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Tethered

I woke up to the sound of gulls over the St. Johns Harbor.  My eyes opened to a porthole window throwing light onto a ceiling of thin wooden slats with flaking paint, trying once again to trick me into thinking I’ve woken up in the belly of a fishing boat.

In other days, this might’ve tossed me into a moment of mind-busting lightness.  Everything has to be mixed just right;  new smells and surroundings, a relaxed body, and some alien ambient noise as the catalyzing garnish…and a thin sliver of mindlessness that lets me slip through to the other side.  Like that one time on the couch in New Orleans, smelling the hot breeze through the window of our shotgun house.  Some ghost ship on the Mississippi blows its trombone horn, and with it goes anything left of myself.  For a divine moment, I was one of the spirits of this bayou bardo.

Here where I lay a stone’s throw from the high and frigid Atlantic, the ingredients were mixed just about right.  Just as my crown might’ve begun to poke through, I felt the tether at my ankle chained down to some stubborn wrinkle.

I felt like my life was over.  It wasn’t dour or self pitying; but the idea of “my own little important life” was enough to keep me from joining the glorious everything.

Maybe it’s the right thing to give up on all these projects that were supposed to make me feel like I didn’t squander all my gifts.

It’s probably some type of irony, but now I’m irritated by my partner and my dog wrestling nearby, upheaving the twenty minutes that I’ve finally put aside to do something creative.

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Lack

You’ll throw anything into the Lack.

You’ll throw the money you earn, the people you called friends.

You’ll throw the dream you’ve held since when your fingers were soft and tender.

Right now, just this second, it takes from you.

Unless you look just right.

Dover Downs, DE

(Feb 21) Santiago demolishes Christian Daniels, racking up his second 1st round KO victory and rising to 2-0 (2KOs)

In his first month as a professional, Milton “El Santo” Santiago has shown why he was the first fighter ever allowed to turn pro at 17 years old in PA. Despite his youth, he has shown the command, instinct, and poise of a veteran in his prime. Within 30 seconds of Round 1, Santiago staggered Daniels with a powerful overhand right, and the writing was on the wall. By the time of the stoppage, Daniels could do little more than shield himself from a relentless flurry of Santiago’s body blows.

Managers Moz Gonzalez and Eddie Woods have stayed true to their promise to keep Santiago busy, and are already setting their sights on Santiago’s next challenge. “We’re excited to see Milton’s development – the sky is the limit for a fighter with the potential that Milton has, and we’ve put a great team in place to support him. Everything’s going to plan, and we’re excited for the next steps in his career.”

Image

ImageIn his first nationally televised bout, Farah Ennis patiently sliced up Richard Pierson in a dominant, one-sided victory that is Ennis’ 20th.

Ennis came out to a strong start, collecting the first four rounds with confident, thudding combinations to Pierson’s body.  Pierson, in a show of respect to Ennis’ power, kept his arms up in a tight defensive position, but Ennis powered through with stiff right hands and vicious hooks to the body.

Pierson came to life in the 5th round and stunned Ennis with an errant right hand, but Ennis showed his maturity by patiently snapping out jabs and regaining his momentum.  By the sixth round, Ennis was back to dominating with patient, convincing combinations.

The end of the fight was a grind, as Ennis tried to engage a fighter that was intent on remaining on defense.  Despite that, Ennis still managed to break off several stunning combinations, and easily collected a unanimous decision.

On the Wings of…

On the Wings of the Black Condor

My legs are hugging its ribcage, my fingers dug into its feathers.  Through the darkness of space we fly together.  Luminescent, twinkling stars are all around us, enchanting us, as we roar and roll through cosmic winds.  My heart beats euphoria; my heart is a sun among the stars.  The black condor breathes deeply, I inhale emptiness and exhale love.  Where the warmth from my heart meets the cold blackness of space, there are the edges of my body.  Where my breath mixes with the winds of all worlds, there is the path to my ancient home.  The condor looks up at me with glowing white eyes, I smile back through the tears streaming down my face.

We see the twinkling of some galactic cluster up ahead, the smells become alien and shadowy entities begin to emerge.  The condor snorts, my nose is runny from the cold.  She pins her wings back and dives through the cloud of Qoya.

Ahead of us, a sun is rising.  Beautiful white light illuminates our path and reflects into my eyes.  This path is the only one, the divine one, the path to heaven.  Be fully in love, because this path will never end.

I shift into fourth gear, and we roar down the mountain together.

Healing

The man always had to be so strong, so strong for everyone.  Now he is crumpled on his hands and knees, in the darkness where no one could see him.  She and I came to him, I placed my hand on his back with the strength and tenderness that she had taught to me.

I know a song that he loves, and I sing it into his ear.  She brings her love to him, and we hold him and massage his body and kiss his face.  He cries, he laughs.  It’s ok to let go now.  It’s ok to sprawl and be taken care of.  It’s ok to receive this love.

He leans heavily upon me, I hold him tightly.  A crack in my back; the pain I’d been dealing with suddenly gone.  Gone in my love for him.

We sigh heavily together, we begin to laugh and cry and sing.  His face is light and angelic, smiling from ear to ear.

We return to the room and see someone deeply in need of love.  The man, full of abundance, goes straight to this person, and hugs him, and assures him, and appreciates him.

The love moves, it heals, it opens.  It is the highest religion

How Could I Forget?

We have been tricked into thinking that we are weak; because they have been feeding us poison, into our bodies and into our minds.  They are the psychotic gardeners, raping our existence so that their private table may overflow.

Remember, my sweetness, that your power grows like a flower.  Eat the true fruits of Pachamama, food prepared in love, without poison, blessed in gratitude, and your petals become soft and moist.  Breathe without stress or fear, be gentle to yourself, and your stalk will be firm and move gracefully with the winds.  Receive love, give love, give thanks, and be open to the sunshine of the divine, and your petals will become the rich colors of your heart’s desire.

Don’t let them poison you.  Don’t listen to the noise, or you’ll become a weed.  Remember to give thanks, and to do your work.  Remember that you are gentle, beautiful, and wise, you beautiful, beautiful flower.

Doing the Work

This weekend I am now fully at the controls.  My visitor, my dear beloved brother, has returned to the States.  After reflecting on my work the last few weeks, it’s been a little distracted and I’ve been effective but not full power.  My focus is now re-doubled as my autonomy returns.

The path ahead of me is exciting, and will require all of my skills.  My job has grown, while my hours have shrunk.  A problem with Peruvian Internet has shrunk the job slightly, and this week all things feel as if they will become normalized.

I have so much gratitude for my team, for the vision of my company, for trusting my autonomy.  This week my intention is to complete several challenging tasks, to exceed my own expectations, and to cultivate more abundance for all of us through my contribution to key projects.

A few key notes from this week:

  • Be gentle with yourself
  • When your song plays, it’s time for you to dance
  • Open the floodgates to love;  the supply is unlimited, and it flows through the world like pure, clean water

Every time I poke my head up, another big wave is headed straight for me.  My soul-brother Mark D has been in town for the last week, and I’ve been doing my best to get all my work accomplished, be a good host, continue to sort out living logistics, and somehow stay focused.

Motorcycle

Pingala and I have been enjoying each other.  I’m feeling confident, but not brash, and have been zooming all over the Valley, either taking Mark D to different sites, or just flitting down to town for a nice dinner or groceries.  Even though I feel more connected on the bike than in a car, I’ve amended to walk when I can so that I can continue connecting with the people I pass and all the smells, sunshine, and sights of the Peruvian valley.