South: Northerners Advancing toward Sedona
Driving out of Phoenix gaining elevation and suddenly the
traffic slows as cars are parking on the far-left breakdown lane
and people gathering within the median and playing in the newly-fallen
desert snow. It was like a moment from that song
'Snow in San Anselmo,' as if they hadn't seen it snow in
more than their existent years. But we had and so continue on.
Miles later, we are exiting the interstate and heading for
Sedona, our first long-anticipated southwestern destination.
And it isn't long before we see our first iconic sandstone
monolith shaped to some whatever vision in the moment we are dreaming.
And it seems as if we never saw a setting such as that, red
rock arising from the desert like solid smoke emerging from the kiln of earth.
And then, just like the visitation of an angel, it descends
and tells us of our virgin birth.
West: Awakening Grand Canyon
It was just before the dawn and I was standing on the south
rim of Grand Canyon waiting for the sun to rise. I wasn't sure just what there
was to see but whatever it might be I thought to see the sunrise at Grand
Canyon was a worthy thing to see.
I was fifty-three and for more than forty years I had
dreamed of visiting this wonder of the world. It had even grown to an important
status in my life involving some potential anti-suicide attempt. In other
words, I had promised to myself if ever such an impulse were to dawn on me with
fever pitch, I would make my way to this exact mind-blowing vista and let it
talk me down from such a limited point of view.
And here I was, at the second destination in our great
southwestern whirlwind tour, awaiting what it had to tell me just for the sake
of listening. One by one, the buttes and mesas lit afire, depending on their
height or westerly direction, and I was lit as well with such an obvious
understanding, but something never felt in such a raw experiential way.
The sun doesn't ever really rise. But like awareness, for
example, it's always there, right here, right now, and I am nothing but its
cosmic earthly unbelievably magnificent manifestation. As if I were a thing to
be extinguished! Laughing at the thought, I attended to that light with joy.
North: For the Searchers, Monument Valley
According to the Navajo, the gods had walked this land we
now call Monument Valley and their karma has been left behind in storied rock.
I saw it first on film. It starred John Wayne and was
directed by John Ford. And there were several titles but the plot was always
beauty within the valley of the rocks.
But as we drove onto the set that mid-March morning, its
simple actuality diminished every technicolor, panascope, and universal film
school trope.
It always is that truth of truths. Experience is always
greater than the sum of your beliefs. Now is never then, and then was never.
We take a tour. I scramble up a sandstone bluff and crawl
into an Ancient Pueblo space and peer through eyes that look like windows.
O one that walks with beauty! there is no separation between
nature and self, desert and thunder, sky and source, this land and who I am.
The tour guide answers every question. Even global
warming is the great intent of evolution while good shepherds feed their sheep.
I find myself cross-legged on the desert floor surrounded by
the acts of gods. Unlike the Hopi, Navajo take pictures. Here I am, truly a
butte.
Center: The Four Corners of You, Me, We & I
Love hurts but thought kills. Ananda leaves behind a trail.
Nightingales and cherry blossoms.
Even numbers are never solved. Einstein was no Einstein.
Jackpine and pink granite.
Evolution is absolute intent. Darwin proves the proofless
Tao. Black holes and other suns.
Only love is thinking different. Jesus is a goddess. Eye of
newt and ear of corn.
Being the great unknown takes guts. Saigyo, Ikkyu, Ryokan.
Earthshine, waxing moon, and sunset.
Experience is unbelievable. O Marcia! O Dawn! The
sun-bronzed circle of Four Corners.
There are no names in nondual truth. There's only me, my self,
and i. A jug of wine, a loaf of bread, and thou.
East: Hey Jack Kerouac! It's Canyon de Chelly.
preface
This body's like an amplifier and my love is like the music
of I am; this amplifier is like electricity and I am water falling; my
lightning is like a mirror and my thunder is like this dream reflecting words.
introduction
Hiking in the Whites, I fell into a waterfall and turned
into a river. I remember playing World War Two with plastic soldiers
hiding in-between the ancient roots of Jesus trees.
chapter one
The next thing that I knew was tripping over Lucy in the sky
with altered consciousness. I was later interrupted for an all-expenses-paid vacation to a
transformational experience.
finale
Ten years ago today in Canyon del Muerto before Ancient
Pueblo cliffside ruins across a running canyon desert brook like lightning
exiting a bottle,
the magic and the perfection and the glory!
afterword
As if universal being is kissing thee, my most
beloved absolute, nearby an endless hidden summer pond so many thousand dreams
ago.
Thread: guru arizona is no name. for robert lax.
After timelessness,
what
is
there?
Space-time is
a synergistic
display.
The
Great
Southwest
was once
a sea;
Waves of
Consciousness
emerge from
Pure
Aware
ness.
On
the way
back to the world,
we stop
at
the
Petri
fied
For
est
but stay
for the Painted Desert
Love passes through
the
prism
of
belief
be coming
sad ness,
fear, and
all the
spectrum of
emotions in-between.
To find the
truth,
one speaks the
truth.
And to be the
truth,
one doesn't take
things
so personally.
Every color that
you see
is
just associated with a
black
&
white
memory of
some remembered past.
But
on
ly
the
clar
i
ty
of
space is now.
The
world
is
how
one
looks
di
vi
ded.
War is always with yourself.
Love is the
cracks
within the wall,
the galaxies in space,
the light
in
te
nt
to
know
the light.
Guru
witches
of the
desert
dancing
as they
speak. The
only
medi
cine is
wisdom
And the
only
doctor
…is love.
Be
now written
on the mythic
red
sand
stone
rock
is the waves
and
the lightning
and
absolute
Aum of Kokopelli…
truly
meditation appears
as silence in the world; in
reality,
med
i
ta
tion
is like
the universe focusing
cosmic energy on the spontaneous
manifestation of self-awareness as glittering
creation.
an absolute
g
o
d
is that
i
of nonentity
which creates
other identities in order
to know itself
fully.
postscript o joy
after
i finally
heard you, i
couldn't stop
s
i
n
g
i
n
g
about your silence—
red rock arising from the desert like solid smoke emerging
from the kiln of earth
the buttes & mesas lit afire depending on their height
or westerly direction
I find myself cross-legged on the desert floor surrounded by
the acts of gods
cliffside ruins across a running canyon desert brook like
lightning exiting a bottle
