Dear friends and family,
I Am the Star That You Are too |
Greetings from America! I spent the last two nights under the stars--cozy in my borrowed down bag--searching the Northern California mountain sky, finding old celestial friends, contemplating the brilliance of the navigators who knew all their names, wishing I did, awed by the wonder of the infinite expanse before me--of all that is beyond the beyond of my finite mind . . . lying on my back, happy to be a speck of dust magnetized to a tiny ball in space . . . a gem upon a gem in the cosmos of sparkling diamonds, I am. You are.
Harbin Hot Springs - hubs behind the folage |
I spent these last two days at Harbin Hot Springs, which is three hours north of San Francisco. It’s a clothing optional spa, which means a lot of naked people hanging around, me being one of them. It’s all quite low key and natural . . . a nonchalant mingling, meandering of lovely people, quietly reposed. Both mornings I got up at five a.m. and spent an hour, pretty much alone, in the mineral hot springs. It was quite magical, beginning the day naked to the world, with no pretext, no agenda, no expectations, sitting in scalding hot water, then moving to the icy cold pool. Yang and Yin. The first time from the extreme hot to the icy cold is almost unbearable, but by the third session I lounged in the chill, my breathing expanding, with closed eyes contemplating the vision of the endo before me. By six a.m. I was no longer a sixty-five year old man--I was young, vibrantly alive, an Eternal Being, ready to start over, rounding a new corner on the Path to Paradise.
Breathing in both heaven and earth.
In this moment,
this precious moment. . .
he finds . . .
peace.
Napa Valley wine country |
I’m a novelist, as you know--I make up stories. It’s fiction, they say. I wonder what isn’t. After 6 a.m. as I walked down the trail from the pools I contemplated what story I was going to make up today--who am I going to be? A blank canvas, ahh, I am that. What will the story of David Dakan Allison be today, my story about others, about the world . . . what will I make up as true? Will I continue on with the same old same old; the story of my problems, others' problems, my drama, their drama, my aches and pains . . . or will I be this magnificent Eternal Being breathing in a new life, standing naked in front of my blank canvas of infinite possibilities, welcoming the change?
His vision bright and clear,
The butterfly smiles
as he rises in the morning sky.
One wing drops, then another.
The current catches him.
He floats in free flight . . .
gliding effortlessly across a field,
weaving a stitch in the tapestry
of love.
All these paths to choose from . . . |
Last night, staring into the endless sky of twinkling diamonds, I prayed that the gem that I am *sparkles* . . . that the gem that you are *sparkles* -- that I am, that you are, doing whatever it is we’ve come to earth to do. I pray that I take my talents, my love, my joy, my disabilities, my pain, whatever it is, the positive and the negative, my new day story, and use it as a gift to benefit myself and others. I pray that you and I flourish in being exactly who we are . . . and that our unique story is an inspiration to all we meet.
JB picked me up at the San Francisco airport on Saturday, and I spent a night, a day and another night, mostly sleeping off jet lag, in the Napa home of Carl and Suzanne, wonderful people, sharing love and hospitality. A blessing, a butterfly weave.
I’m readjusting to America, another dip in the glide of this butterfly. Whole Foods was like a candy store--I dropped my former judgments--the selection of comfort foods is incredible: one thing I do miss. Another change of scenery--the continuation of my Ki Earth Journey, and I do like saying that I live in Chiang Mai, Thailand.
Market street scene Chiang Mai |
When I left Kauai exactly two years ago I thought I would find my home and family somewhere in the U.S. I wanted to live in a small community of like-minded people, with my own separate (already built) living quarters, and a place to grow a garden. I almost had it all in Kauai, with my family there, except for the ‘already built living quarters’ part. After sixteen months of traveling the U.S. I decided to concentrate on finding a home within three hundred miles of my sons', no farther. I now laugh that my home ended up being something like 7,500 miles away. Now I have my home and the like-minded community and a brand new house—just not where I expected. I decided to not join a gym, but to make the yard around my house my gym, digging and moving wheelbarrows of dirt, building paths and growing a community garden. My $300 a month rent allows for the extra money freedom to buy cement statues of Buddha and Quan Yin, where the landscape calls for them, at prices that would be ridiculous to duplicate in the U.S. The yard and garden is my new pallet, my new work of art. Another tapestry to weave.
My future garden behind my home in Gong Kaew, CM |
So, yesterday I left the comfy cozy wonderful oasis paradise called Harbin Hot Springs. For $30 a day I got to soak and dream and just be there, under the sunny June sky and the rich forever Milky Way. I made one new friend, Danielle, and that was enough. For just a moment we could say “Come, if you wish, and fly with me in the sky of our friendship recognized and renewed . . . so I can I serve you with my open heart and butterfly smile.”
Open heart butterfly smile |
I arrived in Seattle last night--to visit my sons--to rummage through my “stuff” and wonder again why I hold on to it. I haven’t driven a car in eight months. Do I even want to drive my Volvo? I will, probably tomorrow, though I have no desire. After driving 27,000 miles around the U.S. last year I graduated. And now a life unexpected has changed all perspectives; the need to rush . . . the drive . . . the striving to get there, to prove this or that, to accomplish--all that is nearly gone. I realize in the here and now how simple I've become. I have a gift I wish to share--my story of the Path to Paradise (Shambala). I keep thinking the writing is done, but the process gives me joy, though I know one day, maybe soon, I'll let it go . . . so it will give you joy in the reading. That would make me happy—sharing the fiction that weaves with the "reality" of the story I make up every day, again today in this sharing. My gift of love to you.
As always it would be great to hear from you.
With blessings, love and kisses,
David Dakan Allison
ps. Check out Biolumina - the world's best spiralina, at my site:
(order the IP package - should last you a year)
|
pssss: You can share my blogs with your friends:
http://www.kiearth-dakan.blogspot.com
(cut and paste this link)
No comments:
Post a Comment