The Little Bird

A little bird, crashed on the window
Fell to the floor
Dazed and confused
Heart was beating
Wings were broken
Lying helpless
Waiting for nothing
Living in freedom
Dying in freedom

I’m just here
I’m paying attention
Holding him gently
Watching him breathing
Keeping him warm
Keeping him close

The sun went down
And we were all sleeping
I was still praying I would see him at dawn
But I knew he was slipping
Away from this world we cling on to

When the sun returned
I shuffled down stairs
And sitting there quietly
Was the little bird
I softly stroked him
And I opened the doors up
And he flew away

I can tell you my friend
That I’m feeling so happy
And I’m feeling so gently
Because of my friend
In a moment of seeing
In a moment of caring
And paying attention
There was love in the air

He never returned, he flew into freedom
Never saw him again
But he lives in my heartbeat
And he lives in my loving
And he lives in the way that I care for the world.

Bird in Tree

A Crazy Round Trip

Sausalito – Costa Rica – United Kingdom – Stockholm – Sausalito

Today, as I have built some sort of relationship with a few of you, I have decided to share part of our (my wife and I) unfolding adventure that has been happening this year. Why?

Because it has been, and still is, utterly crazy.

San Francisco from Sausalito

We left Sausalito, California, last December after a three month stay determined to live there. Amoda secured a publishing deal with a very prestigious company in Berkeley and this year she had to write THE BOOK!
AND she was going to apply for a long visa so we could stop the three month thing and live in place we are both very drawn to…California.

But when we left California in December last year we were homeless. We had given up our rented apartment here in the UK before we left and so suddenly we were nomadic and wandering and she had the most serious book of her life to write. And the visa to apply for. (If you have ever applied for a visa beyond the tourist visa, particularly for America, you will know what this entails…Its a legal case. It is hard core)

Puriscal, Costa Rica
Costa Rica

We started in Costa Rica for three months. But it was too hot, humid and the sound of cicadas drove us crazy. We were miles from anywhere with no transport and an empty house living in starkness.

It was as though we had been ejected from the Garden of Eden (Sausalito) and became lost in the wilderness. It certainly wasn’t a holiday!

Big Sky Small Boat

We then returned to the UK and found a one room studio in the place we used to live, in Hastings on the south coast. But Amoda couldn’t write in such cramped conditions so she had to find some writing space. (She writes on delicate matters of non duality and deep spirituality and needs as close to silence to contemplate) Trusted House Sitters provided something close by thank goodness.

And then I got sick. We still don’t know why, and I am still carrying the effects, but something happened, maybe a bite or a scratch or something in Costa Rica but over the months from April till now a rash and skin condition descended upon my body that saw me fully covered, peeling, and unbelievable itching. Now it is whelts and weals on my skin. No fever and no illness. I’m not going to show you pictures I will spare you that!

The storm coming
Stockholm Cafe

We spent a month in Stockholm which was a great blessing.
We spent a few weeks north of London which was a great blessing.

And now we have been living in this apartment, sort of, during the last three months or so. It is run down, noisy and in an ugly part of town.

And all the time the book, the book, the book. And all the time the visa, the visa, the visa.

Let me tell you, we are both a couple of sensitive souls. And not young. I’m 57 years old. Doing all this as a young person is one thing. But as an older guy its actually quite tough. And without a base, a foundation, it has been very stressful. It really opened my eyes to what it must be like to have everything taken from you.

Truly, I can only begin to imagine what war must do to people. And the slide into homelessness must be tough.

We have felt like we were swimming across the vast ocean to try and make a dream happen. Some times we felt like we were drowning. We didn’t think we would make it. I have experienced melt down and fear, a kind of existential fear. We had to muster every ounce of strength, trust, persistence and resolve to keep going. But we kept on going.
When you strip yourself down and sacrifice everything, it kind of does something to you. It brings up even more of your stuff. Yes, it triggers you sometimes.

It is a ruthless Zen Teacher. And if you are the kind of person to listen and learn, and one who embraces challenge and life’s instruction, it is so powerful.

Amoda Maa Jeevan – My Wife.

My wife, Amoda Maa Jeevan, is a genius. She is the one who has made all this possible. It is her ‘goat like’ tendencies that start and simply keep going, methodically and thoroughly until the end goal is realised.

On my own I’m not like this at all. I’m a creative mess, a feather in the wind. Pisces moon….

And then two weeks ago she actually finished the book!!!!!!!!

And then a week and a half later we were at the US Embassy in London being told, ‘YOU HAVE BEEN SUCCESSFUL IN YOUR VISA APPLICATION.’!!!!!

And we danced from the Embassy much to everyone’s delight. I don’t think they see many mystic crazy folks there, it’s all very serious. Even the armed guards raised a smile when I showed them my delight.

And now here I sit, surrounded by the debris of our deconstruction, with, get this, only two weeks left before we get on the flight to return to Sausalito in California.
There are a million things we need to sort out, and when we hit the US a million more to sort out, like somewhere to live, a car, money, tax etc etc…

But don’t let anyone ever tell you that it’s too late, too much, too far, or you are too old, too young, too poor or too rich…Nothing is true on this plane of existence except what we make true.

San Francisco

It is all there. The only problem I can see, generally speaking, is one’s own mind.

cowboy 2 copy
Some Cowboy or other!

The adventure continues.
Thanks for reading you lovely people!!!

strangers or old friends?

if we met,
you and i,
would we stand 
before each other
as strangers 
with our defences
raised high
in protection
ready to shield
against possible

or would we
as old friends
who have
not yet met
and wrap each other
in fond arms
and kind eyes
seeing ourselves
in the other
we are the same one
in a different form?

the truth is
i see you everywhere
all the time
and you
cannot hide
from me
for much longer.

Becoming Porous

In my most difficult moments
I have found that the only way to peace
Is through allowing myself to become porous.
I have found that resistance
To what is, is a direct route to suffering
And if I want freedom
From suffering
At some point I just have to let it
All flow through me like water
And be so unattached
That I almost disappear.
I have tried to fight with what happens
And been left deranged
I have tried arguing with life
As it appears before me
And always lost, so
I change what I can
And the rest
I allow, not begrudgingly
Or reluctantly,
But vibrantly and willingly,
There is no room in my world
For sulking my way through life.

legs in water 2 copy


The End of All Stories

The pull to fear and shrinkage, to judgment,
To retraction and ultimately to suffering
Is so strong it forces me
To take great mastery of myself
And be tuned in to my habitual thoughts
Each and every moment, over and over.

Vigilance is my best friend
But not the kind of armed vigilance
Of a prison guard, fearful of attack,
But the benevolent vigilance
Of a wise master
Who only has my best interest at heart.

Ruthless, compassionate vigilance,
That is intolerant of stories
Of poor me and oh woe is life.

Mastery takes years
And is only achieved one
Moment at a time.

Such is the beginners mind.

The path of compassionate vigilance
Is a choice.
Peace is not guaranteed by an experience
Of enlightenment.

You must still walk the path,
And fall from grace
Dust yourself down
And walk on.

A scene from Puriscal, costa Rica
A scene from Puriscal, costa Rica