Victoria, BC #7

I guess it's ironic
That I did all that writing yesterday
About no longer wanting to write
Posted it on a blog I declare
A pointless waste of time
Spent hours editing it
After extolling the virtues of
Pure
Unadulterated
Expression
Then wrote emails
Then sat all day on this computer
Then thought about books I wanted to publish
Feeling liberated by the knowledge
That I no longer had to
But more than that -
Change comes slowly
In the beginning, there is the feeling
Then the thought
And then the word
I may know what I want to do
Or at least have an inkling
But it takes time
To make it real
It's two years since I first admitted
That I was afraid of love
Exactly twelve months ago
That I first deleted this blog
And abandoned journalling
For all of ten weeks
Five months since
I really did stop it
Though here I am again
And pretty much exactly four years ago
That I fasted a week at the hot springs
And knew in the depths of my heart
That what I need is a wife
It occurred to me many years ago
That life has its own gestation periods
Quite often, actually,
Somewhere around nine months
Between time of conception
And its popping into the world
Still
I'm feeling a little like...
I'm stuffing the baby back up the chute
Holding it in
Prolonging the labour
Pretending it's never been born
I'm feeling like I need to break free
But can't
Forever stumbling into the past
And submitting to habits
Habits unfortunately not quite as damaging
As taking drugs
Getting drunk
Crashing cars
Gentle habits
But destructive nonetheless
How about some
New Year's resolutions
Evolutions
Ideals
Or at least suggestions?

1. I will delete this blog.
2. I will just talk instead.
3. Or at least handwrite and type just for myself, and not as a way of avoiding talking about something, but as a means of aiding expression, and getting down to the heart of the matter
4. I shall stop endlessly looking back on things previously written. Get it out of me and then move on. File it away if necessary. But maybe just "burn it", like the Bibles of yesterday's monk (I shudder).
5. I shall try to forget about writing books, and just live instead. And if Life directs me to writing books, I shall give it a go.
6. I will stop sending emails to people from the past. I often want to quit, and I get annoyed with how much I'm invested in that and when I have a backlog. But, truth is, it's mainly people just responding to me anyway. I so admire people who don't exist online. I know one person who has basically no online presence. I bet their life is lacking nothing.
7. I will quit facebook again and stay quitted. I will use emailing people just for purposes of arranging meetups, etc.
8. I will try to use the telephone more. I'm always saying that. But never actually doing it.
9. In a nutshell, trying to get back to how life was before the blasted internet. It was good back then. Things moved forward. Flowed naturally. Never really harked back. I liked it. It's my fault it's difficult now to be like that. The internet is too powerful for me. Too stimulating. There's always something going on. But as my time in Exeter and Mexico and Greece proved, it's just not as healthy as life in the outside world. I want to break away. Keep it merely for football results and plane tickets. I wonder if I can. Not easy.
10. I want to give myself to love. To not run away from it. To find someone who can deal with my madness, my vulnerability, my complexities - as well as all the good things I have to offer. To find that person and then stick to them like glue. Not in a smothering way, but in a sense of true commitment. I'm ready for that.
11. I want to work a good job. Be productive. Help others. And go home to a happy situation. Many years ago I decided "life is what you go home to." A difficult job can be tolerated by what's waiting for you at the end of the day. And a wonderful job can still seem empty if it excludes sharing your life with somebody you love.
12. I want to work my way up the football referee ladder.
13. I want to find a place to call home.
14. I want to be in a position where the making of one or two little people is not only possible but likely and even inevitable.
15. I want to overcome my inability to feel wanted and loved.
16. I want to stop looking at pictures of and reading about celebrities.

I guess the main thing is:
I want to quit the internet
Woohoo!
I'll betcha that's easier said than done
I've certainly said it before
But then what if I just tossed a coin?
"Heads, I shall completely obliterate this blog
By the end of the year"
I toss the coin
And heads it is
"Heads, I shall close my email accounts"
And this time it's tails
"Heads, I'll close my Skype account"
Heads
(I only ever used it with one person anyway)

And then I went and spent two silly hours
Trying to remove my presence
From dozens of years-old
Forums and arcade sites
Reading words like:
"Last login: April 10th 2003"

Victoria, BC #5

I've come to Victoria
Ostensibly to write
But what I've realised is
Writing to publish
Striving to craft
Is a
Hateful
Objectionable
Destructive
Use of my time
I like
Pure flow expression
For personal growth
The rest of it?
Fuck it.

I thought the whole reason I came to Canada
Was to knuckle down and work
Write some books
Expunge long-cherished ideas
But really I came
To fall in love
To find a new way of life
Love is more important than writing
Happiness is more important than recognition
I would rather dig holes
And go home to somebody's warm arms
Than slave away on this computer
For such little reward.

How did it come to this?
Why do I try?
Wherefore the roots
Of this compulsion to write?
Well once upon a time
I wrote an online journal
It was therapy
Helped me heal
Allowed exploration of unseemly parts
That were accepted by others
I enjoyed the expression
And then I went on
To live an interesting life
Which others enjoyed reading about
Then came the leap:
You should write a book, they said
You should get published
You can change the world
Get rich
Find fame
We make this leap all the time
With musicians
With artists
With understandings
With feelings
But why do we seek to take something so pure
Something so natural
And concretise it
In a shape
That conforms to the world?
Habit, I guess
The way the mind slots into grooves
Follows well-trod paths
All those people saying
"You should write a book"
Thinking they're giving encouragement
Really they're placing a curse
Planting a seed
For a weed
That grows enormous
Dragging me in its spiny tendrils
To places I don't want to go.

This blog...
It's been a long time
Since it was therapy
And I suppose I continue it
Out of habit and compulsion
The joy of typing
And an unwillingness to
Let go
Not recognising
Things have long since changed
Does any good come of it?
Has it helped anyone in a real way?
I feel embarrassed when I think
Of the hours I've spent
In self-absorbed typing
And contrast it with people
Who do good in the world.

Likewise, my book
The urge to publish it
Placed like a bug in my brain
Fed by dreams of
Inspiration and change
Never having to worry about money again
Thinking
Because I'd found BLISS
- Incontrovertible evidence! -
Everyone one else would too
Such young, foolish delusions
Dreams I've dedicated years to
But - dig this:
It's out there and
It hasn't changed the world
Nobody cares
People read it and move on
Soon forget what's in there
And there are already a thousand books
Saying the same kind of things
And more advanced things than mine
I discovered one of them recently:
Michael Crichton's 'Travels'
He's a scientist and doctor
A successful and respected writer
He reports spiritual experiences
Impossible to deny
And yet
Denied they are
So where does that leave me?

I don't want to write
I don't want to waste my time
I don't want to be on this computer
Always wishing
For someone to discover me
I want to be in love
Learning about love
Living a simple life
Feeling happy and content
I know that works
And yet still I return
To these old ideas
About writing and words.

Two interesting things happened yesterday
The first was on a walk to a park
Where I climbed a nice tree
Sat in its branches
And pondered
I was emotional and fraught
At a loss with my urge
To abandon this writing
Plus having overdosed recently
On the great drug called LOVE
I hugged the tree
And thought of times trees had spoken
I said to the tree
"Oh, what shall I do?"
And the tree said
"This is your new life"
And I felt it.

The second was in a thrift store
Where I read a short story
About a monk on retreat
He forgot to bring his Bible
And the guestmaster said
"Why not write your own?"
He did, and it was useful
And then at the end of the year
The guestmaster suggested
Tossing it in the fire
Along with his journal
A whole year's wisdom and labour
Gone up in flames
When I read this
I suddenly burst into tears
Tears out of nowhere
Tears, I want to say,
I know not why
But I do.

Back in 2009
I lost a notebook containing
Many thousands of words
Of emotions and realisations
After briefly mourning
I saw quite clearly
That the greatest tragedy was not the loss of the words
Already expressed
But the loss of the blank pages
Never to be expressed on
It's true!
The pages were not for
Preserving
They were for
Unburdening
After losing that journal
I continued to write
But no longer thought about keeping
Everything was discarded
Sometimes immediately
And I missed it not.

Am I making my point?
And
More to the point
Am I picking up on it?
Acting on it myself?
It's hard
To break away
From such a
Long held
Compulsion
Especially with the weight of the world
Well-meaning friends
And my mind's own desires
Driving me along
To the edge of the cliff
But is it too late to
Change track
Step aside
And watch
The mad streaming juggernaut
Pass me by
And
Leave me free
Ready to walk
In a whole new direction?
What good came from
Facebook
This blog
My book
All those emails?
What
Return on Investment
For the thousands of hours?

The tree whispers
The mind wonders
The heart knows
But does the body act?
Ay: there's the rub
To force the body
To follow the feeling
To leave the known
To put a torch to the past
There's the faith
Faith in the face of the world
In the face of one's friends
In the face of one's dreams.

Canadian supermarkets

Fuck Canadian supermarkets!
Walking through their doors
Is like entering some
Parallel
Surreal
Universe
Like asking a man in a corner shop
For a can of coke
And the man says
That'll be eight thousand pounds please
Like those crazy strip joints in London
Where strippers dupe you into glasses of champagne
That cost more than they do
(Never happened to me)
I'm pissed man!
All those years in England
Honing my shopping skills
Getting my routine down
My
System
Home Bargains for ninety-nine pee
Eggs (free range; six; large)
Pesto (Bertolli, mind)
Jars of Patak's curry sauce
Four-packs of lovely triple-ply toilet roll
Two hundred and fifty gram
Bags of figs
And then skip on over to Morrison's
For a five hundred gram bag of dates
One pound twenty-nine
(Seventy-nine pee in Home Bargains
Though not as good)
A loaf of Burgen's
Often but a quid
A lovely block of mature cheddar
With nothing weird added
Three hundred and fifty grams
For one pound eighty
(That's not the cheapest, mind
But one must buy good cheese)
And pizza
And veggie sausages
And lentils
And all the other things I buy
(There are probably other things)
And now it's like
All of a sudden
Some fucker's gone and changed the rules
Placed numbers next to products that
Do
Not
Belong
Six dollars
For a dozen eggs?
Five bucks
For a jar of cooking sauce?
Four dollars
For a loaf of bread?
I had it down, man!
But the rug's been pulled
And the cheese is not only
Crazy Martian prices
But a crazy Martian colour too
It bounces when you drop it
You sink your teeth into
Spongy
Rubber
Plasticine
No flavour
No resemblance
To cheese
To food
To anything of this world
And nobody bats an eyelid
I'm -

I'm cross about other things, I guess
I need a victim to take it out on
The prices here are mental
But people I respect
If I ever dared tell them
Would only say pertinent things like
"Shut the fuck up, Rory"
And
"If you don't like it
You can always go home"
And
"Anyway, isn't it a small price to pay
For all the awesome things you get
By being here?"

I'm sorry
You're right
I just struggle sometimes
I'd be the same in Switzerland or Japan
It's just taking my brain a little while to adjust is all
Well I've whooped it up in places like India
Now we get
The balance
I just wish I had appreciated more
That I lived in the greatest supermarket nation on Earth
Kissed the Kettle Chips that cost eighty-nine pee
Hugged tight tubs of margarine
That are always half-price
And wept with gratitude
To see men on market stalls
Selling enormous bags of
Bananas
Satsumas
Aubergines
Courgettes
For one pound
One pound
Everything's always one pound
I bet even maple syrup's
Cheaper in England
I -
No
I'm wrong
I just checked
It's not
Woohoo!
I think I've found some thing
Some reason
To live on



(The above 'poem' is written with tongue firmly in cheek. As if I'm really that anal and uptight and grumpy. As if.)

Victoria, BC

And now I'm in BC
Back with wonderful Eric
Eric of Christmas 2001
Christmas 2009
Eric the actual genuine published writer
Eric with a spare apartment he says I can stay in
To give some time to writing
To have long chats about everything
To eat and walk his dog
To -
I left Saskatoon Saturday morning
Took a semi-spontaneous flight
Rolling a dice right there in front of the check-in girl
And the dice said "buy"
Was weird to splash so much cash
On such a short flight
To skip out on the Rockies
To abandon the thumb
But perhaps it's time for a different way of living
Inspired by abundance
By thoughts of Charlie Chaplin
On the eve of his big break
And one or two other things besides
The love, by the way
Didn't die
Far from it
But I don't write about that stuff here anymore
Save it for elsewhere
I only write -
Well, what do I write?
I write
What happened
Where I am
I'm in Victoria, BC
I'm here with Eric
I'm here to
Write
That's the nuts and bolts of it
The long and short
The -
And now, ladies and gentlemen
My greatest fear
I've talked much about trembling
Trembling before random journeys into the unknown
Leaving behind safe good life
Flying on a feeling
But all that is nothing compared to the
Crippling
Overwhelming
Heart-breaking fear
When I contemplate WORDS
This is what I wanted
This is what I set myself up for
This is what is now available
The space
The time
The perfect environment
No more excuses
It makes me want to punch the wall
Beat my head
Collapse in tears
It's time to
Put up or shut up
But -
Offer me a chance
And I will quite happily accept the latter
Lord, take this cup away from me!
That sort of thing
The feeling is strong
But maybe it's just a trembling like all the others
A trembling that precedes
Quite happily doing it
Succeeding
And entering into a whole new sphere of existence
Or not
Fact is
I'm here
I've got what I need
I just need to start typing
And see what comes
If nothing else
Well at least I tried
And I can't say it hasn't brought me
Many other wonderful things
Four years ago
I sat in the hot springs in Mexico
And KNEW
What I wanted
And what I wanted was
A partner to love
And to write words on a computer
But
Love
Comes
First
Everything else is a bonus
Anyways
Shall we just crack on?
See y'all out the other side...

Saskatoon, SK

I arrived in Saskatoon late last night
After hitching the two thousand miles from Guelph
Snow covering every inch
Standing there sometimes
In minus fourteen
Peeing one morning
Barefoot and shirtless
In minus twenty-two
It was awesome
I'd thought of it as my greatest challenge
My biggest test of faith
In all these years on the road
Stretching right back to
USA '98
When I first realised
Some perfect
Beneficial
Groovy
Force
Operated in my life
The force that took me down to Mexico
The force that transported me
Penniless
Kept me sheltered and fed
Through thousands of miles of
North America
Europe
India
Etcetera
But this seemed different
Canada in the winter time!
Perils of
Actual death
Not just hunger
Sleeping out
Maybe getting wet
This was real
What to do
For example
When night falls
The temperature's twenty below
I've been deposited in the middle of
The vast Ontario wilderness
And freezing and frostbite and -
Well, in any case
I made it
It all worked out good
I was offered a place
Each day and night
Never spent a penny
Even though I wanted to
The magic is unbelievable
God loves a foolhardy fool
But I suppose what you're really wondering is
Exactly how did it work out?
Well I'll tell you
But first we'll have to rewind
Right back to Guelph
Right back to last Wednesday
Right back to me thinking
It's time to move on
And then wondering how
And checking planes and buses and trains
And just thinking
Fuck it
I can't be arsed with this
The thought of hitching terrified me
But I knew it had to be done
I did my trembling thing
The trembling subsided
And then I just got on with it
Well do I trust or not?
Or does God only work His magic
In sunny climes
On snowless ground?
No
Of course not
The God in my head isn't quite so limited as that
So I guess I had to prove it
Marching daftly to the highway in Guelph
Holding up a sign for "BC! Please"
And pretty soon got a ride
Straight to the front door of some friends' house
In Burlington
Good start!
The magic still works!
And confidence is instilled
One night there talking crazy Yorkshire talk
(Everyone was from Yorkshire)
And then after being deposited at a truck stop north of Toronto
The hitch began in earnest
It was cold and I shivered
It was six degrees ABOVE zero
Yowzers
I knew substantially lower temperatures were ahead
And I was nowhere near equipped
Oh well
The eccentric Englishman
Who plans in retrospect
Knows it always works out
And it did
Like I said
My final ride the first day
(After slight detour from expected highway
Thinking go with the flow)
Offers me dinner and a bed
And a day out the next day
Taking a boat to an island in Georgian Bay
Plus dinner and a bed
The following two nights as well
Gives me a great groovy hat
A big red warm coat
Some wool socks
And warm mitts
I do some healing
We chat all spiritual stuff
It's awesome
And then I'm on the road again
Sunday morning
Minus fourteen
A long cold wait
Everything white and beautiful
Loving the madness of it all
Loving my crazy new hat
With flaps over the ears
Get diverted again
But trust
And once more
Just before dark
A man takes me north from North Bay
Asks me if I want to watch the game
(The CFL final)
Stay at his
Shoot some pool
On the table in his basement
Andy the forest fire fighter
He's a great and groovy guy
He feeds me up
Sends me on my way
Says
Come back if it don't work out
If you're getting cold
But like every day
I get picked up quick
And I'm on the road again
Left this time really in the middle of nowhere
Have to walk a couple of miles
Tromp tromping in the falling snow
Whooping for the quiet of it
The solitude
And then get picked up by a crazy Christian
Who tells me he had to pick me up
Cos someone was trying to kill me
Did I know who that someone was?
Yes
That's right
Satan
Phew
I thought for a moment
It was someone real
But Satan I can deal with
So I settled down and let him 'minister' to me
Non-stop
For like forty-five minutes
And smiled inside thinking
Wow
He'd probably be doing the same if he had Jesus in his truck
And felt good that I
Never once tried to debate him
Nor point out his flaws
Just let it all wash over me
A non-reactive antidote
To all the arguments I was having
A few weeks back
And not long after that
A Mennonite picked me up
Offered me a bed
And even though it was early in the day
I thought
Why not?
It's not every day you get to spend time with a family of Mennonites
Say yes to everything, right?
Especially on a trip like this
So I slept in the loft above his cows
Dug him a trench
Tossing off layers
Right there in the cold
Met his wife and 7.5 children
(He was a year younger than me)
Ate Mennonite potatoes
Even ate Mennonite apple pie
And answered questions about the outside world
Answers which were apparently "very interesting"
This was near Englehart
I was going nowhere fast
It was about then that I looked at a map of Canada
And saw just how insane it was to attempt to hitch it
In the middle of winter
On these crazy Ontario roads
They'd told me so but -
It's all folly to an Englishman's ears
Who can contemplate a provincial slice of a country
That in itself takes twenty-four solid hours of driving to get across?
I'd travelled less than three hundred and fifty miles
I'd been on the road five days
Seen pretty much nothing but snow
And trees
Hundreds and hundreds of miles of trees
And not even beautiful trees
Just scraggly
Spindly
Scrawny trees
Standing shivering and ugly
Waiting to one day
Be hacked to the ground
Sawed and pulped
Something about this trip through Canada...
It was like the scales were falling from my eyes
It had always been the promised land
Where life was easy
People were happy
Everything was better than England
I mean
I'd been here eight times
I'd lived here one solid year
I hadn't just based it on movies
Like Bill Barrett and his
Magic America
But I was seeing a different side now
People chained to their work
Everyone divorced
On medication
Wrestling over children
Bitter and
Obsessed with cash
Industries that pulverised nature
The slowly-dawning realisation
That certain pockets of British Columbia
Far from define the whole
Now it was
Rednecks in big trucks
Nice people whose greatest pleasure
Was to shoot little animals in the head
And these endless thousands of miles of
Denuded ugly trees
With no change in sight
Save for
Denuded
Ugly
Prairies
I must be mad
Standing out in this snow, this cold
My socks all wet
My toes going frozen
Nobody stopping
Waiting an hour
On highway 11
Truck after truck
Knowing
Trucks don't stop no more
Their insurance has changed
It's not '98
Nor Colorado
What am I doing here?
In insufferably large Ontario
I'll never get out
And all for -
Yes
Chasing a girl
That old chestnut
High hopes but -
What the fuck
What the fuck am I doing?
It was the one time I thought about turning back
Toronto
England
Something safe
Not the madness of -
I keep on thumbing
That's the voice of doubt
God is good
Everything'll work out
But still -
I genuinely said it
"God help me!"
And within five seconds
A truck pulls over
Winnipeg, Manitoba
Written on the door
(Pronounced win-a-peg, apparently
Not winnie)
And I think
God, I hope he's going there
Or at least far enough to
Thaw out my toes and dry my socks
And he is
And he's happy to take me
We're on our way
Oh Holy Road God!
How can I ever thank Thee?
I've said it again and again
We're rolling and
I figure we'll be in Winnipeg soon
Just sit back and -
We pass a sign saying
Thunder Bay - 733km
And I think
My God!
That's not even out of Ontario
How big is this province
This country?
It's mind boggling but -
That's pretty much it
We drove all day to Ignace
(677 miles)
And after sleeping in bunks
Reached Winnipeg the next afternoon
(287 miles)
Where we were to part
And I was to strike out for Saskatoon
Once so unfathomably far away
Now a mere 500 miles distant
Still, that could be several days
Depending on what happened
But -
Fate is weird huh?
The morning before I'd been thinking of retreat
Thinking another two weeks to get there
Thinking it was all mad craziness
Or that I might still end up in Ottawa
Quebec, somewhere
Sneaking into Vermont
(Surrendered to the road, you see)
And then trucker Ed says
Next load's ready and
Whaddya know?
It's Saskatoon
I'll be there that night
It's all happened crazy fast
Ed trucks on
(He's now done 2400 kilometres in 36 hours)
And we roll into town
Crazily-named Saskatoon
Where I now sit
In the apartment of a girl-slash-woman
I'm seriously in love with
She beautiful
She lovely
She's all those other things and more
And agan I say it:
God bless that crazy Holy Road God
For the wonders He doth produce!
Ah fuckin' men.

Love Poem #9

If you've ever spent any time on Guardian Soulmates
As pretty much every single London-type person has
You'll very quickly realise
It's mainly the same thing
Over and over and over
"Beautiful awesome male
Seeks beautiful awesome female"
"Beautiful awesome female
Seeks beautiful awesome male"
When I realised that it made me want to bang some heads together
Dream up a system not so unlike Reverend Moon's Korean mass weddings
Find some Wise Old Soul
To take these
Beautiful Awesome People
And pair em up
Say
"You and you
You'll be good together
You'll have difficulties
You'll argue
Sure
But in the long run
If you stick at it
I promise you
You'll be good
You'll have fun
You'll love each other loads
You're beautiful and awesome!
Don't you see?
How could it not work out?
And anyway -
I'm wise and know the future and
You've got to trust that"
And then they'd nod
And pair up
And walk off hand in hand
Uncertain
Excited
Resolved to see it through
Just like in the good old days
When people tolerated one another's differences
And realised that being with someone only 98% perfect
Is still better than forever chopping and changing
And seeking things that don't exist
It's arranged marriage, basically
But arranged with an understanding of the two people involved
The Wise Old Soul KNOWING
That they will one day love each other massively
As Beautiful Awesome People
Are inevitably fated to do
If they just give of themselves a little
But, alas, there is no system like that
No Wise Old Soul
And so the singles go on searching
Beautiful Awesome People
Growing ever older
Always wanting somebody
Always people available with whom to make it work
But somehow never getting there
And the question is "why?"
Why in this world of so much choice
Do we so often
Fail to choose?
Shall we blame society?
Blame our freedoms?
Blame Old God Hollywood?
Forever commanding
"Thou shalt be perfect in body, mind and soul
Before thou canst be considered deserving
Of someone who finds you lovable"?
Or maybe blame our fears?
Blame the deep-down fears
That forever keep us searching
Not willing to lay ourselves bare
For instance -
I once met a man
Who wanted love more than anything
But every time it came knocking
He would always reach a stage where he had to admit
He was afraid of it
And the way he'd handle that
Was to decide that his lover was imperfect
And then go looking for another
He even wrote all that on his dating profile
Told the world
"I'm afraid of love
I'm afraid of the vulnerability
I'm afraid to get hurt
To hurt another
To reveal myself
To not be able to fulfill my promises"
"And I'm afraid of women
Of what they'll want from me
Afraid of mortgages and children's college fees
A mean-spirited boss
I'll be forced to work for
To pay for things I myself have realised
Aren't even that useful
But which I feel pressured to provide
For future non-existent children
That I may or may not have
With an unmet future woman
I may or may not meet"
"I just thought I'd better get all these things out front
Before we go on that date
So you know where I'm coming from
So you'll know why I blow hot and cold
Because the more I like you
The closer those things come
And the more I'll want to run away"
I paraphrase, of course
I can't remember exactly what he said
But I liked his honesty
Despite how daft it all sounded
But then it's hard being a single Londoner
In a world ruled over by Old God Hollywood
His pronouncements from up on high
Ringing in their ears
"Thou shalt never find someone to love
If thou aren't flaunting a six-pack!"
"Thou shalt never find someone to love
If thy income isn't enough to buy
A new iPhone for thy four-year-old
Every single year!"
"Thou shalt never find someone to love
If thou hast flaws and fears
And sometimes want to curl up in a ball
Moaning
'I can't do this'
'It's too much'
'I don't know what to do'"
"Thou shan't ever find someone to love
If thou aren't always funny
Don't have all the answers
Can't immediately figure out the way"
But, alas, the men I know
The men from Guardian Soulmates
Those Beautiful Awesome People
Fail to keep these commandments
And thus are doomed
By Old God Hollywood
To forever wander
The cold streets of Singledom
Looking
Searching
Wanting
Pleading
Chopping
Changing
Growing older and...
Alone
All those Beautiful Awesome People of their youth!
And then one day fifty-five
And life will never be the same again
Shame about those fears
That kept them from going for it
Shame about those moments
When they got caught at the crossroads
Of love and uncertainty
Felt their hearts spilling over
Became overwhelmed
By what they thought that meant
Unable to go on
Their fear of committing deeper
Their inability to express those feelings
For their fear of how the other would take it
They got stuck
They couldn't figure out what to do
And they never had the wisdom
To simply tell their other
"I don't know what to do"
Neither the wisdom
Nor the balls
For to do so would be to break the tenth commandment:
"Thou art a man and thou solvest all thy problems by doing things
And not knowing what to do is a sin"
But couldn't they simply say
"Dear God
I don't have all the answers
I only know what I'm feeling
And it's kind of hard for me
Can't I work it out with my other?"
Would that really be so bad?
Or is it too much against
"Thou shalt be easy-going at all times
And take responsibility for the whole world
And keep it all to thyself"?
Old God Hollywood
Thou art good
But sometimes I do feel
You've laid a heavy yoke
On my poor brothers' shoulders
And look where it's got them
No wonder they break the least of Thy commandments:
"Thou shalt not settle for second best
For to do so would be to avoid LOVE and GROWTH
And LOVE and GROWTH are the very purpose of life"
Phew
I'm glad none of this stuff is too much for me
Glad I've got it all sorted out
Know what I'm doing
Don't blow it
When I meet
Beautiful Awesome People

Guelph, ON #2

Still in Guelph

A lovely time

An amazing catch-up

And feeling useful too

You know how when you land in somebody's life

And they say

Oh

Wow

This is just what I needed

An answer to prayers?

That's pretty nice

And scary too

Wondering what I am

Who's pulling the strings

These decisions of mine...

Seemingly free will...

But anyway -

There are so many things I'm digging about North America

The positivity of the people

The way houses don't have fences

Front porches

It's all so inviting

We speak the same lingo

But, wow

We're so different in so many ways

I came here in December 2001

Sort of inspired by a Rob Breszny horoscope:

'You are far from your true home

But soon you will discover

The land of your descendants'

And for a long time I wanted that

And I'm kind of back there again

I felt at home in Vancouver

I feel at home in Guelph

I miss England not

Save how cheap the supermarkets are

I dig it here

Sincerely

And also I'm afraid

Of a great many things

Well - three

One is this feeling that Life wants me to hitch-hike across the country

One is the looming prospect of knuckling down and writing

Either putting up or...

Well, shutting up seems incomprehensible

And the other is

Love

Am I a good man?

I so want to be

I've been afraid a lot lately

I trembled before Exeter 

I trembled before coming here

I tremble, and still I walk on

It always turns out amazing

But some things are harder than buying plane tickets

Landing uncertain in unknown cities

Sleeping in sheds

Guelph, ON

Back where I was nine years ago
Reminiscing
Loving this town
Feeling...
Well
Ya know
Canada:
It's so far, soooooooooo good
That's all I want to say

Toronto, ON

And now I'm here in Canada
How strange!
Not really thinking about it
Just kind of -
Okay!
I'm an ant!
I got flipped upside down
Caught in somebody's coat
Flicked off their sleeve
Three thousand ant miles from home
And now I -
Just flip myself rightside up
And carry on walking
Who knows where?
But the ant sure seems to

Tears #2

I also cried on the plane
This really amazing movie
Where Kevin James is a fat biology teacher
Who becomes a cage-fighter
To save his school's music program
Cos the bespectacled Korean girl...
And Henry 'Fonz' Winkler...
And the really unlikely love interest...
And...
Cheesy, low-grade Hollywood always gets me
Point being:
Maybe my Athens/Amma tears don't mean so much
I'll cry at owt, me

Exeter, Devon #4

And now I'm off to Canada
Bought a ticket last Tuesday
After waging a very real war
For several days
And several thousand words
A battle between my desires
And the conundrum of 'surrender'
A puzzle I don't really understand
But -
In any case
I'm off to Toronto tomorrow
And then Vancouver Island
For the next six months
And already it seems
As though the Universe is conspiring
Supporting
Leading me, perhaps
To something
Unexpected
Amazing
The divine hand
Reaching down
To lift me up
Move me about
Greek god
Chess piece
Clay man
Style

Tears

I cried...
When I was at Amma's
Reading about her charitable works
Simultaneously moved
By both the tragedy
And the goodness
In the world
And when sitting in the darshan line
Not really feeling anything
When -
Tears out of nowhere
Attached to no thought in particular
Also after my first hug
Maybe my 60th in total
When an altogether new response
The urge to curl up foetal
Pull my hood over my head
And weep uncontrollably
For reasons my conscious mind knew not

I also cried in Greece
Three times
Unexpected tears
At a glimpse of
The Temple of Zeus
In Athena
Weeping, maybe
Not just for 'the birthplace of Western Civilisation'
But its fallen pillars
Suggesting, perhaps
That this is also where it died
And then on the road to Delphi
Hitch-hiking randomly
'Losing time'
Going nowhere
Cursing my decisions
My indecisions
My lack of rides
Worrying over those I would not meet
And how to find them
And then
The sudden glowing remembrance
Of all the mad
Stupid
Random
Times
Wrong turns
Mistakes
That led me to Dave
To Mexico
To the Canyon
To Shawn
And Shane
And John
And -
God, how amazing is and how much this Universe loves me!
How lost I thought I was
And yet I was ever on my way

I cried too at Delphi
Staring at the spot
Where the Oracle once sat
Similar reasons to those in Athens
Tears of sorrow
For the passing of the age of oracles and gods
The material world
That has taken its place

The struggle

Here's my struggle
I've mentioned it before
It's kind of linked to one that goes:
The world is my oyster
And I know it
And there's nothing that gets in the way of that
Except knowing what to do with it
And making a choice and
I guess
Sticking with it
I don't like making decisions
I like it better when someone tells me what to do
But that doesn't seem to happen anymore
Or, at least
I don't know anybody who would know what was best for me
So...
I implore the Universe
Say
"Name it, Man!"
I'll do it
I really will
But the Universe seems strangely quiet
The answer generally being
"It's for you to do whatever you want"
I can get into that
For a time
The idea of me in charge
Creating my reality
This physical realm
Like the sculptor's clay
And me sitting grinning at the wheel
Ready to get my hands dirty
But what to create?
That's the question
And though I know the answer
(An awesome relationship!
To write!
To do something good!
To travel and have excellent adventures!)
I never seem able to get down to it
Number one, I vacillate
Number two
More than that
I can't get over the idea that there's a God up on high
And that this God wants me to do a certain thing
And that's what's best;
Indian holy men
Who seem in the know
Say:
"Surrender!
Self-denial!
Thy will be done!"
And my angel-channelling friend says:
"Be a leaf in the river of God
You can't know the way
Only God can
Let go"
And loads of other things besides
Yet
Neale Donald Walsch's 'Conversations With God'
My Bible
Says
"You're in charge
Do whatever you wish"
It's confusing
And even my angel-channeling friend says
Whenever I beseech him for answers
About some woman to marry
"The Universe'll never answer that one for you
It's completely up to you"
Aaargh!
Which one is it?
And how do you surrender anyway?
For if I stopped
Running my life
Wouldn't I be a mere potato in the street?
Would God take me to the toilet?
Brush my teeth?
Get me out of bed?
No
That's daft
So then we flip the other way
Laugh uproariously
And say
"I can do whatever I want!
Go wherever I choose!"
And dream plans of mad travel
Girls
Saying anything to anyone
Being whatever I feel like
That's what makes more rational sense
But that doesn't work either
For instance:
Last year I wanted to go to Canada
But I lost my passport
In mysterious circumstances
Took it as a sign not to go
And, as it transpired
There was a very good reason for it
Many good reasons
I learned tons
And it was good/God
I bet I could count dozens of times
My plans have been thwarted
Weird things have happened
And I've surrendered to the circumstances
And it's turned out for the best
Aren't the greatest things in life
Always the ones that come unexpectedly
Unplanned
Out of left field
Somewhat spookily?
So there I go again
Thinking that's what I need to tap into
And remembering also
Visions of people and places
That have guided me so beautifully
But then remembering times too
When I've just jetted off
Not knowing what I was doing
Totally unsure
Totally following weird desires
And that's always taken me amazing places
But...
What of I Ching that guided me to stay in Canterbury
And when I did
The unexpected awesome thing happened
Like three days later?
What of I Ching denying me various schemes
For what later transpired to be very good reasons
Or the few times I've gone against it
And seen how disastrous my own will can be?
It's very clear:
Something larger than me is in charge of my life
And yet
I still have to make choices
Decide how to traverse the day
Put in effort
Probably there's a middle way
I'm just not seeing it
Probably, as in all situations
Where only two possible solutions arise
It's the third one that's the best way to go
I don't know the answer to this
I guess it's a slight variation
On the tiresome old argument
About free will and
I'm not terribly interested in that
I just want to live my life in the best way possible
Not waste too much time
Get as much happiness and fulfillment out of it as I can
Maybe there's a clue in there somewhere
Maybe the issue is actually
Learning faith
Learning not to think ahead
Learning to buy into funny Mr Universe's game
Of constantly stretching my limits
Until I one day come to the point of realising
Everything's always there when it's needed
That there really is no need to do anything
Until it's necessary
Nor know anything beyond time
Nor, really, think beyond this present moment
I dunno...
I'm 37 years-old
I'm incredibly happy nearly all the time
I live nowhere
Currently sleeping in my boss's spare room
He and his wife seem very happy to have me there
But to where will it all lead?
What would I become
If I just surrendered to that?
I woke up this morning
Singing The Beatles' 'Nowhere Man'
And having googled the lyrics
I feel really quite troubled
What the fuck does it all mean?
And mad as you think I am
I'd be a fool to ignore these songs
That just appear in my head
Especially after that episode with the
"Stay With Me"
On the mountainside in Greece
(It was just a few minutes before I discovered that monastery
And I did stay there
And it was great)
So...
Ah! I love how writing about my actual feelings
Gets me all in a tizz
What to do?
How to figure out?
Twelve hours ago I was all ready to buy a plane ticket to Canada
Got the dates
Got a place to go
But...
Haven't thrown an I Ching
'Cos I'm scared of what it'll say
Even though I trust it
And know it knows best
And sees what I can't see
And don't know what else I'd do if I didn't do that
Which I guess all adds up to
Throwing one
I
Did throw one a few weeks back
It said: "Be receptive. Follow, don't lead.
Listen."
Not long after that a friend offered to buy me a ticket
Offered a place to stay
The works
But...I kind of took control myself
Cos I have money
And ideas about times and places
And always want the best deal
Whether I'm paying for it or not
And -
Nowhere man, don't worry
Take your time, don't hurry
Leave it all
Till somebody lends you a hand
Which, really, brings us right back where we started:
If the answer's coming
And it's my lot to surrender
To wait for assistance
To...
But I've still got to get on with my life
Can't stay here forever
Now the work is done
So then I think,
Well let's just hit the road
Go back to Exeter
Sleep in my shack
And resume my perfect happy hobo life
But is that surrender?
Who's deciding?
Fuck
You know what?
Sane people don't deal with these issues
They just get on with it
Book holidays went they want to
Do what they wish
And have a nice time doing it
But at the same time...
It's a long time since I met a 'sane person'
Who had anything that I wanted
Who had a fraction of the joy
The peace
The enthusiasm
And the excitement
Weird old world, innit?
Weird old me
Weird old everybody
Weird old...
That's another thing that strikes me:
Just how bizarre it is
When you think of the way
Pretty much anybody spends their time
Think about it
Think about our hobbies
Our jobs
Our procrastinations
The hours we spend with things that have no value
Billions of us
And then we die
Some men devote their lives to hunting yetis
Excited by hairs found in trees
And persevere even when scientists tell them
"That's one hundred percent horse"
Some women scan groceries for a living
Day after day
Decade after decade
Some people write millions of mad words
That no one will ever read
Some people just watch TV
Others do awesome things
And have grand plans for the future
And then die in really retarded ways
While still young and beautiful
I've been thinking about this a lot the last year or so
It must mean something
Say something about me
About where I'm at
But what that is
I'm not quite sure
It's kind of like:
Nothing really matters
So you might as well do anything
Which - again - brings us right back to where we started
And the whole dilemma of whether
We're masters of our own universe
And can do whatever we choose
Or whether there's a higher power guiding us
And the smartest thing is to go with that
The higher power's definitely guided me in my time
Guiding me now, I suppose
And I guess what I'd really like
Beyond everything
Is to understand that higher power
To meet it
And to experience that mystical yogic bliss
I've long read about
'Cept the thing with that
As opposed to say
Wanting a nice car
A new kitchen
Two weeks on the beach
The new Dan Brown
Is that I know the way to all those things
But only the higher power knows the way
To the higher power
Shit and balls!
It's pretty frustrating, no? ;-)

Leeds, West Yorkshire #2

Nine days in Leeds
Amazing how fast
Those four blissful weeks in Exeter
The divine time with Amma
Can be vanished
And replaced with something...
A little less gleeful
A little more stressy
Despite the big cosy house
All these creature comforts
A steady income
And familiar faces
I'd rather be homeless in Devon!
I was much happier there
Believe it or not
There's more to life than money
And having a roof and a big TV
(he jests)
So a change has got to come
But -
Oh, don't get me wrong
It hasn't been all bad
Or even remotely bad
Just different
I've helped out my old boss
Done three long days' work
When he was short-staffed and in need
I've completed my refereeing assessments for the year
Promoted, all being well, to Level 5
Only 4 more years and then I'll be at Wembley
Hahahahaha!
Something I needed to do
Something I wouldn't have felt satisfied not doing
Delaying my progress in that another year
All for the impatience of getting away
But now I'm free for winter travels
Five grand in the bank and
The other thing I realise is
Man, I just don't need any more money!
Truly, the work'll never stop coming
The money'll never stop piling up
But isn't enough enough?
And I've waaaaaay more than enough
What point going on
When my soul is bent towards other things?
Refereeing and my last job has taught me something
That being a "Yes Man" doesn't work
I tried it and -
Do you know what you end up doing?
Working every day
Refereeing all the time
Earning money you don't need
And
One day this life will end and I'll say
Wow
I said "yes" to everything
And all I was was a cog in the machine
A football referee!
I mean
I love it
I really really love it
But there's more to my life than that
And if I just said "yes" to everything
Well...
There wouldn't be
So, Danny Wallace,
It just don't quite work
(And I know you know that
But I only just found out)
Anyway -
Leeds
Work
Job done
Reffing complete
Possessions sorted
Plenty of money
No home
No lease
No commitments
No openings
No beckonings
Time for a whole new beginning
And a look at all the options
Which include
But aren't limited to
Going back to Exeter
Flying to
Peru
Canada
Mexico
India
Seeing Amma again
Seeing Mother Meera
Visiting various people
Or something totally unknown and out of the blue

The Year

The year runs generally
From January to December
But there are other years too
Depending on what you do
The financial year
The student year
The football season
Birthdays and harvests
My birthday's at the end of Jan
And what with Christmas
(Time for spiritual contemplation)
And the standard New Year
That tends to be a period
For me
Of heavy introspection
Evaluation
Looking back
Cleaning house
Thinking forward
It comes spontaneously
It sometimes grabs me by the balls
This year though
While at Amma's
"Christmas came early"
The marker of time with her
Her London visit
Every October/November
The way the scenery's the same
The memories
The faces
Getting older...
All those changes
Over the fourteen years since I first met her
And in particular
The last twelve months
When Yair was here
Smiling gladly
Modeling balloons
Disappearing crazily
To watch Champions League football
And Laura...
And Nicky...
It all comes flooding back!
What a groovy and crazy year I've had!
Learning the folly of 'free love'
Running a university squash league
Dropping nine tabs of acid
Hitch-hiking on Christmas Eve and Day
The madness of Vipassana
The horror of the month after that
And then February and March and April
When my heart got torn apart
And I cried buckets
Realised a billion things
And swore blind I was in a mid-life crisis
I ditched my apartment
Lived in a rectory
Lived with 20-year-old Evangelical Christians
Sleeping in bunk beds
And listening to them 'speak in tongues'
I had a vision of Greece
A genuine frickin' vision!
And I went there
And was proved right
And on my return
Left my happy and comfortable life in Leeds
My jobs and home
My more-than-enough income
And rode a train to a city
I knew nothing about
On the strength of my feelings
And lived there pretty much homeless
Sleeping in a shed
Buying food for the poor
And smiling at everyone
And it was one of the most
Gleeful
Giddy
Peaceful and fulfilling
Times of my life
What a crazy, wonderful year!
Not to mention
Visiting Californians
Providence and miracles
Learning unparalleled
And feeling somewhat useful at times too
Who said life in England was boring?
Me
I did
That's who
I thought youth was over
I needed to change
Maybe even 'grow up'
But what this year has shown me
And most particularly
Trusting that vision
And all my irrational feelings
For new direction and transformation
Is
Wow
There's a lot of life to live
I'm still young
I ain't dead yet
And life on the edge
Really is where it's at
The joy
The growth
Maybe even the love
Love Growth Joy
Isn't that what it's all about?
Screw security!
Hahahahaha

Leeds, West Yorkshire

Monday morning
Aching legs after a day of old
Biked twelve miles
Reffed two games
Back to back
And then played in one
First 11-a-side since March
For the university Law Society
We only had nine men
But we won
Then -
Ate lentils like a fiend
Eased the oncoming cramps with a bath
Fell asleep watching a bad sci-fi movie
(The most recent Star Trek)
And slept dreaming weird dreams of levitation
Like I always do
Except this time I was getting explicitly told off
By trusted spiritual teachers
New Age friends like to think it means something auspicious
These levitating dreams of mine
But I think it's more about being ungrounded
Egoistic spiritual ambitions
That sort of thing
Anyway -
I'm back in Yorkshire
It seemed kind of logical
After London
Not really on the way to Devon but -
The old boss wanted me to do some work
And sorting out possessions is good
Given various factors
Like how close I came
To buying a plane ticket to Canada
But all the cheap tickets have gone now
So I don't know what we'll do next
Stay here till Wednesday or Thursday I guess
And think of something then

London

Left Exeter 8.30 Monday morning
Smiling smitten
Realising I'd fallen a little bit in love with the place
My four weeks there
My four weeks as a homeless!
Seeming like
A ten-minute dream
Did it really happen?
Could it really have been so wonderful?
It was
But London feels right
Amma's there
And why wouldn't you be in town
When the saints come marching in?
And -
Three days with her
Same old same old
Day one I feel sleepy and achey
And wonder what I'm doing there
Day two I cry a little
And get irritable and annoyed by other people
Spend half my time
Having pointless battles
With Evangelical Christians (in my head)
- have I been infected? -
And think I'll never come again
And day three -
Devi Bhava
The all-nighter
Amma just going and going
Right through to 9am
Never less than ecstatic
Never less than one hundred percent present
Never tired
Even while we young and chilled out devotees
Collapse in red-eyed yawns
And when I get my hug
And see her filling me with her love
And realise how my annoyance with others
Has transformed into adoration
As always, I know
This is just the best thing ever
I asked her some questions this year
The eternal questions
Finally got up the braves
But no answers came, surprisingly
Just, "Amma will help you"
Just!
Hahaha
Actually, it's more than enough
That's money in the bank
If you believe those things
Which I (generally) do
Anyway -
She finished just over an hour ago
The morning is stupidly beautiful
She's probably the greatest person who ever lived
I feel so sad for those that won't see her
God's love in a human body!
Ay caramba...
It's almost too much

Exeter, Devon #3

In between refereeing two football matches
A quick post in the blog
Which I'm always uncertain about
But -
Hey ho
I've got pretty good on the old delete button of late
And seem to be containing it quite well
Mostly just writing about what I've done
Instead of endless musings and expulsions
Of thought
Of feeling
And -
All I'm saying is
Two days ago I was all gung-ho for Canada
Then I got swamped by thoughts of a particular woman
And all the reasons I couldn't commit to her
And then a miracle happened
Just through saying hello
To a friendly, smiley 'psychic
And I suddenly realised she was awesome
And there were no problems at all
Thought I was cured
Quite ready for it
But then somebody I kind of trust says
No
Probably not
Why don't you go on adventures instead?
And of course that always sounds appealing
Quotes in books
Always telling you to risk all
And do the mad thing
Live your dream
But maybe what it is really
Is living someone else's dream
Cos they don't have the -
Anyway
Last night I go to sleep
After an incredible few hours in the church
After walking joyfully in the rain
Just chortling and singing to myself
Amidst waves of realisation
And laughing even more
Cos I had no idea why
And whaddya know?
I dream then of some other girl
The one who always throws the spanner in the works
And I'm back to square one
Oh well
This is all some kind of teaching
To surrender to the moment
To decide only when the point of decision comes
To truly live one day at a time
Ever alert
Ever expecting
Change
The unexpected
Something new
Just thought I'd throw that out there
Quite often writing in public
And sharing my questions
Helps to bring the answers
Frees up whatever stuck energy
I might have invested in those thoughts
Though maybe this time I'm being too vague
Wanting privacy
Wanting to continue in this blog style
Of concentrating on what's actually happened
It's better
- believe it or not! -
Than the millions and billions of words I used to throw out
Without really thinking
That stuff was bottomless
But now I've got glee.

Still -
You'd better frickin' tell me one day!
You crazy-ass Universe
LMFAO

Exeter, Devon #2

Kwupdate

Can't believe I've been here three weeks!
Mostly just wandering the streets
Feeling happy
Smiling at people
I love being a hobo!
Buying sandwiches for the homeless
Walking slowly
Helping women with their shopping
And so much time to think and meditate and pray
Early nights in my abandoned shack
Miraculously sleeping out of the rain
Feeling better than I think I ever have
In fact -
Two days ago I was fretting:
Man, what I really love is growth
But the way it's going I'm way too pleased with myself to grow
Dissatisfaction and boredom so frequently the keys to newness
I needn't have worried
Wink wink
Today was all kinds of thoughts
But then...
Something shifted and joy returned
So much laughter and glee
I can't understand it
But I'm loving it

Pee bottle

One of the best things about camping
Is peeing in a two-litre plastic bottle
No need to leave the tent
No toilet water to waste
Plus you get to see how much you've peed
The other night
Between 10 and 10
I filled the whole two litres!
And then some
(But we won't go into what "and then some" means)

Loving myself

There once was a time
Hitching through Colorado in '98
That I got so deliriously happy
I would hug myself
And leap in the road
And declare to the world
"I love my life!"
Before looking swiftly around
Making sure no one had heard
And many's the day
I've longed for that feeling to return
Well now -
It's not quite the same
But it might be even better
My life - the world that happens around me -
Is much of a muchness
Nice enough
I can't complain
But what I'm really digging
Is me
These days
Walking 'round Exeter
Catching myself laughing
And realising how much
"I love myself"
It's true!
I do!
I'm so much fun to be around
And as I type that I realise:
Yes
Double meaning
The "me" that's fun
Is crazy-ass Rory
Such a sweet silly fellow
Not a 'grown-up' at all
And the "me" that's loving it
Is the me that gets to watch the show
The one who is 'around'
The body and the mind
I generally think I am

Loving myself #2

About a month ago
Talking about my healed relationship with my mother
With a very good friend
She asked me if I felt my mother loved me
Tears came to my eyes
My heart moved considerably
And: "yes," I said
For the first time ever
Believing it
Wow, I realised
Something's happened
Something big
Believing oneself loved
Is a major step in life

The Pound Shop

I bought a padlock the other day
From the pound shop
Didn't expect much
But even I was surprised
When only one of the three keys worked
You gets what you pays for
I guess
On closer inspection
The two non-functioning keys
Weren't even the right shape:
For some totally different lock!
There's a first
Reminds me of the time
I bought some scissors
That wouldn't even cut paper
:-)

Phone

I got rid of my phone
A couple of weeks back
The first day or so
I trembled
Wondered what I was missing
Wondered how I'd survive
Then I got used to it
Then I forgot all about it
Noticed that I was still here
Still fulfilled
And still, in fact
In a town where I know no one
(Save a nice guy I used to play football with in London
Who I bumped into one day;
He moved here the day before me)
Still getting plenty enough human interaction
And weirdly enough
Feeling happier than I did with it
Doing better things
Those pre-sleep moments
When the emotions start arising
Than checking up on the football
Or sending pointless messages
To far off people
I may never see again
Like -
Really getting into kind of hypnotising myself
It's amazing
The depth of memories
One recalls in that state
Maybe even past-life too!
Though I wouldn't go so far as to rule out the possibility of fantasy
Anyway
Just wanted to mention
That I got rid of my phone
And life's better without it
<grin>

The Eternal Questions

Groovy though everything is
They remain
Whether to jet off someplace
Who to get in a relationship with
Where to live
What to do
Sometimes it gets a bit tiring
But I suppose I'm making some sort of progress
And if I never pondered beyond tomorrow
Which is how it should be
It wouldn't matter one jot

Choices

The big problem
If you can really call it that
Is that problem I've been having a long time:
Namely
That the world's my oyster
And I know it
Know that I can go anywhere
Do anything
Be anyone
With an infinite menu
How're you supposed to pick?
Commitment, I guess
Is the issue
Choosing one thing
From the multitude
And sticking at it
But in a world without limitations
Why would I want to do that?
Of course, everyone else says:
Travel
Follow your dreams
Just be wild and free
And that appeals somewhat
Although what they're probably saying is
I wish I could travel
I wish I was free
I wish I could just leave everything and go wherever I wanted
But it's not all it's cracked up to be
And when your soul needs something different, perhaps
Doing what you want might not be the best thing
What about "Thy will be done"?
Self-denial?
Surrendering to The Source?
Not that I know how to do that
I still get out of bed
Think about my day
Eat and brush my teeth
And wait for some instructions
And the instructions never come
(Except, of course, they do
Right when I need them
Just that I think I need them
When I don't
And think it a lot)
Anyway -

Exeter

Has been very good to me
I can't even explain
Because I don't understand
Why I'm so gleeful
So content
Just walking the streets
Meditating in churches
Eating snacks
And digging my thoughts
It may be coming to an end now
Or it may not
Only one day at a time
Suffices as a way to live
But -
Wow! What a trip it's been
What a lovely, homeless vacation
What a blessing and a gift
Thank you, lovely Exeter.

Totnes, Devon

That crazy coin!
Sat on St James Park station
Just to eat my breakfast
A train pulls in and coin says
Get on!
So I do
Wonder where I'm going
Get off at the next station
Exeter Central
And find myself trapped
(Or at least having to pay a needless pound to exit)
So I travel to St Davids
Get off there
And see that girl I keep bumping into
The friendly one who gives me hugs
Where's she going?
Plymouth
Well might as well go there too
And so I do
Chat all the way
It's lovely
And then two hours in P
Buy Brian Weiss's 'Many Lives, Many Masters'
And travel back to Totnes
The place I thought I might really be bound for
On this Devon-based adventure
I wander the High Street
Very New Agey and hippy
Psychics and womb-workshops everywhere
But nothing happens
Think, oh well
Go sit on a bench by the castle gate
Way away from everyone
And carry on reading Michael Crichton's amazing and wonderful 'Travels'
(Funnily enough, the exact same title and premise I came up with for a book on my trip to Greece
Basically like reading my own autobiography)
And half an hour later
Just about in the dark
A young American comes up
Sees the locked castle
Says hello
And I say, hey man, have a seat, let's chat
(Still in traveller mode, despite in UK)
We chat
He invites me to this pot luck he's going to
We go
Isn't it wonderful, the way things always work out?
And hippies! And New Agers!
And everything's permaculture and veggie
Like -
The way the guy at the end offers out 4 litres of free milk
Asks a room-full of people
Does anybody drink milk?
And no one does
How groovy is that!
Anyway, that self-same guy invites me to his
And I sleep on sheepskin rugs
On the floor of a shed
That he's transforming into a cabin
At the bottom of some artist's garden
Apparently loads of people live like that round here
It's pretty much my dream
To live in a shed
One simple room
And write

Exeter, Devon

The maddest thing I've done in a long time
Leaving Leeds
When everything seemed so wonderful
A nice home
Two well-paying jobs
Stacks of money piling up in the bank
Squash and football
Forever seeing people I knew in the streets
My dad wanting to give me his shop
But still I left.
I guess we need a prologue...

Prologue

One morning last December
I wake up to a genuine 'vision'
The word KORINTH
Emblazoned massive upon the inside of my forehead
I don't know what it means
Then I think maybe it's an old city in Turkey
And googling shows I'm nearly right
I think about it...
And later on I go
Following other signs
Following the whims of a coin
And it all adds up to something -
unorthodox, yes -
But wonderful
I realise that I can trust myself
Trust my unorthodoxy
And I decide to go for the next one
Which is: EXETER
The way I feel every time I see the word
The way it keeps cropping up
The way I finally notice it - well, Exerta anyway -
Written on the back of my bin-found trainers
And one other thing too
So I fly back to Leeds
Pack my things
And make a wonky bee-line
Via London and Kent
For a town where I know no one
Know nothing about
Research not a jot
Just go

1.

And everything's groovy
And I like the people
And though I'm sort of indistinguishable from a homeless chap
Save for my overstuffed bank balance
I feel happy and content
Walking hither thither
Tossing coins
Following up clues
Playing the "Yes Man"
And doing things I wouldn't normally do
I'm anonymous, I guess
A whole new me
Anyway

2.

One clue takes me to a nearby beach
Turns out you have to walk through a tunnel to get there
And the beach is pretty much deserted
And beautiful too
There I do my usual thing
Of speaking to 'The Man'
Of feeling gleeful and glad
Chortling at myself and my life
And there I find waiting
Written in pebbles
In a sentence forty-feet long
"YOU HAVE REACHED THE END OF THE INTERNET"

3.

I'm camping in trees
I'm following the signs
Living one hour at a time
Gumtreeing not
Minimal contact with the past
For the other thing I realised in Greece:
Wow, my life was so much better before the 'net
Before, at least, the way I've been using it
Word of mouth
Overheard conversations
Strange coincidences.

You probably won't agree
But it works for me

4.

It's amazing to feel so much peace
So much glee
So much casual giggling happiness
When outer circumstances are such
But then -
The other thing I realised yesterday
Amongst all the rest
Was how utterly futile it is
To think about communicating these things to the world
The greatest things aren't youtubeable
Bloggable
Filmable
Writable
For instance -
The way my heart moves when I accidentally break a spider's web
I can't show that to anyone
Nor record it
But it is amazing
And one of the best things about me

Herne Bay, Kent

Came down to London
On the £13 train
More degradation
In those first fifteen minutes
Than in my whole time in Greece
And Mexico too
But walked slowly and content
All the way to Elephant and Castle
To spend the night with a friend
And have good Godly chats
Then the next day: Kent
Close old friends
Their three children
One, my godson
Lots of playing
Lots of navigating
The minefields of wee ones' emotions
Lots of getting lovely cuddles
And their adorable smiles
Could I do it?
Does seem rather a headache
But rich, I guess

Greece in brief

Yesterday

As I was making dice-dictated decisions about the future

(With a dice I found miraculously in a cave at Delphi)

(A cave I spent several hours bricked inside)

I asked about this blog

Options ranging from

Full annihilation

To full resumption

The dice chose number 4

Update with locations and something brief

So…

I’m in Leeds

I’m back from Greece

18 days there

The first nine on mountains

Alone in the sun

Blissful solitude

And realising

Wow

In the city, with all its people and possibilities

I feel so alone and bored

And sitting here

Quietly under trees

With nothing to do and no one around

I feel full and complete and content

Slept five nights in a monastery up a foot-only trail

Ate beautiful monk-cooked food

Saw turtles, both alive and upturned and dead

Fed wasps

Hacked through trees

Scrambled up rock faces

Felt young again

Felt close to God

Felt restored

And back in touch

Realised

I really can trust myself

At odds though I am

And saw my future

Then I left the mountain

Became a tourist

Tasted the good and the bad of that

A night sleeping slap bang in the middle of Athens

Ten feet from a fellow homeless man

A day at Delphi

Meeting genuine goddesses secretly chanting to genuine gods

Drinking out of ancient holy springs

Sitting happy in that bricked-up cave

Sleeping in Itea under somebody’s porch

Hitch-hiking all the way to crazy, horrendous Thessaloniki

But there meeting a monk

And talking for four hours

On the bus to holy Mount Athos

My one night in a hotel in Ouranopolis

Where a dream tells me

“No more solitude mountain nature time for you –

Go home!”

And so home I go

But not before racing up Mount Olympus

In world record time

And the beauty of the hike from Litochoro

An hour in touristy Meteora

And then finally some fabled Greek hospitality

God

Miracles

Providence

And nature

A really wonderful trip

Which I will write about lots

And maybe share in full
One day

And now

I'm in Leeds

100% happy

And looking forward

I can’t believe I lost myself!

And I’m so very grateful to be back

He smiles

He smiles

He smiles

Hand-written journal #2

Just woke from the most extraordinarily lovely dream about Brit. A full-blown relationship. Like a Cameron Crowe movie. We were riding freight trains together. Bloodied from a snowy bus crash. Held one another tight. We were amazed by the other. Working out domestic chores and duties. Semantics. "How much time do you like to spend cleaning the bedroom?" Initially misunderstanding what that means and then sitting down and working it out. Being really groovy, living together. Really beautiful and wild.

Dice resists contacting her though. Mind thinks, that's not the new.

But really quite stunning though. I was a good man in that dream.

I can't help but plot...

Hand-written journal #1

And just as I was waking up a young Japanese (?) girl was on the phone saying she needed to get closer to me. And a young Japanese (?) guy was saying I had to come to his party. Something to do with my book, and Canada. And my first thoughts of the day are about trips and travels and the way they arise - the spontaneous ones - the ones guided by newness and above. Too many thoughts in my brain guided by old, by the world (the internet). God is newness. God speaks...in unexpected, futuristic ways. By that I mean in contrast to the mind, which is based on past experiences and what is known, what is thinkable. Have to be more free, more open. The world's a blank canvas. My mind wants to go on recreating the past. My spirit wants to step forward into newness, into blankness, into empty, uncreated space. Was Eve in there too? Or just another reminder of the mental attachment to the past? And the places journies into newness can take us? It's not safe - but it is growth, and interesting.

The new
Slough off the old
Step bravely
Into a whole new world
An empty world
An uncreated world
Naked as a newborn babe
Carrying not the safety net
Of internet address book
And old friends
There, you get what you know
But I want something new
I've already done the old
I know what that means

Even Canada, perhaps, is old, is known, is familiar. Even writing. Everything my mind leaps to. But what was the other big lesson of Greece?

1. I can trust myself.
2. Travel with God is a moment by moment thing. No need to know the future. Korinth > Loutraki > one monastery > the next > my home. And that was great. And then the mind took me on tourist trips, to places known and past, and that was...okay, because I made it so. But it wasn't the same.

Okay, God, you lead the way. Everything must serve You. To throw myself in the river. To do Your will. To follow...the signs. The path. Free of human - internet - mental - interference.

The new. The new. The new...

Lesson #3:

It was better back then
'98, '99
When there was no internet
Christ!
The greatest time of my life
Those first 4 months in Mexico
I never went near it at all
But life was amazing
And the '99 that followed...
Now far too much reliance on computer
It drags me to it
Keeps me in the past
Keeps me...tethered
And away from God
I know that
Every man alive will tell me I'm wrong
Oh well
They are known
I want...the unknown

What to take with me to Exeter:

Contact Devon FA/leagues? Yes.
Go via London? Yes.
Via Kent? Yes.
When? Tuesday.
Take guitar? No.
Take devil sticks? Yes.
Take tent? Yes.
Take ref gear? No.
Not even basic kit? No.
Hard drive/laptop? No.
Winter clothes? No.

Cool.

Pictures from Greece

A nice Austrian man called Simon sent these to me. They're the only pictures I have from Greece. In fact, they're the only pictures I have from the last two years. Is having photos of yourself something that decreases with age? Anyway -

This is near the top of Mount Olympus. I'd climbed it the previous day. Had hiked up from Litochoro to Prionia in the morning but then when I got there they said it was too late to reach the top. It was about 2.45 and apparently six hours to the summit. I figured that was six for a normal person though. I stashed my bag in a tree, took a rain jacket - had heard it was less than five degrees at the top - and started running. Figured it would be a good exercise in pushing my body, that at some point I'd reach exhaustion and then things would get interesting. Going beyond the pain barrier like that time in the Superstitions. But in the event it was pretty easy. Climbed eighteen hundred metres in a little under three hours. The last bit to the peak of Mytikas was a little frightening though. And maybe kind of pointless. Even though I'm driven to it I do wonder why. By far the best bit of the trail was the bit that hardly anyone does, between Litochoro and Prionia. Incredibly beautiful clear water pools and super peaceful and hardly any people; the mountain proper's kind of bleak and cold and crowded. Peaks are for the ego. But mountain peace and beauty you can probably find on most mountains, and that's for the soul.

Met all these people the next morning. Nice folk. Most were going up to the peak but I figured once was enough. Anyway, as you can see, not much of a view.

Myself and these two lovely Austrians came down together. The girl was an awesome hiker, an absolute machine on the trail.

Simon really like to take pictures. Not sure what this one is of.

He also really liked my adherence to coin slipping. This was me deciding where they were going to drop me off. I had four Euros left at this point and to my surprise it said to disembark at Larrisa, right on the east of the city when I was going west. I walked across town. I wondered what would happen. I had three nights before my plane. I needn't have worried. Amazing things transpired.

Financial crisis

This is what the current financial crisis looks like:

And this is what a real crisis looks like:

Private August journallings #6

I woke early this morning from a strange dream wrapped up somehow in weird evangelical Christianity. I was walking along with Christian and another guy and we come across three men who were doing something New Agey (or perhaps being human statues). Anyway, the other guy who was with Christian and I held up his hand to one of the New Agey blokes (the one on the left) and said something like, you’ve got an object on you. I took it to mean something ‘spiritual’, like a demon or an illness, some blemish in his aura. I couldn’t see anything and thought given these guys looked fairly powerful in their New Aginess nothing would happen. But without touching him, just holding his hand there, the New Ager started staggering backwards and eventually fell to the floor, typical Christian stylee. Then more praying began, more people arrived, more holding up of hands and falling over and healings and conversions and such. It was all a bit mad. My old school friend Steve Phillips arrived and, being sceptical and atheistic and funny, I expected nothing from him. The hand went up. He made a joke. But then he got it also, did the falling backwards thing, lay on the ground. Soon there was a pretty massive crowd, some police ambling about and having a look, even Prince Charles coming over. I had to admit there was something going on, something I didn’t really understand. And I knew it was related to the long email I wrote to Christian yesterday in response to his sending me ten pictures of Jesus’s crucifixion with various, “this is what God looks like” messages on it. I mean, in the dream someone did try it on with me and, open as I was to something happening, nothing happened. But I think the crux was that sentence I just wrote there: “something was going on, something I didn’t really understand.” Maybe best to leave the Christians to their thing. Maybe it is just a beginners’ tool, a gateway drug. But, still, the gateway has its place, it’s one way to get people ‘hooked’. Leave ‘em be. Let ‘em play their beginners’ games and you move on to other things.

Unless, of course, they really do have/know something you don’t have/know. I’m always open to the possibility. Think, in moments like this, Christ, what if Jesus really is the only/right way? It smacks in the face of everything I think and believe to be true – everything I’ve learned from Amma and Yogananda and Conversations With God and Weiss and my own experience – but I suppose it’s good to leave a little room for the possibility. Even though nothing in my evidence possibly presents it as true. But a little doubt keeps you honest. Nothing wrong with that.

Anyways, I’ll guess I’ll paste that email that I wrote to Christian here –

Oh Christian...what am I supposed to do with that? S'a bit grim i'n't it? ;-)

How about some quotes?

"To die for a cause is easy. To live for a cause is a whole other matter."

(Buddha spent thirty-five years helping people; Amma gives 20+ hours every day to helping others, and has done since the early 80's. I'm not saying they're any higher than Jesus. But people sacrifice their lives every day for their "higher cause". Suicide bombers, for example. Jesus's life is the message, not his death. I really think it's time for Christianity to come out of its "death obsession" and martyr phase.)

"There's none so pious as the converted."

(It's funny I was thinking about you on the way home today, and about Mosaic and similar things. About the youthfulness of those involved. You've got the unlearned young teaching the unlearned young teaching more unlearned young and making those unlearned young into leaders. To be a bit more crass, the blind leading the blind. I'm not saying you're not beautiful lovely people - but it's a bit much to go parading around saying you know stuff about God when you're barely out of nappies.)

"Extremes create extremes."

(I was thinking of that when I was thinking about the Christian 'moshing' videos. It's probably why I mock them while just smile at genuine moshers. Genuine moshers say they're doing their mad crazy thing because it's fun; Christian moshers say they're doing their mad crazy thing because they're God's chosen people and everyone else is wrong and what they're doing is holy and good and God's will. Extremes create extremes. I think you'd do well to think about that. You try and push people in a certain direction they're either going to buckle or push back. Why is it Christians bear the brunt of atheist's attacks? Why not Hindus and Buddhists? Answer: probably because Hindus and Buddhists don't shove their religion down other people's throats.)

"Certainty can be a great mask for insecurity."

(One thing I've found: the more devout and public a person is in their faith, probably the more uncertainty and insecurity they have deep down. When you realise the truth you also realise you don't need anyone else to believe what you believe because your belief doesn't rely on theirs.)

"Ours is not the only way, ours is but another way."

(One day, hopefully, all religious extremists will just chill the eff out and realise this. Religion was chiefly borne of man's ego. Ego = separation = the opposite of God, which is Unity. If you think anyone is something other than God's child you're not seeing the whole picture. I understand why ego, why insecurity, why the need to be the chosen ones and to be right and for others to be wrong. But there's a better way than that. A smarter and wiser and bigger and more all-encompassing way.)

Have you heard the parable of the blind men and the elephant? Or the sick man and his doctor? They're good ones; I'll tell them you.

1. A man leads a blind man to an elephant and asks him to describe it to him. The blind man holds the elephant's ear and says, ah, yes, an elephant is big and flat and floppy. Another man describes its leg, like a tree trunk. Another it's tusk, smooth and tapered and curved. No no no, says the first blind man, that's not what an elephant is like, an elephant is big and fat and floppy. No no no, says the third man (and also the fourth, and the fifth) and they all start to fight thinking their own description is right.

2. A man goes to his doctor because of a certain ailment and his doctor prescribes him a medicine. The man goes home but instead of taking the medicine he makes an altar to the prescription and begins to worship it. No improvement. He returns to the doctor and the doctor explains, no no, look you have to actually use the prescription. Ah doc, says the man, you are so wise, I understand perfectly now. And off he goes and on the way holds the prescription and chants, one pill in the morning, two pills in the evening, one pill in the morning...and still no improvement. He returns to the doctor and the doctor explains again. Oh, you're so wise, says the man and off he goes. Returns home. And starts to castigate his neighbours and townsfolk telling them how useless their own doctors are and how wonderful his doctor is, how they're all fools for going to the wrong doctor. And still he doesn't take the medicine...

My child, you're ever such a young sprout. Find a bit of humility and open your eyes to the possibility that there just may be a great many things in this world beyond your current understanding. Check out the words of Ramakrishna, Amma, Julian of Norwich, The Cloud of Unknowing, St Francis of Assisi, Mother Meera, Paramahansa Yogananda, among many thousands of others. It's only your ignorance that allows you to say, "my doctor is the only true doctor that ever was and ever will be." Is it really so bad that there are other good doctors in the world and that there's still a trillion and one things to learn and understand, and plenty to unlearn too. The movement is from ignorance towards knowledge. From separation towards unity. From fear towards love. Which way do you want to go? This is my fear: that I see all these beautiful young shining minds and that instead of opening up further and further and growing into wonder they burrow ever deeper into narrow, indoctrinated beliefs, stuffing their ears to the nagging voice of reality, and becoming more and more 'certain' that they already have the truth they profess to seek. I really want to believe you're better than that.

Also: "belief is for things you don't KNOW, only hope to be true. The louder the belief, the less likely, alas, that you know."

You know it's only love that motivates me to say these things. Actually reading the Bible that partly prompted it. Some passage about the responsibility of saving others from their ignorance. Not sure I buy into that - so many of them! so few of us! - but, there you go, I done it.

Anyways, goodness only knows what prompted all that! ;-)

Big love,

Rory

– and then move on to what I really wanted to talk about, which was having another look at Shawn’s reading from a few months back, somehow drawn there this morning. Maybe one line at a time. So…

You perceive a gulf between the connection that once was to a perceived lack you now find within yourself.

That’s true. Or I guess it was. Haven’t really been thinking about it lately. Been too busy with work and also with thinking about other things like Greece and the psychotherapy course and refereeing and my life.

This lack, this perceived emptiness has created a yearning in you, a desire for connection, for purpose.

Ay, there’s the rub: a yearning for purpose, to feel useful, to have something more than [what I perceive as] shallow interactions with others and the world.

What must be understood is that it is only your perception which allows a distance from your connection, from the divine, from us. We have never left. The connection you feel has diminished has never retreated, in fact you are constantly being bathed in our light, in our energy it is only the aperture of your mind which has contracted leaving you feeling as though life has darkened.

Hm. Well maybe that I’m not thinking about my perceived lack of connection anymore is a sign that I’ve come to accept this statement as true and relax into it. Or maybe I just got busy with other things.

This constriction of flow has created a need to reach out, to find comfort in any way that you consider possible in your current state of perception.

You mean women? Lol. Or in busyness, work, looking for career, travel?

Probably in women, huh? Well I can’t argue with that. Although later on you do say something that makes me think my constant thoughts on women and relationship are actually okay and in accordance with the deeper desires of my soul. I do need another, on some level. But the reaching out is still there. Yes, I’m not at peace with the world, the way things are, feel a strong need to do something more with my life rather than just ‘being’, and so I’m reaching out. The thoughts on knuckling down – once again – to some writing. To doing something “with/for the world”. But what is that desire? For the world still turns and there are seven billion people in it and I, as one man – and one deeply flawed and unenlightened man – could never really do that much anyway.

Am I Ramana Maharshi’s outward-looking mind thinking I need to first wake everyone else up in my own dream? To be some sort of saviour? To…

Well, probably they’re the kind of fruitless speculations I don’t really need to get into here. The original point was “seeking comfort” – and, I suppose, more precisely seeking “mental comfort.” The mind wanting peace. The mind wanting to feel that it’s where it needs to be, not missing out, not wasting time. An image there of a basement flat in Leeds. And the thought of my life as recently lived, refereeing and working and slowly ticking ever onwards achieving very little tangible except the growth of a bank balance and a ticking off of days while the body ages and wrinkles and moves ever onwards into middle age and old age and death. Depressing thought. Terrifying thought. That I won’t crack the secret in my youth and will one day find myself grown up and no longer able to live mad and poor searching for my treasure.

In any case, I’m off to Greece tomorrow, and maybe all these speculations are in vain…

Loneliness is a self-made void that can never be filled by anything in the outer world. It is a vacuum which draws forth and is never satisfied.

Yup, I believe that.

Ask yourself why it is that you feel disconnected. Target that which separates you from the ever present flow which constantly strives to flow through you.

I think I asked myself. I’m not sure I really got an answer. Why do I feel disconnected? What is it that separates me from the “ever present flow”?

…

Fear. Fear of…various things, really. (I’m typing now without thinking, without foreknowledge of what is to come.) Fear that I’ll do something crazy (such as flying off to a country on a one-way ticket and abandoning my comfortable life just because I one morning had a vision of the name of a city in Greece). Fear that all this ‘spiritual stuff’ – “the promises of God” – is bunkum and make-believe and, yes, “too good to be true.” That it’s just mad people saying mad things. That I’d be better off settling down and being normal and committing myself to the material existence. That it’d be wiser and smarter to just work and get rich and buy a house. That I’m nothing special and all this God chasing is just making me crazy and leading me further and further away from the vast majority of men and where will it all end? Fear that I’m ruining my life with the crazy thoughts. Fear that…well, I seem to be getting away from the original question, started talking more about my fears for this upcoming trip to Greece. Original question was about the [perceived] separation from the “ever present flow.”

Hm. I guess it’s fear. Is the “ever present flow” the thing that presents wonderful ideas to my mind, ideas that I don’t act on ‘because of fear’? Ideas like those I had when I took the acid? Ideas about starting up a little church? Ideas I get excited about and roll around in and then push back out of my mind ‘cos they’re too difficult and different and crazy?

That’s fear, isn’t it? A lot of people go with ideas like that, and probably far crazier and more ill-intentioned people than me.

Ideas for writing, too. All these things that constantly burn within me that I don’t really do, unless in the short-term, momentary flickers on a good day like when I got all determined to ‘pray for others’ that afternoon behind 5 Hessle and just watching movies and being comfortable instead.

Maybe that’s what stops me. Maybe the flow is there and I just don’t “go with it.” I may have hit on something pretty big there. Maybe those ideas of a little group in Leeds, in my little flat, weren’t so crazy after all. But it’s like that time I tried to have a party as a teenager and nobody came. I’d just feel so devastated if nobody came to the party. I mean, that was a different party – a lame party where the only aim was to get drunk – but I know it’s stayed with me. I hate the thought of trying to get something going. But maybe it’s the not doing of it that is causing me my tension. I cry out to God for instructions of what I should do – probably deep down in inside more wanting an answer like, “fly to Canada” or “marry this amazingly hot girl” or “train to be a psychotherapist” – but perhaps God’s already suggested it. Perhaps those ideas of a little group are where it’s at. Or going to the canyon in Mexico. Or whatever writing ideas I’m presented with.

I really need to think about this. And to endeavour to “go with the flow” whatever that may be. And for the first time I see it may not be about leaving everything behind and just living one day at a time, on the road, with a backpack over my shoulder. It may be about something a little more ‘settled’ than that.

Your mind has been busy building reality in such a way that you may function in a world which is daunting to you. You perceive reality as something other than what it is.

This is a terrifying indictment and statement, if true. For what have I been doing with my time then if all it has been is trying to conform to a reality that isn’t reality at all? Yes, I’ve been trying to make it work in the so-called “real world.” Getting grounded. Associating with ‘normal people’. Becoming able to shoot the shit and chat about everyday things and function around blokes without wanting to tear my own head off. Able to rent a place and stay in it for more than to months. Able to tolerate supermarkets and a city built around shopping. Able to live with women. Able to contemplate career and check out the housing market. And even though it’s not truly satisfying, at least it’s ‘sane’ and functional. I was out there, man. I felt like life wanted to bring me to this place. And now you’re telling me it’s all been misguided? Or is that really what you’re telling me?

Your mind has been busy building reality in such a way that you may function in a world which is daunting to you.

Yes, the world is daunting to me. The world of work and of getting by in the day to day. Times I was amazed and staggered that people managed to find and do jobs, barely able to comprehend how I could make that leap. But I did it. And it wasn’t too hard. I found things which didn’t appear to hurt my soul – nor swell up my eyes – and it’s nigh on two years that I’ve been in Leeds. I’ve barely left. It’s not the most satisfying life – but then, that’s perhaps because I’ve neglected the things that could have satisfied me, such as writing – always satisfies me when I actually do it, no matter where I am – and those ideas of starting a little group, a church, a ‘whatever you want to call it’. Other people do that sort of thing. But then, is it not just me “looking outwards” again? Seeking to fill a hole with others? Again, “building reality so that I can function in this daunting world”? Or is it more than that? The “going with the flow”? The fulfilment of some divine purpose, the purpose that I cry out for?

I guess we’ll see. And…

You perceive reality as something other than what it is.

Okay. Good. So what is reality? If I perceive it as something other than what it is – if what I think of as reality isn’t really reality – then, pray tell me, what’s the frickin’ point in anything that I’m doing? If everything’s serving some false God? If every decision I make, thing I do, idea I have is all barking up the wrong tree anyway?

It’s all very well telling me I don’t know what reality is – but a far more useful thing would be to show me. Go on: show me, I dare you. Take me to some cave in Greece. Let me sit there in the dark with nothing but a drip of water for forty days. I get so bored of not doing something like that, of not knowing the answers to these, life’s biggest questions. Would that show me reality? Maybe abandoning everything and going to Greeceon a one-way ticket isn’t such a bad idea after all. Time once more for “death or glory”? Or just more hare-brained ideas powered by a delusion and inflated sense of “self-worth”?

What is reality? What is reality? I want to know.

Show me. Don’t let me give any more of my precious time to living for a false idea of truth. Man, it’s gonna be so frustrating if I get to the end of this life and then look back and see that I was living it all so totally wrong all along…

You long for the magic, the synchronicity and your idea that the world is a place devoid of this is mistaken.

You’re right, I know. And by “the world” I guess you mean “Leeds” or “the city.” Because if you mean “planet Earth” then I suppose I don’t really have much option for escape from that. But if you mean “the urban world versus the quiet and peaceful natural world”…well, I guess what I’m saying is, yes, I know one can find God in the city – theoretically, anyway (thinking Yogananda and Calcutta) – but then it hasn’t really been my experience and the noise and craziness of it doesn’t really work for me in the same way that nature does. More people in the city, and therefore more chances for people-based interactions – my recent encounter with the evangelicals testimony to “synchronicity in ‘the world’” – but those things are few and far between. The power of the environment. The mindset of the people therein. It does often feel like I’m surrounded purely by shoppers. I mean, I’ve lived here two years and not very much has happened when you think about it. And yet, for some reason, I haven’t been allowed to leave.

So what do you mean by “the world”? Planet Earth? Or the worldly urban life of work and living in an apartment and associating with footballers and drunkards and people who only think about their paycheck and what’s on TV? ‘Cos, okay, I know it’s not devoid – but it don’t seem to have as much “magic and synchronicity” as I would like. And maybe that’s my fault. Maybe because I haven’t worked “to put it there.” Maybe because I’ve stifled my candle and not acted on the ideas that I’ve had. Maybe ‘cos I’ve kept my mouth shut and just looked to others to provide the things that interest me. And then become dissatisfied. And then turned against.

Maybe it really is up to me. But who am I to think such things? Knowing the delusion, the “exaggerated feelings of self-worth”, and the fact that I don’t even know what reality is anyway?

Or is it true that: “it’s not necessary to know all the answers to lead others in the search for them. One needn’t be a teacher to set oneself as the head of a group – its founder, its organiser – because even as the head you can still learn along with everyone else. That’s honesty, humility – and far more value to your ‘students’ than trying to be Mr Wise One who has it all together and has solved the whole shebang”?

Interesting that as I write this I lean towards that idea of starting a group, here in Leeds, in my old basement flat. The other day I wrote and I came to the conclusion that I should be buggering off to Mexico and living in the canyon (with a woman) and writing about it. And you wonder why I don’t trust my own mind, my thoughts? Once upon a time this writing used to get me down to the heart of the matter: but now it seems I have many different hearts. Once upon a time the road was straight and true, the way to take obvious. But now it is filled with forks, crossroads, roundabouts, five divergent directions and no clear signs as to which way to head.

God, I suppose, will show me the way. It’s one step at a time and all I have to do right now is go to Greece. A decision will be made and what I think the most important thing to do once that’s happened is to keep on walking, to not look back, to try and break through into some whole new reality instead of forever confusing the past and the future and straddling many different realities at once. Email and the internet are partly to blame, keeping me forever harking back to women and places and ideas long gone. Time to move on. To blaze a trail into the glorious future. To forget about what I once was and to really embolden to “go with the flow” and “fulfil that mysterious will of God,” no matter how daunting or challenging it might be. That’s what I keep asking to do. I just don’t seem to have the braves to do it.

And the divergent directions? Just to name them and put them out there. Nicky and Ireland. Laura and Yorkshire. Psychotherapy. My dad’s shop. Canada. Brittney (God, I can’t believe I’m thinking about that one!) Eric and British Columbia. To “live where I belong.” Mexicoand my canyon. Writing vs working. Or both, but definitely writing. Leeds and refereeing and squash. Travelling and being a devil-sticking vagabond. And always California, even though my dreams forever portend it unfavourable (right now). Those are the things, the crossroads, the decisions. I won’t talk about them now. I’ll trust that the answers will come. Getting into them will only be an exercise in thinking, won’t provide any genuine answers because the time for answers isn’t now, I’d only flip-flop back and forth anyways. But just so you know what I’m thinking…

Calm your mind, open yourself, you will find that this material world is made of the same substance as that which flowed through you for a time when you finally opened yourself up to it. Go forth into the world as a child, with wonder and see it pregnant with possibilities as you once did.

Well…okay. I tried that a little by riding my bike and saying, “ma-ma” at everything and it kind of worked in making me feel like a child. But, you know, living in Leedsand paying your rent and thinking about jobs isn’t really “being as a child.” Nor contending with the minds of religious people. Nor having to deal with women. It’s not easy to be a man-child in this town when you work as a football referee and everything’s so concrete and everything. I mean, I pull it off pretty well – there’s no one gonna accuse me of being a grown-up (and I know you don’t mean, literally, be a child; I don’t mean to labour the point) – but it seems a lot easier to do it in the alternative lifestyle where you just gad about with a backpack and toss sticks in the air and –

So why don’t I just do that then?

Ha! That’s a bloody good question. ;-)

Calm my mind. Is this calming my mind? Is writing good for me or not? Or is it all just mind games, the ego, and the opposite of that which I seek? I’ve been remembering lately – in the wake of trying to quit writing my blog – that my best period of growth came in Mexico when I neither blogged nor went anywhere near the internet. The most synchronicities. The most magic. The internet and blogging and sharing things through writing had nothing to do with it. I’ll quit it for a while. I’ll try and be a bit more like that. Write on paper and then chuck it away (or not). Oh, to be back in 1996 and less connected times when there was only the future and old people were gone forever unless you carefully kept their names and addresses! Oh, the ancient Chinese curse of “being born in interesting times.”

This material world is made of the same substance as that which flowed through you for a time. Go forth into it as a child, with wonder, and see it pregnant with possibilities.

Ok. I will. I shall walk wide-eyed and open to whatever comes. I shall be present and think not of the past or the future. I shall get off that plane in Corfu devoid of plans and ideas and just go walking into the Greek sun. Get on a bus if I feel called that way. Spend my money without a thought for hoarding it. Chat with everyone and follow those I feel drawn to, and let those who feel drawn to me follow me. I shall blink like a child and not know where I am. And if it takes me three months to get to Korinth, that’s what it will take. I’m starting to feel glad I’m going only one-way. I don’t care what happens to me or to my wallet. The worst thing? That I spend a hundred, a hundred and fifty quid getting back instead of the sixty I spent getting there. Oh, boo hoo hoo. So I get there and I find out it’s not for me and I should have planned to come back to Leeds after two weeks after all. Oh well. To think I’m letting my mind get bent just at the thought of a bit of money! Foolish child. Spend it! That’s what it’s there for. Man, I’ve got so much. And plenty more where that came from too. Can’t believe I’ve become so tight. And getting worse with it all the time.

Go forth as a child.

I will. I need to relinquish adult things. I just want to be free.

And then you move swiftly on to talking about relationships with women and, wow, I’m right back to contemplating life as an ‘adult’…

You have progressed on your own and have reached a stand still. There is a stubbornness within you. A refusal to surrender as a means of self-protection. A time has come in which to carry on with your journey with a new opportunity to diminish the selfishness within your nature. This selfishness is not unusual or to be labeled as a negative trait, this notion will only strengthen it. You instinctively are aware that the way in which you may be able to accomplish this is with another. To share a life, to share a love with someone. To grow together, leapfrogging each other on your path of experience.

Ay ay ay…and there I am, rocketed right back to thinking about Laura, to thinking how she was ‘presented to me’, and to thinking how I’ve been avoiding being with her for nearly twelve years now. Is that my “refusal to surrender”? That at age 25 she and I were brought together and that I’ve gone nowhere since? Certainly, that’s about the time my growth stopped – felt most explicitly when I was in Victoria in 2001 chasing after Sara – and I know that was linked to women (to, more precisely, my mother issues, as Shawn’s angel pointed out). Twelve years and still she’s around and still I’m thinking about whether or not to be with her. So many reasons to go for it, and several reasons not to. How can I be with a woman I don’t find attractive? But then what of the lesson of Meg Ryan learned while watching When Harry Met Sally the other day? That, wow, she was so hot and sexy and attractive and, man, 25 years down the line she’s just gone wrong (as far as physical appearance goes). So what of basing one’s relationship on something so fleeting as that? At least “never making a pretty woman your wife” won’t be disappointing when age kicks in, as it invariably must, and as it will with me. Such silly shallowness! But then…

It’s not just that, it’s other things too. Her worrying. Her haranguing me about locking windows and doors even when we’re just sitting in the garden. I dunno, maybe they’re nothing things too. The other day, when off in Scarborough – and away from everything, and therefore with some time to really contemplate my life – I think of her and I think, wow, I actually feel bad for not being with her – feel bad for her – for the years 26 to 38 when maybe she could have been bouncing children by now, been a satisfied and happy wife and mother. Maybe I’ve deprived her, and maybe that’s really bad of me. Selfish and stubborn. And maybe it’s not done me any good either. My spiritual growth stopped around that time and though I’ve achieved certain things – university, my relationship with Sara, written a book, a bit of travel and a bit of learning – where have I really gone in my life? Mostly it feels like circles. Like treading water. Like being at standstill. Where God and spiritual experience and bliss? Meanwhile, happily married and daddy Shawn meets an Indian guru and merges with the oneness and gets the thing I crave. So maybe I’ve been silly and missed out. Maybe just twelve wasted years. Twelve years of going nowhere. Just stunted growth.

But then what of Nicky? The woman I met when I came back from Mexico and Israel with my mind fixed on “finding a wife”? Living in her yurt in the countryside in Ireland, loving nature and kind of embodying the dreams I once had for myself. Such connection and power during my emotional upheaval earlier this year. And yet so bored when I was actually with her. Did I really love her? Like her? I’m not sure I did. But then perhaps maybe a fault in me that I say that, and a fault that could be overcome. Would she really accept me as I am, the way Laura does, or is it the better me I presented when I was trying to win her back, and a me that I may not be able to sustain? I seem to be quite lazy and content to do not very much at heart, and I’d probably slide back into that given half a chance. Laura doesn’t really mind that; Nicky does, and that would create problems.

Laura, Nicky, Laura, Nicky…

I walk into an office with these thoughts in my mind and say to the security guard, wanting his surname for the form and half-remembering it from before, “is it Nicky?”

“Yes,” he says, and I can’t help but smile and shake my head at it, shades of Elijah and Rosemary and all weird California messages from before.

But then Laura’s story far more empowering, the message from Momma and her fulfilment of it earlier this year. The face-disappearing connections we have. The ease and comfort I feel with her. Rested and relaxed. And that “the place where I belong”? But if so, why such thoughts of Canada and Mexico? Or just more stubborn selfishness, refusal to surrender, escape hatches and running away?

I need somebody. I want to give my self, my life to a woman. I want it to be the right woman but even you say there is no right or wrong and I just don’t understand how that can be. I mean, I’ve chosen women before and, given that I’m no longer with them, I suppose they must have been ‘wrong’. I mean, Perlilly was awesome and, though there was nothing ‘wrong’ with her, she was certainly ‘wrong’ for me. So how can I know if Laura or Nicky or somebody else is going to be ‘right’?

This is the answer I seek in Greece. Let it be Grace. Let it be Brittney. Or let it be someone less glamorous and exotic and let it be Laura, in Wakefield, back home, where I always was. I don’t mind. I just want to get it on. And to try and be a little less selfish and stubborn and stunted. To learn something about love. To…

To grow together, leapfrogging each other on your path of experience.

This is the problem. Laura and I don’t leapfrog. Nicky and I did that, trading karma and growth. Laura watches X-Factor and cooks the tea. She’d make an excellent housewife and mother. Nicky, on the other hand, brought out that emotional side in me. But then maybe that was just my choice.

Oh fuck: what are Laura and I? You must please tell me. Just brother and sister, having made incestuous mistakes? Or something more than that: husband and wife? Lovers and the mother of my children? This is the other answer I seek in Greece. The answer to Momma’s original riddle. Was that not just Sara all along? It pointed to it at the time, and to Canada. But then…

You remember that I Ching sitting in Grimethorpe with Laura pondering the upcoming Canadian trip? “You can’t escape your destiny,” it had said – and I took that as a sign to go…

Well, I’ve written these things a million times: no point going over them again here. No answers to come today. No reason to dwell. Some mad, crazy cave in Greece and me pouring my heart out to God in wild reckless abandon and only leaving when incontrovertible, genuine answers come. Let’s move on.

Your mind, your self-created idea of yourself is your biggest obstacle. You attract what you are, this you know and when you encounter someone who is energetically matched to you, you see yourself and reject the person who you are with. This rejection is indicative of an unwillingness to reach inside and face the fears and misgivings you have born of a troubled past and a misguided sense of self-worth.

True. Can’t argue with that. Think I’m better than everyone else and still think, deep down, I’m some sort of Messiah, too holy to get involved in the mess of human romantic relationships, just preserving myself for the day when God plucks me from obscurity and booms out, “you are my beloved son and I’m putting you to work in a Jesus Christ stylee.” Such madness! But that is genuinely what I think.

As for the “rejecting someone who is energetically matched to me, someone who reflects myself” – well, there again, that seems to be pointing more to Nicky than Laura. Nicky was very much like me and, yes, I rejected the parts of myself that I didn’t like. Laura’s not really like me at all and I don’t reject her because of the things inside myself – or at least I don’t think I do – I reject her because I…because I don’t relish the idea of the life she offers me. Too humdrum. Too basic. Something like that – though that may be completely wrong, both in my idea of the life and in my interpretation of the rejection. I dunno. I do know that I want an answer though: Laura, Nicky, or someone else. That’s all that I care about. Not what the answer is, but that I get an answer and it’s an answer I can believe in enough to stick to it.

Dear one, you are a beacon of light hiding under an idea of yourself as a limited being. You have been given rare insight and experience and yet these fade into the background in favor of a more realistic outlook on life and your place in it.

So? What should I do with that? That just makes me confused, thinking maybe I should be out there Jesus-style and shining my light – and then a voice there screams: “forget about flipping Jesus!” Okay, maybe there’s a middle point somewhere in there: ie, not doing nothing, but not trying to live some weird ideas of modern-day Messiah. Oh, I don’t know: you tell me I’m a beacon of light, that I sacrifice that in favour of a more realistic – I read: materialistic – view of life and that just makes me want to be spirit-boy, forget all about marriage to a normal, worldly woman. Or can the two things marry up, a la Lahiri Mahasaya? If the latter actually the precursor to the former, a la, perhaps, Shawn and maybe even L.M. and Sri Yukteswar themselves? My path, pre-determined and destined, and for twelve years now ignored by me, marriage the gateway to realisation?

To say that you will attract what you are does not imply that you must become a better man, a more whole individual and then go forth to attract, you are at a place of stand still and require others to help you grow as you are in this moment. It is necessary to forgive yourself for your past and to forgive those things within you that you perceive as unworthy traits. This can be practiced and accomplished by doing the same in others with the understanding that the flaws and imperfections you see in others are only a reflection of that which you despise within yourself.

That’s Nicky and all the things we lived earlier this year all the way. I do forgive. I do understand her because I understand myself in her. But does that mean she’s the one I should commit to? The thing is, there’s nothing really about Laura that I “despise” – not that I’m aware of – so how could she be the one I’m pushing away?

You are a self-created being full of only light and love and the beauty of diversity, it is labels of good and bad which weigh like an anchor leaving you in stagnant waters. See in others this same beauty of diversity, learn to cherish it within them as well as yourself. Vanquish from your mind the ideal of the perfect partner because it is a false construct and not in line with your vibrational needs at this time. Do not fear making a wrong choice, ride the wave of life where it takes you, see the wonder and beauty in others, have a sense of humor about the labels which your mind persistently places on certain traits or ideals, only then can you allow yourself to surrender to another person and thus weaken the selfish tendencies and false ideals you have created. Through our eyes you are pure beauty and potential, a light which begs to stream forth into the world. Your mind-created ideals appear as murky shadows which lay over this light obscuring it. Stop worrying and thinking so much in regards to relationships and your own purpose, go forth and feel your way through each moment rather than ponder the moments to come. This must be done by you, for yourself. This is your own chosen journey and there is no benefit in being told what steps to take, you must feel your way through, you must walk away from the beach of the notion of this world of so-called reality and wade into the water of feeling and experience until you are ready to plunge into its depths. We are with you every moment, we are guiding you with the quietest of whispers, but the choices must be your own.

Where’s the key in all of that? “No perfect partner, not in line with my vibrational needs at this time.” “Cherish the diversity in others, as well as myself” – a challenge, that, controller that I am, and fearful of the whims of others, their potential infidelities, their possible dabblings in alcohol and drugs (perfect mirrors of me).

Real key is probably that “stop worrying about things and just feel your way through the world one moment at a time” – which of course appeals to my reluctance to commit and plan ahead, to forever keep myself ‘free’.

And the ending: “you must walk away from the beach of the notion of so-called reality and wade into the water of feeling and experience.” Wow. What a sentence. What an enticement. That wonderful though life is now it’s not even dipping one’s toe into true reality. That even wading is only a precursor to plunging into some unknown depths, some unimaginable experience. What is the way to that? Marriage? Staying in this city? Leaving it? Or, as is outlined here, and as I conclude every time I search for an answer, “taking one step, one moment at a time, using my feelings as my guide.”

I go to Greece. I hope to still my mind. I hope to be able to hear those quiet whispers. And I dream of a ridiculous, tearful reunion with Chaley – or even Sara – all the while praying it isn’t just the ego part of my mind wanting to shake a fist at the world and say, I told you so, I am awesome and especially blessed!

I guess something’s gotta change soon. I’ve been thinking that for a fair old while. But it’s all now coming to a head, what with the squeeze from the outside world. Refereeing and my dad’s shop and psychotherapy press down on me and I’m either going to buckle – to surrender to that – or I’m going to get out of the way, jump to the side, and emerge into some new way of life. Can’t go on the way I’m going though. More to offer than just riding a bike and coming back to an empty house and filling my time with internet and movies. At least, I hope so.

Writing. A relationship. Growth and God. Whatever I think, whenever I get pressed, it always comes down to that.

Amen.