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Archive for the ‘California’ Category

I sit outside under the magic eucalyptus trees and slowly i come to life. They are trees that call me forth from afar, that come to mind when i think of this place. They do not disappoint although the air is chill and i do not linger out there as long as i imagined i would. They call forth life as small birds sing and flicker above, and if i look carefully, one of the green parakeets comes into view. I am in my oasis, my castle above the city, my sacred place – or so i thought it was.

I come back to the hostel once again, using up the last of my 14 days per year that you are allowed – ones that i had hoarded and resisted using because they were so precious to me. Ones that i had held tight against my chest the past few weeks, though i deeply longed to return – for if not here, then where would my oasis be, and would not having the option of coming here mean that this was the end of my forray in the city? – so i held out – perhaps too long, became sick inside, until that is … i came back to this place.

But now that i write this, all that is past, and i sit inside another here and now, yearning for the calm and serenity that had overcome me. Though my current room is nicer and for the moment and probably the night i have it to myself rather than shared with many others and the mattress and bed are much nicer, it is not as peaceful as it was there, and already i can feel the jitters and inner rush return – not the flow which came back there after the depletion in the place i had been in before – the out of kilter unfocused rush of the city and tenderloin.

I am in a nice place, probably nicer inside, but it does not have the same calming but awakening vibe. i step out the doors for a smoke, and rather than being greeted by grass and trees, perhaps a walker or a dog, i am on the city streets, people smoking crack on down the block, bum a butt, ask for money, others walk through. i do not sit on a picnic table under the trees and the night sky, or in the wind that comes up, but walk around the block instead. Out back of the building is not a path up the hill with a view of the golden gate bridge and the bay and darkness at night and cyclists struggling up by day, all pausing to get a view, and a smile that they have reached the top of the hill, a photo snapped perhaps (how many of others have i taken there over the years?) but the Glide church and community center = with lines for meals a few times a day; around the block for special food bags every now and then, and the most desperate, sleeping on the street at night, and kitty corner from there, another heavy drug corner. Of course next door towards the posher area, is the large Hilton hotel, with the well dressed smoking outside, but with a more nervous or held back edge, not a park where people smile. And here i stay again, on the border between the down and out land and the hyped up tourist shopping zone; and after a few days, my room is no longer my own, but shared with a group of three, who i can tell would prefer if i (not the personal me, but i as in a person who is not part of the group)not be here. but for the moment i have the room to myself, though not the serenity of that other place. I accept that magic place is gone for the year, my 14 nights used up until next January and that there is a reason why i am here.

I had been afraid to use them up for this has been a very special place for me, one that represents peace and tranquility, but also openness and life, a bounce to my step and more – and i remember… though it is time to move on from there in my mind, hold the love, but let it go, and bring that love into another here and now.

like the city, that hostel is partially a place of my imagination rather than one that is very real, and for a while, when i come, i lose sight of that place i have built up in my mind, and focus instead on what is here, the imperfections and the flaws, and how it does not live up to that image in my head – and i wonder why was i so desperate to return.

I go into the larger dorm, it has be rearranged and has new beds. finally the thin patched foam mattresses, ones i had probably slept on my first visit there 25 year ago, have been replaced. For now it is comfortable, but as the new ones slide around on the metal base, and i can feel a coil against my knee as i sit and meditate, i know they will not endure. As is the case with the kingdom i have claimed. And there is one less bunk than there was before, but somehow the feng shui seems worse than before – the beds which had always been crammed, but were placed in such a way to allow the energy to flow through. At first i am disappointed, “it had changed, it was not as i had been” i say to myself, “this is not the place i came back to, it is so ill thought out” i criticize, what happened i bemoan. Still, in my two nights there i sleep well and deep, love my bottom bunk – that personal space – and the cold that i had lifts away. And i do not want to leave.

I remember other nights there being uncomfortable, the cards for the door not working one time, and all knocking to get in and out, my bed being the one by the door, and the snoring symphony i have endured many a time, or the music from the crowded common room seeping in, or the communal bathroom down the hall feeling so institutional, and the huge kitchen downstairs, a place where i actually cook, being out of forks the last time i was here, but all that slowly goes away, as i feel the lighter energy of the place, both inside and out. and in remembering the place, both now and before, it is not that which comes to mind, but the peace and joy and conversations i have had there.

I walk outside, am greeted by the lawn, around the back, to the view of the bay and the bridge, the sounds are of birds, chirps out fromt and the cries of gulls out back, and a few people strolling by. The hum of traffic is not to be found, and i notice when a car pulls up. I walk down to the wharf one day, and then out to the marina and the golden gate bridge another, exploring the realms beyond, and am so eager to return – to my oasis in the park.

And that is what it is for me – an oasis an oasis in the middle of the city, or rather on the edge, a safe haven from which one might leave to explore but come back to the green and more. And i want to stay there – in the peace and the calm – i retreat to my bed and awaken refreshed, brain fog cleared. for here energy is calm but flowing, alive, but smooth, nurturing without smothering, set apart yet joined and connected, in the city but not of the city. And i am so content to be where i am, and do not really want to move beyond though the waterfront calls, as does the bay, the palace of fine arts, the hills and more. Still, i am so happy where i am. I feel like a princess in my castle, at one and at peace. For a while…

But coming back, i also come back to where i was – one year, two years, three years ago – my places on my journey, and how i have moved along, but perhaps failed to move at all. And i remember the stress i had felt previous times, when it was near the time to move on, the looking and searching of where i might go, and the tension that arose when i got into that zone, a zone that i come back to for a short while. And in this zone, i find the flaws, the dirty sink water in the sink, the broken plugs, the lack of light, the loud group and more and disengage from that light i so wish to hold – as if knowing that i must physcially leave, i leave first emotionally and spiritually. But then, as it is time to go, my heart bursts wide open with love again.

For it is a center, and represents that center inside, life flows in and through, life of joy, energy transformed, stays and moves on again, a fort transformed and represents the ideal me. As i sit outside the last night there before the rain begins to unfurl, i realize that this is a park apart, and though i long to, i cannot really live in a park. or can i?

but alas, it is not a place where i can stay. i tried and asked, but my time was used up. I cried when it was time to leave, a deep sadness and loss overcoming me. I leave my bags for a few hours, not sure of where i will go. I walk behind the hostel to where the path provides a view of the bridge, and the winds pick up but i am not ready to journey on. I head down to the jetty in the drizzling rain, look up at the hill where the hostel sits and know it is sacred ground. I walk and all is beautiful in the drizzle and grey, and San francisco comes to life for me yet again. i cry not wanting to go but walk back up the hill, take my bags and go. not wanting to, but leaving that magical center – heading back into the messy world.

I am in that other place, in the center of the city right now – and feel the love for there but have stopped clinging on. I realize that my relationship to the hostel so represents my relationship to the city – the ideal, the love, the knowing that there is much more, of the fading joys when i see the imperfections and the downside, and the yearning when i am away.

But more, it also represents myself, and that center inside, whose light i must carry into the world. And to carry that center with me wherever i go, for though like the hostel, it may have its flaws and imperfection, but is still so full of light and need not be temporary. And like the hostel grounds in fort mason, it has been, and is being transformed, and is in the city/world but not of the city/world, but is connected, and a special place, with energy flowing through and being renewed. And to this center, i can go back anytime, and am not limited to 14 days per year. And it still here, even in the tenderloin.

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It is not only what we choose to look at and see, but how we perceive, that determines our relation to a place and the world. I see life in many rocks – faces, images, spirits and more constantly appear to me as i walk along, each with a story to be told; of a past, the present, and a future unknown. Hills are no longer vistas, something to be climbed or navigated, a challenge to build upon, but are enchanted structures, rising up, connecting the below with the above, communicating between the worlds.

In the rocks and the earth is an energy stored, an energy that is life. One not merely to fuel our material needs, but one that speaks to our souls. It is an energy of the spirit, of gaia herself, and of the many who have passed on this land long before us. And as i walk i feel the earth as magical, animate, and so very alive. I see the mystery in all i pass, the wisdom contained within, and as i listen i come to life myself, seeing the world as if through the eyes of a child. And that is the way it is meant to be.
I return to Pacifica, that place i often pass through and see the locale through the eyes of a child – the child inside. Not only do i gaze beyond the car filled roads and above the shopping plaza, homes, stores and parking lots to see the hills, behind each section of town, but the low mountains come alive and i see the glory that they are. I stroll the path along the beach, over the headlands to another and up and over again. Along the path, and out to sea, i spot many stones that speak to me – and in them i see both a terror and a magnificence. And i spot yet another hill that looks like a pyramid. I sit down to jot a note, and then down below to watch the ocean roar, and my mind opens up to stories and possibilities galore – of other worlds beyond and before our own.



I drink a coffee, cut through a parking lot, notice the cars streaming by on the road, pick up food for dinner in the grocery store, still holding the mysteries inside. But i wonder as i return to what we call “the world”, if our creation is really it? Just perhaps the world is that which lay beyond our everyday gaze. The hints to this other world surround us, but too often we just zoom on by, seeing a rock as a rock and a hill as a hill – a beautiful vista perhaps. Then i think of the expressions on some of those i passed and acknowledged or said hi to on my stroll, and realize just perhaps i am not alone – that some of the others out that day see a glimpse of the spirits around – be it consciously or not. I wonder, what do the spirits say to them, and to whom do they appear. If rocks could talk i want to write … even though i know they do. Is my vision opening up, or are the spirits begin to speak more?



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There are times we do not see, walk ‘blindly’ down a street, our minds or our gaze focused on other things that call our attention more. But then in a time of darkness, we see a light, one we had overlooked, rushed by, and failed to recognize. I walked by this mural many a time, but it was on a cold, grey, rainy day that I finally saw it there. Perhaps the grey revealed its brilliance more, or perhaps with the grey that had seeped inside i just needed to see it more.

May all beings ...

“May all beings be well and happy.
May all beings be harmonious and peaceful.
May all have the light, the way out of suffering, the way home.
May we each share our wonderous bright nature for the benefit of all beings.”

It warms me against the chill of the day, lighting the candle that lay inside. I am grateful to all those who add life and art to the cities and towns in this way, painting walls of buildings, and inspiring us, bringing the walls and thus the city to life. The artists are not famous, we may not even know who they are, but those who created this, and other art, shared their light not knowing what lights may shine upon them in return.

 

It is not only murals that we blindly pass not realizing the magic that is there, but the people we come across, whom we may not “see” or recognize, but who shine a light if only we would see. But like the colours of a mural or flowers on an overcast rainy day, they stand out when we are able to appreciate them most. And like the murals and public art in San Francisco, they are there if only we look, take a moment, and alter our gaze.

I walk on in the rain, feeling lighter than before, with a smile on my face as i remember other murals and people who have lit up many days.

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I turned my gaze upwards and saw something i had not seen before – a tower looming large overhead. It was there all along, but somehow i never noticed it.I was not seeking it, but suddenly it appeared, i was looking at other things, the twisted branches and tops of trees. But i turned my head and this appeared, the image of a cross and a tower looming overhead, and i began to wonder who is looking down upon us.

Who is Watching Over Us?

 

It was the juxtaposition of the symbols that caught my eye. As i walked that day, found pyramids and more, that tower kept appearing everywhere. Was i blind, for now it appears everywhere i look, and dominates the skyline and my mind. Perhaps it is calling out to me – communicating from above – calling out to all of us. I travelled about, forgetting about it, then i would turn around, look up, and suddenly it was there. And i wonder, just what power does it have – it is this that we worship the most?

So many times, when something comes to us, it begins to dominate our minds, and casts a light or a shadow over all that we see. It appears, and takes hold, and looms above all be it a fascinating discovery, a love, a worry or a fear – we see it everywhere and in all, and build upon what we envision. This tower represents so much of our current society, and i wonder about the vibrations sent out, and how it affects our bodies and our minds. And then it is time to recast the lens, refocus, cast my gaze elsewhere and call in that which illuminates.

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Last Kiss?

“Pacific Grove feels so old ” i have proclaimed many a time. As i walked the trail along Monterey Bay yet again i realized that the ancient nature of the locale was not merely the staidness and demographics of the town, but was contained in the rock formations along the shore. And as i walked along, i realized that it was these ancient relics that drew me here, not merely because of their beauty, but because they contained so much more – a history unknown to us, and a future yet to be revealed.

These stones have power – a power that i have realized many times before, but this time they revealed themselves to me. And subtly they speak to many who are drawn out to lover’s point on a sunny day, or who park their cars to watch the waves lap or pound over the rocks – often mesmerized by the scene. We know, we have built pathways and parks along the shore, but we do not always fully see. I have felt my energies shift here many a time, pulses of life and wisdom coming through many a time – and i have wondered, but have not dared, to ask what truly lays there.

In the rock formations along the west coast i have seen and felt remnants of an ancient civilization – that met a violent end very long ago – i see “beings” trapped in the stone, still alive, wanting to emerge, or perhaps some have already left. And it spoke to me again, of a great upheaval that once occurred, a sudden end to a life long ago, where beings we suddenly trapped in stone – the story of medusa no longer seems so farfetched. Or are there beings that are still alive, transmitting wisdom to us and to far off lands?

A Peaceful Sleep?

An ancient god or someone less benign?

an ancient's head along the shore

 

ancient dolphins on top? i have seen these forms elsewhere inland

another "dolphin" creature waiting to emerge

prophet or seer?

monkey man? ancient alien? just a stone?

 

I wonder if these dynamic remnants are related to the tranquil nature of Pacific Grove? Does the buried memory of that upheaval play into today’s consciousness, even if we do not know why? Is life contained within walls and selves, trapped, muffled, and held down, like the energy within the stones? Or has it long gone, and what remains is but form, something existing, standing still, and waiting to be born? I look across the bay to where the energy pulses strong , and i ask, what was this upheaval, and why does all seem so calm and at times lifeless around? But as with the rocks, there is still a life inside.

Then i remember the bay itself, and how it is the center of the Monterey Bay Marine Sanctuary, and how much life exists here – the seagulls and cormorants that perch on all the rocks, the seals who rest upon the smaller ones and who, with the sea otters, swim around, and the sea lions and whales that pass through, and so many more. And i cannot help wonder if these ancient stone beings help call in and maintain this life. 

   

 

 

 

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I found it today. i was not looking, and lo and behold it was there. I have written previously that i felt that San Francisco was an ancient holy center, and that the hills that it is famous for are truly the remnants of pyramids of a bygone ancient civilization.https://energiesofplace.wordpress.com/2011/01/03/re-enchantment-an-ancient-holy-place/

 

 
  

Today it was shown to me, the mother pyramid, that which was at the center of it all. She is not the tallest hill, but once i spotted her i knew. I have been near her several times, walked beneath her, but was blinded and never saw. Most likely, i had not come from the right direction, for her magic is shrouded from many angles. But she is a park, and people and dogs gather there and is marked on the maps, but somehow i overlooked her before. Maybe i was not ready to see. 

 I spotted her as i was up on Beuna Vista park, one of the hills that has spoken to me as a very special place, not only with the view of the church and the bay (and the ocean on a clear day), but with the magic energy it has. I was not planning to come here, but after a walk to Alamo Square (the first locale where the pyramids spoke to me) and a bite to eat, i was called there despite my fatique and the threat of rain. And once up there, the winds picked up and the sky turned a darker grey, but i was called to walk up and then down a different way – i said go back, it is bound to storm, but my feet kept on taking me down another path – when over the trees, i spotted it, the hill and park which i knew was the main pyramid.

I looked and saw the green grass covered hill, standing noble and seemingly alone, a few paths up were visible as were the rock formations at the top. i knew it was somewhere special, but did not know how to find my way there. The path took me out of beuna vista onto a road where i had never been, in an area where the streets twist and turn, and i was unsure on what direction to go to reach this pyramid. i turned to my right, and then another street turned down, and there it was, a pyramid for sure to be found.

 

I hesitated, not sure which way i wanted to walk up, walked around at the bottom, first to my left past a dog run, but then took the small path with steps that led to the top. The winds picked up and i could feel an oncoming storm, and although i was not too sure where i was, i pressed on.

The rock formations at the top form a different world, and as i went down and up, the wind was intense up there, and i felt like i might blow over at times, but i just wanted to speak with them. They have been painted over in places, to cover graffitti i guess, but i could make out beings in them, overlooking the city and the bay. And i wondered, who is in there? What civilization once was here? For they call back a much more ancient time.

 

 

 

 

 

 

  From the top you had expansive views of the domain, the bay, the city center, and the taller hills to the south. You are in a bowl, but not. hard to explain. I went down in one direction, curious to see (and ok i admit to see if i could find a place to pee), and from the bottom near the randall museum, it just looked like a hill, nothing special. I looked up and a hawk (i think) was floating still in the air, and did so several times, majestically floating in the wind (until i tried to take a picture of him). I used the bathroom, and walked back up, talked to a woman on a bench; few people were around, a guy taking photos when i arrived, and a few lone people with gods who also paused at the rocks. The winds picked up once again, and i just knew this was it; i felt awake and alive and somehow at peace, but although i touched and talked to the rocks, i did not feel a call to sit and linger on oneI descended into the valleys, walking along, and felt my energy change once again.
I finally left, and walked down the hill (i found out where i was from the view at the top), and found myself soon on a few streets i had walked once or twice, but from there, you often do not see, or need to know how to look. i looked at its name, Corona Heights Park – so visible, but so hidden in the winding streets, but right on the 49 mile drive.

 but i know she is there, and yes, that this city was once a sacred place. I only wonder when all will be revealed – what this is now and what it was before. 

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Re-enchantment with the city – an ancient holy place or ceremonial city? hills as pyramids of a time gone by?

I am back once again inSan Francisco, that city by the bay, and today it calls forth delight in me. i am re-enchanted with this place, falling in love once again and feeling the joy and radiant energy pulse through. i did not feel this way when i first arrived, coming into the caltrain station south of market and riding a graffiti filled bus (the first like that) across the city. But once i got to the fort on the bluff where i stay, overlooking the water and the golden gate, sitting for a moment under the eucalyptus trees, i felt connected to this place once again. with the new year i can stay in this international hostel (i long ago used up all my 14 annual nights for 2010), and moved back to the room which brings me joy – not the 8 bed female dorm where my reservations were, but the 24 bed co-ed dorm (are there any other women in here?). But i am in my castle by the bay, an original bluff overlooking the bay, once protruding more before they created more land with infill, and the energy is wonderful here.

Yes i walked the wharf and the areas around, but spent my late afternoon and early evening climbing the hills. And there is a special energy to them, and i cannot but wonder if they are ancient pyramids and if the city was not once a holy ceremonial site of an era and a “peoples’ or other race long gone by.

This came to me on my last brief pass through town, between christmas and new years when i stayed in the center. My one full day, i returned to Alamo Square, a peak in the area that brings me joy, and is so full of life and light in contrast to some of what is around, it is on a hilltop and overlooks the city in all directions and as i looked to the south at twin peaks, and just over to Buena Vista park, and at another whose name i do not know, i felt as if i were in an ancient holy place, and if these hills contained a special energy, and still do today; an energy that all help feed, unconsciously, as smiles light up and joy and views are found, with an appreciation for lighting up the day, and the plants that grow and the dogs that play, all help to maintain the energy that way. that same day, less than a week ago (but eons ago to my warped sense of time) i also went up Buena Vista park, another hill closer to the Haight (whose chaotic strung out energy is yet another story), another place that has many times given me joy, and one where you feel that people are more alive, a hill planted with a variety of trees and turned into a park, with magnificent views of the golden gate bridge, the ocean, and the grand st. Ignatius church. I cannot help but feel that there is more to them than the eye reveals.

It is in these places (and more) that the city reveals its magic to me, and at times it is truly a magical place – but as in Alamo Square and today as i walked around telegraph and russian hills, i avoided looking at the one pyramid that feels nothing less that evil to me – the Transamerica Pyramid building, that infamous icon of the skyline, that which also concentrates energy, connecting earth and sky. the other day i looked at it, and the shapes of the steeples on churches, as i did again today; then the grand St Ignatius church over to the west, and today Saint Peter and Pauls and the St. Francis Assisi churches that lay off Columbus street, and saw how spirit and energy can be directed; but that pyramid – which haunts the city – with be the subject of another, darker, entry.

but today i went up Telegraph Hill and around Coit Tower just about sunset; the land felt lighter as i wandered up the streets, and the pink in the sky over the bay that faded away, remained in my heart. Another hill preserved with a park, and that tower that glows out at night; that magical tower where i thought to head the cloudy, rainy night of the lunar eclipse, that tower that inspires frivolous thoughts, and also calls back to a life i might once have had.

I walk down after dark, a cheap bite off Columbus street, the evil tower dominates what i consider to be the lower one, and then i was called up russian hill. I felt a magic return to me as i walked up the steep streets, nowhere in particular, but to the highest points for a view, and for photos of coit tower glowing in the dark and the spire of saint peters and pauls church – none which came out too well. i walk and feel lightened, and start to sing, i turn down a street and stop for a while, and realize it was the very place i stood when the beginning of the lunar eclipse came into view, and tonight i felt the joy that i did then; and of course grace cathedral and the labyrinth that i walked that night, sits on nob hill, a short walk away. And to these hills, the ones that help make san francisco famous, people come and feel something more, and in their delight help retain that energy in place.

The hills are low and we can climb up and the streets go straight up and down; we can ascend and come back down. The layout of them makes me ask, could they have been planned out long ago? There is something more, a lighter feel, connected yet apart from down below. this is an area i need to explore, for once again that insatiable sense that there is so much more. That once upon a time, long, long ago….

tonight i did not descend to that center where too many lives are hollowed out – i will return to help spread light there – but tonight i returned to the bay, and as i walked up the hill towards the fort where i stay i looked over the water below and then out towards the now darkened golden gate, and saw it as the gateway to another world – a world where i feel enchanted, and alive – which seems magical even as i lay in a bunk bed, smelling old sweat and socks, and wish that it could always be this way. but i also feel that this was once a ceremonial center, a holy place, and thus perhaps it is one we come as pilgrims to, to embrace what is here, to give it thanks and love, and to feel the special power of this place, a power to bring forth with us. i will be here a few more days, this time engaged in different activities, and i honour the power of the hills by the bay.

And i feel an interesting pulsing and moving of energy from the earth right now – no not a quake, but an underlying vibration of light, the light that calls me and others here, and that light that is beyond us all.

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The day i left Montara i felt the energies shifting again, the ground less stable and a low-lying feeling of dread – like something was about to give. A storm was coming in that morning, and arrived by late afternoon, but by then i was another world away, returning to the place where i had come from. but like my experience walking the labyrinth several nights before, i did not feel like quite the same person when i got back to the center again.

I had not planned to return to san francisco right away, but it had been in the back of my mind, and my journey led me that way. i had looked up first night on the internet, and thought of going to monterey, but with transit connections, it could be tough, or mean a very long layover, if i tried to in a single day. Now santa cruz was mid way, and for a while i convinced myself that i needed to face the energies there – the ones that had knocked me over and down on previous visits – to greet them head on and push through. But the lord told me no by blocking me path – and i returned to the city by the bay.

Cell reception was iffy at the hostel on the point, a weak signal coming in and out. i tried over and over to call the hostel in santa cruz, but they did not pick up the phone. so i called the orange villa in san francisco – tried to make reservations there – would be easier online, but could not change the dates to “today”, and got cut off several times – but the woman called me back, and left a voice mail, yes they would hold a bed until i got there – so helpful and friendly, i was glad to go.

That morning as i sat by the ocean, a bit in panic mode, i felt something was going to go, and that feeling of quake dread came up, a shift in the land and the air and more. i walked into the little town of montara and caught the bus to pacifica – wanting to get out of there – onimous feelings coming up, and as i rode the few twisting miles on the cliffs by the ocean, i wondered if i were getting out just in time. the transit exchange in pacifica is by the ocean and on low ground. I had 40 minutes to wait for my next bus, and as i did i felt all becoming less solid again – and felt like i did that day in Crescent City last July, when i just had to head inland. a few had warned me of new age predictions for a quake following the lunar eclipse, but from what i felt and watching the animals, I did not feel anything ominous before in that respect despite the energies that were pulsing in. But now i began to wonder, for it felt like something was about to give. I wanted to make it inland before all gave way. I seemed to be in a twilight zone under the grey hazy sky, and the atmosphere of pacifica – poorer and more multi-ethnic – was a world away from the zone i had just left.

I got into the city, riding BART from Daly City – collapse on my mind at first, but after i went through the tunnels that took me to the center, it dissipated somewhat – and as i emerged at powell station – my main question was why am i here? But i felt the call to walk around with the drizzle and all.

I was called to the civic center area, where i have felt “something there” many a time on previous visits to the city. There is a pulse, beyond or beneath the buildings and people and the large open square, and once again i wondered about underground streams or fractures of something more. And i also asked why this locale was chosen for the impressive buildings and governing center. In the area and on Larkin St – i feel a sense of being which i cannot describe.

There was feeling of ground slipping as i walked west on market street between the civic center and the castro. As grey turns to drizzle and to rain, the ground seems less firm, and i return to a twilight zone. The sense of all not really being as it seems returned and i like i felt like i did in seattle this spring the first few days near pikes place market. all feels surreal, i wonder if it will dissolve. The rain comes down more, so i go for a coffee and a bite to eat, and re-emerge on the concrete streets, walking in the light rain. night is coming, i return to my room, and the skies open up and pour down below. And by the next morning i feel something has changed, though the land did not give out that night.

The next morning i walked out again, to the library in the civic center area, and then beyond through hayes valley, walking a street i rarely did. i turn a corner, pick up a coffee, and sit down. Suddenly a stillness and peace came upon me – that i had not felt in a long time – a true presence and calm that felt so new to me, and i radiated in that for a while – being truly present and at one with it all.

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I went out to lover’s point today – in pacific grove by monterey. Today i once again here felt the energies pour through me and this time, unlike the last, did not wander out too far. i felt the joy of the place and a deep sense of gratefulness for all that was there. I felt the power of the stones thrust up, a reminder of a time gone by, and could feel the joy of the others who climbed out on this point at low tide. And i was grateful for the day, and the parks and paths that took me here, for all who created them and maintain them to this day. As i walked i looked at the dogs and the wildlife around – the seagulls and mures or cormorants out on the rocks, and as i turned back, the seals who balanced upon them, looking like rocks themselves. I felt at peace and a calm, and a reminder to seek the good inside, to seek out the kernels of light, rather than those of dark. Energies came through intensely out on that point, as they have before, and i realize why it is such a special place and why all continue to make it so. i walked out a bit and then back towards the city and the bay, distracted for a while, until i saw more seals on rocks and the beach, seagulls flying around, a few sea otters with their dense fir, and two cranes by the touristy fisherman’s wharfs. The rocks have power in their uplift, but it is people who help preserve the bay today, and i am thankful for all the forces that have made this a special place.

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The energies came over me – pulsing through as i came into view of the pillar point air force station – pain in my wrist, my back, a strange headache when near an antenna outside the base but that belonged to it. all was so intense and i was so driven to find out more – but that was now 4 days ago, and i am in another locale and what i experienced now slips away from me. The energy was strong when i first got to the area, and i felt hit all over – at the point montara lighthouse just before christmas, in the aftermath of the eclipse i felt attacked by some strange energetic force – hitting my solar plexus and grabbing onto my tongue. but that had passed and i was now out walking on a sunny day – feeling the calm after the rain and wind storm of christmas day, and the internal storms of the previous week.

many were out walking on the sunday after christmas but i felt uneasy in the land – pulses and slippings off and on since i had been by seal cove and sat out by montara lighthouse when i first arrived here. Still i walked back and felt drawn towards that other point, with surreal radar station with antennas and large white balls on the edge of a pennisula marking the north end of half moon bay. and from the map i see that i could follow side streets and a path way all the way there. I walked through moss beach and the main area fitzgerald marine park, looked at the seals down the cliff once again, and followed the path out to the other side, and down more streets, until it started up again, I found ocean avenue which was blocked off, but then saw many people and dogs walking and realized it was now a footpath – at some point it had buckled and cracked and was now closed and overgrown, and i began thinking about earthquakes and faults that dotted the land, at this point i did not yet know, that the san gregorio fault, also known as the seal cove fault, came on land right here in this area, between the park and the point. The second part of the park was up ahead, rolling cliffs on land being restored over the sea. dogs and people passing through. the sun began to give way to grey. walking towards the point i began to feel uneasy – a sign says trail ends here but people and dogs kept going on, and others were coming from there. it was just a sign, saying trail ends, private property, but nothing about no trespassing, and the trail was just as wide as before. Still, i had been feeling pulses in different locales, and something more came on as i neared the end – before the road and parking lot for the marsh lands and the trail out the base of pillar point.

a strange headache came up, a searing pain in my right wrist, more that is now a blur, but i felt unbalanced physically, and stumbled a bit on the trail. after i went down to where the cars were and into town it went away. i went by the marsh, and had to cross a polluted stream where dogs swam to get to the beach that connected to the town which was busy on this holiday. interacted with the town a bit and then went back over the bluff – again felt pain in joints, the wrist again, strange pains up and down my back and felt like i had to puke – walked on felt uneasy but then it went away. I sat down on a bench and called on the angels of light to help heal this land and felt calmer then.

Still that night i had to find out more – just what were these radars and this base, and could it be linked to what i had felt when i first arrived. This is a bit of what i learned:

“The Pillar Point AN/FPQ-6 and AN/MPS-36 radars are highly accurate G-band radars owned by the VAFB’s [Vandenberg Air Force Base] Western Range (WR). These radars can be used for tracking objects off the coast of central California. Data from the Point Mugu and VAFB metric radars are exchanged over 16 multiplexed channels for TSPI track and sensor positioning.
The AN/FPQ-6 is a Missile Precision Instrumentation Radar (MIPIR) class monopulse tracking radar used to provide position data on aircraft, missiles, space boosters, and orbiting bodies. The site can track in either skin mode or in conjunction with vehicle-borne transponders. The radar’s large antenna and high power coherent transmitter make the site’s data quality very high. The sensor can also provide Doppler-derived range rate data on skin or coherent transponder tracks. Non-owners may utilize the services of the radar, but site operations and maintenance is limited to the Western Range contractor.

The California Coast has few protective points. Pillar Point is one of them. The Point at night with its string of lights looks like the largest battleship in the American fleet. Source globalsecurity.org.

The property owned by the U.S. Air Force continues to be used as part of the missile tracking installation. Four of the remaining seven acres are currently owned by the San Mateo Harbor District and are being developed into a wetlands habitat. The remaining three acres are privately owned and undeveloped. ”

And i learned that Pillar Point is used for telemetry systems -. receiving and recording stations at vandenberg afb and pillar point afs with their associated antennas aquire record and transmit telemetry data to the vandenberg data processing equipment through microwave data transmission systems; metric tracking – radar tracking for range safety and as a command control center.

I began to wonder if it was the wavelengths themselves that could be hitting me (the area is closed at night) as i know that when i arrive in a city after being in more isolated areas i can feel blown away by the electromagentic smog for a few days. I also wondered what messages could have been conveyed over those radars those nights – from where and of what quality and intent. Those answers i do not know and may never know … but i can’t help wondering. The light still shown and turned at the short lighthouse as i sat on a bench on a cliff over the sea, and there was a spot as i walked i a direct inland path from the lighthouse towards the building where i slept, that the land just felt a bit less firm. I looked behind at the old bunker behind bench and remembered the land has also once been owned by the airforce.

And it was also then that i learned that i was almost on top of an active fault – the seal cove fault – part of the san gregorio fault – and had certainly been when i had been out walking that day – was i picking up on the earths vibrations here? i’m sure i was. and then i had to ask, why was that airforce tracking station located right there – where the fault line goes out to sea? and the main base is also located in an area of numerous faults. Could there be communication from the skies to the center of the earth, or do the faults help with communications? This lighthouse where i stay has once been air force property and was there any link here? were the faults becoming more active? but the next day, when i had to go back again, i saw that the seals and the other animals were calm.

i stayed another day – determined to take the walk below the point to see what i felt. I felt some trepidation about this, and seriously wondered if i would be harmed, but i was driven strongly be the need to discover more. something was pushing or pulling me forwards towards the point. as i walked through the park and by the seals i was tempted to turn around, and again on the roadway that has buckled somtime ago, but as i approached the high bluff, i called on god, and the angels of wisdom, love and light to protect me and to help me transmit that energy. The park was emptier that day – and in the beginning felt eerie to me, but i kept on calling on the angels to guide me forth. i walked with awareness of the fault that cut through the land, and of the air force station, and felt the vibrations less intensely. Again i felt land slipping in a few locales and different pulses from the land(but that happens other places for me as well),but the negative thought forms that siezed me before stayed away. below the point i found dogs and people walking along, and wondered if it had all been a dream. i had walked further out towards the ocean that day, and not was close to the antenna, but when i passed under its shadow on the road, i felt my shoulders begin to dance, and waves pulse through once again and energy coming on strong. then i remembered the maps i had looked at the night before, and it occured to me this antenna must be standing precisely on top of the fault. I then went to the town of pillar point and caught a bus to the hostel.

i don’t know what the energies were – and as always words fail me, and now i know something came through me, but feel as if my memory has been erased. or is it now that i have moved on, and through different locales, so it is a blur once more, the intensity of all having slipped away.

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