Posts Tagged ‘earth energies’


Entry to energy line

Red rocks and twisted trees.
Red rocks, red soil,
twisted trees
a vortex, or energetic hotspot
something is here
all is dry
a different feel
than other lands where i have been.

feminine stones, soft and flowing
i imagine lava bending into shape

the wind blows
in this bend,
louder here
as if to speak.

Clouds float overhead
My camera does not capture the red.
Around a corner there is more.

Twisted trunks shedding bark
seemingly dead
but with tiny leaves or needles up above

An energy that is unfamiliar
one that is strong,
wind blows again
a high-pitched sound in my ears
a sound not of the wind
a power is here
and i feel it

a dried up creek
but is it
an energetic line

i walk on, up the path
the zigs and zags up the hill
crossing this line
and something is there
veins of minerals, or more?
I know there is more.

I am walking up Red Hill, just on the edge of Carbondale. It is my first time here. As i had passed by on a few occasions, on the bus, these vibrant hills of red called to me. The last time i noticed a parking lot by an intersection where the bus would drop me, and people with dogs heading up what looked to be a fire road. So i came.

A series of trails for mountain bikes, joggers, people walking there dogs starts just up the road on the BLM lands that extends for miles. I veer to the left on the Three Gulch Trail, the one that is furthest from the highway noise. I had read, that the views from this area are wonderful, and that they are, of the valley below, the mountains, especially of the snow covered Sopris peak that glimmers under the changing sky.

But it is the land on this hill that calls to me, that speaks to me. The rocks that seem playful and gentle, the spindly trees that twist around, telling of something in the ground, Despite the cars below, few people are around, and those that pass me as i take almost an hour to walk a mile, stopping at so many places, seem unaware, jogging to get fit, conquering the trails on mountain bikes, or prattling on about the mundane concerns of daily life – not hearing the power of the land, or at least not deeply, for something calls them here.

I look out beyond, and then at the rocks and trees, A power calls to me as i approach an area, one that seems more alive, and different. The rocks call as do the trees and what seems to be a dried up creek or energy line, a vortex perhaps. All becomes sharper and clearer, and i feel different, The sound in my ears, pressure in my head, a sense of energy moving through my brain as my nose twitches and becomes more alive. The earth is red. So many gatherings of worn, gentle stones, a woman reclining before a tree and i smile. In contrast to the soft nature of the rocks, the trees are twisted and contorted, as if reacting to pulses below.

I reach the top, the land has turned grey, a different strata of rock. The magic is gone, a different period revealed up here. I descend, take another path down, less alive, more travelled it seems, away from that line or creek or vein that called. Then i come upon another cluster, and feel something more again. I walk down, and as i hit the dirt road, my left arm starts swinging on its own like a pendulum, as if acting independently, picking something up. This happened a few days before, as i was on another red hill, the Red Mountain Trails by Glenwood Springs, and as i descended, my left arm took on a life of its own, and my hand felt like the hand of another. What i am picking up in this land? What secrets does it contain?

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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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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 stay at the lighthouse one more night, and yet another night. The storm has passed over and through both the land and myself, and for a moment the energies have calmed. but like the soil that is drenched and soaked by the rains, transformed and still containing the elements that have poured down upon it, i too feel like i have been hit hard by a rush and though not reeling with it anymore, am still processing it through.

The last few days since i arrived have been difficult in many ways – and rewarding in others – and how it feels like it has been much longer than 3 (now 5) days – a lifetime, and i can no longer capture some of what i felt – and to a certain extent i don’t want to – just let it pass through.

For the energies of both the land and the culture came up and tore me apart, pulsing through and grabbing on, shaking me up like a major quake – filling my thoughts, emotions and body with that which i could not ignore, with that which threatened to consume, with that which i must admit is there. and with everything all is intertwined, what belongs to what i do not know and what is grabbing upon me that i am picking up on and what is that coming out from within?

the land here is powerful – i have felt in ways before – to the south and the north though i have never been in this specific locale. I am by the ocean, on a cliff, on the other side of the san andreas fault – and here i have felt the energy pulsing through before – the ground less solid beneath my feet in places along the path, the waves that flow throughout my body, and that which i feel that tries to grab on – at times attacking my solar plexus and more – the tongue loosens and then gets tied up, feeling as if it cannot speak, but when it does, i feel energy flowing from myself and my hands much stronger than before. thought forms grab on, and try to seize tearing me to the ground, tears well up and smiles, as if powerful forces are hanging on – i feel alive and threatened, i feel something pulsing through. The intensity of despair, but then calm and god granting small miracles showing me to have faith. And thoughts return, i judge, both the place and myself, revealing what was not gone – communities and larger geographic representations of life forms.

On the way down on the bus i passed through much of pacifica – a place where i had been with my dad – did not go out on the wharf where i had been several times – the first with large waves beneath, the strength felt up above. The bus winds its way through Pacifica – through a residential neighbourhood up on the hill – it is a bit rundown, perhaps even on the verge of a “bungalow slum” although it is more split levels around, and i feel something is off. as the bus winds its way down the curvy streets, yes with sidewalks, an emptiness prevails and then it slams me on what it is – none of the homes have a front door – there are no front doors here – and i feel that is what has brought the area down, cheaply constructed post-war (poss 60s or 70s homes) that are showing their age though most are somewhat maintained, but there are no front doors, porches, or anything that can bring a sense of community to the street. A garage door and a bay window is what you see out front, and a narrow walkway around to the side, where lay a small door for human beings tucked away out of site – many blocked off so it seems, but you really cant see the door from the street.

I go to half moon bay the very next day – another community all together though not really that far down the road – the hostel where i stay lays in between. the main street is cute, with upscale stores and restaurants, and you feel the monied element here – that which is very self-aware – or involved – the playground of the suave bourgeoisie. And there is feel eyes upon me, and the hard looks of the eyes upon me, and feel like i am being judged – though is it i who is judging – but i feel poor and like i do not belong – a feeling that i have had in these towns before – i feel myself weakening and feeling bad about myself –

Here i am reminded that California is about the privatized american dream in many ways

my instinct tells me it is an interplay of several factors – yes, the land itself – perhaps being on the other side of the san andreas fault – i am very sensitive to earth energies – and perhaps a warning not just for me – feel powerful forces and pulses in the land and land ‘slipping’ beneath my feet – less solid underneath and rushes of energy pulsing and hitting my solar plexus and more, and a scrambling of the mind, and tongue being grabbed onto so i cannot utter a coherent word – and some i believe is directly tied to the energies of the land.

-some i also feel is tied to the “social structure” here and the path, that i said i was not following but perhaps i did – so much here is building up private lives and the good for oneself, the spirituality and good life that is so self-absorbed – the divide between the “progressive” rich communities who cast out the poor and build walls and borders so not to be “contaminated” by it. it is something i see through, but i have given little myself and failed to plant the seeds. and i tend to easily pick up on though forms around (and some much more than others that resonate and find a way in)-

i know there is a greater force here that latches on – and perhaps it tried to warn me away – but i came back to a similar place perhaps to let it speak – i know it resonates with me (and i have seen it resonate with and destroy others or try to hold on which seems to be located to place) because of something i carry inside, and it feels like a dark energy that just wants to win, and tries to tear me down, maybe this is the final battle and i just pray that i win. and maybe i was called back here for this

– while part is my own BS and karma coming home – i wanted to give but never felt wanted and shrunk back – i also feel something larger is attacking me – rested for a while – but the energy here is intense. and there is little feeling of christmas in the air and tommorow i might spend 4 hours out in the rain alone during lock out with nothing open around – and worst of all, i know i brought myself here – not only through the precise decision to come here at this moment, but with all the actions and non-actions of the past several years – so much driven by fear – i wanted to connect – but never knew how and never felt others wished to connect with me – and now i am paying the price for it all – (later – and all those thoughts and emotions totally consumed me until i wanted to tear my neck apart and scream and cry and end it – but this was the energy that came up – negative, judgemental thoughts, anger, worry, and dread, stories over and over again – some out of nowhere so it seemed)

perhaps I came to the hostelling international non-profit green hostel which promotes farmers markets and holds vispassina meditation once a week etc. because i believed they wouldn’t actually lock people out in the rain on christmas day (and they have someone working the espresso bar (with organic coffee) on staff anyways – but i guess i have been shown this before – never directly – and the answer is yes they would – i guess i just wanted to imagine that it was different – but to remember there are alot of angels out there – not always who you think – and i guess some of this reflects a disillusionment with many ideals – something that has been in my face for so long not.

There was an unheated out building you could spend time in, but i met someone and headed out for the day – a christmas lunch at the shopping plaza in pacifica of all things. but that evening, like my first night here, i interacted with others who were living out their lives, and engaged in meaningful conversation and heard interesting stories for a change. like the first night, talk was less, i feeling a bit outside, but made a collage of inspiration for 2011, and joined in activities which felt good. and i learned that faith is important, and not to loose faith, for somehow i have always gotten through, i craved an invitation and received on, and other interaction too. and i saw how those dark forces make my project the worst, and how they latch on and i crawl inside. Tonight there are few to interact with, but that is ok, and i am being shown the effects of dark energy in another.

but now is two days later, another rush of intense energies and discovering some of the landscape around, the internal screaming has calmed down, and i feel emptier inside – an attack in the room in another way – woman who crackles and slams all around and grunts at people shares my dorm – resonating hostility is what i feel, and feel it the second she walks in.

and it is interesting this melange of energies and what we interact with – for the energies are always multiple, and effect us to varying degrees, and which are linked or open up other pathways. tonight i feel bland, not sad nor happy, just finally that it is time to leave – for i discovered some of the ongoing energies of this place – beyond the stars and tail end of the moon, the after effects solstice or eclipse, the people, social structure and broken privatized spiritual dream, the christmas day rain and wind storm that blew in hard, but with the land and radar stations to be written up in my next entry. And maybe that is what being at a lighthouse is about as well – shining light through the dark storms, and fog)

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