some places there is manifested, by human devotion and spiritual practice, and by extra-human response to said devotion, a profound serenity. Far Horizons has that, despite that it just looks like a summer camp. And now I find myself working even harder to ensure this place retains its sense of wonder amidst the politics.

Amber and I also had the opportunity to spend some time with our Paracelsian brethren, Ken and Trin.  Ken and Trin are so much fun to be around. It is nice to have that community of people in the same position you are, who just want to grow spiritually and to help.  We got to visit Ken and Trin's Live Oak Monastery in San Luis Obispo, which is also magical.  We got to imbibe many flavors of magic on this trip. We really need to muggle it up for the next few weeks just to re-adjust.

Dirty Paws

As we had an adventure, so too did the Chronicles of Brutus continue.  Before the trip he met Sunny, the dog that just showed up at Madre Grande Monastery a few years ago, and has decided to live up to his name ever since. We visited to Monastery right after a sweat lodge, so that we could visit our friends Luis and Ciarra, so Brutus suddenly had a fan club of young people who wanted to see how soft his fur was. He felt this was well overdue that people should line up to pet him.

When we were on the road, we found him a sitter, but that doesn't quite do it justice. We found him a person who has devoted her life turning her home into a rabbit resort, and she just so happens to live near the beach in the upscale town of La Jolla. We will definitely use her again. Brutus was significantly less angry at us than he usually is when we leave town.

One Mountain, Many Perspectives

Soundtrack:
Gipsy Kings cover Hotel California

Theosophists Assemble!

The conclave was afoot.  I did not know the word "conclave" a year ago, but it is much like other impressive words, words like oubliette, catacomb, and autodidact.  These words sound wholly serious, though I would be hard pressed to understand the meaning just by sounding it out.

A conclave is a meeting.  Traditionally one where hard decisions need to be made, to the point where everyone is locked in until a common decision is made. Luckily for the Paracelsian Order, we are all enlightened people and therefore agree on everything, because we can see every eventuality spanning out in front of us like a map across space and time.

Wouldn't that be something?  Actually, the annual Paracelsian Order conclave met at Madre Grande Monastery on June 29th, and there were many ideas and much altruistic passion.  It was great to meet new people, all of us inspired by esoteric teachings and by living according to Theosophical principles.

What's more, is that Amber and I got to walk there through the mountain path leading from our place to the monastery.  We were wandering up just as they were blowing the conch shell to start the conclave.

I was especially happy to meet Allison and Karina this visit, as well as Ken's husband Trin.  Ken and Trin run the Live Oak Monastery in San Luis Obisbo. And of course, I was happy to see Ken, Sally, Monica, Marty, and Jonathan again.  Sunny the dog was also in attendance, but from just outside the glass door to the patio.

What was also nice is that we all knew John Drais, and it is amazing to me that one man can inspire such a forward momentum of dedicated people.  That was kind of the point of this conclave. How can all of us pick up the slack so we move forward successfully?  Even though Amber and I just got here, we are just as willing as everyone else, but talking to everyone and getting their perspective on things helps us all work better as a team and as a family. It's a nice feeling. Also, I am confident Sally will lead things well, especially with Monica to help her.

There Will Be Blood!

Meanwhile, back at the farm, preparations were being made for a July 4th party. What this meant is that there was going to be a smoked pig.  And where do pigs come from? The farm! And where are they bled out and butchered? About 20 feet from where we are temporarily residing! Yaaaay!

To begin with, our landlords, Don and Renee are extremely kind and generous people.  I like them. I think they like us, but they are of course wary of vegetarians since they raise and slaughter their own animals.  I made them feel a little easier after telling them I used to be a cook and learned to do some butchery myself.  Then Don asked me if I could help him bring the pig down to the slaughter area so he could shoot it in the head.

My first thought was something along the lines of that elevator scene in The Shining. I wanted nothing to do with the whole idea.  Then I wondered how I got to be so pretentious.  It was an inner dialogue thing going on.

A part of the reason Amber and I became vegetarians in the first place was because of the way meat is mass manufactured which leads to prolific animal abuse.  These good people treat their animals very well.  They are happy animals, cruelty free. So in the spirit of learning new things I helped Don bring the pig down, but nothing after that.  Amber and I would take Brutus on a park adventure so he didn't have to hear gunshots and smell buckets of blood all day.  I can only imagine what our landlords think of the way we treat our rabbit like a child.

Long story short, moving the pig messed with me a little bit.  It screamed! We put it in a mobile cage and it pressed its face against the bars and screamed bloody murder. If I was the type of person to tell myself "This is the way it is. Humans eat pigs, and they scream. Get used to it." Well, then I would desensitize myself to it, wouldn't I? Several years ago I was often wrist deep in animal blood just to make a meal and it wouldn't phase me.  Now I don't eat meat, and I know there's another way to live. And this screaming pig, banging himself against the mobile fence as we walked it down to the gallows was a little disturbing to me.

I guess I'll leave it at that. I'm not a preachy vegetarian, just a guy with an occasional story to tell.

To update on a happy note. Even though Brutus and all of us are adjusting to the heat, it does get cool in the evening.  This means every sunset we let him out to run around and he has a whole field to frolic and play in, only under our supervision though, obviously.  There are other wild bunnies in the field too, but they haven't socialized yet. Brutus enjoys his free time thoroughly, and he's shedding more and more every day.  He may acclimate to the mountains sooner than we do.

Bonus song: Gorillaz - Mountain Called Monkey

"Polish comes from the cities, wisdom from the desert."

Soundtrack:

Jose Feliciano cover of California Dreamin'

The California border has a checkpoint where they check what animals and plants (or flora and fauna if you're cool) you may be bringing in.  California is an odd bird for many reasons, and this is just one of them. Lucky for us, we picked one of the lanes where no one was there to check us. If there was, they would have looked into our car and seen a white rabbit with red eyes doing one of his classic 'I didn't do it!' stares he is so well known for.  Then where would we be?

Probably still fine, but it's a funny image I like to think about.

Immediately, blindingly so, after the Arizona desert is green! California grows a lot of produce, and there were growing fields as well as palm trees right away. I don't know why palm trees suddenly begin in California, probably some artificial reason I don't want to think about (a la the movie Chinatown), but they're everywhere.

As you drive through the fields of whatever crops they grow, blissful things like strawberries, there are suddenly no longer the same green bugs squishing into your windshield at high speeds.  Like many things on the trip, this bug smashing is something I became so used to that I noticed immediately when it stopped.  I felt I was in a magical place.  Then I knew I was in a magical place, because there were these little yellow butterflies everywhere around me.  In the fields, around the road... and then squishing into my windshield.  Not green bugs, but little yellow butterflies now.

I wondered to myself, is this a good sign? Is this a bad sign? I am squishing beautiful butterflies now - are they some welcoming gift to me or am I angering the blissful yellow god of sunshine by running into his yellow minions? After enough dead butterflies are on your windshield you begin wondering why they can't figure out the trend going on and avoid the road.

We stopped at a gas station. There was a lot of young people sitting around doing drugs, which really bothered me, because I'm getting old I guess.  Then there was this old homeless guy with a friendly white beard collecting cans in a grocery cart. I think it was the beard that did it but I approached him and gave him a little money. I never know the rules on that sort of thing, but I needed to do something nice for someone because I was so tired from travelling, if that makes any sense at all. When I shook his hand, he smiled at me and looked me in the eye and said, "You are welcome!"

And I was! I felt good after that. He was a nice guy, I think. I hope he did something good with it.

Then Amber and I went through a vast hilly backroad that was leading to the deserts of California. There was a yellow traffic sign before that said "dips ahead". We speculated how bad the dips, whatever those were, had to be for there to be a sign.  Very bad, apparently. Dips are just up and down hills, as we learned.

This is also a foreshadowing to the kind of winding bumpy roads that some Californians are used to. On the mountains, for example, people drive roads I would have once considered very unsafe. They think they are perfectly acceptable, and my mountain landlords refer to any paved road as highways. I think they are savages, and I refer to them as Wildlings when I speak of these people to Amber. Although I suspect that one day their ways may become my ways.

By this time Brutus had become good at maneuvering different roads in his seat so he didn't get sick. What I mean is that on the first day, he would have just looked scared at less than smooth roadways. Now, when things got choppy, he turned himself around so he was facing the seat for better traction, and he would bob and weave with the motion of the car. He developed this technique on his own.  I imagine him thinking, "I am a leaf on the wind. I am a leaf on the wind," to himself as we drove through the up and down wasteland.

Then we straightened out on the road, and as we began to have a moment to look around I felt very peaceful.  This was the California desert. I pulled over with Amber and the hot burning wind and white sand just felt so purifying to me. I took a few pictures, and we moved on. Even stranger still, the "desert" as we thought we had been in became moreso. It was all sand dunes and this one road we were on.

Amber and I both stopped again.  I looked at her and said, "Where are we?" She shrugged. We both were thinking it was like Saudi Arabia only in California. I'm looking at a map now, and it had to be the Glamis Dunes on Rte 78. I need to go back there, just to prove that it was real. It's amazing.

It was nighttime when we finally started going up the mountain to our place. Brutus starting really doing his maneuvers, because the roads kept moving back and forth, winding up. Then we went through the rocky pathways and our new landlords showed us where we would sleep.  We slept for about a day, and Brutus laid down in the same spot for at least two day.

I am not cut out to be a nomad, but it was a wonderful journey.  We will see if Amber and I are cut out to live like these Wildlings up here.

Thin Red Rock Line

Sountrack
Remix of  Red Hot Chili Peppers - Road Trippin'

Every state is different in the Southwest. From Texas to California, as soon as you cross the border it is like entering a different way of looking at life. I did not expect this, because the Midwest is a series of crop farms, flatlands, sometimes a deciduous forest.

After leaving Dallas I really enjoyed the fields with large tufts of green grass, and cows grazing on them in clustered formations.  When we entered New Mexico there was a gradual buildup to the red rocked hills, slowly with hills and equally spaced apart bushes then giving way to the sparse tree here and again. The occasional towns we came across had a little more creative flair, mostly being artistic interpretations of Southwestern Chicano culture or something regarding the Native Americans way of life.

Once we really started enjoying the New Mexican landscape, the billboards abruptly and startlingly began. Amber and I were on the phone in our separate cars at the time, then we saw about five billboards in a row advertising the same rest stop area which was coming up soon.  The first one was about ice cream, the next was about Native American jewelry, then hand made blankets or ponchos, etc.

It's worth mentioning that Amber and I are both susceptible to marketing, but we have different preferences. I did not care about these New Mexican kitsch things at all, and once they got to the 20th or 30th (not exaggerating) billboard in a row, I was actually a little offended.  Amber on the other hand, said over the phone, "I think we need to stop at this place!"

I said, "No, I won't be tricked into buying crap just because they use excessive advertising."

We were both exhausted. Our defenses were low.

"It's starting to work on me!" she told me. "I need to buy gifts and postcards for people. Let's just pull over."

I knew they completely got her when she said, "That billboard says they have 'cool things,' I need to know what the cool things are."

About twenty minutes later, Brutus and I were laying in the one spot of grass we could find in the large parking lot. He sat under the one tree he could find, and I near him, staring at a clear blue sky past the branches while eating a $3.50 grilled cheese (because a lot of restaurants don't know what to charge me when I ask for items without meat).

At some point I called Amber again to see how things were going in the store, and she was very excited about the stuffed bear they had, and the stuffed buffalo, and the many sarapes they had. We agreed she could take as much time as she wanted and I stared again at the sky through my sunglasses, cars driving past my little grass island wondering where the strange bearded man and his rabbit came from.  I looked over at Brutus who was glued to the tree and eating some kind of prolific plant I never saw before.  I hoped he wasn't poisoning himself, but I didn't want to stop him from the little enjoyment he had. Instead, I felt the logical thing to do was eat some of the plant as well; better we both die together.  This is what made sense to me in the heat. I concluded it actually tasted pretty good and reached for some more. Eventually Amber came to collect us and we continued.

Arizona

All of this stuff is just my observation.  From a highway trip, no less. Every state has myriad places to enjoy and different culture. Who am I to judge any experience of an entire state from my brief time there? That being said, when we first entered Arizona I was completely let down. I made a fool of myself later in my immediate judgement, but when we crossed the border from New Mexico to Arizona it wend from red rocked cliffs to flat dead grass and pebbly roads.

Remember Spike, Snoopy's cousin from Peanuts? I know he lived in the California desert, but the cactus landscape looked exactly like the Arizona licence plates, so that's what I expected. This is paper thin logic, I know, but what can I say.

We got to Flagstaff and stayed the night there. At the time it felt like a small town with a mountain looming overhead, which was kind of interesting in a way. I mentioned on facebook that I was a little disappointing with Arizona, and a few friends including the far better traveled than I, Brandis, explained to me about Flagstaff being quite popular for the mountains and the forests.  She also told that there is much more to Arizona (like Sedona) to be seen and enjoyed.

I suspected I was going to learn not to judge so quickly, and I was. The next day's drive was amazing! The area around Flagstaff (on the Western side of it anyway) was very pretty with the mountains and the many evergreen forests. Originally we were going to go the Grand Canyon too, but we decided with a bunny patiently riding shotgun and our time schedule, we should come back when we could actually appreciate it.

The rest of Arizona had winding red stone mountains, very impressive and festive towns, and we saw many cactus covered hills. At one point the view became so amazing that Amber and I both pulled over at the same time, because we both had the idea to take pictures. That was fun.

As we crossed the desert before entering California I thought about how terrible it would be to break down there. It was so hot! There was a beauty to it, but I also felt like many people may have died of thirst crawling through this desert at some point. Occasionally there would be an abandoned building for no reason, or a hollowed out auto body shop just left there with no one caring enough to even bulldoze it to the ground.  Just the shells were left. It was kind of fascinating.

Then we crossed into California, which was actually quite surreal, but I'll post about that next time.  For now, the lesson of the day is don't think you know everything about a place at first glance, you'll just look stupid... except for Arizona, which I will forever refer to as a either the disappointing East Arizona or majestic West Arizona. The other lesson is that I never learn lessons.