The Sleeping Dog

Free Yoga Classes

2012-02-01T13:45:00.001-07:00

I recently completed a three week intensive yoga teacher training program in Nicaragua. I have been practicing yoga since my first trip to India in 2008. My practice had always been very spiritual and meditation based; somewhere between yin yoga and hatha yoga. I really believe that breathing practices are the key to yoga, therefore, slower postures that allow me to really "get into my breath" are a prominent part of my practice.

I have a few ideas for classes that I would be good at leading, and the reason for my writing this post is to find out what kind of classes you are interested in taking so that I can tailor my teaching to suit your practice. This is a query letter only, please contact me even if you think you might be interested. Contacting by no means obligates you to take a class.

Since I'm a beginner teacher, I'm very interested in teaching beginners; all those people out there who have thought about taking yoga but have not found the motivation to go into a studio to try it. I'll introduce you to basic postures and explain yoga in a broader perspective to give you some understanding of what yoga has to offer.
I began yoga because of lower back pain, stiff back muscles and sciatica. In my case it was a combination of intense labour work and sitting to drive or sitting at a desk that caused the pain. I have studied and practiced many methods for eliminating the pain. I would very much like to offer a class specifically focusing on the lower back. This class is perfect for blue collar workers or desk workers who can't imagine themselves in a yoga class but are interested in learning how to manage their back pain on their own. You could consider this class as more of a postural alignment class then
For those who are interested in the spiritual, scriptural side of yoga I would be very interested in talking about the Bhagavad Gita. I am no expert with this text, but I have studied it in depth and read numerous commentaries on it. I am also familiar with the Patangali's Yoga Sutras and Indian philosophy/psychology in general. If you would like to learn more about these texts I would be more than happy to discuss them with you.
And for those interested in pranyama (breathing) and/or meditation I can coach you through these practices, discuss the benefits, and teach several different methods of each to bring more peace and awareness to your life.
If any other newly certified yoga teachers would like to also practice teaching, I would love to trade classes with you.

Where? Edmonton, Alberta, Canada (depending on the response to this offer: at my home or yours. If there is a large response, then I will look into renting a larger space)

When? March and April (specific times to be discusses)

Contact? Mike Holliday -- holliday.michael@gmail.com

Donations for my time will be appreciated, but not in the least expected. I'm certain that I will benefit from the experience as much as anyone. If you know anyone who might be interested, please pass this along.

5 Things I Learned at Yoga Teacher Training

2012-01-29T11:25:00.001-07:00

So I've just completed three weeks of intensive yoga teacher training at a beautiful beach resort in Nicaragua. I already knew many of the overlooked things about yoga: yoga is meditation/stillness, yoga is ultimate relaxation, yoga is accepting not expecting, yoga is the experience of beauty. But I also learned a few things about teaching yoga.

1. Teaching yoga isn't really about teaching, it's about creating a space and an environment where people can teach themselves; creating a mental space where they can answer their own questions; where they can find the right questions to answer.

2. A person does not have to be a master yogi to teach yoga; authenticity is more than enough. A yoga teacher is more like a master student who, through their own method of inquiry, can inspire others to inquire. Since no one can have the answers that another person seeks, it's enough that a yoga teacher has questions to which they seek answers.

3. The Hellenistic sage was right when he said that man can be happy on the rack. I was strapped into metaphoric emotional rack just before going into my teacher training and found a great deal more happiness in my emotional well than I did suffering.

4. Enlightenment is not the goal of yoga. Yoga has no goal or purpose; there is nothing to be achieved through yoga. Yoga is merely action; being present. We don't push ourselves to greater feats of contortion for any reason other than to be present in the moment. If it takes total concentration to do a headstand or maintain the flow of breath and movement then your mind isn't wandering off into the past or the future. The past and the future are two of the great illusions that the masters always speak of. If your mind is focused on the present moment it's truly in a blissful place.

5. For every teacher, for every teaching there are people to whom that teacher or teaching will resonate. We all have our place in the world. We all have something to teach and we all have much to learn. There are many people in this world who would like to understand what you understand; yoga teacher training merely offers techniques for sharing your gifts. We all have gifts that that we have been blessed with by nature and experience; being a yoga teacher is merely a means of sharing our gifts with others.

If you have any lessons that you gained from being a yoga teacher, please share them with me so that I and others can benefit from your experience.

Om shanti, peace, peace, peace to all.

Five things I've learned from yoga

2012-01-04T15:48:00.000-07:00

As many of you know, I'm chilling out in Mexico right now awaiting my flight to Nicaragua where I will spend a month studying yoga. It is a teacher training program so in the future I might also begin teaching regular classes, but for now, I merely hope to increase my knowledge of yoga and of my own body.

I have been studying yoga since 2008, but I have been learning about my body and ways to feel more comfortable in it for at least 20 years. Over the years I have made some elementary, but non-the-less startling discoveries. I will share some of those with you now and I hope to continue sharing my journey into my body-mind as I attempt to go deeper than I've ever gone before.

1. Breathing is fundamental to health, emotion, and mental clarity and concentration. Breath affects everything. It wasn't until I was about 25 years old that I learned that we can breath properly to promote health or in improper ways that will deteriorate our health. The one very simple rule of breathing is to expand and contract your abdomen (your belly) when you breath. Don't use your chest. And try to breath evenly; every breath should take just as long as the one before it.

When you're feeling some kind of stress, be it anger, sadness, or powerlessness; breath. "Take deep breaths." This is common advice, but it's also a proven and highly effective method of gaining control of your emotion and attaining a sense of calm. But there's no need to believe me, you can experiment with your breathing for yourself and see what physical and mental changes take place when you alter your breath.

Breathing Experiment: a) First take about ten quick shallow breaths while expanding and contracting only your chest. In ten short breaths you will start to feel anxious and unsettled. b) Now calm yourself by taking ten long slow breaths expanding and contracting only your abdomen. A sense of calm will quickly be imposed upon your mind. c) Now if you really want to play with your emotions, contract your abdomen (draw your belly-button in towards your spine) as you inhale, and expand your abdomen as you exhale. This is opposite of how you should normally breath and you will quickly realize this by the tension it will cause. d) Please take another ten deep slow even breaths while expanding your abdomen while you inhale and contracting it on the exhale.

By focusing on and engaging your abdominal muscles as you inhale and exhale you can do a lot to strengthen and tone you abdomen. This will also do a lot to clear the mind of negativity while promoting peace and increasing your ability to concentrate.

2. Lift with your legs. Your legs are the strongest muscles in your body; use them. Keep your back straight and bend from your hips. And of course, use proper breathing: inhale as you crouch down to pick the heavy item up. As you lift, close your glottis (the bottom of your throat) and exhale without allowing any air to escape. This will exert pressure on your spine internally which will protect it from damage. Allow the air to escape once you're standing and the item is lifted to the desired height.

3. Don't waste your time dwelling on the past or the future. Our memories of the past are often mistaken. What we often think of as 'the good old days' were usually hell going though them. Sure we were probably stronger, healthier and more handsome in our youth, but we were most likely making mistake after mistake as went thru it. And the future might be full of hopes and dreams and plans for better days ahead, but it's completely unpredictable; besides it's not the outcome of your actions that is important, it's your actions themselves. Make the best of every moment and the future will work itself out.

4. Life is a mixture of free will and determinism. We have no control over the things life will throw at us, but we must make choices to deal it. We don't have any control over what the outcome of choices will be, but we must make these choices non-the-less. Take a deep breath and choose wisely.

5. We are all part of the same organism. We are all part of the same consciousness. Think Gaia Think God. Think of the butterfly effect. Everything we do affects everything else. Try to spend as much time honing your instincts as you do sharpening your intellect. Your instincts are often wiser than your intellect.

Yoga for the Lazy (and the cheap)

2011-12-29T15:26:00.000-07:00

In my last article, I mentioned that yoga was even good for lazy people, and of course it didn't take long for someone to write to me challenging this assertion. But have you ever began a day off work just wanting to spend the day doing nothing but sitting around the house, only to find yourself overcome by a feeling of boredom. Or maybe it's some muscle cramp that forces you to get up off your ass and move around a bit. In any case, it can be very difficult to sit still sometimes. This is where yoga can help you.

One of the main reasons for all those yoga stretches is to allow you to sit comfortably and do nothing for long periods of time. Just imagine being able to sit for two or three hours, or even a whole day and do nothing. Oh the peace, oh such laziness. Yoga can help you to do this.

With practice, your conscience won't be burdened my those dirty dishes by the sink and any thoughts of that report due Monday morning will just pass through your mind like a plane high in the sky without burdening you in the least. You will find that even your grumbling belly can wait until your good and ready to get up off your lazy ass before you have to feed it. The levels of laziness you can attain with yoga are unparalleled.

And talk about cheap. Not only is that rubber mat not a necessity, but once you can sit comfortably anywhere, you don't even need any furniture for your home. Sure guests might be a little confused when they don't see any tables and chairs, but if they know you to be a cheap and lazy person that you are, they won't complain, they'll just stretch out on the floor beside you and forget about it. And with all the inward looking yoga will teach you to do, you won't need a TV or a stereo or books or pictures or anything. You won't believe how much money you can save with yoga. But then again you'll have to since you didn't get that report finished for the Monday morning meeting.

Yoga for my back: Yoga for a man

2011-12-29T12:45:00.000-07:00

When I was 16, I slipped a disk in my back for the first time. The pain was horrible and it caused me to miss much of my last year of high school. I was fortunate that my teachers were sympathetic and gave me adequate grades to get into university when i eventually chose this route. This was in the mid-1990's when bed rest and pain killers was still the prevailing therapy recommended for sever lower back back pain and sciatica. Over the years I have done physiotherapy, chiropractors, acupuncture, muscle relaxants, and for a while doctors even talked about surgery. I eventually filled a shoe box with recommended exercises. Many of these things worked, but once my back was feeling better they were put aside until the next "flare up" of pain. It was pretty much and annual thing that affect my work, my education, my relationships, and most certainly my happiness.

I eventually thought to try kung fu, which seemed to work miracles, but after a few years, a dislocated shoulder, a couple sprained ankles, and some broken ribs, I began to reconsider the overall health benefits of this art. The "flare ups" were also still occurring quite regularly, though not for as long nor not as sever as in the past, but it was not uncommon for me to twist, or be twisted in the wrong way only to find myself hobbling home hunched over and in pain while once again comforting myself with a T3 (pain killers) and a couple Robaxacet (muscle relaxants). Eventually I decided that even though I was "taking it easy" and avoiding any full contact classes, there was still enough of an aggressive aspect to Kung fu that it was not quite what I was looking for. This was when I first began to consider yoga.

My fear of yoga (yes, looking back it was a fear) was that it was very much an activity for women and I didn't want to be perceived as some pervert taking yoga classes just to check out the hot yoga girls doing their sexy poses. Yes, I think many men avoid yoga for this very reason. It's not uncommon for people to have irrational fears about the way the opposite sex will perceive their actions; think about how many women will order something light on a first date even though they may be dying to order the pork tenderloin with backed potato and sour cream. So for the next five years I maintained this fear and did nothing but see, and certainly feel, my back pain and my sciatica getting worse. Weeks went by when I was barely able to get out of bed. I was living alone and I can remember the fear wether rational or not, that I might not ever walk again. Days would go by when I wouldn't eat and my home eventually became filthy from neglect; it was all I could do to get myself to the toilet when I had to go. Taking a shit caused excruciating pain. I had no money to spare at this time and if it wasn't for the help of a benevolent chiropractor/acupuncturist I'm not sure what would have became of me. He got me thru the worst of it but once again when I began to feel better I stopped seeing him and stopped doing the necessary exercises at home.

It's wasn't until 3 years after this last major "flare up," five years after quitting Kung fu, that I bought a ticket to India to learn yoga and see something of this strange and poverty stricken country that had fascinated me for many years. It was only a few days before my 30th birthday when I got on the plane, and though I wasn't in crisis, I was certainly in a lot of pain. I was most certainly afraid of the possibility of having another major "flare up" while being so far from home.

It didn't take long for me to stumble into my first yoga class. Someone said come'on, lets go, and as I was following I asked where we were going. Before I knew it I was breathing through alternate nostrils and contorting myself into shoulder stands and even sitting cross-legged on the floor in comfort. After a few months of yoga and meditation and meeting hugely inspiring people my back pain was gone. It took me about a year of intermittent classes before I started my own routine practice at home. And other than some minor back aches I haven't had any problems in almost five years.

Some of the advantages of yoga over all the other treatments is that it asks the practitioner to know their body better; too feel and focus on the activity and inactivity of every part of the body. Body awareness is central to yoga. For years I allowed "professionals" tell me what was causing the back pain. The doctor would say stretch this way but not that, the chiropractor would say don't stretch that way, stretch this way. Through yoga I have learned when to stretch one way and when to stretch the other. The diagnosis arises from within. But it's not just body awareness that I have learned, mind awareness has taught me to deal with physical pain without the use of drugs. "Witnessing" the pain, "witnessing" my thoughts has allowed me to focus and concentrate on what is important: like doing the stretches that will keep my body healthy, like doing the the work that will keep my life on track, and on the very simple fact that my happiness is not dependent on anything apart from myself.

I cannot overstate the benefits of yoga. Whether your pain is physical or mental, yoga can help; it really is a complete system with such host of techniques that there is something there for everyone. Don't be frightened of yoga if you're injured or lazy or out of shape. Even if you're a macho man or shy or scared you can do yoga. It's a lifestyle choice that anyone can make.

I wish you all peace and harmony and love.

The Silence of Protest

2011-11-29T18:10:00.001-07:00

People all over the world are rising up in protest. Everyone has their issue or issues, but what all protesters have in common is the feeling (real or imagined) that they do not have a voice in the governance of their country, the land, or the society of which they are a part. Some are silenced by fear, others by law, or politics or economics or culture or mass media itself.

When I consider what it is that muffles my voice as a citizen of Canada, I think of NAFTA and other free trade agreements that make everything into a commodity. I think about foreign ownership of the companies extracting our most precious raw materials and influencing governments to overlook the long term health and well being of the people and the land. Did you know that our government cannot enact laws that will effect the profits of any existing corporation without their approval. This includes laws that may protect your health.

My silence is also in the face of a culture that fears great change and does not want to give up any of the conveniences of modern western living. We'll never get anywhere if every new idea is the face of apocalypse. One side says that we will all die and civilization will perish if we don't make changes, while the other side tells us that the necessary changes will casue society to collapse and civilization to perish. Individuals soon learn that they can do all kinds of crazy things in life without catastrophe. We can go to any corner of the world and get away with it, we can live rich or poor, be happy or miserable, alone or with a group; we can do insane stunts, climb the tallest mountains. If we, as individuals can do anything, why can't we believe that we, as a community or a nation or a world civilization do anything.

I am silenced by the overwhelming popularity of television and the disdain for knowledge of history, language, the humanities and the fine arts; though I must admit that I don't have much use for the education systems in modern western civilizations. Why is it that communities, or food, or nature cannot maintain peoples attention in the same way reality television does? And why don't people value their heritage; the path that brought us to where we are?

I'm also silenced by politics in general. Since I'm not a politician, a lawyer or a business man, I cannot understand the issues and I do not belong in the halls of decision making. Why is it that we must have professional politicians running the country, representing the people? Wouldn't it be better to have people representing the people? How the game works now, is that we elect politicians to represent us. Once they get to a position of influence, they then hire consultants to look at the issues and report back. We could cut out the middle men, the politicians, and hire our own consultants and make decisions based on publicly available information.

My silence is also a result of apathy. My adversary is simply too big and powerful and I'm too exhausted from working all the time. My concerns seem so obvious and self explanatory that I don't know where to start. Pipelines will break, in 50 or a hundred or two hundred or two years, they will break and there will be big problems when they do. Things that are essential for the well being of human life should be protected with our lives: water, earth, air and fire. These things can't be "managed" with ten of 20 or 100 year plans, these things must be considered forever. These politicians who are supposed to be acting in our best interests have only short term interests in mind; it would be political suicide to start planning for the long term.

All over the world economies are collapsing or on the verge of collapse and the wisdom of the day seems to be that we can borrow our way through this rough patch. Borrowing is the very thing that caused this rough patch. Deficit financing they call it. It's been all the rage since the 80's and it's caused economic crises' all over the world. Mostly for emerging economies, but this practice is now catching up with more developed economies. Even the USA is barely managing their debt. Greece almost have a referendum and I can't believe they didn't stage a revolution when their referendum idea got axed. Why won't anyone stand up and be the experiment? What would really happen if the banks were allowed to collapse? I'm sure the world wouldn't end, just a couple peoples fortunes. The rest of us might, in the end taste a bit of freedom.

I'm tired of the obvious being ignored and solutions being demonized. I'm so tired I can hardly speak.

What is it that silences you?

The Boxer - The Buddha

2011-10-23T12:44:00.000-06:00

I am just a poor boy
Though my story's seldom told
I have squandered my resistance
For a pocket full of mumbles such are promises
All lies and jests
Still a man hears what he wants to hear
And disregards the rest

When I left my home and my family
I was no more than a boy
In the company of strangers
In the quiet of the railway station running scared
Laying low, seeking out the poorer quarters
Where the ragged people go
Looking for the places only they would know

Lie la lie ...

Asking only workman's wages
I come looking for a job
But I get no offers,
Just a come-on from the whores on Seventh Avenue
I do declare, there were times when I was so lonesome
I took some comfort there

Lie la lie ...

Then I'm laying out my winter clothes
And wishing I was gone
Going home
Where the New York City winters aren't bleeding me
Bleeding me, going home

In the clearing stands a boxer
And a fighter by his trade
And he carries the reminders
Of ev'ry glove that layed him down
Or cut him till he cried out
In his anger and his shame
"I am leaving, I am leaving"
But the fighter still remains

I was just a rich boy
My story often told
I had squandered my existence
For a pocket full of gold and such wealth
All opulence and ease
Full of teaching and tradition, knowing only my own family, And disregardin' all the rest

When I left my home and family
I was no more than a boy
In the company of strangers
In the quiet of the jungle running scared
Laying low, seeking out the quiet corners
Where thoughts did not dwell
Looking for the end to suffering that we all know

Truth to truth....

Asking no one for anything
I went looking for the truth
But I found no knowledge
Just some offerings from the scared people of the villages
I do declare, there were times when I was so
hungry
I took some food from them

Truth to truth.....

Then I'm sitting by a tree, my alms bowl has been discarded, and I'm wishing my self was gone
Going home
Where life's suffering no longer touches me in the silence of mind
Suffering, but going home

In the clearing stands the buddha
An asthetic by his trade
And the carries no reminders
Of the suffering that layed him down
Or cut him till he cried out
In his peacefullness and bliss
“I am leaving, I am leaving”
An now just the teachnigs do remain....

Photo prints for sale

2011-06-18T22:13:00.001-06:00

I have several photo prints for sale: The following pictures are available in various sizes: 8x12 for $20each, 12x18 for $30each , and 20x30 for $50each. I also have several 8x12 prints with double mat available for $40each.

Please contact me at holliday.michael@gmail.com if you are interested in acquiring a print of any of these photographs. Custom sizes are also available.

Hard of Hearing

2011-06-18T20:33:00.000-06:00

Many people are surprised to hear that I am hard of hearing. I wear two hearing aids and I can 't hear much without them. I received the hearing aids in 2003 as a result of job-site noise; or at least that's the noise source that allows WCB to accept the claim and pay for my hearing aids, service and batteries for the rest of my life. But yes, I am a young man, and yes my incomplete hearing is the cause of many difficulties in my life. Communication is important. People don't like to be ignored, and if they don't know about my hearing problems, not hearing is the same as ignoring. Even with hearing aids many difficulties arise. In loud places, I hear only the noise and not the conversation. In groups, when more than one person is speaking, I can't distinguish the conversation I'm a part of from the other one that's going on beside me. And almost any voice that goes through any sort of electronic processing becomes just a garble of sound: public lectures, televised sound, talk radio, music.

Very often I find myself guessing what people are saying and responding to that, which, as you can imagine, often leads to some interesting responses. Servers ask me how I'm doing and I give them my order, someone compliments my stone mala and I tell them I'm doing fine. Or very often someone will say something and I'll repeat it moments later thinking I'm the first to say it. It's madness really, like being completely detached from everything that is going on around me. Like living in a bubble. And when I've already conditioned myself to a separate reality (mentally, spiritually, and physically) from many of those around me, my hearing problem exacerbates the thickness of the bubble.

On the other hand, many blessing result from this hearing deficiency. I'm comfortable living next to busy roads, I can sleep almost anywhere without being woken by the noises in the night that awaken others. I have a built in excuse for not watching TV or not engaging with speakers who have nothing to say anyways. And when the guys at work have some smart ass comment, I'm completely unaffected by it, I often tell them to that if they want to tell me off they better say it loud enough for me to hear it, otherwise they might as well keep it to themselves.

During my most recent travels to India I managed to break both my hearing aids: I stepped on one and dropped the other one on one too many stone floors. This was not a big problem, although I was studying the Hindi language at the time. I was able to continue making progress with my grammar studies and even improved my vocabulary; it was only my pronunciation and understanding that suffered. For the most part, I wasn't expected to understand the language or the accent anyways, so avoiding conversation was easy. I was more worried about returning to Canada without my hearing aids since I'm expected to listen, hear, and understand what people are saying to me here. My boss, my girlfriend, my friends, shop clerks and service persons all expect hearing and understanding. But even with these people I'm fortunate to be offered a great deal of patience.

Being hard of hearing isn't much of a handicap, it's merely an exercise in patience for myself and those who come in contact with me. I enjoy my handicap in he same way I enjoy my other unique abilities. They all add up to make up my character, to give me fodder for creativity and joy.

Make change happen

2011-06-16T08:33:00.000-06:00

The solution to everything lies in your heart. You only need to heed your intuition and all the treasures of life will be yours.

This is the best advice you will ever get, following this advice is the answer to everything. But how do we sort out what is being said by our heart from what is being said by our ego, our fears, and our reason? They all speak with the same voice. How can we sort it all out? And this, of course, is the trick.

Luckly you are not the first person to be faced with this problem. People have been experimenting with different techniques for years and many of these techniques have been found to be effective. Some people take up meditation, others do yoga, some pray, some people dedicate themselves to their work or to their families or to the whole of humanity. Some techniques are slow and easy, others are abrupt and shocking. No one knows if a technique will work before they try it. We not only don't know what we want, we don't even know the path. We are stuck then with only one prospect: trial and error.

Whatever you think might work for you, might very well work for you. It doesn't matter what voice is telling you what, just listen to one of them that seems point in a possitive direction. But dedicate yourself to that direction. If this is a problem for you then you have to get a bit rough with yourself and put yourself in some situation when you must practice your chosen technique. If your spirit is ebbing low then perhaps you have to shock your spirits into rising. Like an alcoholic who must go to rehab, lock yourself up in an ashram or a monestary for some time.

If what you've been doing has lost it's luster then you have nothing to loose. Choose anything.

Back to work

2011-06-16T08:31:00.000-06:00

Back to Canada, back to modernity. Working in the dirt with pipe and shovel and screaming machines that never fail to make me think of some dinosaur that could turn from a domesticated pet to a ferocious killer in an instant. The swearing and light hearted crudeness of the banter in the ditch. The responsibility and duty associated with some many things that I could give a damn for: pipe grade, overseeing people who should know better, production, cost cutting, and braving the madness of Canadian weather. No time to sit, thinking thinking thinking, crunching numbers, bossing, yelling, laughing at bull-shit and jokes that make me groan in pain. But it keeps me busy and feeds my fire. It's like mental kindling; the mental fires get fed but every stick I throw on is quickly consumed and the dissatisfaction of worldly life creeps in.

Fate however is good to me; very good to me. Though I grumble, I am blessed many times over.

Three months in India (final month coming soon)

2011-06-16T08:27:00.001-06:00

Every year I get a little deeper into the country and come to understand the culture even more. This year I made huge strides in learning Hindi: reading, writing, grammar. My pronunciation still causes a great deal of confusion, but at least I can communicate with the locals a little bit beyond getting my necessities met.

Other than my requisite stay in Varanasi, this trip was all about Madhya Pradesh, the middle province where the Narmada river begins on the eastern border in the town of Amarkantak and gathers momentum as it heads west through the marble canyons near Jabalpur, before settling into a lazier pace as it goes through the Holy towns of Omkareshwar and Maheshwar. About 100km before it finds the Arabian Sea it enters the province of Gugarat.

From Varanasi I went straight south by bus to get to Amarkantak. There were a few small water falls nearby Varanasi, but as the bus climbed the mountains, natural beauty gave way to coal mining and power generation. In one particularly polluted town that tasted lie coal dust, I was told that there were ten coal power plants within 40km. My morning chai even had the undrinkable taste of coal. Several of the people I met here or on the buses near here were engineers enjoying the prosperous employment provided by all the smoldering black diamonds.

As the I continued south, the air began to clear and the people began to look healthier. Prosperity gave way to poverty. This is mostly tribal lands: jungle and farm. Huge, ranch-style mud houses with simple line work and dots painted on the outsides (tell-tale indications of tribal people); beautifully simple. I made my way thru Ambikapur, from the bus stand to the train station, surprising all the locals in this quiet city. I suspect that stopping for a night or two would have rewarded me richly, but Shiva Ratri was approaching quickly and I wanted to be in a suitable Shiva town (I was thinking I would get to Puri after a brief stop in Amarkantak). The driver of the shared auto who took me to the train station after I'd walked a few km refused my money and sped away singing what I think was a Bollywood love song.

Waiting for the train I encountered some rare racism: teasing and jokes that I could not understand but made me uncomfortable enough to move to the end of the platform. A couple boys who witnessed it cautiously approached me for conversation and quickly became close friends and guides for the next 14 hours. One boy was shy and from a low cast, and the other had just graduated from collage and was working as a pharmaceutical rep. Both were very cool. I got off the train one stop before they did and found myself a cozy place on the floor of the train station to sleep until morning and slept through until almost ten before catching one more bus to Amarkantak.

In Amarkantak I quickly learned the difference between asking for a "Sasta Hotel" (a cheap hotel) and a "sasta Kamra" (cheap room). Sasta Hotel is about Rs600/night ($15.00), and a sasta kamra is about Rs100/night ($2.50). The cheap room was a dung floor thoroughfare for rats with spiders in every corner and a thin mat on the floor for sleeping; perfect. The Phalhari Ashram was up the hill and had a beautiful view of the Ancient temples across the river (Sri Shankyacharyia, 1100AD) and the white spires of the new temples in the forground. All around me were huge Mango trees that were just starting to consider offering us (and the monkeys) fresh mangos.

The ashram in Amarkantak was nice and simple: a thin mat on a dirt floor, two meals a day and chai in the morning. The rooms all had rats passing through, but for Shivarthri someone apparently supplied them with poison and they began falling from the ceiling as if to beg for mercy. They were offered none. The foreign presence was small here, just myself; Mark, the Bhakti German fellow; and a hippy Alaskan guy with his daughter. Taj, the international gangster came later.

Taj had stories to tell, many stories about his upbringing in Kashmir, his immigration to Canada, his adventures around the world. He was in his early fifties and in the process of assessing his life. He was a doubter and a cynic when it came to religion and spirituality. He had no use for either and he enjoyed spouting his opinion in the ashram, to devotees and even to Babas. The Phalhari baba who ran the ashram wasn't much different so the two of them became quick friends. Baba was a great manager and had completed 12 years of intense tapas eating only fruit while practicing yoga and tantra. He certainly didn't recommend such a lifestyle, it was very hard on his body.

I stayed here for a few weeks listening to Taj's stories and practicing intense yoga and meditation in my room. Baba spoke no (or very little English) so there was no instruction and he led no practices. As an ashram, it was merely a place to stay.

For Shivarathri I was given access to a private Puja in the main temple that went on for over three hours. It was he most intense puja I've ever witnessed. I'm certain that they recited an entire Purana with the speed of an auctioneer. When I left, my mind was swimming; I was high from the intensity of it all and I'd felt as though only a few minutes had passed. I wondered if I'd been lulled into some kind of trance. It was beautiful.

Taj and I left together catching buses and trains to haphazardly make our way to Maheshwar.

(to be continued)

Kundalini Dance

2011-05-28T13:40:00.000-06:00

On with the dance! let joy be unconfined;

No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet

To chase the glowing hours with flying feet.

~George Gordon, Lord Byron, Childe Harold's Pilgrimage

Kundalini dance is a spontanious dance form involving focused breathing, movement, sound and energy. It's a wonderful practice that will release repressed emotion, cleanse and purify the body, and allow for a deeper spiritual awareness. You need not be an experiance dancer, or even good at dancing to take part. Anyone, regardless of body type, fitness level or flexibility can take part and will receive benefit from this dance form. In Kundalini dance there is no such thing as doing it wrong.

Beginning on June 12, Lizette, my lovely bride-to-be, will be facilitating an eight week (eight Sundays) Kundalini dance program open to anyone and everyone. The cost is "as you wish." She's hoping to receive enough in donations to pay for the space; her time and energy she offers free of charge. As this eight week program is a part of her practicum for becoming a certified dance facilitator, the only stipulation is that you come to all eight of the sessions.

This is a really wonderful opportunity for self knowledge through dance. I can't think of a more fun and lively spiritual practice. Dance is one of the oldest of spiritual practices: aboriginal societies of all continent, sufi mystics, the Bacchanal and Dionysian cults of ancient Greece, and the Hare Krishna's of today all use dance to bring them closer to the divine and for personal as well as community transformation.

If you would like to take part in this journey into your-Self through dance, please contact me or Lizette (liz.mercado@gmail.com) for complete details.

I would believe only in a God that knows how to dance.

~Friedrich Nietzsche

Socrates learned to dance when he was seventy because he felt that an essential part of himself had been neglected.

~Source Unknown

Dance first. Think later. It's the natural order.

~Samuel Beckett

Authentic Self Seeker

2011-02-20T02:02:00.000-07:00

Dedicated to Joseph the Swede!

The other day I met a man who said he was a monk. He told me his path was that of an authentic self seeker. He did not claim that he was authentic himself, but merely that he strove to maintain the authenticity of his path, and by this he hoped to one day live authentically himself.

I asked him what this meant to live authentically. He said that he didn't yet know, but his heart would tell him when his actions flowed from such a point. Maintaining the authenticity of the path he knew much about. But even this much authenticity was difficult for him to maintain. He easily got carried away by life and forgot to reflect on what he was doing. Everything would be going well and then one day he would wake up and realize that he had completely lost awareness, that days had gone by without him having given a moments thought to anything. Acting automatically, without awareness, he said, was the how people got into trouble.

He said that the path of an authentic self seeker was not at all laid out. There was nothing for him to do except learn about himself from each and every action. There were still times when he thought one direction held his path only to be told later by his heart that he was following the wrong path. He said that even he couldn't tell the difference between what his heart was saying and what his mind or ego were saying. It seemed to him that they all spoke in the same voice; it was only in content that they differed. He had a loose theory that he called useless, well almost useless: The heart calls for change, reason seeks stasis, and the ego tries to define his limits. He likened the heart, the reason, and the ego to the three worlds: heaven, earth and Hades respectively.

I asked him why he thought the heart always called for change and he said that since our hearts speak from the heart of nature itself, and the nature of nature is change, then change must be the calling of the heart. And reason, he added, seeks to understand everything, label it and put it into categories. So reason, he reasoned, must like stasis most of all since it cannot understand things that are always changing. And as for the ego, it was always being a pain in the ass; at times challenging him and at other times limiting him. But he appreciated what his ego did for him. If it wasn't for his ego he never would have gone down the path of self. His ego provided the class room and all the tools for his heart to learn. It was rarely pleasant, but the opportunity for growth offered by the ego was tremendous.

The physical world, for him, had become merely a conduit to his inner world. He said that he believed in the golden rule about doing unto others, but he did not know how he would have others do unto him. He learned early on that people did not want the same things, and he found out quickly that many of the things he would have others do unto him were no the sort of things that others would like done to them. Regardless of all this confusion about the golden rule, he maintained that the rule was sound, it was up to him to discover what it was he wanted that could be universally applicable.

.....To be continued.....

Letter to those who wander

2011-02-15T23:42:00.001-07:00

Dear Friends,

Our time together was brief, but in the space of moments we shared a comradery that is only possible between people whose paths are understood by each other. Within moments we became joined as brothers and sisters; they were beautiful moments as such moments always are. We spoke the loneliness of the road and the feeling of existing by the force of our own will alone.

As wanderers, all that is in front of us is a long road with many branches and no signs or guarantees. We carry no map and do not know where the road was going to take us. The regular maps that people use to take them through relationships and careers and life have failed us, so we have discarded them.

Wanting nothing more than to travel to interesting places and put ourselves into wholly unfamiliar situations, we've thrown ourselves into the world with the faith that somehow the world will look after us. We want only to meet new people and explore new perspectives. We are drawn by inspiration and consoled by faith. We are the dreamers and the chronically disappointed. We are the ones who seek... and seek... and seek. We are the Diogenes' wandering with our lamps in search of an honest man. We are the Socrates' with questions but no answers. We are the Hindu sages saying: "Not this, not this."

Through our endless wanderings without meaning, playing the roles of neither monk nor householder, we have lost our homes. We have pulled our own roots from the ground and now we must wander, we must seek, we must keep moving. Finding is not really an option anymore. We know that our minds cannot be restrained. We have followed many paths and practiced many techniques and we know that all are good, all have their place, but we again move on. So long as the questions remain and the possibilities never cease, we must continue on our way singing quietly to ourselves the refrain: "Not this, not that."

We have certainly considered this and that: becoming a householder or a monk. We feel the pain of not being able to commit in either direction. We have have shattered the bonds that restrain the householder, but we are helpless to the bonds of lust. We cannot shake our desire for sex and the emotional experience that accompanies it. So when personal love comes along we once again start to fret about the future and wonder if maybe there are not some way to overcome the purgatory of a wanderers life.

I have met many seekers who thought they had found something, and I feel great warmth in my heart when I hear such stories, but always there is a prelude of doubt and a refrain about the loss of possibility. I feel this doubt myself when I think I have possibly found something, but I forge ahead thinking that the struggle with these feeling will be good for me; that even if love is not forever, there is, none-the-less, a great lesson to be learned with each new love.

Commitment is a difficult thing for a seeker. We want to be prepared to look around any corner at any time; to explore any possibility that comes our way. In commitment we feel as though we are locked in one place, in one mode of behaviour and one way of thinking. How can we possibly make any plan when we don't know where we or our mind will be in the future? When change and the unpredictability of the future is all that we know, how can we expect anything from the future.

An endless stream of possibilities is always acting on ourselves personally and on the world we depend on. Without a moments notice any change can take place and we have accepted this as the natural order of things. This expectation of change is what rules us. We scoff at the words "forever" and "always".

But in way it is this very thing we are searching for. We lost souls who have freed ourselves to search for ourselves are looking for some permanence within ourselves. We know that this self can only be found in the stillness of our minds, but we are a restless lot in our search for treasures of the soul; for this treasure we cast aside even the elusive treasures of the heart. We are looking for the philosophers stone and all else is merely distraction.

We are a daring group of people whose zest for life is unmatched. We are not afraid of the unknown and we know that it is our own perceptions that bring form and function to the world around us. And most importantly, we do not allow the world around us to determine our thoughts and emotions. We feel what we want to feel, and most often that feeling is love, joy and union. But neither are we bound to such flowery thoughts and feeling; we accept it all and don't even let sadness get us down.

Our wandering is our penance for desiring permanence: a purposeless task that ensure only that we are exhausted by the end of the day. We have no place to be and nothing to do so we wander. On the road, alone, without sharing culture or language with anyone around forces us to go withing; to wander within ourselves. We know that in the end, every mans fate is the same and in knowing this we are free.

So my dear fellow travelers, mighty wanders of the soul, know too that you have inspired me with your every word and every silence, through your action and your stillness. Your pain, your joy, your hopes, your desires and your fears are all my own. I have been touched by your influence and I now share your fate. Thank you,

May peace pervade all else,
Most sincerely,
Mike Holliday

What's missing?

2011-02-13T21:04:00.000-07:00

What is it that causes so many people in their thirties to suddenly contract unhappiness. They look back on the whole of their life: their achievements, their relationships, their careers and their training and suddenly they decide that none of it is enough. Something vital is still missing. While they were building a life they somehow missed out on life, and at Some point in our thirties we decide that we must go looking for it.

This desire to go searching for that something more is often powerful enough for people to uproot their lives: careers that many only dream of get left behind, marriages come to an end, and many possessions get sold, given away or thrown in the trash-heaps they are for.

We usually don't know what it is that is missing or to where we must go or what we must do to find it, but suddenly we discover that we must begin listening to our intuition. Or perhaps all the years of repressing our intuition causes it to begin asserting itself through life changes.

YOU ARE THAT! NOT THIS NOT THAT!

Knowledge has bounds, intuition does not. We are much more than the sum of our experiences. We are like a vessel which contains all manifest possibility; infinite potential; a mass of energy conscious of being a mass of energy.

Who we think we are is not who we are. We are beyond our own comprehension.

If this is the case than what is this popular idea of true self? Authentic self? The real?

I hear many stories about lovely successful people who I always thought had it together suddenly breaking down and realizing that they do not at all have it together. Their happiness was a sham, their smiles and laughter masks to cover all that they did not know. Their days, organized for completeness were days of mental chaos, felling success only when triumphing over others and being left forlorn when they must cede success to someone else. We've heard it in the movies countless times: "My whole life is a sham."

But what is a person to do?

I've heard the same refrain over and over: "We can't all just go off to travel India for half the year like you do."

India has been my path, kindly find your own! I'm not saying that India is not also your path; it is the path of millions of western people (and over a billion Indians). But once here we all have our own paths. None of it would work if we all followed the same path, we'd get in each others way.

And this is much of the problem, we're all trying to conform to the same path and we're all getting in each other way. And all this getting in each others way is starting to cause tension and anger. And by the time we hit our thirties we're completely pissed off, frustrated, and exhausted by life; and now we are ready to listen to our intuition.

An old man once told me that disappointment was a better starting point for the journey within than dreams.

So here we sit in our thirties feeling completely disappointed by life and wanting more. This can't be it, can it?

A very close friend once confided to me that no matter how much she planned and prepared for the future, she could not feel secure; she always imagined the worst. Above every mutual fund, every dead-bolt, every alarm system and every insurance policy hung a black cloud of "what ifs?" that left her feeling as vulnerable to the future as though she'd done nothing. She knew that the fear was her own burden, but she didn't know how to drop it.

And then one day it happened! She left her car door unlocked and she came back to find many of her possessions had been stolen. She dropped her guard for a moment and paid the price. But she also realized that she could not be vigilant 24 hours a day; she could not guard against everything. Her fears just dropped away. She didn't even get angry over having her things stolen; instead she felt only the peace that comes with complete defeat.

City of Light: Part 6

2011-02-09T00:21:00.000-07:00

When the Destroyer started to notice everyone else was beginning to take up residence in the city of light, he sent a couple of his attendants to go there and assess the situation. The first two that he sent were a ridiculous pair known as "Spiked-Ears" and "Great-Death." These two fools were immediately charmed by the city and forgot their task entirely. "Big-Belly" soon followed, but he too succumbed to the city's charm.

The city of light was indeed a charming city. Just walking the streets was like freedom itself; and swimming in the river felt so liberating. People really felt that anything was possible in this city. Even the Destroyer was beginning to believe that he could one again feel welcome there; especially since so many of his friends were now living there. And since so many of his friends were there, he thought it might be a good time for his elephant faced son to go back for a visit. And just as the Destroyer suspected would happen, once little elephant face entered the city he didn't want to leave. But elephant face had great love for his father and didn't want to stay in his fathers City of Light unless his father was here with him. At the first opportunity that presented itself, Elephant-Face went to speak with the king.

The king had done a fine job of ruling the city over his life time. He was known to be just and generous with his subjects and his kingdom was flourishing as a result. But the king was getting on in years and had begun to feel indifferent to it all. When he spoke with Elephant-Face, he confided all of this and rhetorically asked what the real fruits of his lifetime of achievement might be. Elephant-Face sympathized with the kings mental discord and to his surprise, Elephant-Face told him that a man would come in 18 days to answer this question. Elelphant-Face could tell that the king dismissed this prophesy just as he dismissed all prophesy, but he also knew that he had opened a door and that if he acted quickly, he could prepar a way for his father, the Destroyer, to join him in the city.

Elephant-Face called on the Sustainer, who was happy at the opportunity to visit the City of Light, to carry out the next phase of his plan. And since the Sustainer knew that everyone who visited the city was charmed into staying, he brought with him his wife and even his pet bird right from the start. When the three of them arrived at the north boundary of the city where the two rivers meet, they all went for a swim. The place where they went swimming later became known as "Foot-Water."

He and his family disguised themselves by wearing the local style of clothes, which at this time was a maroon robe and a shaved head. They thought that the best way to really get the kings attention was to sow the seeds of discontent within the city, which they began to do immediately. All three of them were very eloquent speakers who could convince people of almost anything. They began telling people to be free. That what their elders said were lies, that the poor were only poor because they were being held down by the ruling classes, and that men and women were really equal -- neither had any right to tell the other what to do.

Their speeches worked and the established social order in the City of Light began to quickly break down. As the chaos in the city grew people search for order through old superstitions. Many of the wild ladies who took jobs as fortune tellers astrologers and palm readers began to do very brisk business. Peoples minds were opening and they began to see a whole new world of possibility.

On the 18th day, the Sustainer went to the king who was at his whits end over the sudden upheaval of his kingdom. The king, remembering Elephant-Faces prophesy, quickly had the new stranger (the Sustainer) admitted to his chamber. The king wasted no time in asking the Sustainer how he might uproot the process of action and reaction, and also about how he might find final peace in his heart.

The Sustainer, knowing that this was just the sort of problem that would interest the Destroyer, told the king to establish a home in the city for the Destroyer and his wife and send a formal invitation to the two of them. The king, desperate for a solution to the turmoil in the city, readily agreed and the Sustainer sent his bird to bring the message to the Destroyer.

In the mean time, the Sustainer settled down near a small pond that was fed by five streams.

City of Light: Part 5

2011-02-08T23:34:00.000-07:00

Finally, when the people could stand no more of the Destroyers moaning mopping, a group of 64 women were recruited to go down to the City of Light to see what the might do to encourage favorable circumstances for the Destroyers return. They were a wild bunch of ladies. All were married except one, but few of them found much time for their husbands unless their presence was required. When they arrived at the City of Light they all found homes in the comforting arms of nature: in hollowed out trees, or in thickets, or in a nice grassy meadow, or near one of the many ponds that were within the limits of the city. They They took simple jobs that would not take away from the employment of the existing residents; they didn't want to attract unfavorable attention, but they still wanted to be in a position to attract peoples attention. They went for the occult jobs like fortune-telling, magic, palmistry; or else they became entertainers, dancers, tight-rope walkers. Some others took menial jobs like street sweeping, flower garland making, and hairdressing.

Most of these women were god-awful to look at, and as they assimilated to their respective neighborhoods, they were give nick-names like "Elephant-Face," "Lolling-Tongue," and "Bloody-Eyes." Many people even believed that they really were magicians, sorceresses, or spirits of some kind. Someone even started a rumour that "Lady of Delight," one of the few beauties of the group, was a vampire; but most people joked that this rumour was started by some jealous wife in the City.

Regardless of all the nasty rumours that floated around about the City of Lights' newest residents, many of the oldest people of the town began to seek them out for advice and guidance. The people would light candles and burn incense for them at night, they even composed beautiful and sometimes terrifying songs in their honour. Regardless of this small following, or perhaps becasue it was sucha small following, they were unable to bring the peoples thinking any more in line with the paradoxical thinking of the Destroyer. They knew that too few people would appreciate his return.

But for them, the City of Light was now home. They had become a solid members of their communities and felt settled and happy where they were, even if they did only have a few friends in the neighborhood and were virtually unknown even at the other side of town. They sent word that they wished to stay even though they knew that they had little chance of succeeding in their mission.

The Sun, a fiery fellow whom everyone considered to be the pinnacle of manliness, and, to be quite frank, a complete chauvinist; laughed at the feebleness of the women. He bragged that he, one man, would be able to complete the task left incomplete by the sixty-four women. It wasn't their fault they were just women.

But when the Sun entered the city of light, he wasn't as fortunate as the women. He had difficulty finding a job at first and became a beggar. At one point he was so poor that he didn't even have any clothes. But then he got a lucky break and was able to start a business which quickly made him a rich man. It was at this point that he purchases 12 houses in the City of Light and began spending equal time at all of them depending on the time of year. He now found life in the City of Light to be so pleasing that he took a vow to never leave the limits of the city. He had by now also given up trying to change the thinking of the people and settled into a routine.

When the sun didn't return, the Creator began to worry in his absence. The Creator had always been like a father to the Sun and it was unlike the Sun to change his course without informing anyone. After some time, the Creator decided to go down to the city of light to see what fate his Sun had succumbed to (the creator thought of everything and everyone as his own). When he found his son in good health and good spirits, he decided to throw a huge banquet by the river. He invited everyone including the local king who slaughtered and cooked 10 horses on huge bon-fires while everyone went for a swim.

It was one of the most lavish parties anyone had ever seen. The king played his role as host perfectly; no one could find any fault, even in the slaughter of the horses. Miss River was so pleased that she's said to still sing the songs from this night when she passed by the festival grounds. And the Creator too had such fun and made so many friends that he too decided to take up residence in the city, and since he wanted to keep the night of festivities close to his heart, he had a small home built near the festival grounds.

The City of Light: Part 4

2011-02-05T23:20:00.001-07:00

So they settled down to a good life in the City of Light. The boy was sent off to be raised by some of the River Tramps sisters. Not that anyone doubted Mrs Mountains ability as a mother, but she was famous for her temper which would rise up with such ferocity that her tongue would loll out of her mouth from which was was being emitted the most awful bloody shrieks and curses. When she witnessed the worst of injustices or thought, perhaps, that someones behavior needed correcting, she was known to gather up all the weapons she could get her hands on, for which purpose people swore she grew extra arms and hands to wield all that many more weapons, and along with her mighty voice and some wild cat like a loin or tiger in toe, she would do what ever she felt was necessary to correct the injustice or delinquent. She was well known to be unassailable; not even the Destroyer would cross her path in a cross way and this, they say, is why he sent the bratty step son to be raised elsewhere.

But I wouldn't want to leave you with the impression that Mrs Mountain was a complete bitch, for even when she was at the height of her fury people fully believed she was acting out of kind of motherly love. She was known by almost everyone in the City of Light respectfully as Ma, or Mother. Her acts of charity, compassion, guidance and love are the traits that imprinted themselves in the hearts and minds of the people of the City of Light.

And because of this strong motherly instinct, she longed to have a child of her own. She was still unable to have the great Destroyers child and since she feared his disapproval, she waited until he was on vacation in the mountains to see the doctor about artificial insemination.

A combination of bad weather and notoriously poor roads cased the Destroyer to be away for several years. When he returned to find some youth lurking around the entrances of his home, he beat the poor boy to within inches of his life. I'm sure you can imagine the drama that took place over the dying boys body when Mrs Mountain emerged to see what all the noise was about. The destroyer immediately rushed out to get a doctor (the finest in the land) and most people credit the Destroyer with saving the poor boys life. Some even said that the boy had died and the Destroyer brought him back to life, so in this way it was as though the boy was born into thte world by both his parents. The Destroyer certainly acted much more kindly to this boy who stayed with with his parents all his life.

The boy, who came to be known as Elephant Face on account of the deformities the occurred on account of the Destroyers beating and the many surgeries that followed, liked to hang around the entrance-ways: the road into, and out of the City of Light; the gate to the palace, even the doorways to peoples homes. He would open the door for people, help old ladies cross the road (even though there was very little traffic at this time), and just help people to overcome whatever obstacles they had in life. And regardless of his deformities the surgeons maintained a sense of symmetry in his face and many of the ladies still thought he was quite attractive. Many artists, attracted by the boys unique features and keen mind insisted on painting his portrait or creating small statues which superstitious people began to place near entrance ways for luck.

The Destroyer certainly loved the boy. He even began spending much more time in the City of Light, although he still spent most of his time in that horrible place where they burned the bodies. But now he spoke with people more often; at least with the few brave souls willing to spend their days sitting in the ashes of the dead with him. He told them stories about the old days before time-space and about how it all came to be. He had a way of really making people see it all for themselves. Certainly quite a number of these people became crazy, and some people didn't approve of these tales he was telling, but some people really seemed to understand and see things the way he described them.

The Destroyer enjoyed these talks. And although he told everyone it was because he liked to see people go mad, everyone knew that it was really because of those few who understood him. He and his stories were really quite an enigma so it was especially pleasing for him to be understood. It was really lovely to watch these exchanges between the Destroyer and his devoted listeners. It often seemed as though the two became one and few could see any difference between the Destroyer and the devotee.

But after some time fewer and fewer people came to visit and then such a long time went by without anyone coming to visit that the destroyer started walking the streets and stopping by the tea shops in search of a sympathetic ear. Mostly they just told him that his stories didn't matter any more and treated him in that all too kindly of a way that's usually reserved for the old men who shit themselves. In short it can be said that no one wanted to put up with his shit anymore. He put up with abuse and indignity for a while, and then he started spending all his time alone at the place where they used to burn the bodies (for they had even stopped doing this), and then one day he just got up, called to Mrs Mountain and the boy, and the three of them left. Town council and many of the charities had been ignoring Mrs Mountains offers to lend a hand as well, so she too was ready to quit the city. They went back to the mountains where she and the boy could stay with her parents and the Destroyer could go back to the mountain top and sit.

But this could not last for too long either. The Destroyer took took being separated from his city like a love-sick teenager. Oh how he pined for his city. He told Mrs Mountain that this longing was on account of all the tireless work she had done to beautify the city and enrich peoples hearts there, but she suspected that the River Tramp might be the reason for his broken heart and she was happy to be home with her family. Besides the Destroyer always seemed to be closer to her own heart when he was in his place on the mountain top.

Regardless of Mrs Mountains view of the matter, everyone thought that the best thing for everyone would be for the Destroyer to go back to the City of Light. The Destroyer, in his obstinacy, refused to go back until, as he put it, "the fools of the city woke up to a deeper reality."

The City of Light: Part 3

2011-02-04T02:31:00.002-07:00

No one knew how it happened. It almost seemed like it was always there. No one thought to blame the creator for the mess since he was still ding things on the sly. By the time anyone noticed anything, the Sustainer was usually looking after it, and he almost never started anything because he knew it would just mean more work for him. Besides, everyone liked the Sustainer and never gave him any grief. They liked that he never pulled any surprises and they knew exactly what to expect from him.

There certainly would have been hell to pay if anyone from before time now found themselves subject to its ravages, but this wasn't the case so no one really cared. Besides it was really neat that so many thing that had only been possibilities before were now becoming reality. And there were so many realities that no one could keep up, and sometimes people still got confused about the difference between a reality and a possibility. Some said you could tell the difference because reality shone much more radiantly than possibility; actual existence seemed to make everything more beautiful. None the less the possibilities for time and space seemed endless and that was in itself a thing of beauty.

Possibility itself now seemed to change its nature. Whereas before when there was just possibility, anything might be possible, but now possibility found itself confined by time-space* (see technical note below). The possibilities of any given moment were entirely dependent on the situation of time and space during the moment immediately preceding the moment of possibilities. The curious thing was that although this seemed to limit the possibilities, the possibilities remained endless none-the-less.

One particularly strange possibility became a reality. The City of Light, which had been around since even before timelessness, found itself a small plot of land on the earth. People said that it was on the earth, but not of the earth. It was here that the Destroyer decided to settle down with his new wife. They both loved their new home. The Destroyer still, however, preferred to be left alone so he took up residence at the place where all the people effected by time went to burn their dead bodies. It was a despicable place of fire and morning and only partially charred flesh that the dogs would over fight over. No one visited him much, but he was staying just a little to close to the River tramps abode for Miss Mountain's comfort. To keep her own mind off this possibility of infidelity that loomed over her marriage and, hopefully, to keep the Destroyer in check, she busied herself to such a degree around the city that it seemed as though she was everywhere at once. After some time, people started to believe that she had become the city herself.

And what a strange city it was. Streams ran in every direction with water so pure and fresh that people began to believe it was enchanted (although it wasn't yet as enchanted as it would soon become).

[Technical note: To those who were here before time, time and space appeared at the same time so they often consider them to be one thing; like two heads of the same creature. It was only to those who came after time that the two seem to be different. And even today this distinction will cause to people to raise their voice. For the remainder of the story the author will attempt to appease those who came before by referring to time-space rather than time & space.]

Coming soon. Part 4. The City of Light

The City of Light: Part 2

2011-02-04T00:30:00.002-07:00

Fortunately one nut-case showed up and seemed perfect for the job. She came from a good family, had great patience and even called herself Mountain. After she signed up for the project it was like everything happened all at once. The Destroyer opened his eyes and the new girl didn't smile at his at first. She wanted to catch his sense of wonder and didn't want him to start thinking that she was there to take him away from his peaceful solitary existence. Her hectic worked and soon he began to watch her for some clue and he was always wondering about her: who she was, where she came from. She didn't let on that she even noticed any of this, but of course she could sense his growing interest. And then one day he came right out and asked her what she was doing there. She said that she liked the peace and quiet of the mountain top, and with him there she could feel safe in the wilderness, but with him keeping quietly to himself and not moving she could also feel the peace of being alone. In such ways the home of the Destroyer was able to offer her perfect freedom.

This answer pleased the Destroyer and he allowed her to stick around. He also went back to his stony silence for a while, but as soon as she began to sense him watching her, she knew her plan was working and she continued on as if he wasn't there. She thought it would be better to let him wonder; to recreate her in his imagination and thus eliminate any slight imperfections she might have. The next thing any one knew, they were married. The great bachelor of possibility became the husband of the most delicately feminine woman anyone could ever imagine. Together they would make possibilities become reality.

They honey mooned in infinity and planned their new life together. Miss Mountain, as she became known, had insisted on moving off the mountain top and finding someplace more civilized to raise their family. She certainly wasn't going to allow her children to be raised by the the cliff hopping goats, and something still had to be done about the power monger who was making everyone's life difficult. If they didn't have a son everyone was going to leave and then even the timeless world would be void, and no one wanted that.

The problem was that Miss Mountain was just a simple village girl from the hills and the Destroyer was much much more than she could handle. The sex was great, but the destroyer had to be milked for many many hours before he could release his seed. Finally Miss Mountain had to tell the destroyer about the need for him to have a son to rid everyone of nuisance addition to the timeless realm. The destroyer was a little annoyed by the desete, but his love for his wife and her sweetly pleading voice made him forget his annoyance and he at once set to the task of ejecting a seed so he could assuage his wife's concerns.

Some say he had an affair with the beautiful woman everyone knew as the river, and others say he merely brought her his seed. Miss Mountain herself was never sure of what went on here and she kept a close eye on Mrs River after that. Mrs River indeed had a boy and he quickly grew powerful enough to fulfill his destiny and bring peace to the timeless realm.

But now everything had changed. Ever since the Destroyers honey moon strange things had begun to happen, the most notable of which was the beginning of time and the space which came with it.

Coming soon. Part 3. The Beginning

The City of Light: Part 1

2011-02-02T23:17:00.003-07:00

Before the beginning, and before the days of time and existence, when there was only possibilities which had not been realized, one man sat at the highest point of possibility and looked out over it all. He sat in perfect peace.

Some say he was born before time and will live long after time has come to an end. Many don't believe that he lived at all, but even these people now know him as the Destroyer. They say he was given this name because he did not arrive at his peace peacefully, and he was certainly a good one for settling matters once and for all.

But his peaceful state was soon to be broken by a plot concocted by the man who became known as the Creator; who was always resentful of the destroyer. In all fairness, the creator set things in motion before he really knew what was happening, and then things just started taking on a life of their own. And this is even before time began!

What happened was that the creator created some guy and didn't tell the Sustainer. Since everyone generally saw all the possibilities, they assumed this guy was just another possibility and before they knew it he had to much power and absolutely no manners, and quite frankly, he was getting on everyone's nerves.

They knew that the destroyer could probably do something about it, but he was on the mountaintop doing.... no one really knew what he was doing. Some said he was just sitting there barely breathing, other swore that he wasn't breathing at all. Some said just sitting by him brought peace, others said that going near him was frightening and that terrifying dreams persist. In any case, everyone knew that he didn't give a hoot about any of the others.

It was the creator who started the rumour that a woman could rouse him from his stupor, but then people didn't think that would be enough because then he would be busy with his honeymoon and then busy with the duties of a householder, and with all of that going on people doubted he'd still be the same destroyer they know in the old days, so then they decided that it would be better if the Destroyers son took care of this guy. And of course the Destroyer didn't have a son, to say nothing of the fact that no one could imagine that any woman in her right mind would want to freeze her butt off on a mountain top whooing some guy who was unlikely to even acknowledge her.

Honesty of Self

2011-01-20T00:32:00.000-07:00

Life, love and art have one trait in common for their success: we must be honest with ourselves, with others, and in our actions. But what is honest?

A week ago I would have said that honesty can only be found when someone sincerely seeks themselves. This is not because they find any particular truth; the seeking itself is the truth. Religions and spiritual disciplines and even thoughtful atheists can agree that looking within and finding your true nature (whatever that might be) is the most advantageous course of action anyone concerned with personal happiness, healthy relationships, or mental health can take. And are these not the true treasures of human life, of human consciousness.

But now I've come to wonder how much honesty there really is in such a pursuit. One mans way is not every mans way, but each of us do have our own particular way.

I've been following a story in the local paper about a young girl who was kidnapped from her family by a local magistrate. He and his men raped and beat her multiple times. When she tried to flee she was caught, charged with theft, and thrown in prison. The press has been all over this story. Yesterday, in her village, she climbed on the roof of a car to address the people of the village and the hundreds of police officers who have been dispatched to the area to provide protection for her. She said that she wished to find a gun in order to track her captors down and kill them. She is being applauded as a strong modern thinking woman. An unlikely new leader of the woman's movement in India. To hell with Ghandi, let's band together and strike fear into the heart of the racist abusive men who have been terrorizing the poorest most isolated girls of this land. I applaud her and would support a covert female strike force to take care of such tyrants who abuse both their power and the powerlessness of their victims.

But what does this have to do with looking within? Nothing. Some seek gold, some seek power, others seek revenge, but only a few it seems, seek themselves. All these roads have a certain honesty to them. If life has made you angry and hard, or sad and delicate, or kind and introspective; being honest merely means that you are aware of your anger, your sadness, your kindness.

But again, many people don't have such awareness. They mistake anger for joy, happiness for pain. Why cannot these people too come at life being fully honest, however confused they might be.

I swore a lot more when first begun penning this post. We seem to mistake shock value for honesty. We read the novels of William Boroughs and follow the lives of self destructive musicians and we say that this is honesty, this is deep personal expression. These lives and the art that came from these lives touch us with their pain, but is there really any more honesty in this than there is in the twistings of agony, desperation and shyness of a thirteen year old standing along the wall at a school dance. We can laugh at this, we have been there, but it's serious business to the thirteen year old whose heart aches with love. Most of us have not gone down the road of heroin or prostitution, the vices of the damned, and these lives are disconnected from our own. We can feel the heart break, but we cannot laugh. We would rather cry.

And the intellectuals and priests and high minded spiritual aspirants look at the lives of these damned and try to save them or ignore them and most certainly discount their message and way of life. But even the Buddha had to witness the four passing sights of sickness, old age, death, and finally a possible path of salvation before he himself went in search of salvation. In Herman Hesse's classic, Siddhartha had to send some time in town learning about greed and anger and love and lust before he to could hear the voice of the river.

So who is to say what is honesty, what is the right path what is not? It seems very reasonable to me that my path is the right one. If you're path does not seem to be the right one, perhaps you are one the wrong path, or perhaps not. Just be honest with yourself.

3 Steps to Lasting Happiness

2010-12-11T00:09:00.000-07:00

Someone once told me that there was only one way to lasting happiness: relax the mind, know the mind, and throw out the junk. Everything other method is just a diversion; just another trinket for the mind to marvel at before it once again becomes bored and agitated.

Three steps to happiness. Nothing too difficult here. With a bit of practice, you'll be on your way.

For many people, relaxing the mind does not come easily, even though it's the most natural thing in the world.

Find a spot where you won't be disturbed. Make yourself comfortable, close your eyes and watch the thoughts as they pass through your consciousness. Don't trouble yourself with any of them. Don't try to follow any of them to conclusion. Don't even try to make sense of any of them. Just watch them go by.

You don't have to be anywhere special to relax. The hectic long weekends at the lake is often the worst way to go about relaxing. But when you do get set up and pull your lawn chair up to the lake to watch the sunset and finally relax and sit silently for a few minutes, remain aware of you're thought, don't tune out and silence your mind. Let thinking happen, but don't judge your thoughts. Know that your thoughts are just thoughts. You need not allow your emotions to get carried away by mere thoughts. Just observe!

This simple practice of observing your thought will gradually ease any tension these thoughts cause. Since thoughts generally dwell on the past or the future you will come to find that as the observer, you're fully in the present moment. Once you start getting the hang of just observing your thoughts, you will find that fewer and fewer of them surface. You will also begin to find that you no longer need to find a quiet corner to practice this awareness; you will begin to maintain this awareness throughout the day.

When you become aware throughout the day that your thoughts are just thoughts, you will feel less tension, and the flower of lasting happiness will begin to blossom.

Peace and Love

Ego

2010-11-06T20:29:00.004-06:00

The masters of the mind always talk about ego. We've heard from Freud and Jung about the motivating factor of the ego. "Egotistical" people are often publicly despised and secretly loved; but we forget that even the meek are driven to their meekness by their ego.

When I sit and wonder about why I make one choice over another? Where my thoughts come from? Where do the choices come from? I become convinced that there is a way to gain greater control over the choice making process. But this now suggests a split in myself: one self making choices and another presenting the choices, and perhaps even another overseeing the whole process with bemusement.

I like to think that the bemused self is my true self even when I'm pissed off and swearing, because it's the only one that is always there, always consistent. When I'm down in the dumps, feeling like life's kicked dog; the bemused self is always there to thank me for the fine entertainment; such foolishness for the seriousness over the presentation. Going about thinking I'm this or that, while my bemused self laughs some more knowing that I can be anything and do anything, it all happens in a fleeting moment; manifest change; the land of my ego.

But the bemused self does not change, it seems to just sit above it all watching. This is the experience of self that meditation seeks, this is the experience of self that rises above the ego.