Posts Tagged ‘serpent’

Twice in two weeks a snake has crossed my path in the woods. Barefoot the first time, a friend stopped me in my tracks with her terror. The snake froze in its sensuous curve, licking an invisible popsicle of self-defense. I guided my friend gently around a wide-berth circumference. The creature’s eyes and matched tongue never left our forms until we’d retreated far enough as to dim the energetic intrusion.

Two days ago the same slithery beast crept over the naked skin of my topfeet on another trail, a mountain a couple of miles away. This one also lapped it’s tongue, careful to maintain its  stiffened-stream posture. A companion caught the S by a grip on the tail, and I balked as he stretched his lean body in opposition,      fighting against entrapment, wrongful intrusion, bodily touch minus permission or ability to say. I sensed a vengeance, the serpent’s want to retaliate, and led our retreat out of respect for its lack of understandable words. Perhaps I was projecting myself onto this snake. It seemed so clear to me that catching it by it’s tail, preventing it from slithering as far as it pleased and in any direction, was an unwanted imposition and unfair, despite any just motives of the captor. Captors often believe their motives are just, after all.

The woods are alive. Clicking, tick-tocking their own non-clock time. No time at all, but mystical force. Time as measured only by seasons in ceremonial growth and decay.

How exciting, out here in the dark. The sky a puddle cauldron in some distance and smell of fire tugging the intuition of my nostril fur. Sweet, sweet blossoms beginning their perfume,

a time of creation. A time of Love. And how giddily mysterious, these trees in the dark. At their feet all kinds of cricking and cracking. Creaking branches with moaning blades of grass. Taken away one sense, I mistake not to know what lies there around me. What insects? What fauna? What eaters and shitters and pollinators lie or frolic there? Which lurk on prey, which dig, which forage or shiver or lackadaisically lay about in stretched leg-leaf-tentacle heaven? Only hearing them should be enough. Only feeling them. Only imagining them shall be enough for a sage.     My testines urge me: defecate there, on deadened foliage! Joining refuse-life-refuse-heat-smell-scintillation-food-life-refuse. Like some mother mushroom spreading football-length miles below, vast pulsing fungal matrimony; bleeding manure spore-gy. MMm, the delightful attraction to become weird. SPOntaneous REgeneration ! and what color-trails assist.       ssssss

The water here tastes purely toileted, surely poison. Lace of some technical attribute; its atoms altered to manmade algorithms and replacing words like “bless.” “Joy.” I’ve not been drinking it. I can’t discover what’s worse – dehydrating myself or drinking water designed to shape me into a compliant drone.

Chemicals penetrate my skin four-days weekly, anyhow. The dishroom stinks my clothes like body odor never has, and in what short time! Like coal in the mountains, remove the epidermis for some compact layer of iodine now lurking underneath. The sake of health! Cleanliness! Of course. It’s code.

I notice how intricately linked the weather is with emotion here. I have begun to pick up on the vibrations of words and thought. The moment someone speaks an idea about someone else, my view of that person (the speakee) is changed. Even if I don’t agree with the observation. Every single thing any person, any consciousness, chooses to inject into the atmosphere changes it somehow. The way words are spoken makes something new. Each decision, every thought.. all of these are comingling energies working to perpetually create reality. We have a duty to control them. We have a duty to make them healthy, bright, reverent of love, constructive, truthful. Infused with honor. I recognize how much easier it is to maintain a pleasant state of mind when surrounded by people (sometimes unconsciously!) committed to interacting peacefully and constructively with one another. Though is it easier to connect with myself? In some ways, yes, for I am allowed the freedom to express myself here any way that I want. All social norms are cast aside, save for those which protect mutual honor and respect. The outer-work is done, then. This allows me more energy to spend on cultivating my inner-means of security. In this I am not convinced I’m making progress. Old habits, trip-ups, fall-backs. It’s about becoming mindful – making sure I can and making sure I do.

Earlier today I thought to myself, This place is making me a better person. I am improving. I become more good every day. This place makes me more what he wants me to be (more my pure self). But surely these characters will ebb away once removed from these purest surroundings?

I must solidify those thoughts (of assuredness, benevolence) and continue them despite temptation to trade them for easier ones. Yoga has taught me that when you believe you are strong, you are strong. When you think of yourself as divine, certainly you become divine.

In the past 10 weeks, folks have been praising my laugh, my yoga practice, and my dancing constantly in all means and perfections. It’s like it’s easier, here, to spy another’s essence, and even more convenient to acknowledge it aloud and share in the joy of cultivating spirit. To be validated.

appreciation can come from anywhere

it seems that the hunger, sparked from true cosmic connection, is more unique

my cave so confusedly wishes to be filled. At least some of the time.

the hollow want of someone yawning open

far far away

he’s swallowing i’m drinking air – we are apart and im drinking only air.

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