Man's Best Friend

My Worst Habit

My worst habit is I get so tired of winter, I become a torture to those I'm with.

If you're not here, nothing grows. I lack clarity. My words, tangle and knot up.

How to cure bad water? Send it back to the river.

How to cure bad habits? Send me back to you.

When water gets caught in habitual whirlpools, dig a way out through the bottom, to the ocean. There is a secret medicine, given only to those who hurt so hard, they can't hope.

The hopers would feel slighted if they knew.

Look as long as you can at the friend you love, no matter whether that friend is moving away from you, or coming back to you.

Rumi - for jeb

Underwater Mirage

This whole existence is a mirage. I'm a mirage: something illusory and unattainable. My past flashes before me like an invisible movie, starring someone cast as me, but not me. I see my life from the seat of the watcher. An illusion.

You are a mirror. Where do we end?

Infinity is nothing we can see, taste, smell, or hear. Though we can feel - the never-ending loop, propelled forever forth by its own ego energies. Samara. I'm stuck, you're stuck. We're hampered by the human condition; held in this underworld by our own blind business. Nothing cures the human condition but death; nothing cures death but birth.

Balance. We can see forever through each other.

Underwater, holding your breath, waiting for the five seconds before death; to feel the mirage. That's where the magic happens. Death of a body is finite; the soul, infinite. That loop again. Death happens when life occurs. It's the alchemy of existence.

I'm a mirror. Where do we end?

What do you see? I see you - wanting to get wrapped up in my Samara - to walk this infinite loop, reflecting each other along the way. Yet the mirage is illusory, only to be felt, as you pass through it. Pass through me. Feel the presence of something much more, something unattainable. Through me, feel the heat of the illusion.

Clouds over Taos

Encroaching upon the last remnants of this tumultuous year, we rethink what we think. Mercury is in Retrograde on this New Moon eve. Things are surfacing and resurfacing, rolling in and out like waves upon the beach, bringing in all the sea has to offer. It's a time of re-action and rebirth; we can no longer stand by and just watch. Now is the time to participate, to stand up and open your heart to another, to reach out a hand to a stranger, to tip your hat to an artist. Revel in self-care, nurture your loved ones, embrace each day as if it were the last. These words never rang truer for me than right now. As we embark on the new journey that 2017 has in store, I urge you to stop and smell the roses while you can. Renew your faith, your vows, reset your intentions. Take chances and put yourself out there while you still can - while you are still free to do so. Change being the only constant, there is no time like the present and no present like time. Take that gift while it is being given and make the most of it, for it is a precious commodity. Cut your hair, sell everything to travel the world, ski off the highest peak... whatever you do, check an item off your Bucket List. Now. Be here Now.

Forest for the Trees

The winter storm blows across the Mesa, rattling the sage. There is no end to her night, no beginning to her day. Time just ushers her along. Silent, alone. She's able to see best at night. The dark elicits from her a primordial longing to sniff for bones, reconnect with her Wild Woman, to seek La Luna, the Wolf Woman. She rests deep in the soul during the day, and comes out to play at night, when the coyotes ride the wind like ravens.

She longs for her tribe. Long since gone, she sniffs their bones. Reconnecting with the essence of the marrow, she can feel the past rising up to be released freely. It's only through this sniffing in the night that La Luna reaches a place where the cycle stops and she's born again. She sees anew. The forest beckons, calls her into its for-evergreen clutches. She knows the risk, but has to go anyway - just to see. She wonders what's beyond that dense facade.

Dreams come alive, breaths are drawn, lives are fully lived. The forest breathes its sigh of relief. It is a time of celebration, for La Luna has been reunited with her tribe deep in the forest of Unknowns. She finds her garden still being tended, lush and ripe for the taking. She has arrived.

Her journey reached the depths of the soul, the limits of her being, the edges of her periphery - and back again. She came back. There is no tomorrow, for the primordial power lies deep within her death, her rebirth, now.

Tri-X

(Homage to my Mother)

who am i?

You are infinite. You are of me. We are one.

where am i?

Where You go, there I am.

what am I?

You are Me. I am You.

Something epic to be reckoned with, like the great Odyssey itself, is Our journey together.

Your strength makes this Being livable. Like a mountain stream in spring, Your infinite energy rushed through Me, shedding the layers of time, peeling back faces to reveal true identities: You are Me and I am You.

There is no end to Us. Separated not by space nor time, We are forever connected in ways that no two others can be. The infinite loop cannot be ignored: We are a force to be reckoned with.

You and I.