Magic!

Miracles and magic have permeated the last few months with such vigour that I find myself happily surrendering to life! Beauty and ease have begun to fill my days, and new opportunities are taking root while the tender green shoots of spring are still blanketed with snow.

My heart has been healing and filling with a great new fire. Mexico was more than I bargained for, and just what I needed. What I have allowed myself to let go of, is now falling into my lap.

My trip to the mountains in Mexico, to the 7:7:7:7 gathering with Chabela, has altered my path. What was revealed to me there has opened new doors, spiralling into destiny. We fell in love. We surrendered deeply into love, letting go of what held us back, and releasing into magic.

The synchronicities are noticed, acknowledged, and appreciated. Chabela is the same age as my last partner. She left Canada to go travelling, met a man, fell in love, got pregnant and had her first child at 21, like my last partner. She has three kids who are the same ages as my last partner's. She drives a Toyota 4x4 like my last partner's. The list goes on, with an uncanny echoing of the previous year of my life.

To top it off, at the gathering in Mexico, they were both there. An experience that was not easy, but very useful. An acceleration of healing has happened. A cleansing and a clarity have been gifted to me. There was life and death. Literally. Four nights were spent in funeral ceremony for an Ojibwe elder who passed away after breakfast on the fourth day. I will never know if he is aware of how much he helped me.

A few days ago, on the new moon, I danced, then made a fire with a friend, to let go of the last of the things I was holding onto. It was a way for me to honour the many gifts I received from Bernice. And to let go of the past, to honour what I am creating with Chabela.

Suddenly, wood has been thrown onto the fire of a dream I had been losing touch with. My faith in following my heart is being restored. As is the faith in knowing all the details will be filled in, as the passion is kept alive. Chabela loves the idea of travelling and using art to teach compassion. She wants to live in community. Already she is invovled with a number of social and environmenatl projects on Stone Island. Her spiritual connection to native Huichol medicine people and to Buddhhist teachers takes her on many journeys in Mexico and the States. She is a love sponge! People flock to her to soak up the beauty that pours out of her. Her late-husband would say, 'Everywhere she goes she has this big tail!'

I have a plane ticket back to Mexico. In five weeks I will be back on Stone Island. The mystery continues to unfold as the magical map of destiny is revealed, day by day, moment by moment. The gift of this life nourishes me, as I continue to unwrap the present, and receive the blessings of love.

Midnight Moonlit Fisherman

Last night, at midnight, Che took me out with him on his boat, to check his nets, and bring in the few fish that were there. Che is a beautiful man, a fisherman who lives a life of voluntary simplicity. He is the only fisherman on the island who doesn`t use a motor. He has two hand-made oars and a little dingy that he uses to drop his nets or troll his lines. He lives by the moon, that pulls the ocean and stirs her directions. And when the sun comes up, he`ll take his fish to market, then come home to bed.

Che has a hut right beside the beach where he leaves his boat. It is a simple house that Chabela helped him to build from glass bottles and cob, with palm fronds to make the palapa roof. He uses candles to light it, a hammock to sleep in, and an earth oven to cook with. He is proud of his small, rustic home by sea.

Of course, he also has a house in the village where his wife and two daughters stay, where they have electricity, and television, and the usual conviences of a typical home. But when he wants to be with the sound of the waves and the smell of the ocean, this small house is his paradise.

Che loves to appreciate life. He loves nature. He loves beauty. He loves good food. Here on the island, he can enjoy a simple and easy life that few people would appreciate. For him, this is enough.

He pulled in sardines, mackerel, crabs, barracuda, and some fish that I didn`t know. We tossed back a couple of flying fish, a long pointy fish with a spear for a mouth, and a sting ray! There aren`t as many fish as there used to be. A few kilos a day is what he gets by on now. But with no fuel expenses or motor repairs, he has nothing to pay to keep his little operation going.

To live like this is a choice. He could buy a motor. He could go to work on one of the big fishing boats. But what Che understands is that the quality of life he seeks comes from his daily interactions with the world, not from having money, or things. Just like the old man who rides a horse and carriage through the village, singing old Mexican songs, and telling tourists about this little place. Life is simple. To appreciate this simplicity is a gift.

Meeting Che has been a gift. I am so grateful for this big man who lives a simple life. I am grateful for how welcoming and kind he has been to me. I am grateful for his spark of life and the twinkle in his eye. I am grateful for our moonlit boatride.

Big Hearted Woman

I’ve been in Mexico for four days. Already I have four new fillings, five old fillings replaced, and a mold made for my new gold crown that will be attached on Monday, when I will also get the remaining four of my old fillings replaced. All this for what it would cost for two fillings back home! How is it possible?

Not everything is so cheap in Mexico, but dentistry, is definitely worth the trip.

It’s been a lot of fun hanging with Chabela and her kids. Vincent and I went to go kick the soccer ball around the other day. There were some older kids practicing their breakdancing moves on the court (it’s a cement basketball court that also has soccer goals.) They wanted to play too, so we started a game of four on four. One of the older boys pulled out his ghetto blaster and was pumping American hip hop tunes. I only hope they don’t know what the lyrics mean! Each time one of the teams scored, a group of three girls who were bouncing on a trampoline in a nearby backyard would yell, Goooaaallll!!!

Yesterday, Vincent and one of his younger friends asked me to play volleyball. We played on the beach in front of one of the more popular restaurants and before we had the lines drawn in the sand, one of the waiters who was just getting off work asked to join. We had a couple of nice games of two on two while the sun set behind the ocean horizon.

Today, I needed to get the chord from my laptop soldered, so Chabela took me on her errands with her and her kids. I got to see how big this woman’s heart is. She has done so much to help the people of this island.

First we stopped by her workshop where she keeps her equipment used to make all kinds of interesting coconut products, from animals to earrings to baskets. Then we went to the house of one of the women who she hires, to pick up another little person for a play-date with her youngest daughter, Maya. On the way she showed me the recycling depot she built out of cob and glass and plastic bottles, a project she worked on while her husband was suffering his slow demise to lung cancer. The next step planned is organic gardens in the rest of the lot, which is owned by the local high school.

We drove through the poor part of the village and she showed me her next cob and glass bottle project she is going to build, for one of the poorer families who live in a very rustic little shack right now. Then we stopped at Che the fisherman’s house. We stopped there to ask him if he would take some Rotary Club kids out fishing. She is hosting a traveling group of international adolescents for a couple of days, and wanted them to see the traditional fishing methods, that very few people still practice.

All along the way she said hello to the people of this place who obviously know and respect her. She helps people, advises people, motivates people, and encourages sustainable, ecologically conscious choices as this little bit of paradise faces the pressures of the modern world and the disposable culture that we more ‘developed’ nations are handing down through our alluring media and tourist presence. 

She wishes she had more time to do yoga and meditate. Raising three kids, running a business and guest house, performing her endless, unpaid social work and sustainability projects, keep her busy. But her spiritual path is not forgotten. She may even take the time to come with me to the gathering of indigenous elders and new age wisdom teachers that is a few hours from here.

No matter what happens, I know I have met a kindred spirit that shares a path of heart-centred, ecologically minded service. We will stay friends, and our journeys will help to enrich each other’s.

Thank you Chabela!

Everything is a Symbol of Love

Henry is an vietnam vet whose wife helped him figure out he could claim a psychological disability pension. He travels. She doesn’t. Because she’s afraid of the places he goes. Like Mexico. They let each other have boyfriends or girlfriends. As long as they don’t move in, he says. I met him at Chabela’s place.

Chabela is a Quebequois woman whose has been living in Mexico for 15 years. She just got back from working at a Buddhist monestary in Arizona with her 14 year old, 11 year old, and 8 year old. She owns the place where I’m staying. She is kind, and she works hard. Her husband, a Mexican man she shared her life with, died a year ago from lung cancer. When she speaks about him her sadness and pain still show. But Mexico, and this place, are still her home. 

It is the island that is not really an island. Henry says years ago it was a special place. The beaches where nude beaches, and, you could sleep on them. it was a fishing village with lots of fish. It still seems like a special place to me, even if Che’s net only pulls in 500lbs of fish a day instead of 2000lbs. His oars are still made from pieces of wood nailed into poles. Henry still buys his weed by the pound.

But he’s looking for a new place. Time to move on. Henry doesn’t like to stay anywhere too long. Things change. Things always change. He knows hundreds of songs on the guitar, not to perform for you, though if you’ll listen he’ll play, but to be his medicine, to be his company, to be the promise of companionship as he grows old.

Chabela’s oldest, Vincent, walked me to the dentist this evening. The dentist starts here at 4:30 in the afternoon. I could take a boat to the city, like I was planning, and probably have a much nicer clinic. But something about Jesus and his one room dentist office feels right. He’s good people. He remembered Vincent from when he had been there as a younger boy, when his father was still alive. When he sat me in the chair he started right away talking about the hygenics of the tools he was using. He told me I need less work than I thought, and his prices are less than I expected.

I’m here. I can relax. It’s working out good. I can stick around and help fix up the place for cheaper rent. The gathering I also came to Mexico for is more than two weeks away. The Huichol paintings on the yellow walls of my room are enough to convince me to stay.

Some things change. Some things stay the same.

Healing. Letting go. Remembering what it means to love. Loving myself. Loving life. Loving everything. I used to have a patch on my backpack. It was there for years. I finally took it off before this trip because it was so old and worn. It\s not on my bag anymore, but I keep it in my heart. It said,

‘Everything is a symbol of love.’

Grief & Praise

There was a time when I didn't really know how to cry. If I ever did cry, I held it back, choked down the welling up that I was afraid to let out. I had one outlet for my sadness which was my secret, alone-time tear bringer: the memory of my childhood companion, a tabby named Christie, who disappeared in my second year of University, after eleven years of life together. She was my connection to tears. She helped me cry. But as a man, and a boy, I was told, it's not ok to cry. I didn't want people to see me do it. So I held it in.

I have cried more in the last few months than I cried in the twenty-five years before. What a gift! I am so grateful for all my tears. Pain has been such a great teacher. It has helped me to allow my sadness, to celebrate my sadness, in a precious honouring of what I love.

Mourning the loss of mine and Bernice's child, mourning the loss of Andreas and Christina's child, mourning the loss of the idea that I had found someone to grow old in love with, to raise a family with, mourning these losses has been deep journey with spirit into the heart of my love.

How do I love? I haven't really addressed this question directly here yet. Maybe it's time I did.

Since I'm on the topic of grief, I'd like to give some praise. I would like to praise Martin Prechtel, who held me on two long drives during this difficult time. He held me with his words on grief and praise, how in his culture they are the same thing. He speaks with raw, vulnerable honesty about his own pain, and how this pain is a celebration of the gods and all they beauty and magic they have created, which all must die.

I am learning how to grieve, which is praise, which is love. I am learning how to love by feeling the depth of my pain. Dropping all the stories, the blame, the guilt, the shame, and feeling my pain. That's how I love.

Forgiveness is also how I love. Forgiving others for the things they have done that triggered my pain. Forgiving myself for triggering pain in others. Forgiving myself for chosing the painful way, for not loving myself enough to listen to the call of my heart back into my own being.

I call this love because it is surrender to spirit. Love is trusting what is. Allowing what is, really allowing what is, so it can be touched, so it can be felt, so it can be honoured and praised, whether it is sadness or joy.

I watched a movie about two people in love. A love that brought them together despite incredible odds. I cried and cried.  I cried for the loss of the partnership I had. And I cried for the joy of knowing how sacred this love is to me, how I know I will find what I am looking for, because I am feeding the gods with my grief, and they will feel this praise, and they will feed me.

I cry when I see love, I cry when I see pain, I cry when I see passion. I don't know if my fountain of tears will stay with me the way it is now. But I know that now, with the slightest dip into sincerity and passion, beauty and loss, I touch the river of grief and praise that flows through me.

Oh Baby, Not Again!

Oh wow. Two babies leaving in ten days. I woke up crying this morning, but this time it was for someone else's baby, who came out without a heartbeat and smaller than a peanut. Dear, dear friends of mine, family, whose pregnancy was celebrated and cherished. Such challenging lessons happening deep within my heart's reach.

Bowls of Food keep coming to me from Rumi.
I want to share some of it:

Winter blocks the road. Flowers

are taken prisoner underground.

Then green justice tenders a spear.

Go outside to the orchard. These

visitors came a long way, past all

the houses of the zodiac, learning

something new at each stop. And

they're here for such a short time,

sitting at these tables set on the

prow of the wind. Bowls of food

are brought out as answers. but

still no one knows the answer.

Food for the soul stays secret.

Body food gets put out in the open

like us. Those who work at a bakery

don't know the taste of bread like

the hungry beggars do. Because the

beloved wants to know, unseen things

become manifest. Hiding is the

hidden purpose of creation: bury

your seed and wait. After you die,

all the thoughts you had will throng

around like children. The heart

is the secret inside the secret.

My friend Micah climbed up the hill today when I wasn't home and dropped off his extra guitar for me. I sang a song tonight that felt so good. I am so grateful for all the beauty in my life. I am so grateful for the chance to love life so much. What's here now, and what's coming.

A little bit closer to the begining of this long Rumi poem he says...

The purpose of

every gathering is discovered:

to recognize beauty and to love

what's beautiful.

I love you beautiful! Yes you!

Rumi has been so helpful lately. And the Tarot. I asked just now what lessons it had and here's what it said:


It seems appropriate that the Three of Wands has three main interpretations, all of which seem to stand alone but which ultimately relate to each other. The first of these is established strength; success after initial hardship and difficulty. Partnership and teamwork is the second theme, particularly leadership in creative environments. This card also deals with personal virtue and respect for oneself. It shows that, when the chips are down and you have no one to help you, you can turn to yourself for support and you will never be let down.

Thankfully I have many beautiful souls I can turn to when the chips are down. And I'm ready for success after the initial hardship! Particularily in creative environments! And in partnership and teamwork!

Wow. Thank you god (which you can also read as, soul of that little baby I will find one day) for all the beauty stirred in me.

I love you.
And you.
Beautiful.

Goody Bye Baby

Two days ago, I lit a fire. On that fire I placed two blood stained pieces of cloth, the only remains I was given of our baby. Our baby who was dead before I had a chance to put my hand on the belly it lived in and say, 'I love you.' As a man, a man destined to be a father, I find it incredibly painful to be faced with the helplessness of having no control over whether a baby gets to live or die.

I lit this fire alone. I was not given the honour of being with my baby when it burned. Although at first I thought I was. Holding the two pads that had been used to catch the induced miscarriage, a dear, pregnant friend asked if she could see him. I opened them and stared at the empty, blood stained cloth. He had been removed by his mother before she sent me what I now had.

But there was more for the fire: an ultrasound of my blessed little peanut, two coins (I had no idea how significant this was at the time!) a bone, a card, and an amethyst tied with a hebrew symbol for life and a cowry shell. The shell turned to ash, the purple crystal turned clear, and life, life remained intact!

I am grateful for this day, this chance to say good bye, for closure, for endings, for new beginnings. My ceremony began on this day with a serendipitous encounter with an angel who gave me a gift of tarot - In the past the turbulent two of coins; in the future the promising two of cups. "You will find someone whose dreams harmonize with your dreams, whose nature harmonizes with your nature, it will be easy."

Oh ease! Oh harmony! Blessed be the gifts of this incredible pain. Thank you for the strength to carry on. Thank you for the deep lesson in life and love. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Thank you baby.

Good bye.

I will see you again.

Back in the Saddle Again

I am a father. I don't have a baby that is born yet. But I know that I am one. They told me. (There is a rumor going around that the 'they' they keep talking about might be the Yogi Tea people.) Anyway, I know it's true.

I feel inspired by the possibilities of being a father. I celebrate the possibilities of living with people who share a vision. I feel inspired by the incredible communities that exist in our world and by the people who share their stories and their skills with others. I feel inspired to share my stories and my skills with others. I feel inspired to be a part of a growing culture of transparent, emapthetic, supportive, caring people in service of life and well being, more than well being, fun, fantastic, deep, sacred, beautiful being.

I trust in beauty. I know in life there is pain. I surrender and bow down to the little booties at the base of my alter. One day they will be filled.

I give my gifts and find expression for the divine in how I live my life.

It's been a while since I've written anything here. There has been so much. All reminders to keep trusting, to remember that spirit provides, not always how I think, but spirit always provides what our hearts most long for. My heart longs to be a father, to live with people using tools that help create a new culture, and to have fun sharing it.

Down to Business!!!

Ah Life!

What a journey! I am back to simple. No job, no money, and in one week, no home.

I have been here before, so I know it is all going to work out. But it is a little stressful right now.

The beautiful part is that my life is wide open. My only commitment is a dance performance in Nelson on May 20th. And then I am free to follow my heart into whatever magic it is called.

Funny thing is, I am thinking of starting a business. Fifteen years ago I received a Bachelor of Commerce. Yes that is right, a business degree. After that, I got pretty turned off the business world with its greed, oppression, and destructive bottom lines. That is not the way it has to be, but that is what I saw. Seeing this unconsciousness growing in me, I pushed it away. Since then I have travelled the world, found my spiritual path, lived in community, and learned a whole lot more about how I can contribute to life in a meaningful way. 

Now after being on a path of building community, being in service, connecting with my creativity, and learning skills to facilitate mine and others growth and well being, I am finding myself looking for a business idea. Starting a business does not mean I have to give up all these things. On the contrary, now I see a business as a great place to apply all of these skills. Whatever business I start is going to be aligned with my values for living consciously, personally, socially, and environmentally.

And, I see this business as a way to generate the resources that will support me to be a father, live in community, and offer my passion for empathy-based co-creativity. I have no idea what this business is going to be. But I am sending out a clear message to the spirit: I am ready to manifest ease and abundance financially.

So here it comes! I am not sure what it will look like. I trust it will be beautiful!

Despair and Purpose

There are only a few times in my life when I can remember experiencing deep grief and loss. When my beloved cat of 11 years, Christie, disappeared after we moved to a new home. When I have started life inside a woman, who chose not to let it grow. When I left the woman I love more than anyone I have loved before.

The sadness overwhelms me. The feeling inside my body is both painful and empty. I choke out faint, desperate no's, and cry  tears of deep sorrow. It seems like it will never end. It feels unbearable and hopeless. But I do not give up. My pain is my guide. My pain is my truth, and my truth will lead to my joy. I trust this.

The power that comes with this despair is great. And I am grateful for the life that has taught me what to do with it - to follow this pain, to find my yes. My yes to life. My yes to what is most important to me. My yes to what I cannot live without.

One day I will make a baby with a woman. I will work with this woman. I will play with this woman. I will create family and community with this woman. We will live out our dream of being and modelling empathy and co-creativity. We will honour the earth and live a life that reflects our values for the care and well being of people and our planet.

I do not know where this will be. I do not know how it will happen. I do not know who it will be with. But I know this. I will live this dream. It is the purpose that guides my life. It is what I was born to do.

Laminer Flow

I just finished performing three shows in two days with 14 people. I love performing. When I get out there under the stage lights I fall into a trance, a deep current, life's laminer flow.

My friend Lars told me about the laminer flow. One time he launched himself off of massive waterfall in a tiny boat that few people have ever run. It's dangerous. There's a big hole at the bottom of the waterfall. That means a swirling pocket of water that keeps you trapped underneath.

The laminer flow is the vein of water that runs strongest and smoothest. When you're in your boat you can dig your paddle down into the laminer flow and catch some current to hurry your boat along. If you flip out of your boat and get stuck in a hole, you can reach out a hand for the laminer flow feel for a way out.

This particular hole at the bottom of the waterfall was much less forgiving because there wasn't much flow out. It mostly just held you down and went around and around. Lars enjoys the thrill of perilous adventure that demands his full presence and power.

Even now at 62 he's still telemarking through mountains and riding boats through whitewater. And he was up on stage dancing with us while I was catching laminar flow. He was probably catching it too. Things gets done easily and quickly in the flow. That current of life carries me on stage. My being feels alive, alert, and clear.

Thankfully I'm feeling much more clear in general these days. It was one of the most heart breaking experiences of my life to realize that I'm not able to be with Bernice right now. I got some advice that said, listen to your heart. If the pain you feel at the thought of staying outways the feeling of positive potential then it's time to go.

Bernice is a goddess, there's no doubt about that. But I have a clear vision about how I want conflict handled in relationship. And it wasn't happening the way I want it to. It's my path. I trust this.

I still haven't moved all my stuff out. Rosy, Bernice(who was also in the performance)'s youngest daughter, came and sat on my lap in the dressing room after the show. I'm gonna miss how much she plays and cuddles with me. It's taken me a while to admit this to myself - I need to let go of being a member of their family. I love the Raabis', all of them, they are all beautiful people. And it's time to clear my stuff out of their house.

Whoa! Blank slate! Now what am I going to do?

My Response

I couldn't resist!

If you want to change the world… LOVE a man

A response by Michael Sheely

If you want to change the world… love a man - really love him.

Find the one you can’t bear to be without, the one whose breath fills your body with life.

The one you are afraid to love so deeply.

You who he has held for millennia, lifting you with him, off the earth, into the endless possibilities of light.

When you want to run,

From fear, from grief,

Stop. Turn around. Open your eyes.

See him, see his beauty, and all he creates for you.

This man is perfect – like the sun, the moon, the stars,

The infinite sky, the endless cosmic tapestry,

Every speck of dust, every mountain, every bone, every drop of blood…

He is the echo of footsteps, the beating of the drum, the call to action, the movement of life,

For all the choices you are afraid to make, for the answers you don’t have, for the strength you can’t find,

Turn to him.

If you do not trust his being, you have not seen the light of his endless fire of love.

If you want to change the world… love a man

Not for what you can get, for what you cannot ever own

See his glory, see his power, see how much he holds,

Give up the fight to make him what you want,

Fight instead for his commitment to truth.

You will not find him in casual seductions that distract you from your pain.

Your heart will not be filled by more and more men.

Your heart will be filled by God,

If you cannot see God,

Run,

But if you are ready to let yourself believe that seeing God is a choice,

Not just sometimes, always,

Open your eyes,

And let your fear consume itself,

Let it eat your insides out,

Until all that’s left is faith.

If you want to change the world… love a man.

Love him like there is nothing else to love.

He is ancestor. He is unborn child.

Every boy must grow to become a man,

But not every father knows

How to teach the secrets of God,

Are you willing to forgive?

Are you willing live each moment new?

Are you ready to give your heart’s devotion?

Not just with words, are you ready to walk?

The journey of man is a healing path,

Stand up and take his hand.

He needs you.

If you want to change the world… love a man

You shaming him will not get you what you want

Your blame will not change your responsibility to yourself

Let go of judging

See with new eyes the precious man beside you

See the heart, soul, mind, and body

Only with this whole vision can you see the sacred gift.

Let go of stories

Trust what is

Forget your belief that you deserve more, that you are somehow better,

See through fear, stop demanding what is not given

Let go of who you think he is, and see the man in who is there.

Ask him how he feels,

Ask him what he wants,

Listen.

Your compassion can be the gift that

That lifts him back into his light.

If you want to change the world… love a man

Love him through his anger, his shame, his grief

He has suffered his own violence for generations

Be there for him

Hold your arms out and embrace him

You cannot change the world by denying what is

And if you are not prepared to look, then leave.

This is not the place for you.

If you are not ready to see man,

If you are not ready to know sacred masculine,

Turn back to where ever you came from

Start again

Because you cannot live without him.

Don’t come to him half way

Don’t come to him with conditions

Don’t come to him if you are not ready to let paranoia die

Your past pain must find its peace with the past

Victimhood must end

That time is over

Step into your power

God smiles on those who claim their lives.

What if love is the dream that has been forgotten?

What if what you hold is only half of what you want?

Are you willing to open all the way,

To let him in, are you willing to share the beauty of the Masculine?

I you want to change the world… love a man

Follow your pain to the depths of your heart

It is only there that you can know the fullness of love

When at last you settle into you own deepest truth

You ideas will fall away

You will see God

There will be great light, a magic that can only be found in the honest vulnerability of love,

A magic so profound it has no limits,

A gift so immense it never ends.

Allow yourself to surrender, to remember

The infinite realm of sacred, divine union.

What a journey this is!

Why am I so afraid?

This darn poem keeps showing up for me. I'm struggling with committing to a woman I know I love, and feeling fear around losing my commitment to my life purpose of consciously compassionate community. She would help me to see the either or thinking in this process. Why am I so afraid?


If you want to change the world... LOVE a woman 
By Cassie Lyn

If you want to change the world… love a woman-really love her.
Find the one who calls to your soul, who doesn’t make sense.
Throw away your check list and put your ear to her heart and listen.
Hear the names, the prayers, the songs of every living thing-
every winged one, every furry and scaled one,
every underground and underwater one, every green and flowering one,
every not yet born and dying one…
Hear their melancholy praises back to the One who gave them life.
If you haven’t heard your own name yet, you haven’t listened long enough.
If your eyes aren’t filled with tears, if you aren’t bowing at her feet,
you haven’t ever grieved having almost lost her.

If you want to change the world… love a woman-one woman
beyond yourself, beyond desire and reason,
beyond your male preferences for youth, beauty and variety
and all your superficial concepts of freedom.
We have given ourselves so many choices
we have forgotten that true liberation
comes from standing in the middle of the soul’s fire
and burning through our resistance to Love.
There is only one Goddess.
Look into Her eyes and see-really see
if she is the one to bring the axe to your head.
If not, walk away. Right now.
Don’t waste time “trying.”
Know that your decision has nothing to do with her
because ultimately it’s not with who,
but when we choose to surrender.

If you want to change the world… love a woman.
Love her for life-beyond your fear of death,
beyond your fear of being manipulated
by the Mother inside your head.
Don’t tell her you’re willing to die for her.
Say you’re willing to LIVE with her,
plant trees with her and watch them grow.
Be her hero by telling her how beautiful she is in her vulnerable majesty,
by helping her to remember every day that she IS Goddess
through your adoration and devotion.

If you want to change the world… love a woman
in all her faces, through all her seasons
and she will heal you of your schizophrenia-
your double-mindedness and half-heartedness
which keeps your Spirit and body separate-
which keeps you alone and always looking outside your Self
for something to make your life worth living.
There will always be another woman.
Soon the new shiny one will become the old dull one
and you’ll grow restless again, trading in women like cars,
trading in the Goddess for the latest object of your desire.
Man doesn’t need any more choices.
What man needs is Woman, the Way of the Feminine,
of Patience and Compassion, non-seeking, non-doing,
of breathing in one place and sinking deep intertwining roots
strong enough to hold the Earth together
while she shakes off the cement and steel from her skin.

If you want to change the world… love a woman, just one woman .
Love and protect her as if she is the last holy vessel.
Love her through her fear of abandonment
which she has been holding for all of humanity.
No, the wound is not hers to heal alone.
No, she is not weak in her codependence.

If you want to change the world… love a woman
all the way through
until she believes you,
until her instincts, her visions, her voice, her art, her passion,
her wildness have returned to her-
until she is a force of love more powerful
than all the political media demons who seek to devalue and destroy her.

If you want to change the world,
lay down your causes, your guns and protest signs.
Lay down your inner war, your righteous anger
and love a woman…
beyond all of your striving for greatness,
beyond your tenacious quest for enlightenment.
The holy grail stands before you
if you would only take her in your arms
and let go of searching for something beyond this intimacy.

What if peace is a dream which can only be re-membered
through the heart of Woman?
What if a man’s love for Woman, the Way of the Feminine
is the key to opening Her heart?

If you want to change the world…love a woman
to the depths of your shadow,
to the highest reaches of your Being,
back to the Garden where you first met her,
to the gateway of the rainbow realm
where you walk through together as Light as One,
to the point of no return,
to the ends and the beginning of a new Earth

I am burning in the fire with this one.
Somebody get a hose. No never mind. I need this to burn away.

Coming Up For Air

I really want to celebrate myself for a moment. I would like to honour my willingness to make difficult choices, and to see each opportunity as a chance to grow.

My first post on this blog was more than a month and a half ago. Then, I was in an open relationship with my partner and living with her, her husband, and their three children. Wow! What a choice!

I have been following my heart on a journey of community and fatherhood. My heart called me to this woman and I immediately joined her, and her family. We shared, it seemed, such a similar vision, including living in community, having a child together, sharing our work and our passions with each other. Our love was strong, there is no doubt. Our love is strong. But recently I realized how challenging this choice actually was.

I don't know any other men who have left their friends and community, moved to another town, and moved in with a nuclear family, while having relationship with the mother and wife. It seems kind of crazy. It seems overwhelming. I didn't have a bedroom of my own. In fact the only person in the house who did was the 14 year old daughter. The two younger girls share a room. And there was a bed in the master bedroom and a bed in the living room for the adults to negotiate each night. (I don't want to make it seem like there was a lot of negotiation. Generally it just sort of happened.)

Moving in with an established family of fourteen years is kind of like moving to another country. When you move to another country you have to adapt to the culture, you can't expect the culture to adapt to you. It is firmly embedded and reinforced on a daily basis. I was a little bit like the guy from another country. At first I struggled with acceptance. In order to fit in I joined. In joining a new culture I left behind a part of my own culture. The culture that was a part of my identity. I left behind a part of me.

It wasn't inevitable, or necessary, but it was how I responded to the situation. It lasted as long as it needed to. And then I realized, this is not healthy for me. I am not meant to give up what I have worked so hard to create. I am not a passive recipient of culture. I am a conscious evolutionary, a choice maker, a culture creator.

I want to be a father. And to be a father, I need to be a king, and a king needs a kingdom. Whether this kingdom is tangible or intangible, made from brick and stone, or purpose and passion, is not important. What is important is that a father create a space for his child to enter into the world in a way that honours his integrity.

I was out of my integrity in that home. Like a trapped animal backed into a corner I scratched and clawed my way to safety. I am not proud of some of my behaviour then, but I am proud of my ownship of my present situation. I have compassion and forgiveness myself and I recongize the incredible challenges I chose, listening the judgements by others who saw it as messing up a family, the stuggle for acceptance within the family, the unresolved tramas at play, the financial ambiguity, the resistence by other members of the family to the idea of our having a baby. The list could go on and on. But it doesn't need to. There is one piece that is most important. My purpose in life, what fills my existence with meaning, is to live and model empathy-based, co-creative community. I wasn't living up to this dream.

So now I have moved out. I'm not sure what the future looks like. But I know that I am committed to my purpose, and that it will guide me to the fulfillment of my dreams. I trust this.

There is a soul waiting to be born, waiting to find life through my seed. There is a community waiting to be born, built in part from my precious dreams. I am committed to listening, to loving, to saying yes. I am ready to receive all that I dream of, and more, in an easy and healthy way, and I trust that it is already happening.

In the Beginning

"Let yourself be drawn by the stronger pull of what you truly love." Rumi

Us humans sure do seem bizarre sometimes. Watching our movements I often wonder, What are we doing? What are we motivated by? Do we give ourselves permission to be drawn by what the beloved Sufi poet, Rumi, suggests?

Moment by moment being drawn by what we love! The fresh enthusiasm of a child worn over and over again as heart inspired action. Is that what we're doing? Is that what we want to be doing?

That's what I want to be doing. I didn't learn it in school. My parents didn't teach it to me. And there was never any boss, priest, or guidance counsellor who gave me the kind of advice Rumi gives. I'm not exactly sure who taught me to follow what I love. I imagine it's something we're born with, something primal, alive in each of us. Over time, what we should do starts to outweigh what we want to do, morality is conditioned into us from the outside. And we, bright humans, blessed with the ability to feel, to think, and to choose, choral ourselves into cultural norms convenient to our dispositions.

I thank the beatniks and the Buddhists for some early on awakenings. Intonations of a freedom I longed for, an enjoyment of life's beauty, on a mountain, hitch-hiking, in poetry. But it was going away, and then coming back, that really opened me up to a greater awareness of what I was dealing with.

I realized I was brought up a willing participant in a dominant paradigm of privilege, paycheques, and power. The more I looked, the more I saw, how deeply this penetrated my life. I was already hooked to the idea of needing steady employment to cover the monthly payments for the thousands and thousands of dollars in student loan debt I had taken on to complete my 'education.' A vision of me and my nuclear family in our big, single family home, with two cars, two kids, two parents with jobs, glimmered hopefully before me, then suddenly flared up, burst into flame, and vanished.

I saw my life disorganize, then hang in limbo, whiled I trolled continents for answers to questions I wasn't even sure of. Perhaps it was Rumi's far off voice calling. Perhaps it was my own. I knew I was looking for something. I didn't know what.

It came to me gradually, but when I found it, it slid into place like a custom made pair of shoes. I realized my purpose in this life is to live in community, to open my heart to myself, to my community, and the world around me, to celebrate the beauty of our experience, and to help others do the same. I had been studying psychology, community building, conflict resolution, compassionate communication, restorative justice, sustainable living, art as a tool for empowerment, creativity as a venue for the mystical work of modelling empathy.

I realized I knew what I wanted. I knew what to follow. I knew what i loved.

I love warm, open, connections with people. I love creating. I love living in harmony with life.

Then a new vision began to form. No longer the pictures I had seen on the outside. One that was forming on the inside. A vision of people together, in a way I hadn't yet seen.

A year ago, through the whims of fortune and the sweat of hard work, I gathered a community on a secluded, but breathtaking site, to try an experiment: a community formed with a foundation of empathy-based co-creativity. I called it the L.O.V.E. Collective. The acronym stands for Lifestyle Of Valuing Empathy. For three months we lived together, working, playing, and creating. Then for three months we travelled, sharing our 'performance' which consisted of (to oversimplify) invisible theatre on a dance floor that ran through a series of emotionally charged scenarios designed to provoked fear, anger, sadness, joy, and compassionate love. To make the experience more authentic and real we used situations from our own lives as material for our dramas. We scripted very little. Each time we did a show we sat down and said, 'OK, who's got anger in them today?' We knew our triggers, and the deeper connection to our truth that helped us to find resolution to the challenges. For each scene we modelled an empathetic responses to people's pain, and left many people amazed by what they had seen, some still not knowing if what they had seen was real, or acted. Partly because it was both.

Our work was incredible. But I was twelve years older than the next youngest person in this community and found myself with different needs for commitment and longevity. Alongside my drive for community, was growing my desire for fatherhood. Then, halfway through our tour, I found the woman that I wanted to realize this dream with. Everything changed. Suddenly, life dealt me a whole new hand.

A year later, I am now living with my partner Bernice, her three girls, Ayla, Lily, and Rosy, and her husband Chris. We are an unconventional family, mostly because we don't fit the mold. (People get a little freaked out sometimes by things that don't fit the mold.) Bernice and I are committed to cultivating the conscious dance community in the Kootenays, we're planning workshops and performances together, and we're looking for more magic to build a community that supports our dreams and nourishes us so that we can bring a baby into the world while we share our vision of compassionate creativity.

In a way I'm just starting. In a way I've been doing this for years. Now, I am putting this vision out into the world through this blog, so that I may let the magic of this incredible existence find its way into the intimate details of my journey, and fill the spaces that help to complete the picture I now carry with me. A picture that comes from the inside. A picture I am still creating.

As I release my hold on what I think I should be, there emerges more and more of what I truly love.