portrait by Joan Baez

Learning of David Crosby’s death the other day, I was blown away at how much it affected me inside. It was surprising.

As much as I loved the Beatles and Mick and the Stones when I was a teenager…I also loved the Byrds and - a few years later - Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young.  

This was the soundtrack of my life in high school and college and for most of us I would imagine. Woodstock (no Beatles, no Stones) defined the era and stands at the apex of things in many ways.  

Crosby along with Joni Mitchell and Bob Dylan seemed to write the most intelligent lyrics of the time and helped keep us moving toward something better.  

A more loving and accepting world ….a bit of hippie altruism but I loved it.  

Love songs, trippy songs, protest songs, prescient and transcendent songs voiced with sincerity and heart. They rocked us as well as quieted us and helped us see ourselves in new and beautiful ways.

I simply loved the music and I have many happy memories of time and place and friends and beauty and fun and laughter and love whenever I listen again.

I’m still an altruist. Still a dreamer. Still a lover. And many an experience has carved its image upon my spirit over the years.  

I’m still in love with the world. Even through heartache, loss, disappointment and pain which comes to all of us. I’m still a lover of life.  

I still believe in peace, love and a better world thanks in many ways to David Crosby, his gift of lyrics and his influence on music. His sense of destiny and his gift of harmony he so freely shared with all of us. 

I bow deeply to this troubadour of our times. And I will carry on.

1968

Carry On CSNY

surface consciousness

 Fujifilm X-30 Mirrorless (digital w/filter)

From time to time, like a loon, I dive down into unconsciousness to root around for Truth.  I surface, with barely a nibble.  Again and again, undeterred, lifetime after lifetime, this ancient game of hide-and-seek plays out, driven by divine guidance and discontent.  Restless and tired I dive again, undeterred, trusting myself.  Somehow knowing I will find God.

The Farm

Spring 2020, Digital

I am circling around God, around the ancient tower,

and I have been circling for a thousand years,

and I still don't know if I am a falcon, or a storm or a great song. 
- Rainer Maria Rilke, translated by Robert Bly

******

JULY 14, 2020

JUNE 30, 2020

We could use some rain / maybe early tomorrow morning / everything is thirsty.  I pray for pears.  And apples and berries.  For corn and beans and squash.  And for everyone.  I will pray for rain, peaceful transitions and hope for those who have fear.  Cleansing, steady rain.  I will pray for that rain and for the sweetness of pears.

Pear Sweetness

JUNE 24, 2020

Only the first season for some of these berries and I am surprised and pleased to see the fruit.  Corn is up.  Beans and peas are up.  Late, but flourishing with love.  Abundance all around.

JUNE 6, 2020

hard outside working
dinner soon both hands washing
soap to my elbows

basho berries

JUNE 5, 2020

Evening light.  Solace.

JUNE 1, 2020

A most beautiful day.  Colors, fresh air, sunshine.

MAY 31, 2020

Everything peeping up green and growing after rain and humidity.  And, finally, sunshine!

KooKoo

May 25, 2020

Still wet - but we planted several rows of seeds.  Eggplant, lima beans, green beans, bush beans.  Corn.  Swiss chard, spinach and radish.  All heirloom seeds in short rows.

Timeless

May 19-22, 2020

Rain.  Big rain, about 9 inches here and up to 13 inches nearby.  Power to the house had to be repaired by the power company (broken neutral in the overhead supply line).  Without heat for a day or two but happy everything is back in operation.  Sump pump did its job and everything else held together.  Humid and warm with thunderstorms coming.  Now to finish planting in the big garden.  Always a calm after the storm.  And calm is a welcome friend.

Dutch Iris

May 18, 2020

It rained today.  All day. Gently.  Easily.  And the soil was soaked but not muddy.  I have potatoes in.  And corn, beans and peas.  I have raspberry bushes and a strawberry patch started.  I am delighted with small beginnings.  This life comes easy to me.  Apple and pear trees.

To Everything There is a Season

May 15, 2020

Planted potatoes in the big garden.  Kitchen compost and dry leaves.  I learned this method a long time ago.

Werk

May 4, 2020

May 3, 2020

Planted corn and beans in the big garden.  And peas.  Planted raspberries and strawberries in the big garden.  I plan for figs and plum trees and a crabapple tree.  Mulch, compost and dirt.  And love.  Always love.

Beautiful Boy

April 29, 2020

Getting started.

April 21, 2020

'Big Garden" plowed and tilled.  Exciting to watch.  Timeless and rich and real.

March 26, 2020

Pears and apple trees in blossom.  Fragile beauty.  I brought the trees to the farm in May of 2019.  Starting a small orchard which I hope will thrive.

*********

Giovanni and Serafina Satta - to Whom This Farm is Dedicated

Gracias a la Vida

~

Truth

"There is Paramatma. He is all-existing. All atmas (souls) are in Paramatma. All atmas are Paramatma. When an atma apparently comes out of Paramatma, it is the jivatma (individual embodied soul) and begins to gain consciousness of falseness. For the jivatma to become One with Shivatma (God, the Supreme Soul) is the goal. After passing through the process of evolution, reincarnation and involution, the jivatma eventually becomes Shivatma and remains so eternally."

Meher Baba

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A Road Trip is Good for a Man's Soul

digital

somewhere in Utah

2007

I was nineteen when I jumped into a van with my buddy Leon and drove three days to Mardi Gras.  We ate oranges and popcorn, saving our money for Bourbon Street.  This torpedoed my budding college career but began my journey inward.  That trip took us far beyond New Orleans - to central Texas, through New Mexico and on to Tucson, Arizona.  What I experienced riding those many miles kindled within me a passion for adventure and the sense of excitement that comes from being on the open road.

As we drove for hours on end I gazed at the vastness of Texas and experienced the harsh beauty of the desert southwest.  I soaked in the  smell of creosote bushes after a rainstorm and poked at all kinds of cactus as I came to love the land of Edward Abbey.  This adventure changed me, and after driving many thousands of American highway miles since, I have come to believe that a road trip is good for a man's soul.

Crossing the swirling, muddy waters of the Mississippi River or peering into Grand Canyon gave me perspective and brought home to me the fleeting nature of human life.  Various road trips have taken me past dismal shacks in the sharecropper south and centuries-old, stacked-stone fence rows in New England.  I have driven past cemeteries and great railroad yards.  I stopped to capture photographs along the way.  I took all this in and somehow, without any conscious effort on my part, these images imprinted themselves on my being as if onto a photographic plate.

Over the years I have sensed subtle changes within me showing up in unexpected circumstances.  A kind word at the dinner table emerges or a simple act of courtesy occurs in rush hour traffic.  I don't intend for this.  I find myself acting without thinking.  I am a better listener.  I notice a fresh reserve of patience.  And these are good things.

What happens when I watch the mesmerizing lights of a city in the distant darkness?  How or why does that change me?  Tiny nameless towns cross my windshield.  Trucks and cotton fields roll by.  Kerouac and Steinbeck ride with me as I measure myself against mountains.  Driving alone, my mind untangles problems and rehearses funny stories to tell my children.  Like watching a foreign film my senses strain to take it all in.

Is this a modern-day version of the mythical journey?  Instead of mounting a horse and donning knight's armor I throw my stuff into the back of a Chevy pickup, fiddle with the radio and try to remember if I grabbed my wallet.  Not a noble quest in the classic sense, but it sure is fun.

I've seen bloated cattle and bald eagles.  I've seen rainstorms, tumbleweeds and the cats at Hemingway's villa.  Of course it is good to come home to the routine of everyday life.  These occasional trips only punctuate my real life as householder, husband and father.  Yet, all this rests within me.  I somehow gain the ability to do dishes without resentment.  My rigid ego is ground down over time and I become a bit more loving, a bit more accepting of others.

The purpose of life is inner transformation, I believe, and a road trip is good for my soul.  So when I get a call from my travelling partners and begin to plan a new adventure, I grin.  It's time to pack a bag and drag out the cooler.  Fill the tank and adjust the mirrors.  We got us an expedition.  I got me a road trip.

+++++

that long, lonesome highway

Paint it Black

“Is anyone else wondering if all the moral indignation and outrage we're feeling, supposed to feel, 

and click in response to others' feeling is spreading us out a bit thin?”

L. Sharapan, FB, October 2017

 UV Photography, D. Kokdemir

We were sunk the moment the grassy knoll lit up with carbine fire, grasshopper.  We threw a parade, remember?

We’ve seen this all before.  And we cried.  Many of us died.  We’ve been through collective disbelief and self-doubt and horror-turned-to-outrage on a grand scale.  Fifty short years ago, from Vietnam to Kent State, Bobby and Martin and Malcom to Watts, Newark and Detroit - with many conflagrations in between - we’ve seen and felt the bitter fruits of ignorance and injustice.

(I’m trying hard not to sermonize...)

Once again the head of the beast now being raised is truly ugly.

I’m finished gathering data points and yes, I am wearing thin.  I don’t need to torture myself - wondering if this is actually happening (Puerto Rico was the final act for me, not that I had doubts before that).  I can only try to stay awake and point to where hope may be found.

We peered into the abyss back then and somehow found the hope and courage to resist and continue on through the work, words and music of artists, activists, monks, intellectuals and everyday heros - many of whom are still with us.

(...and I sure don’t want to romanticize.)

Today the darkness seems thick(er) and black(er).  We need both old and new voices more than ever.  It stinks that we don’t have Lennon or Ginsburg or Carlin around.  It stinks that things seem so fragmented and diffused even as we are able to span the globe in real time with a few mouse clicks.

One avenue is to find our own voice - our own indignation - and live it large.  We can channel our own Timothy Leary or Dick Gregory or Nina Simone.  I’m certain that today’s way-showers and visionaries will appear in this drama, too.

Another way is to be silent, go within and gather energy for good intent whatever one’s station in life.  Cultivate love - tap into the Source - give it away fearlessly, heedlessly.  It's all designed to blow your mind, anyway, as the song goes.

Be love to your neighbors.  Refuse to hate.  Refuse to live in fear.  Be warriors against ignorance and may our hearts be refuge one for another.  Try to sit loose in the saddle sisters and brothers - it's going to be a long ride.

(The intent is to harmonize.)

digital / slightly rendered / fall 2017

+++++++

Forest Fire

"Take what comes.  Be contented and cheerful.  Never worry.  

Not a leaf moves, but by His consent and will."  

-Sai Baba of Shirdi

the other day i woke to learn of a forest fire burning close to where we live in western north carolina.  

today i learned the results of the us election.

it is burning large parts of my very favorite hiking and climbing area.  concern and a certain sadness flooded my heart as i realized that this beautiful wild area would be changed dramatically for the immediate future and scarred for some time to come.

many of my fellow citizens find themselves in a precarious state.  civil rights, economic opportunity and cherished liberties stand to be curtailed.  we all may be scarred for some time to come.

yet i know that forest fires can have a cleansing and cauterizing effect and often are necessary in the grand scheme of things, making way for fresh life and new possibilities.

yet i know that for every time there is a season, and the resiliency of the human heart and the generosity and goodness of the american people offer hope and new possibilities for all of us.

this does not take away my sadness, however, since my limited mind wants things to be otherwise.  

this does not take away my sadness this morning, since my limited mind wants things to be otherwise.  

a degree of acceptance will eventually settle in.  i know and trust this process.

and i look forward to hiking that terrain soon with new eyes and a deeper appreciation for the beauty, strength and temporal immutability of the rock, the forest and the vast array of living things which make this area home.

this day, as rains come to quench the forest fire, i resolve to be more kind and appreciative as i enter this new/old world.

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