4am getting ready

 4am getting ready for the climb, to the top of arunachala. I've been in a delightful state these past two days, filled with a fluidity of motion and acceptance, happy, content, definitely singular. I experience each moment without a connection to the next. doing yoga, meditation, silence, a lot of silence. I feel sometimes the whole space of my life sits neatly between two points of importance, awake asleep. I exist in that little space between. I've been to Varanasi and Rishikesh, definitely beautiful. Rishikesh reminded me of the hilly western Sonoma county. I think the area called Kashmir in the North would be a lovely place to go.of course this time of year its quite cold and wet/snowy. but right now I feel the energy here in tiru as we call it, is building and building. and I have been storing it up like a bear for winter. and now I get this very light and floaty feel to life, like im not here, then something comes along to test me, yesterday my shoes were stolen from my porch and I have to really wonder, as no one comes here, its definitely a karmic purging. I felt upset at first, but then just let go. I have few things, but I guess compared to the average indian, im a millionaire.so I said a prayer for the theif and hoped all would be done. back to my old wornout Kirkland walkers. today is buy a ticket home day. about 6 weeks away. for some reason I resist buying the ticket even though I see the very best deal and time. maybe im just being the endlessness of here and now, resistant to change and necessity, for what seeks its own reward and finds no pleasure in its harvest of broken promises. I am not a thing or a plan or some place to get to. what is clear is the means and the requirements, from that I do or don't as comes to pass and from that I decide what to do, what to feel what I am. for not being someone, some set of actions or non actions, a result of or coming to pass, I cannot see the future any more than I can feel the past. some things are lost to me, like knowing or deciding, I act as the conscious will of a divine being, I accept slowly what comes. unattached you say, unbuckled from the seat belt unplug the airbag, foot firmly on the accelerator. what life brings is what we avoid, the steering wheel is loose and the road wanders, I too find the prospect of dementia uncomforting, though certainly only when I realize whats happening. every member of my mothers family had very progressive dementia in their 60s and 70s. while my father shows no such sign in his 90s. so I guess its a crap shoot for us progeny whats to come. I watched my mom shit the floor and rub her fingers in it. so I guess its all too real for me. about the house, what im really expressing is a desire to call some place home base, I reach into my bag of who I am and that's not there anymore. and it hurts to be adrift, to have no place of my own, to want to go back to the mountain but feel the pain of separation. I guess anyplace is fine, I just need it to be separate from everything else, an island in the river, a dock for my soul to rest on to tie up to. my friend  is still coming but the time frame is dependent on her own house being taken by the bank. and her finances and her relationships, because any woman as attractive as her has no shortage of choices. but I think she wants a new life a new series of experiences and the normal relationship is far too limiting for that. so I guess it could all fall into place but whether its india or Hawaii remains to be seen. all love is sacrifice and surrender to what is, the eternal acceptance of life as our most wondrous gift. I examine my own self, the bits and parts im made of and find nothing remarkable, deficiencies and overload, self examination reveals the shortages of the examiner not the examined, yet as both I find one cannot help the other until a truth is reached, for I am not this and this and this but rather every time I find myself I am not that but another kind of life, one that hasn't found its planet. this world is the curtain, this night sky the face of the clock, the sun some unlikely god, yet from where all things flow, we find just more of the same, the repetitive nature of existence, a series of buildups from a single structure, repeated ad infinitum and from this consciousness comes, to count the rings and repetitions and deduce that all is strictly bunk and we the slaves of our own freedoms.i grant this moment liberty from need and want, to not have to or want to but just to stop all sameness and wait for the unknowable to become real. I haven't a real thing to say but to be alive and slowly becoming some other process of being that hasn't been that like puberty changes the way I see everything, this is the life divine yet I think even that word lacks the truth of evolution. I am reptile becoming fish, swine into penguin, is it too much too soon, I feel a little unnerved, a little distant from the shores of solidity, maybe this is the end, the beginnings always look like the ends, near and very final. love to you too