Play Hard: Guided by Providence

In Moab today. Utah is "Life Elevated".
Moab is "where Adventure Begins."
Here's how.

Slept under the stars last night just outside the gates of Canyonlands National Park. Dream visions  were basically: slow down... and, another strange driving vision. For me, the dream metaphor of driving has always been about how in control, or lack of control, I have over my life at any given point in time. When I was at PlayMotion, I had a recurring nightmare about being in the drivers seat, passed out, eyes barely open, in the night, in the rain, in a car whose brakes didn't work and whose accelerator was stuck on full throttle. The metaphor seems totally clear now.

Other times I've been in the passenger or back seat with someone else driving. Again, fairly clear.

Last night, though, I had a very unique vision: I was in the back seat of my Suburban, the Big Black Truck, and JuJu, one of the young founders of Alchemy, was in the front seat. The odd thing was, I had a steering wheel mounted to the back of the front passenger seat. And JuJu wasn't really paying attention to the road that much, because I was steering from the back seat. Need to think about this one a little more. While a gut preference would be to be directly in the drivers seat of a capable vehicle, Being in the 'limousine privelege' seat and maintaining steering control might just be the best of both worlds.

Now, back to waking life.

Arriving in Moab for unknown reasons. On my way in, a fleet of 10 or so Porsche Cayman's zoom out of town. I stop by the Holiday Inn Express for a free breakfast. And there are literally tons of bicyclists mulling the in parking lot. They have racing shirts on that say "DC Metro Area", and I ask one of them what's up. "We're here for the Moab Century Race." Cool. Eat breakfast. Afters, stop two girls in the parking lot, ask if they're from DC. They are. They encourage me to enter the race. I think about it for a little bit. You Only Live Once. YOLO. Here we go.

I can't quite believe I'm doing this. But what the hell, I was just thinking about how little exercise I'm getting on this trip. Time to step it up.

So, tomorrow I will rise at 5:30am, don my biking gear, down a large breakfast, and head out into the wilderness of Moab for a race. w00t!!!

a vision for life 2.0

At Burning Man this year, I experienced the absolute turning point of my vocational life.

I was wandering through Center Camp, looking at the art in the gallery. One of the panels was empty, and a small hand written sign said:

"Sit in front of me,
look into the mirror, and
see your Heart's Truth."

Leaning against the ground was a mirror mosaic with a heart in the middle. I sat down in lotus position and stared into the mirror. As expected, I saw a multi-faceted reflection of myself. A bit wild-looking due to 4 days in the desert, but still, at its core, my familiar face.

I stared deeper. It was then that I noticed a small gap of a few inches above the mirror. Shifting my gaze to the gap, I was fascinated to see a delicate hand, painting with a brush on heavy artist paper.

The Artists Hand by Alex Grey

My mind started reeling: was this the metaphor of the mirror? Was this person painting me? Who was it? Was there a hidden camera so they could see me? Where were they? Were they in a hidden room? I moved my head slightly and looked closer. The painter was a woman. She didn't appear to notice me. So I leaned in conspiratorially and whispered "pssst!". Slowly, curiously, she turned her head, then leaned closer to me, and calmly responded: "Yes?" She was at attention.

I explained to her the stated purpose of the mirror, saying "So I was seeking my heart's truth, and here you are, painting!" Unexpectedly, she began to weep. She gasped, then blurted out: "I used to be an artist, that was my path, and then I sold my soul to commercial success and the corporate world." She continued to cry, tears running freely down her refined face. I decided to breach the gap, telling her: "Wait one minute."

I got up, determined to find physical access to the other side of the mirror. I wound my way around the gallery labyrinth, and sure enough, there she was, a petite woman in a chair, at a table, painting with watercolors, crying. I had her get up and gave her a big hug. We both sat down, and I listened to her story. Somehow we got to the subject of acrobatic yoga. She called it acroyoga. It turned out that she was planning to attend a workshop in Costa Rica, with a teacher who she used to practice with as a child. It just so turned out that that teacher was an acrobatic friend of mine. The world gets smaller every day, in a good way.

Lux rocks deep metta acro on playa

I invited her to practice a little, and we found a nice quiet spot and  worked through some therapeutics and basic acrobatics. It was in this flow that I realised that even experienced dancers needed very clear and explicit instruction from the base; every school of movement has their own vocabulary. I also realised that there is a very sensitive balance between agressive, tight, beautiful, fun acro and gentle, loving, careful metta antigravity massage. I try to balance the two. In the midst of this thought pattern, Jennifer reached down from the air and tickled me. It was the most natural and fun thing; luckily I'm an experienced base and giggled and laughed while maintaining balance.

We shared a little more conversation, exchanged contact information, and parted ways with a deep and lasting hug.

Of all my playa experiences, it is this energetic exchange that I've returned to most often.

Life 2.0, here we come!

home again

arrived once again at my second home... lovely SF! Let the grand adventure begin!!!!

Blackout? How to be prepared.

the house next door didn't fare so well

This is fascinating. The DC area suffered a massive wind and lightning storm, as close to a tornado as I've ever witnessed. Terrified by the incessant banging of branches on the house, I ran outside to the park to get a better perspective. The sight was truly epic. Blue and Pink and White lightning, howling winds, massive trees swaying 30' in either direction as the winds tore through them. I'd never witnessed colored lightning before, and the gale force winds were so strong that I momentarily wondered if this was in fact a nuclear incident.

So now, PepCo is telling residents that it will be 4 to 5 days before power is restored. In a first world country... the nation's capitol, no less! Amazingly, or perhaps naturally, all the prime commercial locations are online, with massive diesel generators. So the mall is air conditioned and online, but none of the traffic lights work. Amazing. And so it goes that I find myself at the Mall, along with hundreds of other refugees, chilling out by a working power outlet, charging my arsenal of Apple devices, and availing myself of the gloriously free wifi. All I need now is a haircut, a manicure, and a sultry waitress bringing me an ice cold beer.

In all, I like the effects of the power outage. It brings people out of their shells, bonds them in a common struggle, and opens up channels of support and communication. I've found many more people out of their homes, and the whole situation at the traffic lights, massive intersections with only courtesy to guide them, both fascinates and delights.

So for myself, and all of us, I've compiled my "things to make sure you have ready in a blackout".

Enjoy:

General Knowledge:
- It gets darker inside before it gets darker outside, by at least 90 minutes
- It makes a big difference if it's a new moon or a full moon
- Headlamps are the bomb
- ICE IS KEY : ACQUIRE SOME QUICKLY
--- not just for meat / dairy preservation, but almost more importantly, for
- COLD BEVERAGES
- You get up at sunrise. Period. Daylight is precious.
 - Your car is your generator
--- which is a good reason to have a full tank of gas at all times, or in the words of a good friend, always fill up your talk when it goes below half.
- and a good reason to have a car charger for your phone
- if you want to go full bore, get a good 750W inverter at a truck stop. For about $100, you can have normal AC power in your vehicle.
- Batteries are good - new, all sizes AAA to D... and make especially good gifts for neighbors.

Recommendations / Wisdom:
- The hour before sunset is hyper critical::
--- Clean things up and get everything in order
- Before Dark, Know exactly where your essential items are!
--- Flashlight
--- Cellphone
--- Water
--- Glasses
--- Toothbrush
- HAVE A HEADLAMP ON WELL BEFORE DARK

Casual Observations
- not having coffee is a challenge
- It's a little scary at night. Houses seem vulnerable.
- People are generally good and function well in groups
- Major traffic intersections with no stoplights, and everyone gets along... wow.
- People go outside more and socialize more when there is no TV or AC
- It's eerily quiet at night... and pleasantly quiet.
- ...except for the damn generators. Here in suburban DC, it appears that about 3% of houses have gennies. Impressive, actually. Except for the damn noise.
- this is the first time I've been excited to wield my 4-D cell MagLite.
- Various lighting options witnessed throughout the neighborhood:
--- Solar, genie, gas lamps, flashlights, candles. the gas lamps were especially charming.
--- Love the candles... Even in stores!
- People go to sleep at nautical twilight

credo

Reward success. Learn from failure. Link to evidence. Honor integrity. Show your work. Seek truth. Correct mistakes. Make new ones. #credo

— Alex Howard (@digiphile) June 1, 2012

The Peaceful Warrior

Today's wonderfully enslaved and ultimately guilty and satisfying pleasure was to buy a bunch of songs I'd wanted for months, load up the iPod, roll out the BlockRocker, kick back with a Rolling Rock, and wash first my new car, then my dad's classic roadster.

The realization didn't hit until the second beer and the second car.

Throughout the entire car washing project, I had multiple flashbacks to the [original] movie Karate Kid, where Mr. Miyagi instructs the young boy on precisely how to wash all his cars. The circular motion, unbeknownst to him, is meant to teach him some of the fundamental flows of kar-a-tey.

Rocking to that wonderful soundtrack, I embodied all my best dance, yoga, and martial arts moves as I circled, squatted, and polished the cars. And sometime in the midst of the roadster, I felt this wonderful feeling overwhelm me, of service, of gratitude, of fun. Yes, I was washing my dad's car. No, I didn't need to. Yes, I was enjoying it. And I glowed in the light of the service, son to father. Me getting my workout, him getting his roadster sparkley clean.

When I was done, music still playing, he came out and I gave him the honor of inspecting my work. He shook my hand, and like a little kid, without hesitation, with a huge grin on his face, hopped in, put the top down, and sped off into a new adventure... like it should be.

Vision into Life

VISION:
dream night of May 23, 2012.

a woman's body truly is a cockpit.
an space within which you can drive at high human speeds, with a platitude of controls, dials, and knobs.
some are junky old cars with torn seats, others are modern machines with heated leather. take your pick.

TRANSLATE VISION TO REALITY.

THREE DREAMS:
L. NY. the 100,000 years spaceship dream.
C. SF. the twin hoops rainbow dream.
A. JB. the vivid beach teleportation dream.
        > supporting cast: KH, SR, AC, TJ

based on last nights dream, the Alison Dream, one solution I see is to drive all night and arrive in Florida in the morning. Yet I loathe this idea, the hard drive. In the dream, no drive was required. In the dream, I simply placed my credit card on the table outside my Dad's house, went to sleep in my own bed, and woke up the next morning outside the condos in Jax Beach, with my credit card sitting on the same glass table, there. I explained to Alison that I was dreaming, that I was actually in DC, that I had somehow mysteriously teleported to the beach and might disappear at any moment.

another solution is to email Lila and accept her open offer to travel to Montreal in a car from NYC. Yet I fear this idea, the spontaneous trip.

i am so tired from randomly driving hard. from spazzing. from ending up in places and situations and wondering how i got there.

the AT was designed to calm me down.
so was marathon training.
so is triathlon training.

they were also designed to purify my temple, my body, to cleanse it of the alcohol dragon, to maximize my lungs and muscles and mind / muscle connection.

those things, walking is a metaphor for driving, and driving is... intentional.
driving is harnessing the power of evolution and machine and fuel to move in a given direction, efficiently and quickly.

how intriguing then, apart from the AT, which was a clear directed vector North, that the races bring you full circle... though, perhaps, you are a different person when you finish, then you were when you started.