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Archive for May, 2010

I went into the realm of the intelligentsia the other day, that place of devotion to the mind. While my visit took place in the physical realm, a given place and time, it was also a journey into that head space that i know all too well. It was a journey i had looked forward to, to a place i felt cast out of, and i place i thought i had unwillingly left behind. But it was a room filled with mirrors, my reflection all around. Although i felt disconnected and critical of what was there, like i did not belong, and i also saw myself reflected in so many of the mirrors. Upon reflection i did see, that part of what i was rejecting was me, and i also saw the reasons why i had to move beyond. And the answers, subject to change, were not those that i expected to find.

The physical place was an office loft just down the street from Pioneer Square. The purpose – a “house party” for an evolutionary worldview seminar from Enlightenment Next magazine. It sounded ideal, a place to gather in the study of consciousness. I arrived just at 8am, or 11 eastern time, when the conference was to begin. A thin woman in preppy dress let me into the building and i took the elevator upstairs and walked down the hall into the office loft where the party was about to begin. Comfortable blue cushioned stacking chairs were set out in three rows in front of the projection screen, and a couch stood on each side. I walked in and looked around, was barely greeted and sat down. The people, a mix of men and women, were neither young nor old, but seemed all unto their individual selves, notepads out and staring at the screen. The tone was understated, the men all had short hair, the women wore little if any makeup, and all wore sensible expensive shoes. And i recognized my face in theirs. One woman played on her laptop, i thought to get the image on the screen, she seemed frustrated, and so I offered that my link was in my email. We have the audio, she offered up, i’m just looking for the interactive page. I was surprised to learn that this was an audio rather than a telecast.

The conference had just begun, so i listened in to the introductions that seemed to go on and on. It was weird staring at a screen listening to disembodied voices chatter on. I told myself if was like talk radio – CBC or NPR – talk shows which i miss – but then as the day progressed, i felt more and more something amiss. The introductions and the first talk were long, and despite all the words often nothing was really said. It had been a while since i had been around the chattering class, and while the term escaped me for a while, i understood why it applied. It took forever to get to a point, if one was ever made.

Instead the speech was full of repetition of the buzz words – evolutionary, post-modern, leading-edge, to dialogue, transcend, cosmic, consciousness, shared cultural values, complexity, irony and more- and at least two adjectives or adverbs proceeded every noun or verb. But it is the vocabulary and jargon of the class, the syntax or i forget the word, that defines who is on the inside and who is out. And i remembered how this academic vocabulary often bothered me for they formed the walls of the ivory tower and helped create a disconnected insular world – a world that called me but that also left me feeling separate from all the was around – for we would study and pontificate but really never join in or truly understand. It is a world apart though enmeshed in the whole.

And as the dialogues went on, responses from the audience began to fill the screen – twittered or tweeted or otherwise chatted in, and a globe with flags showing where people were listening from appeared on the bottom of the screen. Perhaps i am no longer of the post-modern world which they seek to grow, for i wished to focus and listen and not multi-task shifting my attention from the voices to the written words and the images that filled the screens. At the end of each segment a few phone calls would come in, and a conversation would occur, but within the room people did not chat or otherwise connect. Photos would occasionally pop up of the house parties around the globe and they appeared very much the same. But to me all felt so disembodied and disconnected, despite the apparent interaction, cut off. Or is it just me who is disconnected from this world – or am i. For in the realm of the intelligentsia interaction occurs more with ideas and knowledge rather than with people per se.

But is this what interaction and connection has become about in the post modern age, and maybe they are correct and i have fallen behind the times – for there is more connection that before, and it is i who feels so cut off. I sit in hostels and many city centers and all are in front of their laptops, something that i have recently joined in and people do not really connect with the others in the room, but spent their times on facebook and more, connecting so much beyond what i do. And they twitter and chat on the cell phones, connect to the world through technology. And it is just me who stands outside again, not connected in this way.

And many of the ideas, while not revolutionary were certainly worth pondering, but i felt it was mainly coming for the head. Is that what consciousness is all about?. But i look at myself and i see how i lead my life in that way too, and maybe what i see is more a reflection of me, than just what is going on. Or did i join with my peers, who are similar, gathering in this realm. For some are connected personally. One man was desperate for human connection, kept pushing for a time and place to meet, the answers he was given were evasive, never really coming to a point. The people who are here want to join in something larger than themselves, for what would be the point in coming here, if not for that. But i left alone and as isolated as when i arrived.

It is critical and i became a judge, judging others as myself. Few looked alive, with tight-drawn faces, sensible shoes (the uniform that i just bought) and clothes, which for women have the correct amount of flare, the intellectuals where life is lived in the head, more khakis – reptilian people. Short hair, but not too short, on the men. And maybe that is what turned me off, but i recognized myself in many of their faces. But the smooth voices and philosophical language helped place me on the outside. And i realize that is what i have always been an outsider who has wanted to climb in – or have i. am i one who they know will rock the boat, criticize and poke holes in the new paradigm. For i always said i wanted a sociology outside the academic walls, but also of the walls of the cultural class. But at the same time i know i feel the pain of not being let in those very walls that i wish to knock down, for it is not necessarily the inside that i wish to eliminate, but the walls themselves that divide us all, and that separate me. The talk of the complexity, but i feel they complicate all with the nuances of speech, but then i too get impatient with simplistic answers.

The focus is on the creative impetus, for we are creators of our world now and in the future. But with the primacy on creation there is a dismissal or disrespect of those who serve, reflected in this ideology and in our society as a whole. For the talk is of leaders, creators, but those who do the daily work left by the wayside. And in our society the great divide, those who serve downward wages, and the reciprocity of roles diminished – the cooks and clerks and cleaners and drivers of the world, those who silently work to look after those who create. And it is not just monetary but in attitude. I have felt it as I slipped on down (see look how I phrase it) the belief that is felt that the “others” do not know and in doing so there is a creation of the others. And some of it is related to the feminist revolution, the movement away from being a caretaker to a creator, and not realizing there are many who still do, and the relations are now distant, no longer intimate. And is not serving a giving of the heart?

It was out here, back in 2001, that I felt the divide, and the view that there were coming to be two types of people. was it greater here, or that I had left my comfort zone? The citified thin people well dressed in new cars, and those who lived in run down bungalows and trailers around, in sweats and jeans, and larger form, not seeing then the energy stagnating within – for the roles were lost, not only monetarily, but a role of fitting into society. Or is it a lack of respect for all i see, by those with power and money?

But the areas that belong to the cultural are often beacons of light, they are not just the new condo lands, soulless, like belltown, soma, yaletown and more, but also homes and gardens and food and events. And as I discovered yesterday, are pretty too. but not just the post-modern role, for have been like this for different incarnations – maybe not just monetary, but those who are allowed to create. Is this just my own bias, for there also live there many who serve, but who serve from above and not below.

And it seems ironic that I experience this here in Seattle which has seen the waves and the fallout of the shifts – from transport and a port and shipping and a gold rush town to Boeing and aerospace, to the computer revolution, green and rise of the cultural creative class. As they say in the spiral of development many sectors exist simultaneously, but in the evolutionary paradigm, with the idea of levels they are at the top, the pinnacle of what is to be achieved.

And the gaps i see in Seattle help show what the best ideas can do if they are merely from the head. And maybe this is the mirror i saw, overdeveloped in the head and less in the heart – the knowing what is right, but without always the feeling. The reserve and the constraint i sense in this environment a result of this, not feeling too hard or much – yes, shut down the darker side, but is merely repressed and that repression shuts out the light as well. The control, the clippyness as all brews beneath the surface, out of touch and knowing it, could it be the grand waking up. But without love and the heart there is little to be achieved, and i wonder if this was what was missing here – some discussion but more as a sidebar.

And with the discussion of evolution and stage of development, with hierarchy where one stands above, the cultural creatives, post-modern beings on top, i could not but help if what they wanted to create was the post modern version of the Leninist vanguard of the proletariat, a revolution to serve all but with intellectuals at the leading edge. Or is it a movement, possibly unconscious, for those who thrive to maintain their leading place. In a world where many feel lost, is this not intellectuals carving out a role, a break from tradition, but a continuation of the same. The talk was for evolutionaries the leaders of the new post-modern enlightenment. And does not the vision of a leading edge create the us and them that a unified consciousness transcends – for we all are part of a whole.

Evolution is defined as a developmental process, a transition of the view of the world as static and unchanging to one that is in process. But I wonder who they argue against; I know the enlightenment thought that ruled for so many years, but in many ways was just the blink of an eye in human history. what is new is not the idea or change, for instance Buddhism says that all is temporary, but what is still new is the idea of direction, and one that as humans that we can control – but can we control it?.

But the evolution of today is that which lay within, and not just without. The issue is when he talks about the shared cultural values, the perspective of all becoming more complex, and the new impetus and technology that allow us all to share. While that is true, but the emphasis on sophistication, self-aware being and levels of development leaves out and behind the greatest energy of love.

they talk of the leading edge as what began in the 1960s for those with privilege, wealth, education and freedom and the focus on the individual, the big me. and is not this paradigm shift a message to those of us who caught in the dialogue that the isolated me is but a myth, and so many never went here, but is it a stage of development, or is it a sidebar in humanity. the me generation removed the shackles but is now feeling lost not knowing the next step. But the impetus is to keep on moving, though still really not knowing how or where. But you can’t go back, and that is true, but how much can you pick up of what was thrown away. So the next steps are but a continuation of the path you have set yourself on. In the traditional world view you knew who you were and what your purpose was here on earth, but as we broke off the shackles that were destroyed and not so many are wandering lost.

and am I just a prime example of the post modern dilemma – of someone who got lost along the way, and are not my movements not just indicative of the times, and some will argue a time I chose to be born into. And that is what they define – the post modern individual. The opening of the interior landscape but when is it just narcissistic self obsession? And how to we move beyond to truly connect?

There is a focus on expanding knowledge, but what is defined as knowledge is according to the existing paradigm – it is the history according to one particular class, but given that all is intertwined many live it, but there are many other knowledges that exist outside, maybe not accepted by the intellectuals whose roles as they see it is to guide.

many worldviews exist in the same culture, in the same locale, and thus within us too. the traditional, empire, modern and post-modern all exist simultaneously and are interconnected. But when we speak of levels of development and talking to their needs, yes need to acknowledge all, but is it to lead people to the next stage, or to integrate and value what is there, not as behind or in the past, for in doing so are we that different after all. I look like a lot of the people, people who rule from the heads instead of the hearts, the intellectuals of the world, and that is why this focus on consciousness is as so. And I wanted to write that it is stripping the spirituality away, but is that it? And are those I judge like myself, trying to move away from the intellect, growing slowly with a heart consciousness, and I believe some are. Or was my trip there to show the limits in the intellectual focus I desired and had.

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My energy seems to have drained away as i sit inside in Seaside on another rainy day. I feel sapped with motivation for little and wonder if this is the calm i have been waiting for. But part of me is still restless feeling more stuck or complacent that truly content. And i know it is not merely the rain, for this feeling has been creeping up for a few days – and i know that in the past i  have ended up staying here much longer than planned. In some ways it feels like a sucking in for energy moves more slowly here, and at times i feel that i have moved into the past. And as before, i have little motivation for anything and am truly forcing myself to write even this.

I wonder where is that balance point between the frenetic energy that can push and drive you, and the calmness that becomes empty inside? And i feel that often when i move between the city and countryside. Is that not why people come to the beach, to slow down, unwind and let their cares disappear for a while? But when does that become lethargy?

It is true that here things move at a slower pace, at least in the winter and shoulder seasons that i have been here. Nothing really hurries or is in a great rush, people have time to say hello and wave a pedestrian across the road and often chit chat when you go into a store. Even today, on the friday of a holiday weekend with more traffic on the main street through town and longer lines in the grocery store, all feels slow.

And i think that is it – it is a town where nothing really seems to happen – a place where people lead out their daily lives, yes with personal dramas for i have seen some here, but without huge expectations for something more. over the holidays and in the summer, the town fills up with families and older people on vacation – playing on the beach, having barbeques, drinking and eating junk food. But it is a place where life goes on, life goes on as is.

The town at times seems like a time warp – and the tourist strip on broadway stands much the same as years ago with arcades and tourist shops and mainstream restos though today with espresso and sushi up the road. Peoples attire follows no fashion, the working middle of years ago, and the music you hear is more often than not, classic rock or the tinny pop that has not changed much over the years. Beyond the small tourist strip, it is a small town, a bit rundown, but more with the weathering of the simple clapboard houses, than any decay per se for it seems to me an older and a working class seaside town. a decent place to raise a family or retire into the saner, simpler life, and it is more open and friendly than its “sophisticated” neighbor down the road. Here I feel calm, and empty too, for it is a place to unwind but very little more. i value the kindness of the people, but i feel it is a town that just is. And i know that if i grew up here, it would be a place i would be dying to leave, but for now i am not motivated (or stressed) in any which way.  Is this is what is meant by beingness? – but i know i am not really content inside – a sense of boredom or ennui for it is a place to take a break but not a place to grow. i am calm but disconnected from the fairly conservative small town around, a life maybe i wish i could lead finding all i need in the daily routine, but somehow despite the shore, it is not stimulating to me. It makes me wonder if i am meant for the simple life after all?

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I sat on a huge driftwood log on the beach last night just before sunset. I was quite a ways from the water, and i took off my glasses to watch the few people walk and stand close to the shore. And i saw their energy and their doubles as i have before. I’m not sure if this is invasive, watching people like this, and i have done it many times before. What i see reminds me, and initially showed me, that we are made of energy.

In certain locales, just above the tide, people appear less dense, almost merging into the water or the air. Rather than just seeing an aura that surrounds a body, the body becomes like an aura in itself. People (and animals) are fuzzy and i know it is not just the lack of focus in my eyes, for some appear denser than others, and i have checked and it is not just the colour of their clothes. At times the ocean itself appears crisper than the bodies or souls who walk upon the beach.

I saw doubles as one became two (or sometimes three) – with one of the bodies less dense or more erethal than the other. I would put my glasses back on to see how many people were there, and the two would become one – crisp and clear once again and i knew that the “shadow” was not just the regular shadows we see that are made by the sun. The bodies would generally would walk or stand side by side, often joined, but at times would appear to separate, and they did not always move in unison and the double for all was not always on the same side. On one it was standing behind, as if looking on, and for a moment with another it joined and move away as if engaging in a dance.

Is this a persons shadow or is it their soul becoming visible to me? I don’t know but i have watched it before, often, but not exclusively, along the ocean shore. Is it something in the quality of the air – its denseness or the negative ions that are around, that allow this to appear to me? And what are these multiple bodies that generally appear as one?

I watched for a while and then put my glasses back on and went back up to the street where all appeared as before. But i was happy that i could see the energy again, a perception that comes and goes, and i only see with my glasses off.

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Today I went and visited the sentinels that stand offshore on Cannon beach – those sea stacks that have inspired me so many times before. And today while i saw the emanating auras and energies and the faces in the stones, the energy there did not feel as powerful to me as it has in the past. And i do not know if it was the day, if some there that has changed more recently or if it was me, for waves of energy have become more common to me. Or maybe after yesterday, and returning to what was a powerful place, i was expecting just too much.

I am always inspired by Haystack rock, and the glow that it emits – seen as a yellow to my eyes. But it is the needles, the smaller stacks, that call to me. There something though as you walk beside Haystack on the squeaky sand; i feel much lighter, and the ground feels different, as if bands of energy are pulsing forth. And while i did not take off my glasses and meditate and focus as much today, and perhaps that is where i erred, this was one of the first places i was aware of seeing others auras, and now that i am conscious of it, i remember bodies would become lighter, less dense, and more transparent as they walked in certain places, especially just south of the rock (and i have seen this elsewhere, including in a park in central toronto, but there is something that shifts in specific locales on the beach by the rock) and i felt that way a bit today.

I was called to the south end of the beach, past tolvana park where i had previously felt something very strong near the hills shaped like pyramids and with the circle of rocks both onshore and off – the “needles” of cannon beach as they are called. The group does not appear as dramatic as that around Haystack rock, but it has always called me forth, Though my feet marched forward down the beach, i did not feel the urge to linger in that cove. It was wonderful, but the energy did not seem as special as before.

So i stayed a bit and then returned making my way back up the beach, the wind on my back, and the sky getting flatter as the clouds lost some of their shape. for a moment the wind picked up and blew the little loose sand (the tide was going out, so where i stood, the sand was still wet, and heavy to the ground) and thought of how with the winds all does change, and all moves about.

I also wondered about the vibrational shift and the magnetism on the coast – i really know little about it, but had read that it is lower here, and with all the earth changes going on, i wonder if the vibration has lowered or shifted over the past 25 years – for as i walked through the town, it felt “old”, that upscale but conventional ‘nice’, and like much of the coast it does not seem as dynamic as when i first visited in 1986. For the town felt so stale and sluggish as compared to the energy of the ocean and beach and as i said, that felt slower than it has many times before. I wondered if the sea stacks were the power sources here, for as well as inspiring through their beauty and magnificence, they do emit a certain ray. Around them and the headlands that make up much of this craggy coast, there is something more energetic than just the power of the ocean, her ions, and waves.

As i approached haystack from the south, faces appeared in the smaller stacks that stood beside her, faces looking at one another and staring out from the stone. These rocks are all ancient, i’ve read millions of years old. And as i thought of them as sentinels, i wondered if they were faces frozen in stone millions of years ago, remnants of an ancient civilization, or one that is still with us but “unseen” for it lives as stone, or if they could be beacons to peoples from afar. And the aura around these rocks was much greater than auras around anything else. And i though of other stone formations, and the power and images they contain within, and wondered if they are all related, something much greater than we know.

I walked north of the formation, and the smaller but broader stack off to sea seemed to be guarding Haystack, and i imagined the face i could not see. as i continues on I looked again at the seastacks in the distance of the end of Tillamook Head, and saw the faces again that i had noticed when i stepped onto the beach hours before. One pillar was flat, and a darker face appeared as if painted on the grey stone, and again reminded me of others in different locales. And this, and the other face, somehow seemed gentler to me.

I still wonder about who all these sentinels are, far beyond the stone. Like the old growth trees, they seem to watch and have a life of their own. And while they are denser, able to withstand the power of the sea, transforming slowly, becoming some of the sand i walk upon, and harbouring life of the seagulls, puffins and other birds, and so many creatures and plants of the sea, i can’t help but wonder about the energy they contain inside.

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I walked and moved on the beach this morning and i felt so alive, the energy moving through my body, at one and at peace with all, and could feel the shifts inside. But somehow i cannot write about it, this hostel is loud, and i feel energized and unfocused once again. So this entry is a mishmash.

I am in seaside Oregon where i avoided coming on this trip. When i bought the bus ticket i felt my energy begin to shift, the heart chakra had movement and a slight smile upon my face. And when i went to bed last night i felt the presence come onto me. And today i walked along, against the wind to the south end of the beach, the tide was approaching low and i went into a meditative zone. The smile was deep, my shoulders moved onto themselves, my eyes blinked, my jaw loosened up and spirit rushed in as it has in this location before. I was one, and walked following my feet, huge clouds loomed over and i thought it threatened rain. but i sat and i sang and i danced around and was at one with the all. The world seemed brighter and crisper, and then i closed my eyes and was in the all. My mind would pop up, go buy groceries now, get closer before the sky opens up, get a coffee and write, but i would slip back into this transformative zone, the energetic shift slowly taking place, my nose and face aligning too and let it be. but slowly with my mind I found myself walking into the town, and would pause and let the waves pass though me. A wide smile appeared on my face and i smiled at the people and dogs around, Part of me wanted to stay on the beach, and part of me pressed towards town, and i soon left the magic place i was in. In town waves came on me, and i was calm and happy as i bought food and grocery shopped. The rain did not come and i headed back on down, but the moment was not as it had been before. Did i let my mind pull me from completing another shift, or had i taken all in that i could right then. On the way up to the store my shoulders ached, from the release of what they held, and then on the way back i was carrying so much more and felt weighted down. I was and am still calm, but the moment had passed. I walked closer to the water and looked at the designs made by the sea foam, an amazing design and i wanted to take a photo of it. But by the time i had dug my camera from the bottom of my backpack, the wind had blown the image away. I saw some amazing images of faces in more sea foam, temporary images that remained me that the moment is just that, a moment, and what is there can pass away.

I came back to the hostel and then back to the beach and then took a nap, tired from the energy or phase in the dimension shift, and felt it continue to come through me and i thanked the lord for the process.

I thought of when i had spent all that time here before, the magic i felt at times in that place on the beach (other times a different presence was felt) and of energetic jolts i did not understand, and of dancing and singing and playing in the rain and winter wind, and realizing why i had stayed all that time. And i know i am back in the process and never really left, and to have faith that god will guide me through rest of my journey along. And i feel lighter now, and this entry is jumbled, but i will put it out anyways to share the joy.

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Today finds me back in seattle and the rains continue to pour down. This morning and last night i sat on Vashon and felt i could crawl inside no more. But then this morning i felt like i wanted to stay to spend some time meditating and healing the self, but two large groups were coming in for the weekend, one taking over the barn with all of its common space, and the other was large and would fill the other inside. So i decided to leave rather than spend time out in the teepee in the rain. Though i wish to reach out and connect, being a lone individual in a hostel or places full of groups generally leads me to feel more lonely as they are connected and you are outside.

So i left the solitude of the place and am back in the city for one night, but felt disconnected and off kilter, trying to figure out where to go. And that is where i am, in decision zone, neither here nor there or anywhere, but retreating into a now panicked mind, for this hostel is booked up tomorrow and i am drawing a blank on future connections and nothing calls me forth. and i think i am emptied out. I have reentered that stressed out nervous zone of the body and mind, not focused, jittery energy but not alive. This is a nervousness that has been upon me many times before, when planning, when neither here nor there, when the bubble is still around but the inside is not still.

I did not let go of places and that is why i am still here – stuck in this rut. I had alaska on my mind since i arrived in back the USA, and though i knew i did not want go to there, i did not let it go and it consumed space that could have been used to bring forth a new idea and life. and i am here because i wanted to write about my past journeys instead of continue the journey forward and beyond. and how many times have i not let go gently of what lay behind, i bring the strings with me, caught up in the web, and then when i can stand it no longer, i try to destroy what has held me bound, will i learn just to move on and if i am truly to return, to return and if not to just go on when a place still is dear to me. for now, i want to leave the northwest, but i cannot see how to move out.

this morning i thought live for the now, don’t be imprisoned by the past. But my mind now wanders into old ruts, and old patterns as storms gather all around. that was yesterday now, and i spent the night tossing and turning barely awake, still not knowing what to do. And this is the nervousness that is destroying me. I went into the smoking room, and the devil was playing there, so much dark energy around, people drinking and getting high, and it makes me fear that i will sink down. For i see the down of indecision and impasse. I sit in a cafe writing unable to eat the breakfast they provide, and just don’t know how much longer i can survive. for my mind takes me back on down the coast, alternatives shut off and i don’t know what to do. Can i move on, or did i blow the chances, all those times i have not let go.

the day is grey, rain threatens again – where is the summer time that is due to come? i ask myself should i have stayed with the huge groups and i know the answer is no, but that is how i do not let things go. i think of the south, california and beyond, for that was the last place i was content, but i also spent much time off kilter there. the last time i felt alive, and talked with others and that is what made the place. And while i wanted to move beyond the bubble the stillness of the country rain, now i want to crawl back in again – for the bubble still surrounds, but it is no longer a calm friendly place. Lord, please help me today.

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It’s a rainy day at the hostel on vashon island. It is quiet here and i crawl inside and memories of rainy days spent elsewhere come upon me. It is not the activity, or inactivity, i remember so much as the mood, and the desire to crawl within. I have slept a lot in my time here, and my body returns to a familiar sluggishness that comes with the rain and darker days. but it is spring now, and days get longer, and as i write this at 8:43 the sun still has not set. But i feel heavier now, like i did after my deep nap my first day here, that deep afternoon sleep where you wake up and your entire body is deeply creased from the clothes and blankets that dug in, and you wonder how you pressed so heavily so as to be marked so deep.

While the sleep was much need with the journeys into that other world and an emptiness of mind, when i lay too long the sadness creeps in and wants to settle inside. And why is this i ask? need it be so? And the answer is really – i don’t know. I know in theory it need not be, but it is such a familiar feeling returning to me. i have felt this way in my body and energy on so many rainy days spent inside before.

this morning as i prepared my heavier breakfast of oatmeal, i stared out the window as the clouds blew over the sun and lines of rain began to fall. A memory of a place and time long forgotten came upon me – a few rainy days at the Cosmic Cow Hostel south of Naniamo where i first WOOFed in April 2002. They were days of people and alone gathered inside against the rain, many movies watched and some talk, and trips outside to walk in the woods. While the landscape is similar, though more rural there, it was the heaviness and condensation in my body that brought on that memory. And with it came many others, in various country locations on Vancouver Island and the BC coast, rainy days in Tofino, courtenay, and Sechelt where i felt much the same, and i realized that for a long time this felt normal to me. But even then i knew something was off.

I know it is not just the pacific northwest, for times in the fall in the east came to me, a weekend reading in bed in montreal, and some endless days spent at pams outside of Buffalo. What these days have in common, is that they were lazy days where i could give into the feelings and crawl inside for awhile. After all is this not what rainy days are about? I watched a good movie from the collection of videocasettes, and drank tea and napped for a while.

When i arrived here in the sun my energy already felt denser to me, but the weather had already begun to shift that day; earlier there were periods of clouds and rain and the temperature had dropped several degrees. But i stood outside and stretched my body out, a little bit of yoga and qigong – neither of which i had done in a while. And it felt so good, for i had gotten into a zone in my head, and i have remembered to do some since i have been here. But this morning it felt more like a desperate quest, to move something along that was settling inside – a dense unease. Though i have meditated, but not as much as planned and sang to myself, still i feel the crawling or hiding within. but is this not a time to do just so, to assimilate and process the activities of late – is that not why we have rain and winter, a time to slow down and move inside.

For often when life is full of activity, outside and/or within, i have craved a rainy day where i could just be unto myself (or ideally with a loved one, and maybe that is the point). As i was writing this i remember some days camping in the rain, the days i rejoiced the chance just to sit in my tent, read, meditate, sing and sleep, integrate and process all that was in me. But after a while i also rejoiced (or craved) the sun and the ability to journey back out again.

And i know that at times rains are welcomed, and rejoiced upon, bringing an end or a release to what has building up, releasing heavy pressure or a crackling dry and nurturing the earth. But it is not the summer rains or thunderstorms i write about, but the cool constant rains of the northwest and similar locales or the rains of the fall.
These rains can become a weight holding you down, and while it need not be so, i am not alone in this feeling i know. The rain in the city is different quality altogether as it bounces off concrete and splashed upon you. For i remember the depression that came upon me in Vancouver and Victoria and elsewhere. But i think the difference is not only in the terrain, but in the level you are able to integrate the rain – to be with it outside or to journey to that space within.

I think of my last time in Seaside in an early rainy spring when i stayed about a week. sun had been predicted for two weekends before, but the rain had continued on and winter was getting stale. All everyone talked about how there would be sun for the weekend coming up, and i could sense the desperation in their voices. I felt that if there had been another weekend of rain, all would have a collective breakdown, But the sun did come and you could feel the mood shift as people looked up and walked with a bounce in their steps, smiling as they went along, and this is something i have detected many places after a long bout of rain.

But i also remember one weekend in Seward, where the sun did shine after 10 days of rain (and before another 17 but we did not know that then) where the town seem to crackle that day, as people let loose what they had been holding inside. i later heard that i was one of many who briefly walked off their jobs that day. And i remember the crackling of an energy shift that has happened several times as i have crossed over the mountains away from the coast leaving the heavy comfort behind. So different expressions can be released when it lifts.

I think some of my feelings might be the duration of the journey within – not merely with the rains, but with my life more broadly for i remember my time in ireland where the days of heavy rain alternated with those of sun and grey, and i was able to truly appreciate all. i also was more active and expansive there. So the journey within and the days to reflect were a balance to those i journeyed out. i is not merely what i do with the days, to reach for the beyond and bring joy and transform inside, but also the question if i spend too much time there. And i feel like i have spent too much time in that cave within.

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