Carnal Pleasures and the Mastery of Desire

How do you tell between illusion-based desires and those, well, that are more well-intentioned and serve the light within?

This is a head trip you can easily get lost in and your ego is going to be out there to get you time and time again, but as blade dancers, you can’t just go all raw or all celibate or all whatever to eliminate your addiction. Right? Krishnamurti already said this. I’ll get to the point. I promise. You might want to do this for a time, so that you remember how if feels to be without it, and how your brain and chemistry work outside of the addiction and withdrawal, but hey man, not everything that brings pleasure is evil. That’s why we’re here in these broke down bodies on this planet that is experiencing a biospheric meltdown right? We’re not suffering for our health, I mean, maybe you are, but I did not volunteer for this mission and I’m still a hedonist at heart. Since, we’re supposed to be living through our hearts right now, always were supposed to be. That’s why everything is all broke down. Our hearts have been broken.

Well, anyway. The fashionista inside me is coming back to life. Most times I am practical because I know I am going to be sweating balls or climbing over deadfall or what have you. But really, if I’m staying in all day or just driving to the store why not do my hair and make-up and actually think about what I am wearing? So in part this may have been spurned by the increasingly raw diet because I feel more glow-ey and more like LOOK AT ME (stupid ego! but there you go). I feel less like a ghost to the world and more like myself. Not that I didn’t feel like myself before, I just felt invisible to the world at large, but thank God that pieces of reality have finally come into harmonization with my vibration. Now that I know other people can see me I feel like then I really want to play around with what my outside casing looks like because inside I feel very creative and playful and fashion and cuisine is where my heart is having that come out right now. It’s sort of weird, because it normally comes out through music, art, or poetry but there’s the whole dissatisfaction with music at the moment.

I want MAC eyeshadows and brushes, cute sandals, some freaking clothes that I haven’t already owned for the last 8 years, nice clothes, not the shit you find at regular stores now a days. If anyone knows of any amazon fashionistas recently passing, I’m a classic 14 to 16. Dead peoples’ clothes are the best. lol. That’s the other thing about new clothes. They don’t fit right. There’s like all this room for stomach pouches, that used to be in plus sizes or half sizes. Misses, please. I have curves, but I am not a heifer. Juniors and girls sizes do not have room for boobs or shoulders or hips. And actually that’s getting bad too. I get something big enough for my shoulders and rib cage and there’s all this extra in the tummy area. But I have this vintage dress, that other the the sleeves being a little too short, is slammin’. Okay, I’m done. I think I am going to start buying new clothes at Victoria’s Secret because they are the same price as Target or Macy’s, better quality, and haven’t gone all vanity sized.

I did fall asleep listening to Miles Davis on the turntable last night. That was fabulous.

I did drink last night.

I did pick up a copy of Crosby, Stills, and Nash’s first album on vinyl. It is so freaking beautiful. It brought me to tears. Hey, if I can manifest an analog copy of “Judy Blue Eyes”, and a way to play it, I think I can manifest whatever I desire that is in harmony with the universe. Listening to this album I have loved forever the way it was intended to be heard was a truly, truly amazing experience. Indescribable.

So while I can still enjoy the old music. I am hearing a new sound that I haven’t got the resources to commit to bringing out of my head, and apparently, no one else is there yet, or they are in the same boat I am in.

Oh, and really, I want a mixer and a set of turntables because I am hearing Aretha Franklin disco house after listening to Love All the Hurt Away last night.

I did come across this mix that is pretty nice.

The dehydration is going okay so far, even though I was in the kitchen forever yesterday. The crackers are still moist and really crumbly, so I definitely want to try the chia seed thing next time, but they smell really good and I want to eat them right now!

I also was thinking, all of the above, this is why I can’t watch movies or read fiction anymore. Drama-free reality and the playful expression of my being through my high-heart is so fucking awesome why, oh why, oh why would I ever want to live through anyone else working out their archetypal dramas or intentionally creating illusion because they forgot or have yet to learn how to be? Nope. I am going to spend hours playing with my hair and make-up, playing in the kitchen, playing with jig saw puzzles, playing records, playing on YouTube… because I am embodying happiness. I cannot be distracted and I do not need to be entertained or brainwashed.

In the Kitchen, Wacky Raw Cracky

I’ve only been up for just over an hour. I did two sets of sun salutations and made the bed. The rest of the time has been in the kitchen. So far I’ve only made coffee and strawberry smoothie.

I am thinking today is the big day to get the dehydrator going for pulp cracker manifestation. I am asking/praying for guidance. I am feeling that I should puree all my left over garlic and an onion or two. Part of me still wants to hot box trays or something. I think it would go faster, and somehow the sun power would make the end result better. If it were winter, I would probably use the oven.

Some of the raw foodies say over 105 is too hot. A hot box or solar dehydrator would surely get warmer than that on a day like today. My feeling is that as long as it’s not pasteurized (160 degrees), it’s good. I still eat cooked foods. I just don’t want to eat overcooked foods or foods with preservatives.

I’m also thinking about making bread today because I am really, really hungry. I all ready ate 2 plums, a carrot, and all the squash from my farm box yesterday for dinner. I just drank the last of my strawberries. Seriously, is anything as yummy as strawberry puree with a hint of lime? What a sumer food!

I liked this video for pulp cracker manifestation. I have one of those crazy old school circular jobs though, so making a template and cutting parchment paper is going to be a challenge.

It’s already 9, so I don’t think I will manage the farmers’ market today. I understand it’s really hot and all, but some people just can’t move before noon.

Jeremy took the extra coffee grinder to Likely, so I could grind flax seed, but grinding it in the dedicated coffee grinder is kind of gross.

Doomsday Prophets

The doomsday prophets in my head keep repeating, “This is your last pound of coffee. This is your last pound of store-bought strawberries. This is your last chocolate bar. This is your last store-bought cheese. These are your last 3 pounds of bananas. You’ve already eaten your last sock-eye salmon.” Shut the fuck up! But I see myself walking 70 miles to find timbleberries next year. I fear hunger. Been there, done that, and it was desperate.

No Room for Distraction

I seriously cannot be distracted anymore. If I try to do anything to relax/escape/distract, my “ADD” kicks in and I can’t tolerate the activity. I can’t watch a movie or read a novel or listen to music or do yoga or sew or go for a walk or play an instrument or draw. Anything that used to be soothing to the soul. RRRNNNNTTTT! Nope, no can do.

I can only do what I need to be doing in that moment.

It is just like increasingly difficult to trust that this flow is going to provide for me. So far, so good I guess, but my ego wants a house so I can have kitties and a solar food dehydrator. My heart wants social justice. Every little piece of me wants this burden of debt eliminated.

Shootings and bombs and voter suppression and drug overdoes and assaults and FUCKING ARRRRGGHHHH! Sorrow and sorrow and sorrow that I am being forced to wait all this out because I am still dealing with issues myself, knowing myself, and I still feel like I am dragging this freight train of black oozey gooey putrid humanity along with me.

Juicing is Addictive

So check it out…

I have eaten almost all of my farm box and the avocados Jeremy got for me, and it’s only Friday.

Swimming today at Brandy Creek beach: I was really amazed at my power. It feels so fucking amazing to be out in the middle of the lake, treading water, surrounded by light and mountains. I probably was only swimming for like a half an hour total. I spent some time sun bathing and reading up on solar food dehydration (I got the book from the library). I’m not sure that we have room for a contraption on the balcony (the green things are about to take over my space), and we will probably have to make it in Chico because we don’t have tools, but…

Just like this week. I ate a pound of strawberries and five limes, bham!, in one day. But no canker sores. Today in addition to a smoothie and salad and juice, I ate a nectarine and a half pint of blueberries. My lunch was just blueberries. Wild, right? I walked 4 miles and swam for a half an hour.

Tomorrow is Upper Seven Lake. We get to see how horribly out of shape I am.

I figured out the trapezius are the secret muscles to work for popping up heel-side on my snowboard. Also maybe the lateral fibula muscle. I have a lot of work to do.

But yeah, so I’ve been expecting/waiting for this to happen for the last 2 and half years. We’ll see how it goes. I don’t know if I can afford to eat like this. The farm helps so much and living here, yeah, no way I could do it say in West Central Illinois or Western Kentucky. But here I am!

So thank my lucky stars (speaking of lucky stars, I saw a meteor tonight) I made it home and praise Zakary for motivating me to manifest this in my life now and thank the Lord for everything and thank Jeremy for being an awesome, amazing, patient man, wise teacher and kind lover.

Gotta goooooooooo!

Night night.

First triple digits today in… however long it’s been. It just crept up to 100 today.

Adventures in “Transition” Foods

A timeline…

  • 1994 – People think I’m a vegetarian because they never see me eat meat. That’s just because I wasn’t really big on processed meat. You could sure find me eating steak or chicken now and then at home.
  • 1995 – “Mom, you don’t cook with love. What’s this food out of a box? Only cereal should come in boxes.”
  • 2003 – Started getting free range eggs and quit eating chicken due to the fish-like smell of factory chicken. Tried organic jam and thought it was the slam.
  • 2006 – Starting cutting out HFC, as much a possible. I have yet to find an acceptable substitute for chocolate syrup. I tried one sweetened with cane juice, and it didn’t have the right texture.
  • 2007 – Tried to get organic as much as I could afford to. Organic milk started to have a noticeably better taste. Began eating smooties for breakfast almost everyday.
  • 2008 – Was too poor for fruit smoothies. Had to switch to banana and peanut butter.
  • 2009 – Got really big on the “grow your own”, farmers’ markets, and CSAs. Moved to California. Experienced phenomenal improvement in health. Weened myself off of all prescription medication. Discover Lara bars. Who knew I could eat dates?
  • 2010 – Brief stint in Kentucky. Health seemed to deteriorate. More determined than ever to only eat whole, organic foods I prepared myself. Return to California and vow to never go back east of the Mississippi, well, maybe to visit, maybe.
  • 2011 – Join CSA. Save bundles on food. Acne clears up, mostly. Discover almond milk as a way yummier non-GMO alternative to soy milk. Zakary’s raw February inspires me.

Okay, so I finally finally got a juicer. I think I wanted one before Zakary did his raw food adventure, but I thought, “It’s too expensive… It’s too messy… I’m too lazy….” But after joining the CSA I just had loads and loads of produce, especially apples and carrots. I’ve only juiced 4 days so far, but I think I’m like addicted.

So then Zakary posts this video one of his friends made and I am like, “Damn! I need a dehydrator!” I wanted to make a solar one for the balcony, but I am waiting to get the book from the library. No sense buying it. I’m still poor…. still need clothes and cavities filled, so….

Now I just got a Ronco 1993 model 187-04 dehydrator.

But okay, the vegan carrot cookies were good. Soup I tried to make with the carrot, celery, broccoli pulp, eh…. Using the apple and plum pulp in my smoothie as a banana substitute gets a thumbs up.

Jeremy likes juicing too, and we want to get a higher end one so we can juice leaves.

I also got a food chopper. I was misinformed that it was a processor, so I dunno, I like my knife for chopping and mincing. But you can’t make Lara bars or crackers that way, which is why I wanted one, because you also can’t do that in a blender.

So the rest of my little soul family has been on my mind so much the past couple of days. I am thinking about picking up the phone and calling them both. Even though I haven’t in  over two years. Even though I feel stupid because I know they love me and I don’t want to be a distraction to them, or sidetrack myself. But I miss them so much and I feel so compelled to remind them in the “real world” how much I love them. I feel like I need some kind of affirmation or approval. I mean, really this morning, it’s like every single memory I ever had of Emily flooded me. If I am feeling so fragile and raked over the coals right now, how must she feel? Because I feel she embodies a lot more feminine energy than I do.

Or just, like a year ago, I remember how much I wanted this unity consciousness, but now I feel like I am in a tumbler. I feel like I am feeling their feelings and I know they are feeling mine and there is no privacy and I feel so very very uncomfortable around other people. When I am transparent, I feel misunderstood or at least only partially understood by other people and then, on top of that I feel like they’re not ready to be transparent to the people I interact with here.

Two years ago “transmutation” was the buzz word, but now I feel like I am above that frequency, or beyond it, not above. I mostly exist in another world. Time has become almost completely meaningless this week. I would not be surprised at all if next week I just end up walking in the forest and end up finally getting home. What will that look like to 3-D?

Jeremy transmutates and translates for me in the real world and I am lucky enough to work with high vibrational people, so that if I focus really, really hard, we can communicate and work as a team.

Also, even though I never had much control over what was going to happen, I had a pretty good idea of what was happening and what was going to happen. With this dissolution of time, I have much more control (hello juicer, dehydrator, and chopper!) but absolutely no freaking clue when or how anything will manifest. Guess I don’t know myself as well as I should, and maybe this is my need to talk to Adam and Emily is because they know me, strange as that may seem.

I almost made a much longer loop today and was thinking about Mt. Shasta and McCloud (and Etna and Eureka and Willow Creek) because I want to talk to Zak too. I just want some face time with someone who gets it and gets me.  I left Weaverville (bonus medicinal plant workshop with Ted Dawson this afternoon) with the intention of letting Spirit guide my adventure. I ended up taking some crazy county route dirt road to French Gulch. I love how I can disappear into the forest with less than an hours’ drive. I can be completely alone in nature, with break-taking vistas before me. It’s so awesome! It’s the vastness and solitude that amazes me.

Hang on for night 4. I seem to be doing better during the “nights” of Carl Calleman’s 9th wave Mayan calendar. It’s like so far the days have just blasted me and then during the nights I can process it a little, maybe. Pretty much, I think I lost my mind some time ago.

So… now I’m back to the mattress manifestation (and single family home and kitties and garden and living in Dunsmuir).

(I may be back to edit this later. I’m not sure if it makes any sense.)

Weaverville

I had planned to get there around 10:30. I don’t think I can bear being in public alone. I want to stay home and futz in the kitchen.

I feel so…. overwhelmed. Like I’m supposed to be the expert, but I’m going to learn. I know nothing. I was invited and so to show my good faith effort to build working relationships, even though I’m socially inept and having major personal/spiritual/health issues… If only Jeremy were here and he could go with me. It’s so much easier, because then I’m not being bombarded by everything. Hmmm… pretty sad when your significant other has to become a shield for you to run errands or go out into the world.

I only had a smoothie for breakfast. I should eat something more, but… it’s not in the flow, so it will take more time and only end up upsetting my stomach.

I don’t know what to wear. The weather is so f-ed up right now. It’s like 20 degrees below normal. This weather is typical for October.

I need to summon some mighty courage.

Also…

I still can’t believe that Technics is stopping production on 1200s and 1210s. Is this really true? Will I be the last one alive with a turn table? Surely there is a large enough vanity and audiophile market to keep pressing vinyl and keep manufacturing turntables? Everyone prefers it for their home music system.

Holiday

I did not sing before dinner, that I recall, but I did cry before I went to bed. I slept on the couch, and woke up at 6.

I got a juicer yesterday for $5 and tried it out this morning. I made carrot juice, which is not something to write home about, but it’s not bad either. Then I made cookies from the pulp. I am surely not going to have time to make stuff with the pulp everyday. The cookies took about 2 hours.

In two hours I have to go pick up the chickens from the farm. I don’t know if Jeremy wants me to marinate them right away or not. Before I pick them up I have several cups of salad to consume so that there is room in the fridge for them.

I still don’t know if we are going to Chico and if the kids are coming. I don’t know if I should make more food for them. I was thinking of making apple/celery salad, but I only have fiji apples, which are really not the best for eating. I know that Caleb liked my brownies, but I don’t know if they will like my cookies and I was thinking of making pizza crust or foccacia dough this afternoon to make for them tomorrow. I also don’t know if I should wash out my swimsuit and beach towel, if we are going swimming. Or if Jeremy’s sister and her family or his mom are coming.

I don’t know if Jeremy wants me to help him with his E.A.

I’ve been bagging artifacts all morning while waiting for the cookies to bake. I’m really tired.

From the Heavens She Came

In my dream, there was a giant bird, at least with a giant windspread, I was in what looked like my parents’ yard, but I’d also been convinced in my mind that I was still somewhere at home… anyhow, back to the action. The wingspan of this bird blocks out the sun above. Everyone was wowed. My mom, my sister were out there, Teagan, and I felt like someone Dustin or Ben had introduced me to from Happy Camp. My dad, Jeremy, Liz, Taylor, and the girls were staying somewhere in the house or nearby but weren’t outside. The bird began swooping down, and as it got closer and closer, I put my arms up  to protect my neck and crouched down. This enormous black bird landed on me, but did not attack me. The man from Happy Camp was like, “That’s very sacred.” I was debating releasing the bird at the lake (Lake Michigan) or going up to Keswick dam (!?!) to release her, but a severe thunderstorm was impending. We could already see the clouds darkening the sky and feel the wind begin to shift.

After deciding that I could not release the bird as seemed proper to me, the bird still clung to my presence and draped herself around my shoulders, transforming from a condor to a creature slightly more elegant with an incredible black and red design on her back feathers.

Upon waking I feel as though it’s a condor-phoenix symbol. The most powerful moment in the dream is when the bird swooped down and “chose” me, rather than my adoptive son. Together the bird changed me into a powerful shaman through her symbolism and I changed her from a carrion-eater, reliant upon flesh, to a mythical phoenix and symbol of rebirth.