Highway 1

 

Big Sur Sunset 

Photo by Linda Sonrisa

highway one

 

There is a road / no simple highway / Between the dawn and the dark of night / And if you go /  no one may follow / That path is for your steps alone.

Big Sur

Ventana Wilderness

Photo by Stan Russell

Sunset

Sunset at Big Sur last night by Libby Pink

Dreamwork

I had a vivid dream last night. This morning I hear the echo of Fritz Perls going: “Make sure you take ownership of the different parts of your dream.”

The dream: I pull off of the 605 freeway ..park in a gravely construction yard and walk toward a trailer-office. Inside, there’s a guy in his twenties, dressed like a hiker, carrying a gun in a holster. He’s asking the clerk behind the counter for directions .. saying he wants to see more of California ..he turns to me and asks for a ride. I reply (telepathically) “No ..because of the gun that you are carrying.” He relies (telepathically) “Yes you will ..because of the gun that I am carrying.” I concede, thinking “Hey, I’ll make it a trip to Big Sur.” As we head down the 605 freeway, toward the coast ..he asks me why we aren’t heading up the 605, and toward the I5. I say (verbally this time) “Hey ..you want to see California, right ..not just another freeway.” He sits back with a satisfied look on his face. As I’m on that long swooping connector-road at the end of the 605, heading into Long Beach ..we hit traffic and come to a halt. He looks nervous and asks what we’re stopping for. I tell him I’ll go have a look and get out of the car ..surprised that he doesn’t object. Underneath the overpass, I walk into another trailer-office, where a surveillance-team is huddled around a computer. It’s somehow apparent to me that they’re tracking my carjacker, and I feel relieved ..telling them he’s right above us. I climb back into the car, the undercover cops are somewhere behind, and without a word, my carjacker flies out the passenger door ..on a surfboard. As he hovers above the traffic, I ask the cop how he does that. He looks at me and says “we don’t know” and I feel surprised, wondering how come they don’t know that if they’ve had him under surveillance.

Dreamwork: I am the car ..I am the gravely construction yard ..mechanical and characterless. I am the young man ..I am the gun ..calm and controlling. I am the surfboard .. flying unfettered. I am the surveillance-team ..secretly tracking my impulses. I am the cop ..confused and un-comprehending. I am the question ..asking myself how come I don’t know these things about myself. I raise my head up from the desk, and think: “I just might take that trip to Big Sur after all.”

A blurb about dreamwork can be found here ~>Fritz Perls

Esalen journal

Workshop, Oct 10: I’m looking at the fleshy, pale-green leaf of an agave plant ..with the aid of a jeweler’s glass. The idea is to get a different perspective of everyday things then write about them. Agave grows in the canyon where I live. ..but I usually don’t look at them this closely. The leaves have sharp purple edges ..with glassy little diamond-like fangs ..kind of reminds me of sharks teeth. Makes me quiver. When I run my finger over them; they bend like plastic. I say to myself “they may look fierce, but they don’t bite.” I wonder who, or what, they’re trying to scare. I notice dew drops clinging to the sides ..and watch them slide down the leaf and into pools of water at the plants interior. I see fairy-nymphs kneeling down by the pools to gather the water, then ..standing on tip-toes ..they pour it into the plant’s thirsty mouth. I look up and shake my head. I didn’t really see that .. but I thought it. Suddenly more images flash by ..I see a lotus growing out of the mud .. becoming the top of a Hindu temple ..then becoming the artichoke-like statue at the self-realization fellowship (in Encinitas). I tell the images to stop. My eyes enhance the edges of things then my mind takes me for a ride. I look out on the horizon where there’s a hazy line separating the sky and the sea. I notice my eyes starting to enhance the edges again, making the line look sharper and more distinct. I shout “stop” before my mind has a chance to take me for another excursion. I return to the plant and think ..they always look so full and happy ..like the ones in the canyon ..always satisfied ..never demanding.

A bell sounds and everyone starts writing. I decide to write a verse:

On a grassy bluff overlooking the sea
a flower is drinking dew-drop-nectar tea.
“Watch out for the giant agave” I yell,
with it’s razor-sharp teeth
blood-soaked lips
hiding over here ..licking its fingertips.

The instructor says “short but sweet” ..and I'm left wondering if I should have mentioned the part about the fairy-nymphs and all that stuff.

Esalen journal

I’m having breakfast while listening to Tania, a work-scholar from Russia, tell me about her mediation practice. She is drop-dead gorgeous ..with a beautiful accent. I don’t remember a thing she said ..but I do remember the way she repeatedly waved her hand, in kind of a circular motion, to describe how her thoughts go ‘off-track’ while she’s meditating. I believe I told her that mine do too ..but I can’t be sure. Now I' m laughing at something another work-scholar just said. Referring to ‘seminarians’ (like me), he goes: “ ..slap your money down ..turn your life around.” Work-study people live and work here for part of the year, while we (the seminarians) drop by occasionally for therapeutic retreats. I mingle with the work-study people ..even get stoned with them ..and because of my hair and overall appearance, I sometimes get mistaken for one ..so I hear where they’re coming from. Gail, an attractive seminarian from Benedict canyon, took it as an insult ..as if he were saying that we’re stupid enough to believe a trip to Esalen is a life-changing event. I can tell she’s hurt and I try to explain how the work-scholar people often feel like second-class citizens ..cleaning rooms, gardening, that sort of thing. I mean, when you really look at it, we seminarians do tend to socialize primarily amongst ourselves. I’m saying all this stuff until I find out what’s really bothering her ..she came up here looking for a date ..and she thought she was actually having one ..a really good one .. with an attorney from LA (and conveniently close to Benedict canyon no less). But he left last night with a much younger girl he met at the baths. She’s been sitting here chain-smoking for almost two hours. I take this as a sign that it’s time for me to head to the mediation hall and just sit and breathe until it’s time to leave this afternoon.

Workshop

Soo is from Singapore. She tells us that it is not part of her culture to express feelings and opinions so open and freely. Since they’re ‘insubstantial’ and not ‘factual’ ..they’re easy to contradict ..and that makes her feel afraid of looking foolish all the time. She says this workshop was good for her .. hard, but good. Helped her feel that it’s OK to open up. The instructor says that feeling unhurried to speak makes you more receptive to what other people are saying. Artful response I’m thinking. After workshop, Kitty tells me that the instructor feels like the workshop was a failure. I go “..really, she told you that ?” (I certainly didn’t feel like it was a failure) “No” she says “.. but you heard her .. she said she may not give this workshop again.” Yeah, I heard her say that ..but I took it to mean that she was moving on ..and letting us know she’ll be doing something different in the future. I’m suddenly reminded of what Soo said ..opinions are easy to contradict. However, I don’t think that contradictions are so bad ..we often express opinions to solicit other people’s point of view and see if what we think has any validity ..I guess that way we don’t have to wait around until all the ‘facts’ are in. But, hey .. that’s just my opinion.

It’s a friggin’ cold and foggy day! I’m heading directly to the hot springs after lunch.

Esalen journal

I took the white-knuckle coastal road to Big Sur last night ..in and out of the blinding fingers of fog. It was freezing but I had the top down anyway ..as well as a hooded-sweatshirt on, plus leather jacket, goggles and gloves ..and the heater cranked way up. This morning I get up, look out the window and see sun shine and blue sky ..I have no idea how long it’ll last. Conditions change so fast. I walk down to the lodge as monarch butterflies and hummingbirds zip by. I sit at the table and eat breakfast (oatmeal, yogurt and figs) with Judy, a therapist from Santa Barbara. She compliments me on my copper jewelry ..says it’s good for cleansing my bioenergy (?) She introduces me to Jon, who is also from Santa Barbara. He fixes old Volvos and sells them to college students real cheap. “It’s high volume” he says. He ought to know ..he’s been the main supplier of wheels to students at UCSB for over 18 years. He has raised a family and already put one daughter through college this way, and I’m thinking ..how admirable this guy is.

Tassajara

The atmosphere is still unstable ~ winds shift and flames whip around the Zen center from all sides ~ things may be quiet on the coast ~ but not for the monks at Tassajara ~ unsure which direction the fire will advance ~ they have strategically placed foam packs and sprinklers on the roof ~ jury-rigged from garden supplies the week before ~ but the fire breaches the perimeter on the north side ~ torching the bird house, a compost shed, a wood shed and the pool bathroom ~ the radio-phone and half of the lower garden are also destroyed ~ the sprinkler system keeps working ~ humidity arrives ~ and the flames retreat ~ sparing the rest of the monastery ~ so the monks take refuge ~ for now anyway.

Click on photo to enlarge.

Reports from Steve Harper on the coast and the monks at Tassajara ~ Photo courtesy of ZenCenter

Frontier logic

When the Big Sur fire burned down to ‘Apple Pie Ridge’ ~ just above town ~ a couple of locals stopped it. The Curtis brothers set a controlled burn which saved their home ~ and created a firebreak that spared the town. A fire captain told them they did a great job ~ a crew chief said their work was ‘awesome’ ~ then a forestry official had them arrested ~ saying only firefighters are allowed to do that. Now, I’m no Joe-Frontiersman ~ but I think the Curtis brothers had it right ~ if there’s a fire threatening my house ~ and no firefighters around to save it ~ I believe that makes me the Deputy.

Raw Footage

Fire update

Steve Harper in Big Sur says that the drizzle they were expecting this morning did not come ~ he’s disappointed but goes on to say: “I ~ as much as anyone ~ knows that nature will do what nature does ~ it’s not personal ~ except for the consequences ..” The Monterey Herald says the Big Sur fire grew significantly overnight ~ a thick blanket of fog and smoke covers the town today ~ and there’s no let-up in sight ~ no more properties were lost but the density of undergrowth keeps the fire moving closer to town ~ “sending forest creatures running to the ocean for cover.” Gordon Wheeler at Esalen says: “Big Sur is not just a place ~ it’s a state of mind ~ a spiritual essence that people feel ~ and that fire cannot destroy.” The monks at Tassajara say the fire hasn't moved much closer to them ~ and it’s a cool morning ~ a fire incident report says: ‘Isolated pockets of surface fire with occasional tree torching and moderate behavior due to higher relative humidity.’ A Zen practitioner says: “..fire has always been part of the karma of Big Sur ..it’s a perpetual cycle of cleansing and renewal.” In Santa Barbara, the sundowner winds arrived last night causing the fire to grow to about 5,400 acres ~ this morning it was so fierce that firefighters had to take refuge in the homes they were fighting to defend ~ it is burning in a canyon full of century old chaparral ~ 15-20 feet tall ~ I like to tell my neighbors we’re breathing the ashes of our ancestors ~ they just look at me funny.

Fire update

The sundowner wind didn’t develop last night ~ thank goodness ~ but the fire doubled in size ~ it’s about 2,400 acres now ~ I detect a slight onshore breeze ~ which is a good sign ~ the weather forecast says that ‘monsoonal moisture’ is a possibility ~ an even better sign ~ I go online to check on my friends in Big Sur ~ Steve Harper says 3 houses were lost last night above Ventana inn ~ and the fire burned down to apple pie ridge ~ but locals managed to stop it ~ then an amazing thing happened, he says ~ the forecast changed drastically from what was predicted ~ and from what is normal ~ to a slight chance of drizzle tonight and tomorrow ~ with marine air coming from the west and northwest ~ which is good new for the folks in Big Sur ~ but bad news for the monks at Tassajara Monastery ~ where the winds could push the fire deeper into the wilderness ~ and closer to them ~ and I’m like ‘sure hope the drizzle Steve sees on the coast travels far enough inland to reach the monastery’ ~ meanwhile, I’m sitting under dark amber-orange smoke ~ that’s billowing ~ getting darker ~ and covering the sky ~ because the wind has shifted direction in the time that I’ve been sitting here ~ it's turned from an onshore breeze into a ‘Santa Ana’ condition ~ blowing from the mountains to the sea ~ and turning daytime into nighttime a lot earlier than usual ~ it looks like Armageddon ~ I am outta here.

Fire update

I’m getting news about the Big Sur fire from a laptop on my deck ~ the Monterey Herald says hundreds have fled their homes as flames blaze out-of-control ~ my friend Steve Harper says neighbors were calmly evacuated so fire fighters could do a controlled burn ~ another friend, Bill Herr, says he could see flames above Esalen for the first time ~ and an occasional pine combust into a tower of fire ~ and John Callaghan just learned that sheriffs have served mandatory evacuation orders ~ everybody must be out by 6 in the morning ~ and at Tassajara, monks say the fire is still burning but hasn’t gotten any closer ~ I look away from the laptop ~ and realize the sun has been blotted out by a dark shade of amber ~ and I’m like what the fuck ~ I shake my head hoping my eyes are playing tricks on me ~ showing after-images of the Big Sur fire that I’ve just spent the morning watching ~ no such luck ~ I call Michael who says there’s a fire burning above Santa Barbara ~ Glen Annie Canyon in Goleta to be exact ~ and a Sundowner wind is expected tonight ~ like a Santa Ana wind in LA ~ it’ll blow hot air and fire out of the canyons and down the coastal side of the mountains where all the homes are ~ so it looks like I’ll be spending the night tracking wind reports ~ because I certainly won’t be getting any sleep.

Image: Smoke over rooftops in Santa Barbara

Fire on the mountain

My sanctuary is under fire ~ and if the wind changes direction ~ it’ll be toast. Tassajara is a Zen monastery located in the Big Sur wilderness ~ 14 miles from the nearest paved road ~ and surrounded by the Los Padres National Forest ~ which is on fire right now. I’ve been receiving messages over the Internet from people who live nearby. Apparently evacuation orders were issued ~ but the monks chose to stay ~ setting up barricades ~ and a sprinkler system ~ among other things. So, the local sheriff asked them to provide the names of their dentist ~ for identification ~ and a team of firefighters has taken up residence ~ being fed in the monastery kitchen ~ mainly rice and vegetables. Although Buddhist monks are known for self-sacrifice ~ they’re no fools ~ if things get too dangerous they’re going to bail alongside the firefighters ~ none of them wants to risk their life to save a building ~ that’s not where they’re at. Nevertheless, my heart grieves ~ admittedly for the loss that I may suffer ~ but also for the residents of Big Sur who have already lost their homes. One person I heard from says that my other sanctuary ~ the Esalen Institute ~ is safe for now ~ even so ~ they’ve been ordered to evacuate as well.

Click on photo to enlarge

Photo courtesy of ZenCenter

Big Sur Wilderness

Re-entry

Time expands ..and I expand with it ~ breathing deeper ~ thinking clearer ~ speaking freer and listening longer ~ until a scheduled event approaches ~ like workshop time ~ meal time ~ or checkout time ~ then time compresses ~ and my breath becomes shallow ~ my mind races ~ my throat constricts ~ and I feel cramped and awkward ~ well, not anymore ~ I tell myself “fuck workshops ..meals ..and checkout” ~ I’ve never been jailed for truancy ~ gone hungry ~ or been charged an extra day for hanging out too long ~ I go to the round house ~ where there’s a different meditation guide ~ I listen closely ~ he reminds me of my own zen instructor ~ I follow what he says ~ I lean my upper body back and forth ~ feeling heaviness and tension in my abdomen and hips ~ then upright until I feel lightness ~ I lean my head back and forth ~ feeling heaviness turn into lightness ~ I feel my breath rise up ~ and lift my shoulders ~ next, I notice how my attention is like a flashlight ~ shining on my thoughts ~ although it is not my thoughts ~ shining on the space around me ~ although it is not the space ~ shining on the sound of his voice or the stream ~ although it is not the voice or the stream ~ ~ I play with the flashlight for a while ~ then gently bringing it back to the present moment ~ as the session ends ~ and I re-enter ordinary consciousness ~ the guide suggests that I pay attention to my ‘inner narrative’ ~ noticing the way I narrate my day.

I stay mindful of my inner narrative for as long as I can ~ I notice that it’s like a dialogue ~ I create a mental ‘instance’ of myself ~ that says “let’s go to the baths ..let’s go to the lodge ..look at the surface of that ocean” I create another ‘instance’ of myself ~ a critic ~ going “it’s too late for the baths ..too crowded in the lodge ..and the ocean looks like sludge” ~ the first ‘instance’ of myself goes “no, don’t say that ..it looks calm and peaceful” ~ sometimes I notice that the dialogue isn’t with me but with someone else ~ that's scary ~ I still create a mental ‘instance’ of myself ~ but an instance of somebody else as the critic ~ someone like my dad ~ my physical therapist ~ or some other authority figure ~ and we get into these arguments ~ like “it isn’t too expensive ..yes it is ..no it isn’t” ~ or ~ “I’m not wasting my time ..yes you are ..no I’m not” ~ and on and on ~ I’m reminded of a technique used in Gestalt therapy that might help settle matters ~ the way it works is that I retell the narrative ~ from the perspective of each person in the narrative ~ so, for instance ~ I become my dad ~ and tell myself what he is trying to tell me ~ with the idea that each person I create in the dialogue is really an aspect of myself ~ and a voice that I need to reclaim ~ in order to stop my mind from quarreling ~ and maybe get some peace around here.

Esalen

I’m floating in a pool of hot water ~ gazing out across the surface where the edge seems to blend seamlessly into ocean water ~ I lift my gaze, look out over the ocean and see the horizon ~ where a sunset is turning the sky burnt orange and ultraviolet ~ I’m feeling no pain ~ thinking “there’s some things no one can explain” ~ when suddenly somebody says “hey, you’re from Santa Barbara ..aren‘t you?” I roll over ~ turn around ~ and there’s a boy ~ no older that 20 ~ who, I swear, I’ve never seen before ~ he goes “you’ve been here for a while ..haven’t you ?” “ummm, yea, kinda’ ..I left and came back” “you were in Santa Cruz ..right?” “uh huh ..” and I’m thinking I’m about to be told my astrological forecast or something ~ he goes “you work in an academic field ..don’t you ?” “Yeah, sorta ..” and he goes “See, I remember” ~ me, I have no clue ~ but I recognize the accent ~ “you’re from Boston ..aren‘t you ?“ “yes I am ..” “south side ..right?” “yea ..how did you know ?” Now I feel like I caught up (!?) and he goes “what’s your field again ..?” “umm, cognitive psychology” immediately realizing I said to much ~ “what’s that ?” “umm, study of how people process information” hoping that clears it up ~ “exactly how do people process information ..?” I detect a faint trace of sarcasm ~ “uhh, different ways ..” not sure I want to go any further ~ he says “isn’t that the problem, you dice it up like that ..and lose sight of the big picture” ~ seeing that he wants to have a serious discussion ~ I gather up my wits and say “I agree ..we’re just chipping away at it ..I’m not sure we’ll ever get the big picture ..not in my lifetime anyway” ~ and I start to chuckle ~ “no no no no no no ..you do get the big picture when you stop analyzing it that way ..don’t you think we all share the same mind ?” first, I think of Jung’s principle of ‘collective unconscious’ ..then Buddhist principles of ‘interdependence’ ~ and go “you’re right ..I believe we share a higher consciousness ..just kinda’ hard to approach it intellectually” ~ and I think ~ now maybe if we both shut up and watch the sunset we’ll catch a glimpse of it ~ and he goes “no no no no no no .. doesn’t matter how you approach it ..we are all instruments of God ..and when we speak his word ..we all share his presence.” Now I’m thinking of a tactful way to escape ~ I really don’t want to spend my last night at Esalen like this ~ I go “hey man, I gotta’ go see if there’s any dinner left” and he goes “yeah, me too.”

Back to Esalen

On the road through Monterey ~ I’ve got the top down ~ sunscreen on ~ listening to Goo Goo Dolls, Hendrix and Petty ~ passing fields of artichoke and brussel sprouts ~ passing hidden surf spots. In Big Sur ~ on a twisted road ~ high above the ocean ~ sunlight shines through the pines ~ the Dead play rambling tunes ~ that flow like the scenery ~ changing around every turn ~ I arrive at Esalen ~ passing through a redwood portal ~ and follow a path leading down to the baths ~ Chloe greets me there ~ takes me up to the solarium ~ and gives me a massage that turns my body into jello ~ when she asks how I’m doing ~ I try to speak ~ but haven’t stopped drooling.