This is the comment I imagine leaving at the end of the Esalen seminar I really want to attend but cannot afford at the moment:
**********
I remember when Esalen was a place for Heart centered living.
A place to heal and to find limits and bolt beyond them.
A community where ethical explorers created massage and psychic modalities,
Grew healthful food and medicine beyond the shackles of Big Agra and Pharma,
A place too far South and far too beautiful for the religious and political police to patrol.
A shinning community on a hill-- A hope for the world.
Now it is just a run down spa with a bitchy office staff.
...but the DJs are good. And the poets. And the dancers. And the gardeners. And the cooks. And the people cleaning and groundskeeping with light in their eyes...and no one hugs like the people of Esalen.
***********
Friday, January 11, 2013
Friday, October 12, 2012
First of all I want to thank you all for wishing me and my pharmacist colleagues a Happy Pharmacist appreciation month. That kind of thanks really feels great. We spend 8 years in school, borrow six figures to do it and stand all day scrutinizing sanscrit and heiroglyphic prescriptions for interactions to save lives. And looking at sores, rashes and cuts and talking about laxatives. So thank you. The flowers, the Starbucks gift cards, wine...all of it. Thank you...makes it all worth while.
This morning a nurse called in a prescription for a patient last name of "Laughter'" and I jokingly said "Laughter has not been in this pharmacy for a long time." I went three years without hearing it at one job. The harried nurse began to argue, gave me the birthday and curtly exclaimed that this was the patients regular pharmacy. "Yes Mam" and I took down the prescription. "Thank you Mam."
Back to assembly line "healthcare."
Next a patient came in and requested a vaccination. She argued over the cost and insurance billing vociferously for a few minutes. She really leaned in to my tech--probably the friendliest man I have ever met. It was getting heavy and I thought about calling the police.
As she went into the waiting room the next two ladies-- one in a wheel chair-- began to mock her. In a way I could not even dream of doing. And then these infirm ladies began to cackle. A cackling that maniacle witches around a cauldron might cackle in the midnight hour after casting a most diabolical spell. And then giggling-- like those furry laughter toys. The ones that children like to activate over and over again and they just can't stop.
I t
d i d
n o t
s t o p.
The pharmacy staff began to get nervous...what the heck was going on out there? We could not help but smile. And the line at the pick up window-- 5 deep and dour-- began to crack and smile too. A giggle-fest was errupting. Like those pre-teens at camp. And then rapidly spreading down the dental care aisle. From the floss all the way to the Dr. Scholls foot care section people were looking up and smiling. Smiles. Triumphant. Abounding. Asthmatics began to gasp for air between big belly laughs. The lady in the wheelchair needed help to right herself. Was the flat affect schizophrenic who waits solemnly by the vitamins until all are gone to get his meds actually cracking a smile too? Except for him***EVERYONE*** was laughing. Some uncontrollably.
I thought I would have to call the paramedics....as one of the older ladies might have broken a rib. It was out of control laughter like I have NEVER heard in 15 years of pharmacy work.
Totally made my day.
Made my pharmacy month.
No one has actually wished me a happy pharmacy month. No flowers, Starbucks cards nor wine. But am so grateful for today's experience that I would like to invite you, should you find yourself in a dour pharmacy line to tell some jokes and bring some levity. Laughter is so rare in the pharmacy and it was a great gift today. And I'll make a plea also to please call three days ahead for your meds-- it's the only way it works smoothly these days. New motto: "Down to 3? Call the Pharmacy!" And if your medicine is helpful or life saving...please consider wishing the staff a happy pharmacy month.
Happy October.
This morning a nurse called in a prescription for a patient last name of "Laughter'" and I jokingly said "Laughter has not been in this pharmacy for a long time." I went three years without hearing it at one job. The harried nurse began to argue, gave me the birthday and curtly exclaimed that this was the patients regular pharmacy. "Yes Mam" and I took down the prescription. "Thank you Mam."
Back to assembly line "healthcare."
Next a patient came in and requested a vaccination. She argued over the cost and insurance billing vociferously for a few minutes. She really leaned in to my tech--probably the friendliest man I have ever met. It was getting heavy and I thought about calling the police.
As she went into the waiting room the next two ladies-- one in a wheel chair-- began to mock her. In a way I could not even dream of doing. And then these infirm ladies began to cackle. A cackling that maniacle witches around a cauldron might cackle in the midnight hour after casting a most diabolical spell. And then giggling-- like those furry laughter toys. The ones that children like to activate over and over again and they just can't stop.
I t
d i d
n o t
s t o p.
The pharmacy staff began to get nervous...what the heck was going on out there? We could not help but smile. And the line at the pick up window-- 5 deep and dour-- began to crack and smile too. A giggle-fest was errupting. Like those pre-teens at camp. And then rapidly spreading down the dental care aisle. From the floss all the way to the Dr. Scholls foot care section people were looking up and smiling. Smiles. Triumphant. Abounding. Asthmatics began to gasp for air between big belly laughs. The lady in the wheelchair needed help to right herself. Was the flat affect schizophrenic who waits solemnly by the vitamins until all are gone to get his meds actually cracking a smile too? Except for him***EVERYONE*** was laughing. Some uncontrollably.
I thought I would have to call the paramedics....as one of the older ladies might have broken a rib. It was out of control laughter like I have NEVER heard in 15 years of pharmacy work.
Totally made my day.
Made my pharmacy month.
No one has actually wished me a happy pharmacy month. No flowers, Starbucks cards nor wine. But am so grateful for today's experience that I would like to invite you, should you find yourself in a dour pharmacy line to tell some jokes and bring some levity. Laughter is so rare in the pharmacy and it was a great gift today. And I'll make a plea also to please call three days ahead for your meds-- it's the only way it works smoothly these days. New motto: "Down to 3? Call the Pharmacy!" And if your medicine is helpful or life saving...please consider wishing the staff a happy pharmacy month.
Happy October.
Saturday, July 14, 2012
I met that Girl.
That girl that grapples and dances and makes love to the Freedom that me and most I know are afraid to acknowledge.
She makes a lot of noise...sometimes I am embarrassed to hear it, I blush. Part of me might want to ask her to be quiet...but my soul knows I won't hear that wisdom from anyone else...it is pretty sweet, pretty deep.
That grrrl has the most beautiful earlobes. Damn. I could nibble on those all night.
When she does it, she over does it, that's how she knows she's alive.
Her words are like those papers in the corners of my room I've been meaning to pick up...but also avoiding. For weeks. Somehow I can't see them. Then, picked up..."those tickets! Awesome!" SO glad I found them.
That girl that grapples and dances and makes love to the Freedom that me and most I know are afraid to acknowledge.
She makes a lot of noise...sometimes I am embarrassed to hear it, I blush. Part of me might want to ask her to be quiet...but my soul knows I won't hear that wisdom from anyone else...it is pretty sweet, pretty deep.
That grrrl has the most beautiful earlobes. Damn. I could nibble on those all night.
When she does it, she over does it, that's how she knows she's alive.
Her words are like those papers in the corners of my room I've been meaning to pick up...but also avoiding. For weeks. Somehow I can't see them. Then, picked up..."those tickets! Awesome!" SO glad I found them.
Sunday, June 10, 2012
I am a burper and a yawner...
I attended a SoulMerging event this weekend. The goals of attendees included: to bring in light and transmute emotional wounding and to share light information and to create a vortex of streaming love that would keep a flowing stream for each of us and ripple out.
As the room got "cooking" as Dr Frank likes to say people began to emote. As the the vortex moved and connected us the three adjacent ladies to me began to weep. And then laugh. And cough and sneeze and dry heave and honk. It was remarkable. Most had a signature sound. Mascara everywhere. Tissues flying out of the box to soak up fluids like as if at an allergy clinic by the botanical gardens in Springtime. And when the meditation was over it all stopped. Just smiles. And great hugs.
I know a high priestess who transmutes and burps as she does it. Her family believes she has a gastroenterologic condition. And hanging out with her after ceremony on the solstice eclipse I expect she could give a Frat house some competition. I knew another psychic healer in Hawaii who was a yawner. She would start moving someone's energy and and "Whoooooo, yaaaawnnn..." She couldn't stop.
I find this so amusing that the body finds some way to communicate the movements of energy. Glad I suppose. Glad it is not flatulence for anyone I know!
I did burp a tad and yawn a bit...but that could be because I gulped down breakfast and avoided coffee.
Energy work feels so good to me but seems so crazy at the same time.
...Belch....Excuse me.
As the room got "cooking" as Dr Frank likes to say people began to emote. As the the vortex moved and connected us the three adjacent ladies to me began to weep. And then laugh. And cough and sneeze and dry heave and honk. It was remarkable. Most had a signature sound. Mascara everywhere. Tissues flying out of the box to soak up fluids like as if at an allergy clinic by the botanical gardens in Springtime. And when the meditation was over it all stopped. Just smiles. And great hugs.
I know a high priestess who transmutes and burps as she does it. Her family believes she has a gastroenterologic condition. And hanging out with her after ceremony on the solstice eclipse I expect she could give a Frat house some competition. I knew another psychic healer in Hawaii who was a yawner. She would start moving someone's energy and and "Whoooooo, yaaaawnnn..." She couldn't stop.
I find this so amusing that the body finds some way to communicate the movements of energy. Glad I suppose. Glad it is not flatulence for anyone I know!
I did burp a tad and yawn a bit...but that could be because I gulped down breakfast and avoided coffee.
Energy work feels so good to me but seems so crazy at the same time.
...Belch....Excuse me.
Sunday, March 11, 2012
The Camaldoli Charisma
I have been searching for a balance of community and solitude. For God and life.
There is a group of guys down the coast doing just that.
The Camaldoli.
They have been doing it since the 11th if not the 3rd century.
"But Junai"--you say--"you are such a New Age Guy. With years of science under your belt and still simmering contempt for centuries of brutal crime, war, genocide, and financial chicanery of the church all based on superstition and lies."
Yes it is true. I know the Bible is based on an amalgam of Bronze Age stories. I was an altar boy. I was recognized with the Religious Studies award in High School. I began college studying Comparative Religion at UCSB before changing to Global Peace and Security and Pharmacology. I am familiar with Astrotheology and Shamanism.
I look at how much has changed in my lifetime. Mass was in Latin when I was born-- now English. The concept of "Hell" has been obliterated. Mary Magdalene is no longer a prostitute. Aliens are not inconsistent with the bible. The Church is no longer a haven for pederasts. All that in a generation. Who knows what may follow.
And there are timeless endeavors within cloistered pockets that seem to me beyond the bloody and sullied history of the scaffolding of the Church.
The Camaldoli/Benedictines strive to live in the presence of God. They chant Psalms.
To worship in gratitude in community and to garden and write and little creativity...that is all I've ever wanted.
That and a family but that is another post.
There is a group of guys down the coast doing just that.
The Camaldoli.
They have been doing it since the 11th if not the 3rd century.
"But Junai"--you say--"you are such a New Age Guy. With years of science under your belt and still simmering contempt for centuries of brutal crime, war, genocide, and financial chicanery of the church all based on superstition and lies."
Yes it is true. I know the Bible is based on an amalgam of Bronze Age stories. I was an altar boy. I was recognized with the Religious Studies award in High School. I began college studying Comparative Religion at UCSB before changing to Global Peace and Security and Pharmacology. I am familiar with Astrotheology and Shamanism.
I look at how much has changed in my lifetime. Mass was in Latin when I was born-- now English. The concept of "Hell" has been obliterated. Mary Magdalene is no longer a prostitute. Aliens are not inconsistent with the bible. The Church is no longer a haven for pederasts. All that in a generation. Who knows what may follow.
And there are timeless endeavors within cloistered pockets that seem to me beyond the bloody and sullied history of the scaffolding of the Church.
The Camaldoli/Benedictines strive to live in the presence of God. They chant Psalms.
To worship in gratitude in community and to garden and write and little creativity...that is all I've ever wanted.
That and a family but that is another post.
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
I remember when we were in the desert...
We were generals of consciousness
Presiding over the unfoldment of light.
Through the bluster and dust the revelers marched past
While the Mother rebuilt our royal forms from the inside up.
From the vault of heaven I remembered the finest nature of another civilization,
How my mother had feared a new expansiveness inside,
How children crave the connection to source,
or as a substitute anyone still even partially connected,
and settle eventually just for being recognized
and take on a name given.
Oh, how the neurons laugh and play...God bless them.
Thank you for the dance at the nexus of Earth and Light.
Presiding over the unfoldment of light.
Through the bluster and dust the revelers marched past
While the Mother rebuilt our royal forms from the inside up.
From the vault of heaven I remembered the finest nature of another civilization,
How my mother had feared a new expansiveness inside,
How children crave the connection to source,
or as a substitute anyone still even partially connected,
and settle eventually just for being recognized
and take on a name given.
Oh, how the neurons laugh and play...God bless them.
Thank you for the dance at the nexus of Earth and Light.
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Two Trailer Synchronicity
Blazing down to Esalen: to volunteer with cabins, to do some dancing, soaking and connecting with friends and with nature.
Behind two excruciatingly slow unbelievably inconsiderate white RVs. Turn out after turnout they would NOT pull over. I began to pull my hair and gnash my teeth.
No one wants to miss the Cabin's check in...way too much fun.
At last a long curve before the bridge...and no on coming traffic... I screamed around them. Damn that felt great! Now to make some time! I picked up speed as the Highway 1 opened to the straightaway before Andrew Molera State Park and the River Inn.
And Lo-- there was officer stick in the mud. No mercy. I can't believe I was going that fast but he says he clocked me. I was feeling the exuberance of the open road...I am sure I was the first car in 1/2 hour due to those two white snailers.
I have an honest appreciation for law enforcement and the honorable warrior archetype so I thanked him for his work and politely took the ticket. I eased back onto the highway...and behind the two slow RVs.
Please stop for lunch! Please appreciate the magnificent views at any magnificent turnout! Please stop to make a phone call, make love, relieve yourself! Please mister white RV driver. Please!
My ethereal suggestions went unheard. I resigned. Took in the blissful panoramas while driving. Still. A wandering eye on the clock. I was behind those two white RVs all t h e way t o t h e E s a l e n drive way.
Walked into the Lodge and immediately connected with the Cabins Chief. All good.
Went to get in the brunch line and connected with good friend and eco-hero Kat. She invited me to sit right down with another Eco hero Julia Butterfly Hill who would talk about spiritual activation.
Wow. What Divine timing!
Thank you RV drivers!
I essentially heard JBH say that the core of activism is love. The love for nature has to include love for people too. While emotions, bickering and the need to vent are valid they can be viewed as just a trail sign to get back on the way. We are all activists. What we do matters. The crazy things man does are reflections of inner turbulence and so the mission to save the watershed, or keep air breathable cannot disturb our right relations with each other.
This may be news to FOX NEWS. JBH was telling me to be in right relation with all-- even inconsiderate RV convoy drivers.
I heard her invitation to what I'll call "right activism." By her definition we are all activists as what we do matters now more than ever. We only have so much creational energy to spend here in time and space. Best spend it in highest integrity.
I was hearing JBH because of some divine timing of behemoth RV convoy drivers with a little help from the CHP. My desire to be on time to appear a certain way i.e. committed and punctual to my coworkers and supervisor put me in a horn honking state of urgency. I needed to just ride it out, put current relations over my misplaced sense of mission, be in good relations with fellow travelers and have a great day. Interestingly I supervised another volunteer and we did a great job. And I got to do all I wanted at Esalen including have a mini-seminar with a personal hero.
Behind two excruciatingly slow unbelievably inconsiderate white RVs. Turn out after turnout they would NOT pull over. I began to pull my hair and gnash my teeth.
No one wants to miss the Cabin's check in...way too much fun.
At last a long curve before the bridge...and no on coming traffic... I screamed around them. Damn that felt great! Now to make some time! I picked up speed as the Highway 1 opened to the straightaway before Andrew Molera State Park and the River Inn.
And Lo-- there was officer stick in the mud. No mercy. I can't believe I was going that fast but he says he clocked me. I was feeling the exuberance of the open road...I am sure I was the first car in 1/2 hour due to those two white snailers.
I have an honest appreciation for law enforcement and the honorable warrior archetype so I thanked him for his work and politely took the ticket. I eased back onto the highway...and behind the two slow RVs.
Please stop for lunch! Please appreciate the magnificent views at any magnificent turnout! Please stop to make a phone call, make love, relieve yourself! Please mister white RV driver. Please!
My ethereal suggestions went unheard. I resigned. Took in the blissful panoramas while driving. Still. A wandering eye on the clock. I was behind those two white RVs all t h e way t o t h e E s a l e n drive way.
Walked into the Lodge and immediately connected with the Cabins Chief. All good.
Went to get in the brunch line and connected with good friend and eco-hero Kat. She invited me to sit right down with another Eco hero Julia Butterfly Hill who would talk about spiritual activation.
Wow. What Divine timing!
Thank you RV drivers!
I essentially heard JBH say that the core of activism is love. The love for nature has to include love for people too. While emotions, bickering and the need to vent are valid they can be viewed as just a trail sign to get back on the way. We are all activists. What we do matters. The crazy things man does are reflections of inner turbulence and so the mission to save the watershed, or keep air breathable cannot disturb our right relations with each other.
This may be news to FOX NEWS. JBH was telling me to be in right relation with all-- even inconsiderate RV convoy drivers.
I heard her invitation to what I'll call "right activism." By her definition we are all activists as what we do matters now more than ever. We only have so much creational energy to spend here in time and space. Best spend it in highest integrity.
I was hearing JBH because of some divine timing of behemoth RV convoy drivers with a little help from the CHP. My desire to be on time to appear a certain way i.e. committed and punctual to my coworkers and supervisor put me in a horn honking state of urgency. I needed to just ride it out, put current relations over my misplaced sense of mission, be in good relations with fellow travelers and have a great day. Interestingly I supervised another volunteer and we did a great job. And I got to do all I wanted at Esalen including have a mini-seminar with a personal hero.
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