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.

The Fractal Nature of Things

I just had a major life realization.

For the past 5 years, I had told myself that I was claiming my divine mobility by shedding myself of material things. I let go of my house, my furniture, my wife, everything; all attachments. I reduced my possessions to those things that would fit into a backpack. literally. and hiked. and worked. and got healthy.

Now I am digging through my very austere, very organized things, and think: I need to go through all of this and throw out some pieces of it. And I realised all the sudden: there is no effective difference between sorting through a garage, a storage compartment, or a backpack. In fact, at any scale, material things only fall into a few core categories:

• sentimental
• necessary
• luxury
• tools
• toys

...these categories simply expand and contract with wealth and stability. A home is simply a very large, very rooted tent... a container in which to hold possessions and within which to seek shelter and safety.

The irony is that I've learned that safety is everywhere you bring it... and no where. I've successfully fended off 350 pound wild bears while camping in the wilderness, and been overwhelmed with armed force breaking down the locked door of my 'secure' apartment.

So, here's to responsibly building up the fractal of material possessions again... and to always remembering my humbling moments of need and poverty, and to fundamentally CHANGING THE METHODS BY WHICH I INTERACT WITH THINGS.

It is, after all, not the things we have, its how we treat them, how we use them, and how they effect our interactions with the most important thing in the universe, our fellow humans.

What things do you have in your life that hold you back?

What things do you have that help you relate to others?

Reality Speaks Loudly

When you die,
you're gonna regret the things you don't do.
You think you're queer?
I'm gonna tell you something, we're all queer.
You think you're a thief?
So what.
You get befuddled by a middle class morality?...
get shut of it!
shut it out!

you cheat on your wife?
you did it.
live with it

You fuck little girls?
So, be it.

There's an absolute morality?
Ha, maybe.
And... then, what?
If you think there is,
go ahead, be that thing!

Bad people go to hell?
I don't think so.
You think that?
Act that way.

Hell exists on Earth?
Yes.
I won't live in it.
That's Me.

Tri Training Revelations

Back into the swing of tri-training. Finally got my bike shoes and clips the other day. Very much a transformation of the bike experience. Ability to deliver 100% power to the wheels, with near perfect efficiency. Can now focus completely on optimal form / minimization of lateral sway / cadence.

Trek 1000 on Fit Sport. Mobile Base One.

Today was the very first day of transition training. My original intent was simply to see how fast I could get into running shoes from the bike. That exercise proved trivial; 8 seconds flat. Then I realised the real point of transitioning: not how fast you could prepare for the next phase, but actually how fast you could enter it. So it was that 12 minutes later, I began a brisk run.

That's where it hit me: this is going to be a challenge. The run felt hard. My legs, spoiled by the even and perfect circular flow of the bicycle, were now being forced into a concussive hammering, left right left right left right. I realised the real art wasn't the micro transitions between legs, but rather, the actual physical phase transitions of the muscles from one hyper-regular activity to the next.

Metaphors run deep.

T minus 91 days and counting to Boulder.

Lessons of the Tri

Today I am repairing my bicycle. This is a task that, traditionally, I have taken to the bike shop to accomplish. Truly, they can do in 10 minutes what takes me 2 hours. But in making the commitment to race in a triathlon, I feel that I've also forged an inner agreement to learn about transportation technology. To ramble a bit, I started this journey on the highest of the high end, building a database of the world's fastest driving machines, exploring their pedigree, performance specifications, evolutions and design patterns.

Like marathon runners, the top handful of exotic cars are both light and powerful. They make do with smaller engines, amped up to outrageous power via the use of supercharging technology (where the air power of the exhaust fumes is re-inserted into the main torque generator), and shave off every last ounce to achieve essentially ultralight mass. Add to that superior aerodynamics, and smart gearboxes, and you get ultimate performance.

So coming back to present-day reality... My model of the triathlon goes something like this: the tri is a model of our own human evolution, our human race as it were. We began as aquatic beings (mythology: Atlantis, creationism: the fifth day, evolution: prokaryotes), and that is the swimming. We then crawled onto land, and that is the running. Finally, we created technology, and that is the bike. Yes, yes, I know that the formal order of the tri is swim / bike / run, however, when I make my own race, it will be swim / run / bike : sea / land / tech.

I've also, in the past few years, learned to do some primitive maintenance on my motor vehicles. And again, it takes me three to 10 times longer than the professional mechanics, yet I get the satisfaction of knowing how this magical machine which transports me works.

A year or so ago, I found myself carless. So I caught rides with friends, and more often than not, biked everywhere. I even once biked 35 miles to a yoga class in the suburbs. As I got more used to it, I found the bike completely fascinating. Whereas running was a jarring sport, making my bones and body numb by the incessant and infinitely repetitive impact of feet on hard pavement, the bike had this feeling of... of ultimate FLOW. Like, it really felt, especially once I transitioned from my mountain bike to a racing bike, like this was the Ultimate transformation of power, from human energy to linear velocity. With every stroke of the pedals, I felt the direct transfer of power to the gears, and the direct translation of that into raw distance traveled. Soooo efficient! So graceful! So able, even more so than a sprint, to suck the oxygen right out of your lungs!

Now to get to the point of my post:

The marathon taught me two key life lessons: 1) disciplined training for an event guarantees that the actual event goes well, and 2) I can indeed accomplish anything that I a) set my mind to, and b) train for, and c) plan for.

Now the tri- is teaching me how to be responsible for my own technology. How to fix tires, brakes, gears, pedals. How human energy and mechanical leverage can fuse together in a beautiful and flowing expression of grace and power. How things work. That I am an empowered being that can fix his own ride whenever necessary.

That's all for now.
'Til next time, enjoy the ride!
G

quiet in the storm: ultraphysics is born

Well,
the start-up work has finally settled down a little, so it's time to invest a little in the Dream. In this case, the dream is next generation educational tools and toys for children.

One of my favorite teachers in high school was always Mr. Whipple, a brilliant and inspired teacher of AP Physics. In that single year, or intimate class of 8 genii explored everything from simple rigid body mechanics all the way up to electromagnetism and thermodynamics.

It is my goal to encapsulate the entire body of that learning into an interactive lab on multi-touch tablets and table surfaces. So, without further ado, I present to you:


UltraPhysics
by Greg Roberts
an interactive lab modelling our physical universe.



Enjoy :)

suicide options

This morning I had a really really strange dream where I was extremely depressed and utterly convinced I would commit suicide. I felt that my life had just completely went awry, and that it was time to end it and restartthe whole thing, if that was at all possible. It then occurred to me that when I committed this final act, I wanted to do it right. So I went to my laptop and began to google "how to commit suicide".

Before I finished writing the letters, I realised that if I googled that, I would probably be hammered with hundreds of ads for help lines, and that I would have to call one of them... because, seriously, those people are angels, they aren't charging anything, and wouldn't anyone want to speak to at least one other human and check in before leaving this world?

With that realisation, I started to think other things. Such as, first: maybe there isn't a restart button for life. Maybe if we choose to end this life, that's it, and our soul is send to the great landfill in the sky. Maybe this one life is the only one we get, and it is a gift to be cherished.

Second, I thought, if I am desperate enough to consider ending this alltogether, then really, what do I have to lose? What could be worse than death? If I'm thinking of ending it, then literally, I can do ANYTHING. Am I depressed about a delinquent credit card bill? Past due taxes? I can throw those bills right out the window! I won't be the first person on this earth to die with a negative net worth. And really, is that what I will be judged by, upon my exit?

So somehow, with this odd dream, I awoke with both subtle terror and grand hope.

I awoke, in fact, in a very strange and utterly luxurious hotel room, the bright sun reflecting up onto the ceiling, thinking,

THIS IS THE FIRST DAY OF MY NEW LIFE!