a good day to live

going offline for a few days as i travel

brezny says to embrace the unknown in the coming weeks

i'm right on that one

moving out tomorrow

not sure where i'm driving to yet

chico would likely mean some mechanical support

but possible trouble with california state personnel

a straight shot to new mexico seems lighter

assuming the van's good to go

the convertible i guess stays here for the time being

-----

is it just me

or is society quickly reaching a point of maximum chaos

i can no longer rationally make sense of anything

what to do or where to do it or how to make anything fit

i came here with benevolent intention to support family

and i worked until i could work no more

and it has led me here to this crossroad

where i know only this:

friends have passed on in a heartbeat

teaching me there are no guarantees of future moments

only this one

and that i am to commit to it fully

so now i practice compassion in each moment

and pray

for the greatest good to manifest

due

what a world

seems like the conspiracies are becoming infinitely more obvious each passing day, guess the shadow government banksters are just going for total control now, feels like we're a breath away from totalitarianism

homeless people everywhere, begging on every corner and all down the street, dollar due for devaluation within the year at the very outside

chinese american war games, and your choice between xrays or getting fondled at airports--but then you know a wonderful new solution is coming along for the t s a, in just the right time:

can you say biometrics?

depression is rampant, with the sensitives overwhelmed, and the middle-class maxed out

we all need to get a lot smarter

fast

-----

i can indulge in righteousness, with the overlords just throwing the bullshit in the people's faces day after effin day, i want to yell do you think we're idiots!

but they don't care what anyone thinks, they just know they have all the access routes to power--to having a voice--controlled now, except the internet

for another moment

-----

what's your plan? be off-grid? grow food? what's your niche in the underground economy? or will you get out before the borders close? maybe emigrate to Lakota?

i'm just trying to play music on the street, but they keep moving me along

fortunately the miracle waves are also ramping up

the way of separation is collapsing

and the end of time

is due

transformations

i live in two universes

one but a moment's breath above the other

in the higher i am already a healer

a teacher and in touch with the ancestors

that dimension is peaceful

its rhythm can be found in the waves on the water

ever manifesting earth-heartbeat in infinite shapes

each moment's manifestation unique

its name is compassion

-----

in the other i work

ceaselessly for the esteem with which to exist

and i am but a dreamer or worse

overwhelmed by the complexities of mammon

a worm sometimes mighty

himself polarized between so much exercise

and near-idle ineptitude

while imagining the place beyond

a butterfly-dreaming cocoon

-----

the first door is called passion

and i have crashed myself upon it

until both shoulders have become battered

yet not without the satisfaction

of the well-spent youth of a running back

with a taste for invading the lords' castles

the second i call beauty

though nameless and infinite

it arises in the quiet

of a hard-won discipline

a rational mind calmed to stillness

and incessantly reminded

it need not track every rabbit

for the evening's meal

and that as the spaciousness of calm

arises with the breath

so does the wolf's passion

descend

-----

to my friend Ken

now transformed

may these tears further you on the journey

with all this love you unassumingly gifted

thank you for not only the rich flowing content

some thirty years a witness for peace

along with an otter's playfulness

in the river that was your life

but also for a spiritual mentorship

around the transformational nature of things

whose depths i wasn't fully cognizant of

until now

sounds

taking a break from the stupid day

after making myself a little sick eating

more ice cream than you care to know

and having dastardly dreams

filled with self-jackaling

i finished the ice cream this morning

with the morning coffee

then proceeded to journal incessantly

for hours about interesting stuff

before finally strapping on the guitar

and going down to the street to busk

and having pleasant response

to the melodies of my first six-string busk

three bucks in 20 minutes

and my voice brought more smiles than that

until a bunch of kids with a drum

joined me enthusiastically

catching the ear of a neighboring business

which then shooed me off

probably illegally

so i moseyed the rest of the way

to Donna's van by the beach

she was tearful but glad to see me

still processing the shock that comes along with

waking to the sound

of six cops pounding on the metal

of your van at dawn

and yelling at you to get up

my friend was both strong and wise

in neither reacting nor interacting

and hence contracting with them

for they were obviously not extending

any kind of invitation toward mutuality

i'm guessing if she was cooperative

she would have been arrested on the spot

like so many others lately

for sleeping

we empathized a bit

and walked to autozone

i played blackbird

while she sought to follow up

with an offer of someone's friend to

repair the stuck van for barter

but who has for several days been unavailable

and will try again to connect tomorrow

rain in the forecast

i walked home to drop the guitar

finally see a van in my range on craigslist

only to now hesitate and wonder if i really want it

my friend onward to free pie advertised at the church

and a country music concert

to which i followed with the fiddle

long enough to find my friend gone

and sniff out a likely

proselytization

along with a pie eating contest

involving a scary temptation to overeat

which could harm a shrunken-stomach transient

trust ice cream boy on this one

back home to drop the fiddle

and tired from walking

grabbed the bike to head back to the beach

and see if Donna got the van moved

my rear tire flat from a slow leak

i stop at the corner gas for air

find out from a kind clerk its free

and all filled up ride on

for another block anyway

until the big POOM

back home i walk now with bike in tow

noticing the squished tire offering

an ontomontopeiac gestalt

or perhaps just a good punch line

which i refuse to take personally

schlep

schlep

schlep

i'd rather depend on love than money

just more internal-ness today

discovered some deep bodywork needed

around my eye orbit

relating to the invading root canal

needing to be ripped out some day

but anyway

felt better after smacking myself around a bit

a couple of nice neck adjustments

i'm actually in love

how weird is that

it's not her age so much as her live-in boyfriend

that complicates the fantasy

i need to ask her if i buy a van

will she travel with me

it's all so ridiculous

how could she (not) say no?

might actually be what kicks my ass

in gear to get the darn van anyway

-----

speaking of ridiculous

this week i lurched severely

toward a shittier transition to whatever's next

by getting nothing done

because i can't decide a fucking thing

i can just load up the car sell everything else

and drive to new mexico

or oregon or the forest or a commune or new orleans

or just park it and fly one way to romania

or stay around and apply at the co-op

play cowboy music

who knows

i can cash out TJs and what's the hold up

so i have money for the freaking van

not to mention effing food

guess i've been so disgusted with money

so repelled by the very smell of it

now that i know the truth of it

that i can hardly touch it

and that's dangerous

i could easily end up in a bad place

something is really driving me tho

some integrity around just how fucked up

things have gotten

how violent the money game has become

and how it threatens the whole globe now

it's become so obvious

neighbors and engineers

bandmembers and strangers talk to me about it

and i'm just like that guy in network

screaming out some imaginary window

and meanwhile that much closer

to the street

-----

yesterday the church

scrambled to make food for the old hobo

who showed up late for dinner

it was camp food

baked beans and vienna sausages

but i appreciated the sincere spirit of their giving

more than i can say

i'd been playing at the farmer's market a bit

made $5.65 and that cash seemed welcome

like the food at the church

it was offered and received in love

and like a lot of folks who got too soft

for mainstream life

that's really about all i can manage

these days

11 11

OM to you this 11 11 veterans day

confluence of old paradigm and maybe

i celebrate with a bowl of oatmeal

as a lot people meditate on war

and peace today

i feel prone to caving in today

getting a job

its so much healthier for belly and mind

if anything keeps me floating

on the as yet unrealized in-any-way

plan to live in a van

it is the disability of these hands

that while not surfacing every day

remains to remind

-----

the concern is for the disability

of this mind which

without some orderliness imposed

by a domination structure

too long submitted to

can barely decide on breakfast

no less act on fedexing titles to sell cars

and cash out accounts to buy vans

and the endless task list previously posted

-----

there is no resolution

to this post

no tidy acquisition of meaning

its 11 11 so i guess i'll go meditate

planning

i'm noticing a pattern

each day i wake up committed

to make some progress

drink some coffee

scrounge something to eat

sit down at the computer

and get distracted

i'm a pretty good laborer

cause the tasks in front of me

make sense to my little mind

i like exercise and putting things in order

so i take some satisfaction in most work

and there is usually some time to dream

and some opportunity to exert some autonomy

learn something

or just grow inside

breathing into a spirit practice

but self-employment--oy!

-----

the task list:

sell car, cash ira, buy van, make cd covers and press kit and put up craigs ads, buy cable and a string and cassettes, rig up effects loop for testing, design and print brochures (& get template somewhere), print and update biz cards, compose front porch blurb, work up new website--register and design etc, brainstorm making contacts with libraries and such for education programs, meet with retail shop owner about teaching violin, pick up CD and upload (itunes and myspace) and make demos and full length saleable discs, produce graphics and get cases, and get it all done while i still have a place to do printing and such, network new gigs for regional tours, try to find a collaborator to tour with, contact yurtfolk, get to dances, play viola at contact, attend circus collaboration night, research touring tips--how much money to have, strategies for cheapness (eat at churches etc), decide whether to apply at the coop or stay committed to attempt traveling, garage sale, go through old journals--save 1 lb and discard 99 lbs of paper in goodbye OB bonfire, consider rainbow gathering for a few weeks, overcome concern over trying to not get arrested amidst my groovy new van lifestyle (become a better mechanic, put a biz logo on the side of the van) and learn how to stay healthy (rig up some wheatgrass growing corner, etc.), play once in a while, listen to music once in a while, record in studio with trio on wednesday, discuss hats, request help with promo photography...

and on and on it goes, until i either get exhausted from endless inventory and take a nap, or else come across something i actually might enjoy doing, like maybe photography today or pick up the cd

all while staying in touch with bigger picture spirit transformation work, and other core values which are the whole inspiration for the project

and keeping fed and staying connected to community, see if Bubba got to the hospital for dialysis, check in with Donna, hopefully pick sage this week

and remember to consider juicy stuff like: maybe sell my fiddle and buy a more resonant one, consider travelling to a foreign country and indulging in learning the local fiddle music--most traditional cultures have a place for a fiddler, i suspect it would use up much to all of the rest of my cash but could be a very deepening/focusing experience musically (thus economically useful) and personally (could use some new cultural input)

-----

i really will be testing the nuevo-NVC approach

which argues that order is a strategy not a need

cause it feels like a disorientingly big unmet need

these days

but if it's just a strategy then i can find other ways

to meet the underlying need

which would be...?

probably support

and associated flow

which is related to trusting Life

and my own generativity

in the global community of humans

many of whom are more frightened

or have more desperate circumstances

than mine

and with whom i stand in solidarity

as a traveling musician needing little

while meeting needs for joyful celebration

beauty-reminder acoustic-love trance-dance

gratitude-education and giveaway-mentorship

plus occasional gardener-laborer

traveling permaculturalist play

and whatever the heck else i can offer

to the tasks at hand

as we climb the ridiculous learning curve

of bootstrapping life-support systems

in the post-economic world of barter

potlatch and giveaway

sunset over Ocean Beach

beginner's busk

let me put it this way:

it's a two blogpost day

i was sitting home

slightly stunned

the car needs another brake repair

this one costing $280

and I've got $300

and i owe the guy engineering the cd

that didn't come out so good yesterday

$20

and i was saying let's think this through

i've got the deposit coming back

at the end of the month

and a couple things i can sell

and such bullshit

and i realized it was farmers market day

and that i'd have to scrape up change

if i wanted to buy a collard green roll

-----

i thought maybe i should busk

like i say i want to and shit

and i was like

the prospect of putting out a hat

was so insulting to some airs

i've held onto way too long

that it was inconceivable

i could move toward the feeling of utter disgust

(especially since swinging toward

getting the hell out of here anyway)

at this thought of

begging

-----

but my mind turned to a useful question

i thought what would i feel seeing me

playing my violin on the street for tips

and i felt tremendous compassion arise

seeing myself there with this greying beard

scared and smiling

and doing my best

and suddenly i was in the mode of

if not now when

-----

i was not happy about the decision

overtaking me

i don't particularly like crowds and noise

or reaching out to make contact with strangers

but i was getting dressed

and remembering a busker's advice

to try and look nice

and so i did

except for the old sneakers

and down the block i trudged

feeling a wealth of feelings

panic and determination

humiliation and the fierceness

of a man who chose the integrity of unemployment

over the prospect of wearing out for laboring

and i realized i was scowling as i approached the market

so i tried to smile and grimaced

and then smiled in a firm way

which is i guess what people mean when they say

stiff upper lip

-----

i played

but not before inquiring with the shopowner

i'd be in front of if they were okay with it

and they were and i thanked them

and i played viola

and it turns out i am old enough now

to enjoy this kind of accelerated learning curve

it's a good day to die medicine

and as i had visualized

i felt a compassionate dignity arise

connection with the whole of the scene

people's eyes meeting or not meeting

my humble offering

of reminder of inherent humanness

when hearing a resonant rendition of

a cajun or americana or celtic rhythm

and i played well

way better than in the studio

i invented songs

played waltzes and a classical piece

rolling into a bluesy progression

and remembered what music is about

-----

the kids were often the ones to notice me first

of course

but lots of people smiled

including the shop owner locking up

and lots just walked by too

but no one was offended

and if they were i could move

or maybe we could talk about jubilee economics

and i walked away having made $7.50 an hour

which is not bad considering

it may be

the most tremendous clarity

i've ever felt

and this is precisely how

i wish to live:

in honest relation with the world

as i am

cornflakes

alright so i'm depressed

i mean aside from the imminent collapse of civilization

there is just personal ineptitude

money issues abound

beyond the money-is-just-a-form-of-energy rationale

there's the reality of one's collaboration with the system producing it

and thus devouring the planet

but aside from that and that

oh nevermind

-----

let's just say

i'm a little bored with san diego

big beautiful waves today

and who cares

it's still america

dog-and-pony show for the world

except everyone's online including me

so i guess my best hope for relationship

is to start posting on craigslist

now which category again?

-----

i really need to buy food

but can't stand the thought

i'm sick of trader joes

and the coop's too expensive

so i guess it's dry cornflakes for dinner

again

spent several useless hours in the studio

spending money and sounding wimpass

how can i be so inspiring sometimes

and then so repellent

a brooding self-medicating manic depressive

i like that description

of strummer

-----

there's something under here

one can only ratchet up the magnetism so often

as ugly as my process can be

there are some hopes for redemption

honesty tends to sooner or later

hone me into what is really alive for me

and what to do about it

so i await an empathic moment

a remembrance of a wholeness to things

some spontaneous outburst

of survival