*
So, a quiet day at home. Retrenching. Wound-licking, but only for a little while. Took the dog out to Lone Palm for a walk on the cliffs in the brilliant sunshine and cold wind and the scrubbed-world cleanliness feeling of the day after a storm.
Big white clouds in a blue sky. Andrew Wyeth scrub grasses and wind-tossed sparrows in them. Fat sea lions sunning on the wet black rocks and back-lit cormorants spreading their wings to dry above them.
Great crashing waves. A blue Heron that takes off lazily when the dog gets too close, four flaps of his wide, angular wings and he’s fifty yards away. A pair of egrets up on the hill in weddingdress white, unconcerned.
My own dark shadow on the ground in front of me, keeping a kind of company.
It is the best thing to do when your soul needs feeding.
Get thee to the sea.


*

My aunt was telling me about her practice. She lives on a Gompa up in the Northern California woods. She’s spent years in silent retreat, wrestling with her own dark adversaries.
Anyway, she’s doing this practice where she meditates on this woman with a necklace of skulls, a bowl made from the top of a human skull filled with sloshing red blood. Her fierce face is black and blue and she’s standing on a dead body, her ego. Big sword in her other hand, raised behind her head, ready to strike.
Ugly, fierce, deadly, monstrous.
Inside her heart is a small, beautiful goddess.
Buddha nature.
Her energy is awareness.
See it. Know it. Watch it all.
*
It’s not very smarmy.
I like it.
A lot.
*
I must have her tell me more about it.
*
Although my little ship of state got rocked pretty good the last few days, the leaks she sprung are small and I have already bailed out the bilge and picked up the books and foodstuffs that got strewn about the cabin and I’ve unbattened the hatches and I’m going topside now to hoist the main and get her back on course.
The goddamn storms are half the reason we go to sea, you know.
***
Namaste.
I am grateful to you for coming by and saying what you think.
May you be happy and at peace.
***
PS-
When my wife gets home, I’m taking her to the Library of Congress.
It’s my favorite library.
*
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