McGuyver is awesome.

I was driving through Nebraska along Interstate 84. I was writing some poetry. Red Rocket starts to chug and lose power. I push down on the accelerator. Unfortunately I didn't have any Chief Engineer name Scotty to tell me 'I just can't do it Captain, I don't have the power'. Feeling silly driving so slow on an interstate highway I decided to pull over. That and the steam coming from my hood. I open up the hood and am met with a geyser of steam angry and hot coming somewhere from my engine.

Fuck. Fuck. And Fuck.

That steam was a spanner in the works of my well laid plans. I let it cool down and drive to the rest area only 1 mile away. For those in Australia - not very far. After parking I patch together my meagre knowledge of engines to form a shabby tapestry from which I use to guide myself to the cause of the said geyser. I'm mostly clueless. Friendly and curious strangers pass - mostly elderly, mechanically minded gentlemen. They give me hints as to the cause. Shabby tapestry starts to feel as if the stitching could handle being pulled by virile grandma's.

A trucker stops by to discuss Burning Man with me. We discuss and I, selfishly, guide the conversation to my mechanica dilemma. We discuss, examine, discuss, examine some more, let the car run, discuss, and examine. No certain outcome. I can hear the tapestry slowly tearing from the strength of the grannies. Oh sigh. Steam starts to obnoxiously exit from whatever hole is hidden to us. Using the radio antenna from Red Rocket I start to ask where The Trucker is pointing to with his finger; the area from which he thinks the steam is exiting. Accidentally I touch a hose. The steam stops slightly.

THE STEAM STOPS SLIGHTLY!! HORAAH!

Happy dancing is in order. I turn the car off and examine the hose I was pointing to. There is a massive eruption coming from the start of the hose, the rim like that of a geyser. How to patch? Black tape? Glue? Bicycle tire repair kit? We choose the repair kit and poxy glue. As we let it cool down the trucker tells me he is hauling cracker biscuts across two states for 250 a day at 11hrs each day. He use to operate a charter fishing business near Black Rock desert with his Native American Indian girlfriend. He wanted to be a taxi driver in Reno because it sounded very interesting to him. But the wait for such was three months. He had been driving trucks for 20 years and is bored of it. The car calls. We get back to work.

Before we start the patch a local elderly man who is mechanically minded offers his assistance. He gives me some Schneider tape. Known by those in the know as "100 mph tape" because it is used to tape anything and everything. It's reputation for durable has even slipped into The Trucker's community. He gives it high praise. Awesome I think. Let's try this. Quicker. We all work together to wrap the tape on. The local guy gives me the address for an auto parts store that closes at 9pm. It is 7:30pm. I can make it there.

I give The Trucker some wine I won't drink and head off to the auto parts shop, carefully watching the temperature gauge. 1/4 way up. 1/2 way up. This is normal. Everything is good. I will make it. Yay! Just over 1/2 up. 3/4 way up. This is not normal. I will not make it. I had driven only less than 5 mins. Nearly all the way up. I pull over and open the hood. Steam and I met again. Not a happy meeting. It is steam being obnoxious and I still want to be rid of it. Once the steam dissipates I see it the whole through which it bust through. There is a hole in the tape strikingly similar to the hole in the reputation of the "100 mph tape". Disappointment and frustration washing over me.

But wait. I harken back to one of my childhood hero's and ask myself: "What would McGuyver do??". I rummage through Red Rocket and find the strap for my water bottle holder. For reinforcement I wrap it around the tape and hose. Hesitant, I continue the drive forward. On the roadside I leave behind the hope for a repair tonight. The auto parts place is closed. Driving is still stop/start, but the McGuyver fix seems to work. After small confusion as to the direction of the closest gas station I make it there. Disappointed, slightly annoyed, and frustrated. I have to wait till next morning to purchase the hose.

The next morning I make it to the auto parts store. After still more stopping/starting. Removing the hose is difficult, time consuming, and tedious. Clouds part and the light shines down upon me as I feel the joy of removing the old hose. The attendant gives me a new hose for free. My first attempt to apply the hose is ridiculous. I ask for a second hose, giving him the first one to him cut up and mangled. The second is successful. YAY! I fill with coolant and drive around. It starts to overheat again.

NO. FUCK. SHIT. NO.

I stop into a mechanic. He can't see it till tomorrow. F that, I want outta this town today. Now preferrably. He suggests a coolant flush. The colour of the coolant - rust colour - is 'probably half the problem right there'. I head back to the autoparts shop and ask for a coolant flush product. The asthmatic sounding, obese, but jolly and helpful attendant directs me to "Lincoln Lube". I smile to myself. I can't help but think about something deviously sexual being done to Abraham Lincoln. I arrive at "L Lube" and Red Rocket is inspected. Some confusion, however, the helpful and friendly attendants think I just needed to put the coolant directly into the radiator. Not the reserve tank. They fill the radiator and suggest I test that solution.

I; feeling downtrodden, disapppointed, and 'out-of-options', do such. Like an eagle I watch the temperature gauge: less than a 1/4. Drive more. Less than a 1/4. Drive more. Less than a 1/4. It stays on that for more than 20 mins. YAY! YAY! Happy dance in order if I wasn't in the car. I'm confident all is well and Red Rocket blast towards the interstate to continue the journey.

Rubbish the rubbish - How picking up rubbish can be a transformative practice.

During a break for a mostly boring somewhat interesting taxi training course I decided to go for a walk. Nearby there is a river. That was my destination. I arrived, ate, and strolled along the bank. I started to take pictures of the scenery. I noticed the trash along the shore. It was background noise, something that my mind has adapted to, something 'normal'. However that did not last for long.

I'm not sure what triggered it, but spontaneously I felt the desire to pick up the rubbish. I, instinctive, looked around. I was concerned about what an(the)other person would think about me picking up rubbish that was not even mine. It was not my rubbish. Why should I pick it up? Then I decided to act. I actually, to my surprise, started to pick up rubbish that was not my rubbish. It was an(the)other person's rubbish.

Then, in the distance, I saw another person. I hesitated. Then continued to pick up rubbish. Coke bottles, styrofoam, plastic bags, potatoe chip packets, and more were nabbed by my fingers regardless of their dirtiness. And I actually enjoyed it on some level. After letting go of the idea of what an(the)other may think of my doing such an act I actually started to enjoy cleaning up whatever it was I could clean up. I rubbished my own rubbish. I threw my egoic, personal rubbish into the bin of transformation. Into the compactor of consciousness. Into the incinerator of integration.

I started to feel the environment in which I was in and cleaning to be 'my' environment. I knew this at the same time as I knew it to be an(the)other's environment as well. It was 'our' environment. The rubbish I was seeing on the bank of the river disrupted my experience so much so that I felt moved to remove such in order to 'harmonise' my experience of myself. The more space I cleaned the more my experience was harmonised and when I cleaned a space so that there was no rubbish there I felt a pleasure and pride. It's Plato's The Good, The True, and The Beautiful. Well at least the last one. I felt moved by the beauty of the bank without rubbish on it.

Then I became aware of the time. Break over. I choose to go back to the taxi seminar. As I was walking back I reflected upon how by throwing out my own personal rubbish I can enter into a more encompassing feeling state while helping to clean up the environment. At first I was conflicted between my own spontaneous desire to act and the thought of an(the)other in my mind. The Other was a person, or the idea of a person who was looking at me thinking what I was doing was 'not good' or 'not normail' or whatever. Thus, I hesitated and didn't act. Then I went along with the action. 'The Other', my own personal rubbish, dissolved into who I was at that moment: the spontaneous desire to pick up rubbish. I, for a moment, touched a novel experience in my being. If I do that again, and again and again... Well, that is how picking up rubbish can be a transformative practice.

Reverse engineering thy soul.

Today I became fascinated by the faithful olde coffee cup holder. It is built to hold coffe. Not just one, but at least four; even six if you count the space in the middle. What a strike of genius whoever invented such. An individual has the ability to carry 12 cups of coffee at one time. Perfect for those cumbersome office orders in the morning. Where would we as a society be without the coffee cup holder? Without less coffee perhaps? I'm not sure it is hard to foresee a time in which such a device does not exist.

None of these thoughts came into my head as I examined the holder. I was fascinated by the structure of the holder. And the reason for each part of the holder being as it was. For each part of the holder has a purpose. Each fold, perforated line, hole, etc has a distinct purpose. But what? The obvious reason for the 4 coffee cup sized holes is to hold coffee. Duh. So what. But what about the parts that fold in when the cup is inserted into the hole? Easy, they jam against the coffee cup so it does not move as much. The perforated line? Smarty pants. It breaks it in two so the person will not waste 4 spaces when they only have 2 cups to carry. Well what about the half circle support stuck to the bottom of the holder? They are half a circle so the holder can be flattened - a space saver. Simple. Hmmm.



When I take it apart there are semi-circles holes in the bottom. What does that mean? For what purpose is that? Well it helps to... um stabalise the base. It sorta does something. Okay, I don't know. It is about efficiency. Instead of having a the 2 half circle hole filled with cardboard it is faster in the manufacturing process to have the supports, which are stuck to the base, glued at the same time as the base itself. Ah I see.

Now the whole coffee cup holder makes structure sense. Every part of the holder is there for a reason and each reason has been understood. What if one could do this with ones soul? Reverse engineer it. Look at the structure and find out what each part means, what the purpose of such is? Why can't it be done? Just start asking questions and keep asking until the whole is understood.

Romans 12:1

Therefore, I urge you, brothers, in view of God's mercy, to offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God - this is your spiritual act of worship.

I choose this today from a random pack of palms cards on which were written, in English and some sort of Asian language, Biblical quotes. It struck me. No, I didn't start to sing 'Hallelujah' and 'Praise be to Jesus, Lord and God'. But I felt something upon reading the quote. Something about offering my physical body and, along side it, my mind as a living sacrifice to not-the-man-in-the-throne-in-the-sky 'God'. And this would be my spiritual act of worship. Hmmm, interesting. Feelings. I trust my feelings here so I'm looking into this passage a bit more.

I'm a bit unclear about the meaning of some of the words in this passage such as 'mercy', 'sacrifice', 'holy', 'spiritual', and 'worship'. These words mean something to me vaguely, but I do not really feel. They do not clearly connect my thought processes with my feeling processes. As a whole they did. But as I dissected the passage each word became more ambigious.

Mercy, for instance, vaguely means to me... well I have an image of a judge in a court giving leniancy to a defendant. Doesn't really seem to fit into the context of this passage, for me at least. It means a few things. I find it difficult to narrow the meaning into just one, especially when the subject, God, is one that encompassed all and in which nothing is not. Thus I'm taking two definitions into one word: 1)Compassionate treatment, especially of those under one's power, and 2) A disposition to be kind and forgiving. God, as a supernatural being outside ourself - kind of like the-man/women/whatever-in-the-throne-in-the-sky - is regarded as treating his/her/its with compassion. The 2nd-person God. Thus, the first definition is covered. God, as the felt experience of such - kind of like Buddha, Jesus, Bubba Free John, or that feeling you have had in which it is difficult to explain but you felt it anyway - is regarded, by some, as being of a kind and forgiving disposition. The 1st-person God. Tick to the second.

Rewritten: '...in view of God's compassionate treatment and disposition to be kind and forgiving...'

Sacrifice, to me, vaguely means to kill something as a gift to another something. I have images of goats being sacrificed, and virgins. Its meaning is threefold, all of which are, I think, appropriate. 1) The act of offering something to a deity in propitiation or homage, 2) To forfeit (one thing) for another thing considered to be of greater value, and 3) To sell or give away at a loss. My initial vague associations to the word are appropriate though I'm missing out on so much! The first is appropriately associated with the 2nd-person God in the fashion of worshipping Dark Lords, Mother Gaia, or Father God. A sacrifice is given in respect. Two and three, however, fit in nicely as the 1st-person God experience. I give myself and what I hold dearly, my closest and most cherished beliefs, to gain much more. But, at first, it seems that I'm giving such away at a loss until there is the actual experience of one-with-all-and-nothing.

Thus: '...to offer your bodies as (a) living object in respect of God and a living forfeit of one thing for another and at a loss...'

Holy, to me, can be read as 'whole', as in being complete. In, however, the definitional sense it means, as I'm applying in the context: 1) Belonging to, derived from, or associated with a divine power; sacred, and 2) Regarded with or worthy of worship or veneration; revered. 2nd-person God in the first as 'your' body is derived from God. And in using the second definition the passage is saying that God regards our bodies worthy of worship. Cool! God worship us! That is something different, well for some people.

So: '...belonging to, derived from, or associated with divine power and regarded with or worthy of worship or veneration and pleasing to God...'

'Spiritual' I associate with new agey seekers out for the ultimate truth. There are other meanings that I am not aware of. Here: 1) Of, relating to, consisting of, or having the nature of spirit; not tangible or material, 2) Of, concerned with, or affecting the soul, and 3) of, relating to, or characteristic of sacred things, the Church, religion. It can also mean a line of development in one's personality - the 'spiritual aspect' of oneself. These meanings make it a bit difficult to fit into the picture.

Maybe: '... this is your not tangible or not material act of worship...' or '... this is your soul act of worship' or '...this is your sacred thing act of worship...' The second one feels appropriate to me. Here it is the soul which is acting to worship the body and the experience which parallels the body thus there is a shaking of identification with such experience.

'Worship' is, in my mind, bowing down to a Father God and giving thanks and praise and all that stuff. Other definitions include: 1) The reverent love and devotion accorded a deity, an idol, or a sacred object, and 2) the ceremonies, prayers, or other religious forms by which this love is expressed. If an individual is praising God then there could possibly, more than likely, be a sort of reverential love for such deity. Ofcourse there is the whole praising for one's own purpose. Which doesn't matter because God is that anyway. He/she/it won't miss out on much.

Sooo: '...this is your spiritual act of reverential love and devotion accorded a deity.'

And altogether now: 'Therefore, I urge you, brothers, in view of God's compassionate treatment and disposition to be kind and forgiving to offer your bodies as (a) living object in respect of God and a living forfeit of one thing for another and sell or give away at a loss, belonging to, derived from, or associated with divine power and regarded with or worthy of worship or veneration and pleasing to God -this is your spiritual act of reverential love and devotion accorded a deity.'

Well that doesn't not read as well as the original does it? Not to me, nup. The means has been lost amongs the insertion of longer meanings that were meant to add clarity. Each word was made clearer though at a loss to the full impact of the phrase. It has now become a shadow of itself and upon reading the rewritten version I feel not what I felt before but rather confused and disconnected from the phrase.

I'll throw that all aside and stick to the original passage from which I felt a sense of 'aliveness' upon reading the passage, particular the 'living sacrifices' part. This is an interesting contradiction. As mentioned previously, in my mind sacrifices I equate - as does the definition - with the killing of a physical being, of an animal of some type, human or otherwise. Clearly I cannot be a living sacrifice. I cannot be alive and offer myself to God. Is there a contradiction there? Did the Bible writers miss this passage during their edits? Or did they feel something from it as well. Maybe, I'm not sure. But it was choosen as such. Could 'bodies' be refering to a group of people? Or could it mean the different bodies of our being - gross, subtle, and causal? If it is the latter then we can offer our bodies as a sacrifice to God, as a living sacrifice. Not killing involved, no murder, not of you or me or any non-human animal. However, there is a killing of Self, of the bodies to which we identify with. Like ouch, ouch, ouch it hurts when he/she/it punches me stop punching me, stop it, stop it. What if I just move away? But he/she/it punched me and it hurts. He did, but he/she/it has stopped. Yeah, so but it hurts and he was punching me and it hurt. Okay, you see what if I sacrificed that body the emotional body to God. I'm letting go and I'm still alive and without pain of the punch. Booyeah!

The ship of being

She dances amongst the billy-goats,
who cling to the mountain side.
She swings amongst the monkies
who jive on trees up high.
She floats amongst the dolphins
who relax with the sea.
Her breeze-like spirit
cannot be captured
except by sails-free.
Yet the ship named intention
has a broken mast
it brews within the eddies
causing the steersman
to mislay his heart.
Within the captain's chamber
courage builds anew
for visions begin to form
of treasures whose 'x'
is charted out of view.
All deckhands are called
to mend the fracture mast
scartissue starts forming and
the steersman discovers his heart.
Scuttling to the crow's nest
captain scans the ocean of life
horizon's knife edge promising
a worldview beyond the I.
Balancing on the blade
of distant knife
a precarious isle of mystery
captain screams 'land ahoy'.
The scar tissues starts dissolving
slowly exposing the mast
the last necrosed tissue is falling
the butterfly sails showing glory.
The captain plots the course to
lands atop world's edge
with butterfly sails unfurled
her spirit breeze seizes them.
The eddies rumble intention
testing steersman's faith
all deckhands busy in battle
with torrential waves.
Intention explodes free from
trials and torments of life
captain yells 'hazzar, hazzar'
ready to face the unknown day.
The uncharted isle lays distant
as intention creeps towards
between there may lay sea beasts
eddies, waves, that may destroy.
Though when intention reaches
the final distant goal
who knows what one may find
gems and jewels or nasty natives
either will test or refine
for treasures come in many
different and varied guises
opposing visions crystallised
to pull one through life.

I say, old chap, Stephen Fry Lies!

Yes, he is an actor. Hence, a professional liar. Some of my most favourite lies enacted by him were his parts in V for Vendetta and The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy. But these are not the lies I speak of. I speak of the egoic lie. It happens, I lie to myself all the time. I tell myself I'm NOT one with everything, every moment! That's a big one. Or I tell myself I'm 'this' but I end up being 'that'. He reveals this lie in his frustrated outburst about people on American TV who 'whine' about wanting for themselves. Well sure, why not be annoyed about that! How dare they! Well. Maybe. It's irritates me a little, sometimes. It's a grosser form of egoism. But does it make it any less wrong or right than Mr Fry's more subtle form of egoism. Probably not, depends who you ask. In any case, I ask you this Mr Fry: are you really 'abnegating yourself'? How much do you abnegate yourself when you promote being interested in others just for YOU (cough cough "I") to be liked? Just so opportunities can be open to YOU (ahem "I")? Just so I - opps I mean YOU - can learn something from them? Self is harldy being adnegated here. Good! Great! Thank-you Mr Fry! Self is starting to be abnegated, at least more so than the American TV whinger. It's a start. But Mr Fry I urge you to move through such sublties. Admit your lie, repent, claim everything is for SELF! Everything I do is for SELF, for there is no other.

STEPHEN FRY: WHAT I WISH I'D KNOWN WHEN I WAS 18 from Peter Samuelson on Vimeo.