The Ashram

I stayed at the Ashram in Crestone, Colorado, the day after Christmas. The Sangre de Christo mountains were beautifully frosted with snow, and the San Luis Valley was expansive and barren. I learned many things about Hindu as a religion, and participated in a fire ceremony honoring the New Moon and giving thanks for the blessings we've accumulated over the years. It was an amazing experience.

2009

I'm reminded as I gather here with friends, my family, that love is a stronger bond than any other scientific or religious bond proven or theorized. I'm with friends now, my adopted family. My love is sleeping in the basement. Times are good. The insults and jokes and slander is flying, and life is beautiful. And now I'm a schmuck... number 7. That is all.

My home...

I've only recently figured out how to easily post on my blog with my portabizzle... this is the inside of my house. It's the last day of 2008, quarter after 4 in the afternoon.

Testing...

Here's a cool pic from my mobile computer T-Mobile G1. I took it on Sunday afternoon on the Tucker Trail on North Cheyenne Canyon west of Colorado Springs.

Windy, yet Beautiful in Boulder

I stayed at Ryan's last night and woke up around 6 this morning to make a quick attempt at climbing Green Mountain in Boulder. It was a very pretty little jaunt, although, due to my own time constraints, we didn't summit. No worries, though. There was a few inches of very powdery snow once we got up into the valley a ways, but the sky was blue and the wind from the west was fierce. It makes me want to climb things again in a fevered pitch.

Making Faces

I lay here, waking up from a sleep that started what seemed to be much to early, on a spare bed in a spare room in a friend's house. The weather isn't unpleasant out yet, although this weekend is supposed to be a killer. I lay here thinking of earlier today when I was making this stupid face to Ryan... this stupid face where it looked like I had no chin. Easy to say with his being the size of a small state. But pondering this in my sub-awake state, I have to ask how much of my life is a stupid face and how much is just my face? How much is just me making a statement or a scene and how much is reality, pure and simple? I think we generally put to much stock in what could or should be instead of just accepting qwhat is and what can be. The deference in could and should versus can is that could and should imply difficulty between what is now and what we lust after. What can is a simple acknowledgement that things, ideas, goals exist that we have not yet touched. They're just out there, waiting to share themselves with us like food on a shelf at the market, waiting to be chosen to nourish our souls with their energy, their essense for being. I sometimes feel like that sharing is similar to how we are chosen for consumption by this world, this universe, this God, that we are tested and poked and checked every day to see how ripe we are, to see if we're fit to bring to the table. What kind of face are you wearing? What kind of skin are we showing? Does our navel smell of melon?

I love waking up and thinking of silly things.

The Cold...

I'm finding that my shoulders and hips are paying for me curling up in fetal position on my 4" foam mattress. Maybe I should invest in some more blankets to keep me warmer. Last night, the cold was nipping at my feet. I wasn't uncomforable. I slept soundly until just before my alarm went off. When I woke up, though, I noticed the soreness if a body that is used to sleeping sprawled out on it's stomach. It's funny to me that when it's cold, my issue is not being able to sleep on my belly, not that it's too cold.