The River......

Once upon a time there was a beautiful river finding her way among the hills, forests and meadows. She began by being a joyful stream of water, a spring always dancing and singing as she ran down from the top of the mountain. She was very young at the time, and as she came to the lowland she slowed down. She was thinking about going to the ocean. As she grew up, she learned to look beautiful, winding gracefully among the hills and meadows.

One day she noticed the clouds within herself. Clouds of all sorts of colors and forms. She did nothing during these days but chase after clouds. She wanted to possess a cloud, to have one for herself. But clouds float and travel in the sky and they are always changing their form. Sometimes they look like an overcoat, sometimes like a horse. Because of the nature of impermanence within the clouds, the river suffered very much. Her pleasure, her joy had become just chasing after clouds, one after another, but despair, anger and hatred became her life.

Then one day a strong wind came and blew away all the clouds in the sky. The sky became completely empty. Our river thought that life was not worth living, for there were no longer any clouds to chase after. She wanted to die. “If there are no clouds, why should I be alive?” But how can a river take her own life?

That night the river had the opportunity to go back to herself for the first time. She had been running for so long after something outside of herself that she had never seen herself. That night was the first opportunity for her to hear her own crying, the sounds of water crashing against the banks of the river. Because she was able to listen to her own voice, she discovered something quite important.

She realized that what she had been looking for was already in herself. She found out that clouds are nothing but water. Clouds are born from water and will return to water. And she found out that she herself is also water.

The next morning when the sun was in the sky, she discovered something beautiful. She saw the blue sky for the first time. She had never noticed it before. She had only been interested in clouds, and she had missed seeing the sky, which is the home of all the clouds. Clouds are impermanent, but the sky is stable. She realized that the immense sky had been within her heart since the very beginning. This great insight brought her peace and happiness. As she saw the vast wonderful blue sky, she knew that her peace and stability would never be lost again.

That afternoon the clouds returned, but this time she did not want to possess any of them. She could see the beauty of each cloud, and she was able to welcome all of them. When a cloud came by, she would greet him or her with loving kindness. When that cloud wanted to go away, she would wave to him or her happily and with loving kindness. She realized that all clouds are her. She didn’t have to choose between the clouds and herself. Peace and harmony existed between her and the clouds.

That evening something wonderful happened. When she opened her heart completely to the evening sky she received the image of the full moon – beautiful, round, like a jewel within herself. She had never imagined that she could receive such a beautiful image. There is a very beautiful poem in Chinese: “The fresh and beautiful moon is traveling in the utmost empty sky. When the mind-rivers of living beings are free, that image of the beautiful moon will reflect in each of us.”

This was the mind of the river at that moment. She received the image of that beautiful moon within her heart, and water, clouds, and moon took each other’s hands and practiced walking meditation slowly, slowly to the ocean.

There is nothing to chase after. We can go back to ourselves, enjoy our breathing, our smiling, ourselves, and our beautiful environment.

Forest

May 1 - Krasnoyarsk, Russia
Journal Entry 14 - "Forest"


There is not much time left. Everyday i am reborn, forced to make a new oath to my surroundings. I will not move without purpose, or act without faith. I know that people can fly. I know that pure intentions hold as much magic as a unicorn.


You are born today
to set sail the prairie.

It is our birthday
you are there because you are around
it will be the best day of our lives,
it will be the end of it all.

There will be fire,
There will be tears.

We will be scared,
But we will be together.
We will not be prepared,
But we will have faith.

We will be the ones with our hands raised to the sky.

It will be the end of the world,
It will be the beginning of it all.

Don't let ignorance help you ignore your circumstance.
Don't be stubborn.

What is sober judgement?
What is unbelief?
What is undying faith?
What's a prophecy?
What has been done?
What have we done to ourselves?

We were born today to set sail the prarie.

It will be the end of the world,
It will be the birth of it all.


My time is closing. My watch has worn thin. My mind is filled. In dreams i will wait. I will wait patiently to be carried away, back to sea. I will wait patiently for a new state of mind. I will be humble, and dream of horses galloping upon the sea.


THE END

Clockwork

April 13 - Datong, China
Journal Entry 13 - "Clockwork"

Looking up at the sky, I am becoming certain that God is real. There is too much happening between the spaces. The space between our heads and hearts.


Your boundaries would have you thinking in segments,
does it hurt to pose the question, segments of what?
When you have pieces of something
there must be a whole of which the pieces are a part.

They say wait for such and such an event to happen.
Call their bluff.

There is not much time left.
There is not enought ime left to be making these kinds of predictions.
There is no basis for these worldly hopes
Are you happy where you are at?
Keep telling yourself that.

After all the end is the beginning my friend.

There are a million points of view,
and a billion conversations,
but there is only one end,
it will end in one day,
There's one reason.

We live in three dimensions
but we exist in four, not three.

So sit back, relax, and grab a cocktail.
Grab a drink.


I am going to leave China and head into the forests of Russia.

Mercury

March 6 - X'ian, China
Journal Entry 12 - "Mercury"


I have encountered many people in recent days. Conversation can be an interesting chess game. A tongue with good intentions might be a rarity these days....


Sometimes we talk, we talk oh so much,
Sometimes we talk, we talk so damn much
that we forget why we ever started talking
in the first place.

In a land of pirates i'd be more concerned
with what comes from your mouth than what you put in,
so flood your deck with quips fit for royalty,
i bet your ship sinks with the weight of so many (syllables).

Energy by nature breeds siamese perspectives,
divergent views on the surface underneath connected.

And what a state we're in when we can't forgive anyone
for the same mistakes we've made ourselves a million times before.
We've begun to place the blame on other's tongues.

We have begun to replace wisdom with vanity
and hold others accountable for the condition of our own feet.

There's a battle in a back yard alley,
Brothers fight over what's not there.
These siblings will be sad to find that war is the winner.

We keep fighting for position
in a human race that never began,
where the start and the end are both made of the same thin air.


My map is guiding me toward the Gobi Desert. I will depart in the morning...

Via Rail

January 19th - Quebec, Canada
Journal Entry 10 - "Via Rail"


I can see shadows in the snow. I am beginning to be haunted by voices. There is more to this place than i can see, so i will continue to listen.


There was a bird
who with the absence of words took flight
to the end of the sea and the finish line of the earth.
She perched atop the corner of the world and built three nests.
One of gold, one of silver, and one of clay.
She took a breath, and she let it out.
She took a sigh, then she cried out.

"There is much that i shall bear!
There's a strong wind in the air again."

In the nest of gold she cleansed her coat daily.
In the nest of silver she brought back her food
to save and consume.
In the nest of clay she laid her eggs
and eventually bore children,
and she waited, and waited, and waited, and waited....

On the day the fires came
the nests of gold and silver melted in a
lucid river rushing to the sea
while the nest of clay withstood the heat.
Amen.

The nest of clay was forged into eternity atop the corner of the world,
while the ocean floor was now covered in gold, silver and sand.

So build a house of clay and never, ever, ever, ever underestimate
what the dead can do for the living.
If you listen closely you'll hear the harmony of
every man and woman who has passed away.

But you better believe it's a song for the living.

There's a daunting task ahead
There are snowflakes in our eyes again.
With such a strong chill in the air
Can you tell me, tonight where will we lay our heads to sleep?

Just sleep.



I will travel via rail, then take to the sky. I plan on landing in Jerusalem, and traveling by caravan to India.

Snowflakes

Dec 22 - Reykjavik, Iceland
Journal Entry 9 - "Snowflakes"


I am lost somewhere in the Norwegian sea, praying for the North Atlantic. I shall find my way to land.


There was a man, rich in the world
He said "I have saved my money,
so now i'll buy everything i could want,
then i will lack nothing."
His intentions seemed fair. The same night he died.

There's a drought inside the huiman mind,
and near the end the head expands with iridescent light
that spills into the holes, inside the human heart,
and once it's full the heart explodes and offers us new life.

A body is not a home, free will is not an art
the wind can either help a sail or rip it apart,
show me a cornerstone, it will be the stone
that others cast away and have since deemed unfit,
we're not as much a part of earth as we see fit.

Human experience can be a misleading guide to
(the true nature of things)
shadows our humanistic view.


I will depart southwest on the Atlantic and travel through the strait of Belle Isle. I plan to make my way down the St. Lawrence River.....

Winter Solstice

December 21st - Tromso, Norway
Journal Entry 8 - "Winter Solstice"

The nights are beginning to grow rather cold. I find my mind drifiting in the daytime and overcome at nightfall....


I am becoming ever more aware
in this hundred odd day of salty air.
Winter is peeking in through the sky
to defeat, for a while, my tepid smile.

In the eventide i have cried alone
as this pig pond feels less like a home
than any place i've ever been
my life defined by the wind.

Oh what a state i am in.


Winter is a time for reflection, and with a new wind approaching, i can sense patterns in the wind.