Found Olympic Hot Springs by moonlight last night. Today I toured the "Valley of the Rainforest Giants" - largest trees in the world outside of California! Tonight I'm driving down the Oregon Coast. Tomorrow... Redwoods.

John Olsen teaching primitive pottery. Greg Nunn teaching flintknapping. Cat Farneman teaching medicinal uses of plants. Dave Holladay topping them all with the antics of his primitive gourdworks class (make that art/music/shenanigans class). Slickrock 2008 was as much fun as it was a chance to learn from some true masters of their crafts. By day we learned and worked on projects, by night we feasted and played and danced and told stories around the fire. I especially enjoyed story time. So many great story tellers, so many old (but new to me) stories...

Once the gathering was over and it was back down to just BOSS (Boulder Outdoor Survival School) staff, we returned to getting ready for the season. We talked about where the school has come from and where it is going. We talked about our personal development and goals for the summer. We held competitions for wood carving and fire making. We capped off staff training Thursday with a surprise med rescue simulation.



Now we're making final preparations before our first batch of students arrive tomorrow. The others are in the kitchen right now, making 'rimitive pizzas' (stone-fired with buffalo, mushrooms, onions, & pepper jack). They feed us so good here, all natural and organic. I've built up my body's reserves, and I'm going to need them. Tomorrow I start a 14-day field course. We'll be covering long miles at high altitude on only about 1500 calories/day. The first two days ('Impact Phase' will be even more challenging - we'll carry no food and eat only what we find. After that we'll get the 'luxuries' of a few oats, rice and lentils each day - and a wool blanket! Wool blankets are nice at this altitude, even in summer. It actually snowed some here this week!

So far I know I'll be responsible for our lessons on survival attitude & priorities, bow-drill fires, primitive shelters, crypto-biotic soils, and making cordage from plants. I'm also helping to develop new lessons on weather watching and celestial navigation. Tonight we eat, drink, and make merry. Tomorrow, Darkling Thrush is outward bound - primitive style!

Currently reading : People of the Fire (The First North Americans series, Book 2) By Kathleen O’Neal Gear

Everything feels different here.  I needed this.  Re-centering.  Re-grounding.  "Remembering who I wanted to be."

I showed up just hoping there was room.  A lovely new staff member, possibly sensing my need, invited me to join the (already crowded) full moon sweat lodge.  I prayed to Ray ("everyone is saa-ad and lonely"), to Rumi (we are all reed flutes calling out for return to the one), to Hafiz ("Why not become the one who lives with a full moon in each eye that is always saying, with that sweet moon language, what every other eye in this world is dying to hear?"), and to Michael Franti ("is your love enough, or could you love some more?").  I prayed to live life with fearless humility, compassion, and joy.  I prayed to role model not attaching conditions to my happiness, because beautiful things are happening all around us all the time and life is pretty damn good, when you let it be.  And I gave thanks.  Thanks for having a life full of travel and adventure.  Thanks for having found work that I love, and that I am (at least occasionally) very good at.  Thanks for those who challenge me, who inspire me to grow.  And thanks for those who thank me, who give me the occasional pat on the back, letting me feel appreciated so that I have the energy to do it all over again.

I saw myself as a child climbing trees and looking toward wide horizons, feeling free and limitless possibilities...

We sweated till we were light headed, then made a run for the lake, muddy naked butts running wild through the forest.  We swam and laughed and made our way back to the domes for a home-grown feast, followed by music and dancing around the fire.

I fell asleep on the couch in the common room.  Someone dimmed the lights.  Someone else brought me a blanket and tucked me in.  People tip-toed by so as not to wake me up.

Today I cooked up a big pan of hash browns to share with everyone.  I savored a hot outdoor shower, then went out to the lake with Rumi and a hula hoop.  I ran and I swam and swung in a tree swing.

And I remembered!  the green flowing me I wanted to be!  The me who’s too busy reveling in all the wonders around to share to ever waste time worrying about what he wants but doesn’t have.  And I got happy again.

Life is good, when you let it be.

Currently reading : Essential Rumi By Jalal al-Din Rumi Release date: 10 January, 1997

Came across this again recently, from their September 2001 "Holy Fucking Shit" issue. Sad thing is, it feels as relevant today as it did then, and the century before that, and the century before that...

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God Angrily Clarifies 'Don't Kill' Rule
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www.theonion.com/content/node/28151 

NEW YORK—Responding to recent events on Earth, God, the omniscient creator-deity worshipped by billions of followers of various faiths for more than 6,000 years, angrily clarified His longtime stance against humans killing each other Monday.

 

God.

"Look, I don't know, maybe I haven't made myself completely clear, so for the record, here it is again," said the Lord, His divine face betraying visible emotion during a press conference near the site of the fallen Twin Towers. "Somehow, people keep coming up with the idea that I want them to kill their neighbor. Well, I don't. And to be honest, I'm really getting sick and tired of it. Get it straight. Not only do I not want anybody to kill anyone, but I specifically commanded you not to, in really simple terms that anybody ought to be able to understand."

Worshipped by Christians, Jews, and Muslims alike, God said His name has been invoked countless times over the centuries as a reason to kill in what He called "an unending cycle of violence."

"I don't care how holy somebody claims to be," God said. "If a person tells you it's My will that they kill someone, they're wrong. Got it? I don't care what religion you are, or who you think your enemy is, here it is one more time: No killing, in My name or anyone else's, ever again."

The press conference came as a surprise to humankind, as God rarely intervenes in earthly affairs. As a matter of longstanding policy, He has traditionally left the task of interpreting His message and divine will to clerics, rabbis, priests, imams, and Biblical scholars. Theologians and laymen alike have been given the task of pondering His ineffable mysteries, deciding for themselves what to do as a matter of faith. His decision to manifest on the material plane was motivated by the deep sense of shock, outrage, and sorrow He felt over the Sept. 11 violence carried out in His name, and over its dire potential ramifications around the globe.

 

"I tried to put it in the simplest possible terms for you people, so you'd get it straight, because I thought it was pretty important," said God, called Yahweh and Allah respectively in the Judaic and Muslim traditions. "I guess I figured I'd left no real room for confusion after putting it in a four-word sentence with one-syllable words, on the tablets I gave to Moses. How much more clear can I get?"

"But somehow, it all gets twisted around and, next thing you know, somebody's spouting off some nonsense about, 'God says I have to kill this guy, God wants me to kill that guy, it's God's will,'" God continued. "It's not God's will, all right? News flash: 'God's will' equals 'Don't murder people.'"

Worse yet, many of the worst violators claim that their actions are justified by passages in the Bible, Torah, and Qur'an.

"To be honest, there's some contradictory stuff in there, okay?" God said. "So I can see how it could be pretty misleading. I admit it—My bad. I did My best to inspire them, but a lot of imperfect human agents have misinterpreted My message over the millennia. Frankly, much of the material that got in there is dogmatic, doctrinal bullshit. I turn My head for a second and, suddenly, all this stuff about homosexuality gets into Leviticus, and everybody thinks it's God's will to kill gays. It absolutely drives Me up the wall."

God praised the overwhelming majority of His Muslim followers as "wonderful, pious people," calling the perpetrators of the Sept. 11 attacks rare exceptions.

"This whole medieval concept of the jihad, or holy war, had all but vanished from the Muslim world in, like, the 10th century, and with good reason," God said. "There's no such thing as a holy war, only unholy ones. The vast majority of Muslims in this world reject the murderous actions of these radical extremists, just like the vast majority of Christians in America are pissed off over those two bigots on The 700 Club."

Continued God, "Read the book: 'Allah is kind, Allah is beautiful, Allah is merciful.' It goes on and on that way, page after page. But, no, some assholes have to come along and revive this stupid holy-war crap just to further their own hateful agenda. So now, everybody thinks Muslims are all murderous barbarians. Thanks, Taliban: 1,000 years of pan-Islamic cultural progress down the drain."

God stressed that His remarks were not directed exclusively at Islamic extremists, but rather at anyone whose ideological zealotry overrides his or her ability to comprehend the core message of all world religions.

"I don't care what faith you are, everybody's been making this same mistake since the dawn of time," God said. "The Muslims massacre the Hindus, the Hindus massacre the Muslims. The Buddhists, everybody massacres the Buddhists. The Jews, don't even get me started on the hardline, right-wing, Meir Kahane-loving Israeli nationalists, man. And the Christians? You people believe in a Messiah who says, 'Turn the other cheek,' but you've been killing everybody you can get your hands on since the Crusades."

Growing increasingly wrathful, God continued: "Can't you people see? What are you, morons?
There are a ton of different religious traditions out there, and different cultures worship Me in different ways. But the basic message is always the same: Christianity, Islam, Judaism, Buddhism, Shintoism... every religious belief system under the sun, they all say you're supposed to love your neighbors, folks! It's not that hard a concept to grasp."

"Why would you think I'd want anything else? Humans don't need religion or God as an excuse to kill each other—you've been doing that without any help from Me since you were freaking apes!" God said. "The whole point of believing in God is to have a higher standard of behavior. How obvious can you get?"

"I'm talking to all of you, here!" continued God, His voice rising to a shout. "Do you hear Me? I don't want you to kill anybody. I'm against it, across the board. How many times do I have to say it? Don't kill each other anymore—ever! I'm fucking serious!"

Upon completing His outburst, God fell silent, standing quietly at the podium for several moments. Then, witnesses reported, God's shoulders began to shake, and He wept.

Eight 'troubled teens'. Four dedicated instructors. Four thousand sqare miles of mangroves, sawgrass, cypress hammocks and alligators. Shake thoroughly and serve with generous sides of laughter and sleep deprivation.

We had a young group this time, average age 14. We had a good toneset, but were still pleasantly surprised at how quickly this group bought in to making the most of their Outward Bound experience. They learned to embrace new challenges, laugh in the face of adversity, and have fun in conditions that would have other groups non-stop griping. And they never gave up, even after paddling for six hours one night into the teeth of a vicious tide, passing the same point of land 12 times... When the going got hard, they would tell us, "we can do it!" And they did.

I will never forget our first morning waking up in the narrow "Hell's Bay" mangrove tunnel, leading a group yoga session on our little canoe-raft, only to have a couple of passing paddlers stare at what they must have thought was a mirage ("um, honey - did you see the sign up for the floating swamp yoga class back at the ranger station?"). Or having breakfast during a crazy storm on Highland Beach, with the tarp blowing down around us and palm trees doubling over (we later heard there had been tornadoes in the area), looking out over the storm-tossed sea, laughing about how we would never forget...

Now the kids have flown the nest, and we're back at base debriefing and giving each other feedback. Ideally these sessions help us get even better at what we do. Too often they leave me wondering how I managed to do anything right...

("...never forget...")

("...never forget...")

If I didn't have all these pictures of kids with huge smiles on their muddy faces. If I didn't have kids and parents telling me how grateful they are, and how they're recommending Outward Bound to everyone they know.

Amidst all the constructive feedback, it's important to celebrate our successes.  Helps me not to forget.  Not to give up.  Gives me the courage to do it all over again. 

Currently reading : Basket Case By Carl Hiaasen Release date: 01 January, 2003

When Columbus arrived in the "West Indies", the Calusa were hanging out in the Everglades.  The Spanish, despite two expeditions led by Ponce de Leon, were unable subdue them.  Over the next two centuries, as the Spanish shipped more and more gold stolen from the Aztecs and Incas, pirates hid out in the Everglades and Florida Keys, daring the dangerous Florida Straights to get their share of the booty.  In the early 1800s, refugees from the Creek Indian wars fled into the Everglades, where they were joined by (and sheltered) runaway slaves.  They became known as 'Seminoles', or 'runaways'.  Famous injun killer and genocidal butcher Andrew Jackson tried (as Florida's 1st governor, and later as president) to force them out, but they never surrendered, fighting well into the 1900s before the US finally gave up and let them stay.

This weekend, myself, three other instructors, and ten students of diverse ethnic backgrounds will join this historical line of  proud warriors, refugees, and swashbucklers - we will live in the Everglades for 20 days!  We will paddle through a maze of mangroves, sawgrass, and cypress hammocks, rarely stepping out of our seven canoes for the whole trip.  There's precious little in the way of dry land, so at night we will lash our canoes together to form our own little island and sleep on a platform we build across the top.  By mid-course we'll camp at a beautiful wilderness beach we will have all to ourselves on the Gulf of Mexico.  We will stay there for three nights, then paddle back along the coast to Whitewater Bay, which we must cross (picture the intro to Hawaii 5-0 here, with our canoes lashed together to form catamarans, and all the kids paddling like crazy to make headway in the surf, waves crashing over our boats...) to reach our pickup.

Along the way we will see alligators and crocodiles (the Everglades are home to the only American Crocodiles), sharks and tarpon, eagles and osprey, manatees and dolphins, snowy egrets and great white herons, roseate spoonbills and pelicans...  If we are truly lucky, we may even see a Florida Panther (it is a dream I have).

Final preparations are  underway.  Twenty days in one of the world's truly unique places.  We have one more night of freedom, and then Darkling Thrush is Outward Bound!

Currently watching : The Motorcycle Diaries (Widescreen Edition)

Hanging out at our Key Largo base tonight, watching movies with my instructional team for an Everglades course starting next week.  Last night we watched "Motorcycle Diaries"; tonight it was the 1994 classic "Awakenings".  Do you remember it?  Robert De Niro plays a coma patient who miraculously recovers 30 years later.  He could be bitter, but instead he's too busy dancing, eating, and making up for lost time - and is stunned to see the people around him wasting theirs.  After noticing all the depressing news in the paper, he exclaims:

"They got it all wrong!  Life is good!  Remind them how good it is... People have forgotten what life is all about!"

I often wonder about people who sell their time for money.  I don't mean everyone who works - work is life!  But The Prophet says if  you cannot work with love in your heart then better to be a beggar in the streets.  Those people who spend their lives doing things they hate, or just things that they find utterly unfulfilling - if, at the end of their lives, they found a box on the shelf at Wall Mart with all those lost hours back in the prime of their life, how much would they pay for it?  No matter how rich they've gotten, how much would they give back for those lost hours?

Sometimes I feel like I slept through most of my 20s.  My time ain't for sale no more.

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Quatrains by Rumi
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Today, like every other day, we wake up empty
and frightened. Don't open the door to the study
and begin reading. Take down a musical instrument.

Let the beauty we love be what we do.
There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground.

Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing,
there is a field. I'll meet you there.

When the soul lies down in that grass,
the world is too full to talk about.
Ideas, language, even the phrase each other
doesn't make any sense.

The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you.
Don't go back to sleep.
You must ask for what you really want.
Don't go back to sleep.
People are going back and forth across the doorsill
where the two worlds touch.
The door is round and open.
Don't go back to sleep.

I would love to kiss you.
The price of kissing is your life.

Now my loving is running to my life shouting,
What a bargain, let's buy it.

Daylight, full of small dancing particles
and the one great turning, our souls
are dancing with you, without feet, they dance.
Can you see them when I whisper in your ear?

They try to say what you are, spiritual or sexual?
They wonder about Solomon and all his wives.

In the body of the world, they say, there is a soul
and you are that.

But we have ways within each other
that will never be said by anyone.
Come to the orchard in Spring.
There is light and wine, and sweethearts in the pomegranate flowers.

If you do not come, these do not matter.
If you do come, these do not matter.

Currently watching : Awakenings Rele