Night between Day 3 and 4 of the Vision Fast- stargazing

 In the middle of the night, I woke up hot with a dry mouth and chapped lips. I stripped off my layers and lay there for a long time. 

My chapped lips remind me of childhood because I frequently had chapped lips. It brings me right back to that place of being a kid. 

Chapped lips are about shedding the dead skin and regrowing new skin. 

Finally, I realized I needed to get up and tend to my body. I drank some water, put some of my layers back on, put my shoes on, and went to pee.

The moon was yellow, almost full, almost at the horizon, and huge in the sky. But I couldn’t fully see it because there were trees in the way. I wanted to get to a ridge where I could see it. 

I made myself some electrolyte water and packed up my emergency pack with my first-aid kit and lighter. I secured my sleeping bag and other stuff at camp so it wouldn’t blow away if the wind picked up. I got my headlamp on. 

Much to my dismay and surprise, by the time I did all that, it was already too late. The mood had fallen below the horizon and I could no longer see it. 

I walked toward where it had been. I tried getting a little higher and closer so that I could see it, but it was gone. 

I was so disappointed. 

Sometimes things don’t turn out the way we hope. Everything is temporary. 

I returned to my tarp. I moved my sleeping bag out from underneath the tarp and laid underneath the stars. The sky was so black since the moon had set that the Milky Way was clearer than I’d seen it in a long, long time. 

I saw 3 shooting stars over the course of the next few hours! 

I also saw many airplanes and satellites moving across the sky, and I wondered what the people on the planes were doing, where they were going and why. 

I meditated. 

I did one meditation where I think “filling up” on the in breath and “letting go” on the out breath. I thought of all the people in my life who I will most likely witness their death and attend their funerals in the coming years: my parents, aunts and uncles, mentors, and friends. Even Bruno. Even Brie (at some point unless I die first). Even me. 

Either they will mourn me or I will mourn them. Either way, we will have to say goodbye. 

I thought of grandpa and said “Hi” to him. 

I told my Dad I love him and thanked him for everything. Same with Mom. 

I just watched those stars and thought about how big the universe is and how small I am. 

And how small an atom is and how big I am relative to that. 

The macro and the micro. They both exist in one, big fractal pattern. 

Cancer is when the cells go haywire and the whole body - one type of universe - dies. 

So the best thing we can do in this world is to be a good cell, not a cancerous one. 

Day 3 of the Vision Fast- getting lost

I turned left, heading West, into a grove. I was so sure that I was right. But all of the sudden, everything was unrecognizable. The sun was starting to set. I was out of water and I was exhausted. I felt disoriented and not able to think clearly. I went down into a valley I thought I recognized but it wasn’t what I thought.

I took a deep breath and retraced my steps, heading back East. Finally, and luckily, I found my way back to the dirt bike path I recognized. 

I walked North toward the direction of my spot for a long time. I had a dawning realization that I had been completely off when I had turned West into that grove of trees. The correct turn towards my spot was another half-mile North up the trail. 

Finally, I got to the intersection with the cow trough that I recognized and from there I could see my tarp. I got back- sweaty, exhausted, and parched.

I once was lost but now am found. 

Home sweet home. 

It was the coming back that was so right and good. The arrival was so sweet and welcomed. It’s the coming back that’s the best part. But to come back, you must first get lost. 

I thought of my grandpa. He must have been so scared when he got lost in the car driving around Pittsburgh.  

I am a neurodiverse and integrated artist of connection

 South. 

West.

North. 

East. 

I contain multitudes.

He/they/she.

Practical Daddy Sam. 

Playful Baby Sammi.

Introverted and autistic Samuel. 

Diligent Elizabeth. 

Spiritual and creative Liz.

All are artists. All are present. All are hungry. 

Hungry for trust and affirmation.

Hungry for attention and care. 

All want to be seen, heard, valued. 

All want what is best for me. 

All want and need connection. 

Is it possible to dream a life where all of them get airtime everyday? 

I am whole. I am integrate. I am an initiated adult. 

I am creative. 

I am at the integral level, creating my life. 

Is it possible to check-in with each part each day?

Yes, my soul screams!

Yes, my heart screams!

Yes, my body screams!

My mind, exhausted, doesn't have the energy to scream. 

What do we need to let die?

To make room to what I need. 

My book. 

Drugs. 

Social media. 

Let go and let love. 

For you, for them, for us. 

Poem for Day 2 of Solo Vision Fast

 Grumble. 

Rumble. 

Uh oh. 

I race back to camp. 

Grab my TP. 

Hastily dig a hole. 

The Great Purge of Day 2. 

Brown water bursts from my asshole. 

Letting go of old ways that no longer serve.

Releasing myself. 

Earlier I spoke to Elizabeth. 

Is it okay if you take a backseat? 

Yes, I'm exhausted. 

You have so many gifts and privileges

I just want you to be seen

and appreciated

for all your hard work and self-sacrifice. 

And, besides, 

I like challenging intellectual tasks. 

Sammi Bear needs some time to play. 

I will never forget about you.

The burden, 

the weight, 

flowed out of me

and splattered on my bare feet. 

We all make messes. 

We all make mistakes. 

We all have regrets.

Flies swarmed. 

Something or someone

will always benefit from

your shit.

I cleaned up, 

washed up. 

All done. 

Purged. 

Clean.

Healthy.

Safe.

Comfortable. 

You just have to be willing to clean up your messes. 

I touched the Earth. 

Thank you for holding me.

All of me. 

The disgusting and the beautiful. 

The hope and the despair.

The dark and the light.

Poem for Brie

 Neurodiverse as shit. 

Queer as fuck. 

Society doesn't appreciate our gifts. 

Fuck society. 

You are a weaver of Worlds, 

a protector of Truth. 

You are an artist, 

creator of beauty. 

Your curly hair, 

your bright green eyes. 

Your long legs, 

and wide smile. 

You are perfect. 

You are everything and nothing. 

"To the world, you might be one person, 

but to one person, you might be the world."

I'm that one person.

You are my world. 

May we both multiply beauty and joy

with our Love now and forever. 

Entering Age 35

“You’re one year older, one year wiser. What is one thing that you learned this year?”

Okay, one thing or four things?

1. Work is always too much and never enough.

2. Do your own thing and don’t wait for others. Just go. 

3. Never let your threshold guardians dictate your path. Let them teach you. 

4. Flow with the seasons.

Work is all consuming and yet is a never-ending cycle of never catching up to the finish line. What is it about work that makes it feel like an endless void, a chasm of energy drain? I can never catch up, I can never get away from the tiger chasing me. I am on a hamster wheel. I am flooded endlessly by tasks that creep into my consciousness and tell me, “You must get this done!” in a snake-like hiss. Instead of going outside to play, I hunch in front of my computer, slurping coffee and click click click, tip tap tip goes the keyboard as I stare at a screen for hours on end. Bruno wonders what I’m doing. “Can we go outside? Can we play? Can we snuggle?” No, no, no. I am busy. I am working. No time for anything else. My shoulders ache, my neck screams to stop. When I do finally stop for the day, I have no energy left. My brain is fried, my eyes tired. The only thing I can do is eat something, as my body and mind think that I’ve been running from a tiger all day and thus am desperate for quick fuel. I do this day after day, and yet I still have to race the clock to get my 40 hours and I just barely make it, and the to-do list continues to grow. “It’s too much,” I say. And, it is never enough. 

I am a leader of trips. I move fast, I think fast. I plan, I do. I travel, I organize logistics. I think my way into the future. I imagine my Vertellis questions that will be waiting for me at the end of the year. I create experiences for myself and others, knowing that I’ll be grateful later. Not everyone appreciates this. Not everyone wants to have everything planned. Some thrive with an open and blank calendar. Some do not or cannot organize lots of logistics at once. Some like to think things over and weigh the pros and cons, and do research about all the possibilities. NOT ME. I like to plan and execute. I think about the trips I want and bring everything together to make that happen: flights, AirBnBs, permits, applications. I like to invite others but I do not like to wait for others. I will join and I will lead, I will invite, but I will not wait. I am adventurous and I go by myself if I have to. 

Listen to your threshold guardians but do not be discouraged by them. I am on a Hero’s Journey of transformation with many challenges and obstacles along the way. Some people call these threshold guardians, symbolized as the Siren Sisters in the Odyssey, for example. My threshold guardians are jiujitsu professors, teammates and empty morning classes; Nasty peer reviews and constant delays and re-writing of drafts; Challenging clients and a perfectionist boss; Doubts, insecurities, narratives of scarcity, narratives that I am not worthy, not good enough, will never amount to much. DO NOT LISTEN TO THE SIRENS! If you persist, you can and will prevail. Some evidence in my own life is: my blue belt in skiing, my brown belt in jiujitsu, progression on my book, improvements in training Bruno, lead climbing outside, 401(k) benefits and raises at work. I am married to the love of my life and living my Truth as a non-binary person. I have amazing friends who I show up for and who show up for me. BConnected is a strong and growing community. I am in great shape physically. I am progressing, growing, and evolving on this journey toward the integral level of spirituality and creativity. You must confront your threshold guardians OR ignore them but never let them dictate your path- let them teach you what you need to know to succeed on your journey. 

The seasons have a lot to teach about the constant shift in weather, mood, and focus. Seasonal sports come and go. Enjoy them while they last. Summer is a time to be wild and free, swim in the creek, dance at Red Rocks, hike the Colorado Trail, visit Rocky Mountain National Park, mountain bike the Monarch Crest Trail. It is a time to nourish my body, listen to the call for play, energy, and sensuality. Fall is a time for hibernation, sleep, rest as resistance, composting the shit, cocooning, reflecting and embracing the dark. Winter is a time for community, holiday parties, Christmas gifts, and skiing. Hot cocoa and snuggles. Stripping down to the bare essentials. Getting in shape for spring. Spring is a time to write, to watching the blooming flowers, to bask in the sunshine, to meditate and pray. Getting stuck in one season for too long is suffocating and boring. Changing up sports and routine, focus and goals every 3 months or so allows for change, shifts, and growth, movement and space, diversity, variety, adjustments, excitement, and rest.