Guru and Garland

Sometimes we can hear the voice, but cannot make out exactly what we are hearing. It is just a calling.

For me, I slipped out of bed, and quickly put some things into a travel bag while my partner slept fitfully, waking at every move I made.

He could feel the disturbance. He could hear he sound of something calling me. He felt the draft of the open window and door, pulling me out of our warm bed. He was alarmed.

With a single change of clothes and a dress, I left the house, feeling for a direction. Listening. I travel with my hand on a mala, sailing on a carpet of grace.

The Mystical Gypsy continues to move through the illusion of space and time, along this terrain we call geography.

Apple Austino

Apple Austino
Inspired by Austino
www.austino.com


Step 1 Ingredients and process:

3 Granny Smith apples, peeled and sliced

5 Medjool dates cut into pieces
1 orange, juiced
zest from the orange rind
Process: a) Butter or oil a pie plate or baking dish.
b) Arrange apple slices in pie plate or small baking dish.
c)Arrange date pieces on top of apples or inbetween apples.
d) Pour squeezed juice over apples and dates.
e) Set aside

Step 2 Ingredients and process:

2 cups rolled oats
½ cup toasted pecan pieces
2 Tablespoons butter or ghee
3 Tablespoons maple syrup
2 tsp. Cinnamon
1 tsp cardamom

Process: a) Melt the butter and maple syrup together in a separate container
b) In a medium to large bowl, mix together the dry ingredients:
c) Stir in the wet ingredients to the dry ingredients to coat well.

Pour the oat mixture on top of the apple and date arrangement. Bake at 350 degree oven for 30 minutes or until browned. Does not need to be cooled to eat.
For breakfast, serve with yogurt.
For an evening snack, serve with vanilla mango soy ice cream.

From Osho:

You see the people-they are miserable because they have compromised every point, and they cannot forgive themselves because they have compromised. They know they could have dared, but they proved cowards. In their own eyes they have fallen,
they have lost self-respect. That's what compromise does. ~Osho~

Honesty on Steroids!

My partner wrote the following paragraphs on his OKCupid profile.

Notice:

I make no attempt to sell myself to anyone. I do not present any filtered profile or contrived photos as an advertisement or marketing attempt to get sex or a date or snag a partner. My purpose is to accurately and proudly proclaim what I believe and who I am. If you don't agree, or you don't feel comfortable with me, or don't like me, then move on and find a more conventional kinda guy, whom I'm sure will make you happer!

Further, don't waste your time reading further if the only reason you are here is that you are loooking for your lifelong monogamous spiritual partner!

Also, you probably won't like me if you are otherwise uptight and narrow minded about relationships and sexuality.

And also, if you are browsing anonymously, shame on you. Have you really been so brainwashed by Republicans that you are in imminent danger from terrorists, scam artists, thiefs, lecherous men, stalkers, immorality, Muslims, and liberals and that you better assume (that by default) everyone is out to get you and you protect yourself by hiding in the shadows?

OK; now I can continue with the few of you remaining.

I have a primary partner in a poly relationship. I am free to have other lovers without cheating, sneaking, lying, tricking, hiding, etc.

More Compost

How could it be possible that I am in a place in my life when I want my most significant relationship to be with compost? Right now, I feel that compost is more important to me than anything else.

And so here, where I am living in a place of seclusion from community, my only responsibility is to carry the kitchen scraps down to the compost bin. This is my passion. Even though I may never see the fruits of next summer's crops, I feel connected to the harvest before the earth is thawed or the seeds are germinated.

Some days, the sun shines. But today, everything is grey. I feel grey. Like Anne in London's blog posting, I can understand that there is no need to be gay on a grey day. But in this grey of late winter, I feel the swelling of life. The expectation of something new. The excitement and expectation of transformation during this time of transition.

Composting

There is something magical about walking through the snow, carrying a full compost pail to the bins on the property. It is late winter. Snow and below freezing temperatures still hug the rural areas of these regions of North America. This morning's fresh snowfall reveals the day's visitors' tracks: bunnies, birds and countryside mice and shrews. The tops of the bare trees were illuminated by the sun which was setting; the sun was already sinking into the horizon. I savored the warmth of the glow, even though I could feel the windchill coming from the snow.

I didn't have a nervous break down. That would require an extended hospital stay. It would have required pharmaceuticals and meetings with a therapist. A nervous breakdown would have made my life more complicated and more stressful.

Instead, one morning, I walked out of my primary living situation. I left the suburban condo and found a hermitage in the country. And now I rebuild.

Chop wood. Carry water. Dump compost.

Photo from: eastgwillimburywow.blogspot.com/ 2009_03_01_ar...
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