Know Her Quiet Love

Racing round & round the hills & valleys of these beautiful Bay Area counties I have gradually come to realize that, deep within, my true search is always & only for the Goddess. She etches figure eights around Twin Peaks, ambles enlessly around the peaks of Mount Diablo, sits in silent meditation on lonely beaches from Alameda to Tennessee Valley, suns herself by the shores of Lake Merrit, whispers through my open windows, lays waste to ego & self-consciousness when the inevitable tears of joy storm from my eyes. When I find her I receive whatever gifts she bestows with loving reverence & grace, and request nothing more for all eternity except to know her quiet love.

"…I waited on a bench for my next bus trying to sleep on my arms on my rucksack but kept waking up to see the pale ghosts of American bus stations wandering around: in fact one woman streamed by like a wisp of smoke, I was definitely certain she didn't exist for sure. On her face the phantasmal belief in what she was doing...on my face, for that matter, too." --from Kerouac's The Dharma Bums

Iron Goddess

Claudia gave me the figurine on the left for my birthday, and a coworker gave me the box of tea on the right because she knows I'm a tea junkie, and it was just moldering away on her shelf anyway. Introduction to the Iron Goddess goes on, one leg tucked in to represent constant meditation, and the other ready to launch the body into action to help those in need. A female representation of Buddha. The tea (Ti Kwan Yin) drank down real delicious and invigorating too, superfine. These forms have drawn me to them, inspired heartfelt peace and aspirations of growth. I like the story of Buddha where she lets ants build a hill on her as she meditates. Life force control, it's the shiznits.

Another storm on the way. It kneads me and needs me. Just a few blue patches left in a darkening sky, no turning back, nothing to say or do (other than drag all my crap getting ruined in the rain into the garage).