In the Country - music from the soul

Music calls to be listened to, everyday it seems. This flowing rhythm with rhyme for all to partake in. Almost as if that medium, and how effortlessly it can enter our presence, was inherently part of life. So much music exists out there - some good, many not-so-good, in my opinion. My roommate Ryan and I were taking a lazy afternoon a few days ago and we both came to rest on the thought of soul in music. How, without soul, music just doesn't ring quite as true to our beings, our insides! It's as if my or your soul acknowledges, without interruption of conscious thought, what the artist is displaying outwardly from within. Beautiful! 

I can't explain why I choose this song to listen to this morning, but after hearing it and desiring to understand what they are saying - through listening and feeling - I feel renewed in my day! I thank my father for this musical influence in my life. I wonder if he has taken the time to let this song, and its message, sink into his being? I bet there was a time and place that he did; reconnect Dad! I love you. 

 
or follow this link: (http://grooveshark.com/s/In+The+Country/3oapbF?src=5)

Oh my reasons
And my ways
Keep on changing
From day to day
As I grow
It becomes so clear
Why I'm here

It's all here
for you and me (thank you for this!)
The beauty of life
Someday you'll see
And then you'll join in
And sing along
And you'll understand why I sing this song
Let me tell you now

I do love you
I do love you (yes, you, that person sitting here listening)
I do love you

Well I'm talkin' bout life
And livin' (uh-huh)
And the beautiful earth (oh lordy!)
And givin' (we could all do this more, eh?)
Talkin 'bout the natural things we've had since birth (how fortunate!!)
That's lovin'
Well I'm talkin' 'bout a walk in the country
'Bout an angel's sweet charm
The smell of her perfume
And they both comin' on
Let me tell you now

I do love you
I do love you 
I do love you (because livin' is lovin'!)

Well it's a beautiful day (certainly is!)
And I'm on my way
Oooh, thank you lord, for the country

Well my thoughts
Are like ripples in a stream (poetic!)
I see myself so free
My eyes and spirit say hello
My soul goes dancing by, oh hello (how do you see yourself?)

The clean fresh air (what a treat!)
Goes jumping through my head
The sun is smilin' down
If you have ever lived out here
Then you know why I say...

I do love you 
I do love you 
I do love you (all of you, even those I do not know!)

So come on let's move
Out to the country (or at least appreciate what is naturally outside)
Yeah, let's go live out there
Let's get funky (Uhhh!)
Come on people
Come on people
Yeah, let's be free
We got to be free (Why not?!)
In the country
You and me

Come on people
Come on people
Better have a good time 
We'll have a good time
We got to be free...come on now

Striving in LOVE for others and self,
Alan 

"When you are in tune with the unknown, the known is peaceful." 

Travels to The Source, and back again

Once again I ventured up into the hills near my shared apartment. Led by some voice, a whisper, an uncertain push/pull to sojourn back into the woods; the scrubby bushes, the Aspens, the wild. Crossing the highway, that final barrier between human and nature - true uninterrupted nature, that is - and stepping, plunging rather, into the knee deep snow of the steep hill's northern facing flank.

Reaching the first of many tablelands, humble in their square footage of sage brush, I paused to catch my breath and to scout the unfolding landscape ahead of me. With sunshine, that glorious perfection striving towards the Earth, in my eye I moved back and away around a nearby bush, using it as a shield in which to see the nature scene up and to my forefront. Out of the corner of my eye motion led to conscious acknowledgment of a small herd of animals starring at me. Two large bucks and 3 does. One buck more easily detected amongst the herd than the other, presenting themselves - antlers large and outlined by the Colorado blue sky above and beyond. Smiling, as the breathy vapor of winter escaped my lips, I starred back in happiness that non-human creatures existed in this shared space with me. After a short while, the deer, in their darkened brown coats of winter, departed up the hill further, away from the intended direction of my solo travel.

Continuing on, across the largest of the earthen tables I'd cross this day, I paused and turned to take in the scenery of the Eagle River Valley. Remarking out loud to myself of the grandeur and beauty that the mountains far across the valley to the north revealed with each step up, into a new and higher perspective: where the reaches of humans only visit; devoid of our lavish interpretations of habitation and homes.

A short while earlier, before leaving the apartment, I gathered the few necessary items not already on my person: water, sunglasses, and a warm layer for this quarter-day journey up and back. In my preparations I once again heard the voice of truthfulness. Not my truth but a created, established one that softly discloses subtle words, guidance - only seeming to register within when I am truly listening. Or was it me creating thoughts within my consciousness? No...

This soft, gentle whisper just below my conscious thought stuck with me. Knowing there flowed water from the earth where I'd be going today, I doubted, at first, the guidance, the truth shared with me. Only after I had finished filling my bottle with water from the tap did I recognize and accept this thought not to be mine. Coming to a sudden space of harmony with my ambiguous thoughts, reassured in what I had witnessed silently slipping into my realized consciousness, I poured the water out of my bottle into another bottle that would remain here, in the human world.

***

Ascending, ambulating foot in front of foot, up another vertically venturing hill of the northern flank of this mountain, I suspended in mid-stride to take in a set of animal tracks. These were not the tracks of deer, a social animal known to amass in groups, but, rather, the tracks of a loner: a hunter. 

The size of the paw print in the snow occupied almost the entire space of my own human palm. The distinct pads of one print in particular contrasting the snowy purchase around which it had been placed. I half witnessed within me an acute pang of fear in the unknown before reason fortunately told that these tracks were old by a few days or more. Speculating such based on the amount of snow covering some of the less visible tracks and their relative lack of distinction. Thinking of the wilderness space I was in - out of my element - recalling the story I had just read about mountain lions from a book my sister gifted to me for Christmas called The Animal Dialogues, by Craig Childs. Shaking my head at the momentary facade of fear, I flashed another smile and kept on up the hill; spurred by a thirst for the liquid medium that flowed somewhere up yonder. 

***

I truly enjoy the snow; this frozen interpretation of water, cast upon the Earth's surface for a duration of months known as winter. In selfish admittance this is one reason I chose to come back West again - to experience winter to its possible fullest. The way the typically dry snow of Colorado piles upon itself, coalescing over the nearly imperceptible granules of its brothers and sisters. Shining bright, brighter with each step. Sunlight caressing the snowy particles in their movement of forced exile from the space created by my booted feet. Momentarily captivating a simple acknowledgement within me of a greater, more complex sense of creation that is not of human form or doing. 

Transitioning in my movement and affirmation of the beauty of nature around me, I trended up, leading myself by memory and the channeling landmarks of the gulch towards the source that flows - even in the cold, frozen reality of winter time. In my growing excitement and proximity to the source, I again paused, shielded by an ample-sized Aspen tree from the direct stare of the sun. Registering the refracting rays in my bodily stillness as they spit off the tree, glancing onto the other off-whites of Aspens immersed in this snowy landscape nearby. I closed my eyes; allowing, willing, attenuating my sight so that my other senses could be. 

Attempting; gaining a short peaceful space; failing. Distracted by my own human-created thought. Eyes opened: renewed was my spirit in its realization of the treasured sight of what lay around me - enveloping me; accepting me.

another source; pure and as nature intended! 

I've been coined as a spastic person before; this certainly seemed true on this day as I sloppily ambled, spurred yet again by that draw for liquid, up and over downed snow-covered trees. Easily creating a scene typical of human forms in my not-so-graceful movements of bizarre entertainment to any creatures that watched. Once past the downed logs, seeming to guard entrance to the source, I collected myself as I proceeded just a bit further, step by snowy step, to a small rivulet, unfrozen and flowing: the source! Well, one source of flowing water, at least, in this wintry landscape. 

Finding a spot that would accept my bottle, attempting to not be disruptive nor rude to the other creatures that shared this necessary source of daily life, I filled my bottle with enough for one short draw. The taste: teeming with fullness of nothing, no flavor; except the flavor of everything, realized existence! Registering this blissful emotion led me to fill my bottle again - this time collecting the gravity-fed flow of water to the top of my bottle. Smiling. Again, that display of emotion that creeps out of everywhere and anywhere within me when I truly venture outside, into the wilds. Acknowledging that once again I had the unique bestowment of a blessing in my life. Simple and quick as this taste was, it had been since the Appalachian Trail, this past June to October, that I had tasted water in its natural, unadulterated, unfiltered-except-for-Mother-Nature's-natural-strainers, form. What a simple thing to easily appreciate.

Satisfied, striped with happiness, beaming! with brightness. Temporarily forgetting the cold of this winter landscape, I moved off, away from the source; following curiosity towards an area of Aspens I had yet to explore. Once out of the gulch and up the other side, I reached a spot preserved with the damp cold of the dark night prior. Though I could see the rays of sunlight in areas nearby, the cold penetrated me. Standing as a silent barrier to we in our meek human forms: unsuited naturally for habitation in these unique spots of nature.

Wishing to have my beard back, I put on my extra layer - a light down jacket - interjecting warmth in my cold reverie. Being struck with thought about this specific spot, wide and long as a baseball diamond; never seeing, experiencing, feeling sunlight in the short day of winter's time. Perhaps that is why even the animal tracks in this area are sparse. Distracted from this struck thought, nudged by the cold chill, I, in my satisfaction of a nature's steep to my spirit, turned and proceeded downhill.

Back to that human society from which I hail. Back down into the overly-tracked and under-spaced conglomeration of shared existence. Back past the lavish interpretations of homes lining the mountains. Sickening structures of a different kind of grandeur, easily costing millions of dollars, produced for the sake of semi-selfish enjoyment and pleasure. Back across that final barrier, the highway, with small bits of trash littered along its unloved flanks. Back, to the human world with water from taps - purified with chemicals for your health and safety. Back. Baaaack.

*Deep breaths...*

Till I smile with you again, may swirls of beauty find you, interrupting your day;
may intuition, that soft voice set-to-speak when our thoughts become less loud share with you;
may LOVE fill you, like water fills a bottle.

Alan

Ever Really Wanted?

(listen here on the blog site)

And if you ever really wanted, someone to call your own.
And if you ever really needed, while you were all alone.
And time and trouble did you ever think that you would be with your back against the wall?
But now your older, so much wiser now, the one who wants to make the call. 
A little bolder now, cause while you're all alone, don't really know why you be holding on, to what was wrong. 
And if you ever really thought that you would be the one with your back against the wall. 
But now you rolling through like you never knew what it was to lose it all.

And if you hear what the other man say, you better stop and see.
And if you see what the other man see you know we must agree.
And if you do what the other man do, oh lord, we cannot be, the way that we wanted, the way that you need for the one that should be.

Have you ever really wanted someone to call your own? Someone, something, some place, sometime!
We shove along, and live the life, when you need someone, someone to call your own,
My brotha, my sista, its good to have a place for home.

The lost and isolated, picking up the phone, but all I gets a ringtone.
I've got myself, but its always good to have a confident and a helping hand, cause we need each other, don't you understand well!

Hear what the other man say, you better stop and see.
And if you see what the other man see, you know we must agree.
And if you do what t he other man do, oh lord, we cannot be, the way that we wanted the way the you need for the one that should be.

We can hope for better skies and we don't see why others lie all day and night you can't deny these things we've seen through others eyes,
The long and windey road, is the road that's been less traveled on, 
I said the long and windey road, is the road you take while moving on.

And if you hear what the other man say, you better stop and see.
And if you see what the other man see you know we must agree.
And if you do what the other man do, oh lord, we cannot be, the way that we wanted, the way that you need for the one that should be.

Love fully; help another up! Life is this one, beautifully drawn-out chance.

The next time I return, it won't be the same, and that is how it is to be: living in fullness in the wonderful moments of life!

Awakening to Acknowledge Life's Beauty!

I woke up this morning to the audible and persistent voice of my roommate's lady friend, in town visiting from another state. I was at first annoyed that she was insensitive to those that still may be sleeping; namely me. Though, in that short-lived selfish space of me feeling slighted, beauty emerged.

I sit here, less than an hour later and have nothing to think of but love and appreciation. I'm not sure what exactly led me to this space, but perhaps the bread crumb trail of life's knowledge and experience, the voice of intuition - knowing better than to be poor in disposition - has led me back to positivity and appreciation. Perhaps the moonlight walk in the snow last evening with my roommates down by the river helped; perhaps putting on the necklace/bracelet gift from a dear and bright spirit helped; or, maybe it was the early morning Yoga pose - directly succeeding the crude-seeming awakening.

The beauty the lone tree exudes, regardless of what broils overhead - all part of the necessary process!!

Nonetheless, I am so glad to be sitting here, typing, tapping, assembling words on this screen to share with you. Once again, I have nothing but thankfulness for life! In the simplicity of what is, there is nothing I do not have! Perhaps that is another reason why I am glad. I'm glad because someone or somebodies have been thinking about me, and sharing their love from afar - whether in the form of baked goods sent to me, a Christmas card and family portrait, or pictures of sunsets and moonscapes that continually put me in a state of awe and wonder at nature.

The temporary, short-lived, shortsighted-ness of my Ego's fade leaves me here in smiling appreciation. And as I shake my head, agreeing with what flows forth from my mind, through my fingers, guided by my eyes and heart, I feel complete as Jimi Hendrix plays from his soul to the willing reception of my ear drums, my consciousness - the acknowledgment of music - simply beautiful! It feels the longer I sit here, the more I absorb the truth - not my truth, but that which is always under, amongst the essence, the rudimentary, the necessary in life - waiting to be acknowledged by the appreciation constantly brewing somewhere in all of us!

I feel to know now that this love received, via the spiritually-loving airwaves, has brought to enrich my morning. For example, I've been putting off phone calls to dear friends because of strain with work, but now in day 2 of 2 off from work, I feel like being outside of myself and calling those that have helped shape my love for life. This feels good!

Thank you. Thank you for helping me shift my lens and attention to something far more beautiful and enriching for all. As the lyrics to Stairway to Heaven go:

"Yes there are two paths you can go by, but in the long run, there's still time to change the road you're on.

And it makes me wonder..."

Happy pre-New Year's Thursday to you and your loved ones. May the day seem as beautiful as life truly is!

Shared smiles and appreciation,
Alan

Bathing and Meandering in the Out-of-doors

I have developed a habit out of necessity. I do not know how my life would be if this new habit were not so because I am living this and learning to love it with unforced ease. I was introduced to the concept of wilderness bathing by a spiritually-connected friend in North Carolina a few months ago. Ever since this abstraction crossed the outer known limits of my mind, I have idled on what it meant fully in my life; until recently that is. Last evening, while chatting with my dear friends and roommates - the Halliwell brothers, the idea of a wilderness bath was brought to discussion once again. We three, in polite unrestrainedness, all exclaimed(!) how invigorating the wilderness is when we are privileged to experience its colossal love.

For Pete and Ryan, they had ventured often into the backwoods of Jackson Hole, WY to bathe near where they lived in years past; for me, my 4+ months spent on the Appalachian Trail seemed to fit the bill of needed hygiene. In these physically separate, yet allied experiences, all three had sampled the warm, relaxing aurora of the wilderness bath (bubbles optional). I say sample because to truly bathe, one must continue living the life, the cleansing day-in; day-out. Being that our conversation is past-tense now, it is hard to speak for the Halliwell brothers, but I feel that my sentiments to that affect would mirror theirs: when immersed in the loving waters of Mother Nature, one experiences a sense of inwardness, dimensionally-deep and profound in its staggering feeling; voids created only to be filled with awe, inspiration, and wonderment. 

Current research being studied in support of wilderness bathing affirms hand-fulls of medical benefits; including, but not limited to: lower blood pressure, lower blood sugar levels (in diabetes patients), and a decrease in stress-related hormones - as a result of passively inhaling soil bacteria and other microorganisms in the wilderness; increased production of white and red blood cells (sunlight induced), cholesterol conversion in your skin to Vitamin D, which aids in calcium absorption (think strong, dense bones), and finally a refreshing lift in people's moods (especially when in proximity to water). Though, don't just take my word for it; the proof is in the pudding. Take this excerpt from my recent adventures last week:

* * *

Sitting in the woods upon a downed tree, up the gulch and across Highway 6 from where I live: through scrub brush and sage I have traveled into the Aspens and pines: lush green Spruces of some sort - my time and exact knowledge spent working at the Christmas tree farm in Pennsylvania 4 winters ago escaping me. Easily forgetting, or trying despite the narrow swath of audible calamity that is the major through fare of Interstate 70, from the direction which I had came. Sitting and listening to nature around me: this space, the contrasting forgettable-ness of human society, at least for an afternoon. Good for the soul, the spirit, body and mind!

Indeed!

When I first released into this grove of Aspens, the wind noticeably increased directly to my forefront. The trees gently rocked and swayed upon their off-white colored bases, issuing creaks and groans - perhaps alerted to my presence. In this particular moment, intuition - that loving and subtle voice of guidance - spoke. She whispered to me just below my consciousness:

'Open yourself, ye who cometh to this spot!; what are your intentions!?'

Desiring to open and share, beckoning willingly to her inquiry, I opened my heart - spreading my arms wide to let the wind enter my soul, my existence. I half-expected to feel different after such but didn't as I proceeded to the downed tree-turned-weary-hiker's-seat. Resting on my haunches, recollecting in this, my journal, I realized the nature of my intentions in that moment: impure - selfish in their desired outcome; unlike that which is all around me here and now in this nature space. Surely, I am to leave today - returning to the human society in which I belong - having been taught a subtle lesson.

Still recollecting my thoughts, like a squirrel collects and sorts nuts, fuel for winter, I recreated the meandering hike up to this space, thinking as I scribble: Mother Nature places - for good reason - obstacles in our path. In this case, scrubby brush and trees, tight in their coupled occupancy of space; downed trees laying this way and that, providing essentially necessary organic material for the fellow organisms come spring time and new growth. Barriers requesting that those proceeding in love enter; turning, otherwise, those not ready for this discourse back, towards the human association from which they came. 

I think of bulldozers and other human-created machines, that, in their soul-less existence, do not, could not answer or beckon to Mother's request of intention. What is it like to run, to rule one of those beasts, as it tears its way over and through life; ending, terminating. Tis just a job that pays, and that reveals why it happens; at least in one case amongst many. 

I then think of cutting into an apple. With sharp paring knife in hand, given to me by my mother 4 years ago, I dissect the apple into unintentionally unequal halves - revealing the innards that will be cut out before consumption. Committing such discards to a compost, as to assist in renewing the cycle of life and growth that I, we are a small part of; a seemingly insignificant but important action, I feel. 

Bulldozer and Kinfe: two similar exterminators - finite in their end results; though, contrasting in their approach to balance. Ahh, to live in balance; that which we as a human society are not doing very well. Wow. What an unfortunate notion. 
I wonder: will it change? 

Hmmm. Hard to say. I feel, sitting here in nature, guided to an answer of yes. Mother will balance her Kingdom, and everything in it. However, we need to assess how we may organically assist in this, before her temperament runs out. 

* * * 

Forgetting once again what is it I had written in those moments of passive scrubbing, I recall now why it is that I have formed a new habit: to ride my bike to and fro work. Out of necessity for the vehicle that I used to call Freedom Jr.; no longer residing in my possession. In this human-powered transportation of myself, I feel reconnected - on a daily basis - to nature, regardless of sunlight, moonlight, or starlight; warm, or sub-zero temperatures. Connected. To the Eagle River rolling along the bike path, teeming on its course towards the bigger, grander Colorado River; coupled, with the wind upon my smiling-stupid, clean-shaven-for-work face. Undivided. United! 

Near Lake of the Clouds; White Mountain National Forest, NH. 

Nature, that thing: perhaps out your back door; at Grandma and Grandpa's house in the country; the organic promenade that isn't a leveled terrace of black top with neatly spaced trees and bushes hinting-yet-failing at natural surroundings; a memory perhaps not quite so vivid as what you received in gifts last Christmas. But maybe I'm wrong.

Maybe the love has already begun to reach you, and your understanding and immersion is on-course with the catharsis that you, I, we! all need do. Like the pile of laundry on my bedroom floor, I, too, am in need of a reminder to go bathe; just ask my sister Stephanie. I suppose I've attempted to ease its inclusion in my daily life by choosing to ride my bike, to human-power myself; to me-power my human-ness. Or, to choose options that maximize efficiency in natural-resourced-fueled transport; like ride-sharing.  

Ohh, tis enough from me; though, how I do plead you, I, we, to heed this call of love enunciating, yearning-to-scream, from the relative distances of nature. Experiencing the full lull and complete care of nature, with nothing but a creasing smile upon our naked, loved-filled faces (with maybe a towel near by to dry off).  


In loving support to you in your steps towards the bath tub of tubs,
Alan 

Listening and choice in acknowledgement: the affordable guarantees in life!

I desire to write, to sketch out the thoughts in my head, the feelings in my heart. To share the greatness that is life! I cannot think of one thing to be upset about; at least, one thing worth mentioning. There seems to always exist the subtle complaint under the surface - our Ego's sentiments - rounding out the full portrait that is us. To observe our Ego's echo is one option, to admit it, over our lips and through our tongue and vocal chord's movement, is another. The first option acknowledges but does not give credibility; the later, however, sets in motion an ugly beast with many ugly heads wanting to rear themselves in our lives, our person.

Life is a beautiful thing, I think at least. There was a time when I felt and thought differently. As I age and grow - becoming influenced by many other loving souls in this life,  I choose to acknowledge the things that are truly worth mentioning: people (and their loving potential) would be one; mother nature (and it's vast, impressive, indescribable beauty!) another; and, life's great plan for us (that is, when we learn and trust to let go of things realistically out of our control) a final worthy mention. So, let's tip-toe to stand erect upon our two strong feet; to support what is within us; verifying that we are loving-capable human beings!

The Ritz-Carlton Bachelor Gulch Hotel property

So far, after two days on the job as a seasonal Bellman at the Ritz-Carlton Bachelor Gulch Destination Club in Avon, Colorado, I've witnessed some interesting characters. Our guests, many of them kind and engaging, are the 1% that demonstrators this year on Wall Street where remarking about. As you can imagine, they have plenty of things in surplus in their lives: property, vehicles, time to travel, material possessions, and of course large sums of money. They make for an interesting population to observe and learn with. I say with, because I will be engaged in their lives in some way - whether superficially, as in: 'how are you today?,' or 'how may I assist you?'; or, on a spiritual level (if we ever reach that depth). Even these guests, the seeming elite of America, and sometimes the world, are not estranged to their Ego's divulge. In this, we can understand that having everything in life does not necessarily warrant an exception to complaints deriving from the individual Ego within all of us. Though, I smile upon all of this.

I smile because I identify: with them, with you, with life's intricate occurrences! So, as the snow continues to fall outside here in Edwards, Colorado, I immerse into an acknowledged appreciation for life and its guidance. I am thankful for intuition's guiding voice, softly uttering wisdom and love to my accepting mind and loving heart: a complete spiritual presence when I willingly facilitate balance. With this holiday season, find a balance; find a growth that is beyond what you've done before. Life's wonderful opportunities wait for us in the wings. It is my belief that we need turn-down the volume of I, and instead, turn-up the sublime symphony, bellowing just outside the acknowledgement of our conscious, perceiving minds, of us. What a sumptuous notion!

"The greatest tool you have is to listen."  Listening till I smile at life's happenings out my back door. 

Happy Holiday season to you and your loved ones in this beautiful maze known as life.

Always striving in love,
Alan

Comes A Time...

There comes a time when I feel like sharing music; again and again. For whatever reason, music is the ultimate glue, the duct tape that never fails, the mysterious-piece-now-known to my life. This Neil Young song seems to capture a bit of what it feels like this morning, waiting to hear the outcome of my car - knowing that I need to be on the road to Colorado soon. 

I gotta smile though, the patience games brings its pieces to the board of life once again. In this, I find my deep breathing, recalling the soothing feeling of calm it brings, as I settle to wait for life's next move. Indeed, a worthy ally. 

Listen to the song here (on the blog site itself is best; the link will not work via email):

Comes a time

when you're driftin'

Comes a time

when you settle down

Comes a light

feelin's liftin'

Lift that baby

right up off the ground.

Oh, this old world

keeps spinning round

It's a wonder tall trees

ain't layin' down

There comes a time.

You and I we were captured

We took our souls

and we flew away

We were right

we were giving

That's how we kept

what we gave away.

Oh, this old world

keeps spinning round

It's a wonder tall trees

ain't layin' down

There comes a time.

I believe in some ways that we assist in creating our reality. With that in the forefront of mind's possibility, I sip my coffee and smile as I regard the sunshine shinning bright outside; illuminating the whole world that is visible to me in its loving light. Simply and easily beautiful! 

a seemingly magical sunset viewed from an AT shelter atop Killington Peak in Vermont

Happy sunny day,

Alan 

Freedom Jr's last stand?

Freedom Jr. (FJ), the self-proclaimed name I've given my green Mazda Protege, has reached its last legs...I think. As I continued on my road trip back out to Colorado from Pennsylvania last evening loud, physically animated protests of disgruntlement were voiced as FJ finally quit and died 7 miles outside of Urbana, IL.

Freedom Jr.: "I can go no further! Tow me." 

The faint noises, first heard emanating in eastern Ohio from somewhere low in the front of the vehicle, gave way to loud, washing-machine-in-spin-cycle-headed-for-Outer-Space-type sounds. At this point, near 400 miles past when the first noises where observed, FJ's check engine light flashed, then turned solid - signaling its final surrender. I had pushed, and pushed hard: often keeping the volume of music up as to not hear the audible complaints for 4 hours on end.

After the tow truck came and took my car, and the subsequent rescue by my sister and brother-in law (thank goodness they lived close!), we arrived to their house around 11 pm. When the task of unloading my belongings - 2 bikes, a desktop computer + screen; hockey skates, stick, helmet and gloves; a spider and Jade plant; books of many types; clothes, shoes and all - was finished, I settled into a long concentrated space of thoughtful amazement. I began to journal, to capture what had just happened. To try and make sense of what little I could comprehend. I was bewildered by the rare happenings of the past few hours. I had taken the car's growing complaints into consideration, but knowing that on a Saturday - late in the afternoon - that my chances of getting my car looked at by a mechanic were slim. So, I drove on; knowing that if I made it to Champaign, where my sister lived, that I'd be able to spend the night and get my car assessed on Sunday or Monday. Alas, though, it ceased-up just short of town; signaling to me that it was spent, finished, kaput.

How is it that I made it that far? Did Freedom Jr. give me everything it had before it quit? I know it is just a cold, hard machine without a consciousness, but as I laid down to sleep a little past midnight, I was still in a daze at the effort that transpired. If the car had quit say 100 or 200 miles earlier, I'd been in for some sort of interesting night - not to mention that assistance of the mechanical sort was miles and miles away. It still has me wondering...

Nonetheless, here I sit in my sister and brother-in law's house, warm, fed, and loved. I'm not exactly sure how Freedom Jr. will fare. That could have been its last ho-rah. Hmmm. I gotta chalk this one up to the powers that be for watching over me. That, and the love and care my family was silently uttering for me from afar.

Thank you for this. THANK YOU, INDEED!

Alan

A road tripper's ramble

I'm on a 3,200+ mile road trip from the West to the East and back again in 5 days; not to mention the 1,700+ miles that I drove 3 weeks ago to get out West from North Carolina. So you could imagine that space: vast stretches of seemingly endless roads, tractor trailer after tractor trailer, gas stations, fast food joints, and neon signs out the wa-zoo; characters of every sort, including character numero uno - me. 

In this space of time and life, I've had many things stick, and subsequently many things not. I do not have an associated feeling with this. Though, often in the absence of original thought, music comes through in ways indescribable. 

Taking my first shower this afternoon in over 5 days I had the following Incubus song enter my brain as I began to think about my short, 24 hour duration at home here in Pennsylvania:

Listen here:

Will I ever get to

To where it is that I am going?

Will I ever follow through with what I

With what I had planned?

I guess it's possible

That I have been a bit distracted

And the directions for me

Are a lot less in demand, in demand

Will I ever get to where I'm going?

If I do, will I know when I'm there?

If the wind blew me in the right direction, yeah

Would I even care? 

I would

I take a look around

It's evident the scene has changed

And there are times when I feel improved

Improved upon the past

Then there are times when I 

Can't seem to understand it at all

And yes it seems as though I'm going nowhere

Really fuckin' fast, nowhere fast

Will I ever get to where I'm going?

If I do, will I know when I'm there?

If the wind blew me in the right direction, yeah

Would I even care? 

I would, I would, I would

Will I ever get to where I'm going?

If I do, will I know when I'm there?

If the wind blew me in the right direction, yeah

Would I even care? 

I would, I would, I would, I would, I would.

So many emotions enter and leave in a 1,000 mile stretch. What seemed as genuine and real as the cold, hard concrete underfoot often vanishes as easily as it came - leaving me in a space of beautiful nothingness. Beautiful because I am choosing to call it and accept it at that. 

Life leads, I follow...thank you for this!

Happy miles,

Alan 

What direction shall I go?

Today is not any special day in particular. Just another day in a life of wonderful opportunities. While such has not been short in my life, and the people helping to facilitate said wonder as well, the direction has. I felt led to come out here to Colorado, and I don't regret that. Not in the least. I'm only admittingly involved in the patience game now.

I've been without work, almost entirely by choice, for almost 7 months now. I thought with the 6 month threshold that work and purpose would ensue. Now, easily past that threshold and approaching 7 months I still wonder. Though, in my wonderment, I hear the calm echo of patience rebounding back toward my conscious and perceiving mind.

My friends in Western Colorado have taken good care of me; often bending over far past horizontal, so-it-seems, to accommodate and accept me into their lives and living spaces. I cannot truly express how this is the support structure I thrive on, and without it, I feel I'd be down and out. I also acknowledge the role my family plays. While it is less than in times past - most likely due to my distance from home - they still are my strong foundation, from which I have chosen to roam.

Writing and floating through the day seems to be what calls me. My drive is steady, but my intensity seems low. Perhaps I expressed myself overly last evening while dancing with friends to a funk band playing in a Crested Butte bar... hmm.

The sun is out today and vast acres of open land are within easy approach; though, I remain here, pecking away at a black keyboard.

I think to openly query the powers that be about the status of my life's purpose, but I know the answer, again, will reverberate patience. This is calming at my core, the level of my heart. Though, the chaos of this acceptance, in the peripheral and cerebral space of my body, nudges at my inner tranquility.

For too long now, it seems, I've been showering and sleeping in places not my own. I've slept in a real bed once in the last month and a half - opting willingly to lay down on my Thermarest sleeping pad; the same one I was sleeping on the Appalachian Trail with, for the sake of an established and consistent comfort familiar to me.

Sigh, what to do? What direction shall I go? If I turn, will I put distance between me and my seemingly displaced-or-out-of-touch purpose? Questions bring curiosity; curiosity eventually brings acceptance. Here and now. A few deep breaths and I shall continue on; not knowing where but willingly going forward.

Thank you for allowing me to share.
Good day,
Alan

Indian Creek-sgiving (Part 1)

The Freedomobile was packed, the coffee brewed and steaming silently in our insulated mugs. Luke and I were on the road from Durango to Indian Creek. It was Thanksgiving morning and cell phones were turned-off and stashed in the glove compartment, along with other items we wouldn't need in the desert; namely money and IDs. The Freedomobile, aka a late 80s Mazda 2-door car painted freedom to boot, with working turbo and oscillating interior air vents, was on its last legs. Luke dubbed it: "Freedom's last stand!" I couldn't agree more. We were off to a special place, and if it happened to be our last stand, then I would have accepted it all beautifully and without struggle in stride.

the view out the cockpit of the Freedomobile

For those unfamiliar with Creeksgiving, a lot of things compromise this event of friends, shenanigans, and climbing in the southeast Utah desert. The events had already kicked off a few days before Thanksgiving day; namely the story telling event, Teabag Takeover, and other various competition-offs: showcasing people's propensity to entertain their fellow Creeksgiving-goers. So, imagine rolling up on-scene: 40+ people that you know, or will know, tents, cooking stations, and the expansive Utah desert - in its many shades of red buttes, mesas, and rocks, offsetting the contrast of the wonder-full blue sky. Red sand and dry, scrubby brush kindly interrupting the expanse of red rock as far as the eye can see in all directions of the compass rose.

Now, imagine this scene with more shenanigan spices: grown men and women in wild, expressive costumes finishing their morning coffee, hoping to be done using the single pit toilet in the Superbowl campground before the start of the annual Turkey Trot fun-5K race. Shaun, the race organizer announces the 5 minute courtesy warning till race start. Those not already lined up waiting at the starting line scramble to assemble their final costume flair. This year, there are many iterations of wild and colorful costumes; among them a man dressed as an Indian Chief, a man in a tight tiger/cat suit complete with tail, and a diapered man posing as some sort of Freedom super-hero-type. The ladies present tend to trend more conservative in their dressing, leaving the off-color opportunities to their male counterparts.

If people aren't smiling and laughing already at the display of characters this year, then this isn't their scene. However, this rarely is the case. Though, each year new people are introduced to the antics of Creeksgiving; and this year certainly was no exception. With all who will participate gathered, Shaun announces the race course and any other various obligatory items necessary. With the smokeless spoken bang of his toy gun, the race is off!

Red dust swirls as the feet beat the sand out the only entrance to the campground. Many divergent and bright colors scamper across the earthen tones of the desert, vying for a place among the 30 plus competitors in this year's Trot. After a short spell, as the front runners reach the half-way point, high-fives are exchanged amongst the race runners as all pass one another on this out and back course.

Adam's Arch

After what seems to be a half-hour, the final participants rumble across the finish line: an arch of prayer flags dedicated to a friend of many, who died in an avalanche this past winter. At this point, all are still gathered to lovingly welcome back the final finishers. High-fives, hugs, butt-smacks, and back-pats are given as people settle down for the brief awards ceremony. Shaun has done his public relations homework this year: Black Diamond has donated items - new carabiners, a few brand-new cams, and The Climbing Zine as well as Pagan Mountaineering and the Moab Diner have also kicked in items for the race and other events. Though the ceremony is brief, and the group picture following, too, the events of Creeksgiving are just getting started, so-to-speak. For many, a day of climbing the countless Wingate Sandstone splitter cracks ensues; for a few others - nine, plus one dog this year - preparations begin for the 3rd annual Turkey Shooter race: America's Greatest Foot Race, as it has been dubbed.

The south & north Six Shooters, and the Freedomobile, respectively

The Turkey Shooter is not for the faint of heart or mind; perhaps why only 9 entrants and 1 dog participated this year. This seems about par for the participation-course. The Great Foot Race winds 6.5+ miles from camp out the sandy wash to the base of the talus cone of the southern Six Shooter - a desert tower standing vivid against the bright blue sky. After a vertical sojourn up and up the talus cone - over loose rocks, sand, and massive boulders - Turkey Shooters arrive at the base of the wall. Now comes the equalizer: jugging (ascending) a fixed climbing rope to the top of the tower. Race volunteers, who make this whole thing possible, await the Turkey Shooters to assist them with the technical gear necessary - harnesses, helmets, jumars, aid ladders, daisy chains, and locking carabiners to safely ascend and rappel the towering wall 150+ vertical feet above.

Upon rappelling back down the single fixed line on the wall, a Turkey Shooter racer is only just passed half-way. The complete reverse of the course: back down the loose and steep talus cone, through the expanse of the sandy wash, known as the back 6, out to the paved Creek road and back into camp awaits. At this point, aside from the front runner or two - who are actually competing for 1st place - Shooters are teaming-up with fellow runners near them to complete this challenge, this unique life adventure, together. Perhaps that is one interesting thing about the desert: you may come alone, but you surely desire to share it with another, for it is a wide expansive place, full of solitude and vast amounts of beauty.

Luke, Dave, and Adam Ferro descending from the Broken Tooth wall on a day of rest and route scouting after the Turkey Shooter race.

Before America's Greatest Foot Race had even begun, I had sought to team up with a good friend, Timmy Foulkes: desiring to cement our partnership to the finish as one. Having run this race 2 years ago, I knew the loneliness of the back 6. I vowed not to finish alone, in the dark, this year. Having only ran 2 days in the last month since finishing the Appalachian Trail, I knew I'd be slower, but still energized of heart mind and spirit for this adventure. To Timmy and I's surprise, Lindsey from Astin, TX - and the only female participant this year - wished to team-up with us after realizing that she, Timmy, and I were the last three Shooters left.

Upon entering the sandy wash, after a brief stop at the base of the talus cone to ditch our technical gear, grab food and water at the truck used by the race volunteers, we smiled and agreed aloud at the relative coolness of the afternoon sun. As our feet pitched, one in front of the other, the sand puffed and floated around our lower bodies. If the desert had a recipe for baked goods, the sand would easily be the flour, as its dry consistency seems exactly identical, save for the red color.

peaceful nothingness tinged with everything all-at-once!

We paused for a few seconds every now and again to take it all in: the presence of nothingness and everything all-at-once. Without wind no sound registered to our hearing. No other forms of animal life seemed visible in this dry vastness besides we three, and Lindsey's dog - the Freedom Four - as we aptly named ourselves. Vastly intricate mesas and buttes of red colors, toned by the desert sun stretched as far as the eyes could perceive. The only evidence of humans was the footprints and tire tracks of other Shooters visible in the wash. Collecting ourselves from the powerful pull of the moment, we continued on our course; pausing another once or twice to give Tim and I's legs some reprieve from the bodily anxiety of the day.


Arriving back on the dirt road to camp, we happily agreed to join hands as we crossed under Adam's Arch - the finish line! Awaiting, in the lessening light of day, 4 or so hours later, was a hearty crew of fellow racers and others welcoming us back! In the moments preceding the finish I couldn't help but notice the energy present in our joined hands, as the perceived pains of my body - specifically my IT bands near my knees - disappeared in the love of experience at  foot, hand, and spirit. Hugs and whoops of joy ensued as all present embraced and smiled with the thrill of life and adventure.

This would mark the end of the races for the day, but not for the competition-offs. Still to come was the communal Creeksgiving meal - complete with turkeys cooked in the ground, the mustache contest, and of course the coveted and highly entertaining dance-off!

Luke prepares the dance floor for the evening's showdown

(to be continued....)

Indeed, just that...

Yo!

Wanted to take a brief moment to drop some life love. The wilderness therapy job I applied for has postponed hiring till a later date, but life goes on!

In the meantime, after a beautiful trip to the Utah desert - which I intend to share about, I have been once again approached by my dear friend Ryan about a job in Vail, Colorado. This for sure is serendipity in action. While waiting for this to unfold, please consider sending a smile out spiritually for me; I know it all will work out as I continue to love this whole beautiful process.

Thank you for your love in my life!

Lots of love,
Alan

Goodbye North Carolina, thank you!

Heading West: living in freedom and loving in reality. Goodbyes aren't easy but life leads us when we open to it. As thanksgiving approaches I'm grateful for the time spent in NC and for the wonderful people I know and love.

I look forward to seeing ya'll again one day. Till then I'll leave you with the quote on my Yogi teabag hanging from my rearview mirror:

"Real happiness lies in that which never comes nor goes, but simply is."

Ahh, completeness; like a fully blossomed flower that knows no season nor distance from the sun.
Smiles and Love!

Always,
Alan

A grainy rendition of my final sunset in Boone. Taken from the abandoned house atop Howard's Knob. 

Freedom is my captain! 

Lovingly breaking through the shells in life...

Breathing deep, concentrating in this moment what else matters? Like a passenger train out of the station, I witness my concentration and attention in the moment disappear down the tracks. Breathing again, this time deeper, I find my center: the space lovingly niched within the expansive space of the heart. Here I am at peace, despite the calamity racing circles in my conscious mind. 

I take a moment in this space to recount the beauty...where to begin? What quantifies beauty? What qualifies? Hmm... Beauty is simple; let's start there!

In Yoga class last evening, Leigh Ann bridged the idea that, similar to the belief of creation from the Polynesian god Ta'oroa, we continually build shells around ourselves in life; and, that during the course of said life and its happenings, we find ourselves stretching to crack through the shell we've hardened into a new and beautiful space. In this new space, we may find that we had the potential all along to stretch wide and expansive, though we had yet to acknowledge it. Children, for example, go through these shells as they age in life without conscious realization. One day, in their cognitive years they may look back and wonder how it is that development occurred without the consent of their higher mind. 

We, as cognitive and capable adults, have this ability. Our minds sometimes seek to control so much of our destiny that in this meddling we miss the opportunity to connect with the niched space of beauty within our hearts. If you could tap into it, to understand it more deeply, what would the voice of your heart say? 

I've continued journaling the thoughts of my mind and the voice and desire of my heart since finishing the Appalachian Trail last month. As with other human habits, this act of expressing my thoughts and desires has become comfortable and rudimentary. My focus, without longing for conscious control, has been soft; and in this eased expression I find simplicity; beauty shining through. An entry from last evening before Yoga class:

Sitting on Grandma's back porch...the sun, once again, has begun its course - parabolic and predictable - towards the horizon. I suppose its course was in the down-swing once the zenith passed earlier today sometime. Hmm, time ticks, ticks, ticks on. I was reflecting far too briefly this morning. Grasping the notion that my time here in [North Carolina], as well as the East, is coming to a close. 

In following my heart and/or my desires, I've decided to go West again; irregardless of a given job or not. I've been treated well here but my ties are free and in this freedom I am choosing to go West. Seems odd, I was just thinking - day dreaming most likely - how far off going West seemed. Now, the time is almost here!

Perhaps one day that'll be my remarks when upon my death day (as opposed to death bed) I lament something of similar affect. Shit, I could die on the drive out; I could die in my sleep tonight or tomorrow night. Nothing seems given in life except death. 

I suppose that moves me to appreciate this moment here and now: the sun upon my notebook, the wind - moving from right to left across the exposed skin of my hands and neck, and of course the beauty and grandeur of the mountains to my forefront. I pause now to take them in...

I feel, and perhaps that is the key: feeling, that if and when the world ends - for me or for us all - that I'd been glad to follow my heart and wait for this love that offers, teaches, and gives me so much; now, and to come. 

Perhaps I feel too much and fail to acknowledge reality, but the older and freer I become, the less I crave the reality of man. So to simply state a complex answer underfoot: I love, I live, and when I express as such I share and choose to share with her: that golden blue-eyed wonder that has held my loving attention for this long. 

Perhaps this will change. Perhaps perhaps will change. Who knows! Can only move forth, acknowledging and accepting; thanking and learning; living and loving!

Thank you for this in Life.

I believe the shells in our lives exist to hold us lovingly. But, there comes a time when we need to expand ourselves, to lovingly challenge ourselves so that we have an opportunity to slide on the slope of life instead of sticking. This is possible within the seeming chaos of our train-station-type minds. Leading with our hearts for a change, if not a moment or two; flowing forth knowing we can enter our niched space to re-center and breathe deep. Smiling in these moments of peace.

I acknowledge and accept all of you.

Love to you in your day,
Alan

the simple and complete beauty of the sun and earth :)

 

 

 

See You in the Sky!

I sometimes feel to write on this blog space but come short when the moment approaches to release what is inside swirling. In this space of acceptance for what is, words have come to me; in this case to my email inbox. The following passages are from Leigh Ann, a Yoga teacher at Brightwater Yoga in Hendersonville, NC that I have taken class with. She is bright and cheerful, yet realistic in this world of love, light, and beauty. I'd like to feature her words below to encourage you in your own paths.

Happy wanderings!
Alan

See You in the Sky!

Last night I dreamed I could fly! The dream felt so real and so visceral that I can still, today, feel the sensations I felt while flying in my dream. The sensations of freedom and pure abandon were so exciting that when I awoke, my heart was racing. Yet, I also felt this wash of calm and peace running through my body and mind. It was an exquisite beginning to my Saturday morning.

It was also a very timely and affirming dream, as my family and I are entering a period of great transition in our lives, which can be a turbulent, uncertain, and challenging experience. To me, this dream was reassuring me of my potential to let go, flow with the changes, and trust in the outcome. Another affirmation came to me just a few hours later as I walked my dogs.

I had decided to take them on a long walk since it was such a beautiful, warm autumn day, with the most amazing foliage I’d seen in several preceding falls. We traveled what I’ve dubbed “the Bear Walk” because I, as well as several neighbors, have actually spotted bears through these neighborhood areas over the years. 

Visit from a messenger

It wasn’t a bear we spotted, though, but rather a magnificent Cooper’s Hawk perched on a fence post across the street that we were approaching. When we crested the hill, this skillful flyer flew right toward my face and veered quickly to my left, soaring low to the ground at a steady, impressive speed. 

For a moment it looked almost as though it turned its head to look back at us, as if trying to relay a message. Instantly I was once again in my dream from the night before and could feel the amazing power of flight I had experienced through my dream. In addition, I felt an irrefutable connection to this splendid creature, as if I were in a secret club.

Once at home, I quickly retrieved our Medicine Cards* and looked up “hawk.” “Hawk … messenger of the sky, circle my dreams and teach me the message as we fly.” These were the first words I read when I opened to page 45. As I read on, my heart beat faster and faster!

“Hawk is the messenger of the gods. Hawk medicine teaches you to be observant, to look at your surroundings. Observe the obvious in everything that you do. Life is sending you signals.… Right now a clue about the magic of life is being brought to you. This magic can imbue you with the power to overcome a currently stressful or difficult situation. The test is to observe the nuances of power lurking nearby.… Pay attention! You are only as powerful as your capacity to perceive, receive, and use your abilities.… Remember: Hawk has a keen eye and a bold heart, for Hawk flies close to the light of Grandfather Sun.”

The power of presence

The message couldn’t have been clearer. This, combined with the teachings of maitri I’ve been sharing with my classes over the past three weeks explained my feelings of calm and peace. One beautiful translation of maitri as taught by Pema Chödrön in her audio soundtrack, Fear to Fearlessness, is “unlimited, unconditional kindness toward one’s self, which then naturally radiates out to others.” On the same soundtrack, she later saysmaitri is “to place the fearful mind in the cradle of loving kindness.” It’s all about the power of presence—the ability to stay present to what is happening around you while remaining grounded and centered in yourself … even while flying!

And this, the season of change! I am always astounded at how eloquently the trees release their beloved leaves each fall, only to be left standing completely bare, stripped naked of their protective coats without even a glimpse of insecurity. There is so much evidence of our ability to let go, flow, and trust in the outcome right outside our doors, if we would only just look!

We don’t need the same keen eye as a hawk, just the ability to see and recognize our natural world and all the magic it bestows on us. The next step is to simply open our hearts to receive the gifts bestowed. Allow life—and all its magic—to flow into and through you so that you too may take flight.

One more note: at the end of my dream, a stranger approached me and advised me that it is not my role to teach others how to fly, but rather to remind them of their ability to fly. This advice is analogous to the way I approach teaching yoga. I am simply a guide, there to remind you of the potential within you, and I am honored to utilize the path of Hatha Yoga to awaken that which is already there! It takes a bold heart to fully embrace and experience this life that we live, and it takes a keen inner eye to recognize the truth. I’ll see you in the sky!

Namaste,
Leigh Ann 

Brightwater Yoga