written 4/6/19 (three months ago to the date)

Journal, hear me.
Here me.

I feel powerful when I wear all black.
Like I am saturated with grieving.
Like I am ready to use any means necessary.
Like you can see my shadow
Better than you can see me.

I am choosing this. am. Universe-is-me.
CRAxYizme. ^[1]The author’s first AOL instant messenger username. Self referential, a closed system.
Freeyerself. ^[2]The author’s first email address.

“Is this out of necessity or out of choice?”
“Is there any difference?”

…
Living in/living out of my truck.
Can I embrace it as a means of busting up stagnant energy, breaking through to the support system and allies I will need?
I struggle to be seen and understood,
I hamstring myself in these regards.

I am afraid if I utter one iota of my emotions,
they will all come tumbling out,
flooding, and be improperly handled.

Preponderance of the Good.
I am backlogged with content,
with discriminating wisdom,
and I need me some advocates
to help wield/yield the flow.

I need uncertainty, the wild nature of each day, to remind me what is the most important thing I must do: write, tell, swear, spell & enchant the whole wide world with possibilities vast enough to contain our greatest attainments.

Nothing to it but to build the physical, virtual, economic, sociocultural & narrative container around it.^[3]… Which is exactly what we are up to in Cosmos. Check out our latest conversation on Cosmos’ next structural steps and how we “get it done” on our forum. And, if you like this … Continue reading

Update, 7-6-19: I found truck living was counterproductive. Because I also need a platform, to stand on, to leverage against, to erupt off of. The stability in webbed form, perhaps, of a community of family and friends holding me close, of my basic needs being cared for, so I can free up that cognitive power for oracle-like efforts. How could I become self-actualized without my basic needs being handled, after all?

I want to give more. The future holds far more for me to give. However, to do so, I will need to receive more, and steadily. Now that I am again housed, and spending more time with loved ones, these are steps in the adaptive direction. Next, to raise support for Cosmos, and find means to support myself.

I do not mourn truck life. I strive to move light-footed and sleek as a hunter through difficulties, following the information as it flows… but not without feeling the emotions for the information they contain. In truck living I saw how I mistook a call from Intuition/the universe as a grounds for radical action that didn’t, in fact, fully consider nor meet my needs. Having crossed over into the actual living of this choice, I picked up on a worrying past shadow, an untoward pattern of mine, a resonance of a youthful ignorance, in my truck life choice, even as I believed at the time that I was unselfishly “answering a call” from Intuition and universe. I found that I was not in right relation with myself.

I also found that the “dwellable truck” designed for outdoors living at a stretch does have an important role to play in my life–in its right place. During a three day open-ended trip to the San Isabel National Forest, I blissfully realized the proper use of the truck: the means for me to go out for extended periods to write and retreat in the wilderness. While having a home base in the city, supported by community and amenable to being rented out during my retreats–which is exactly what I have today with my residence in the resplendent Skyland House.

Better yet, the truck allows me to invite others into that joy and beauty: to extend the sacred offer to “host” others to go outdoors and come home, and reclaim their healing through nature-bathing, communion, immersion, peace and wonder in the marvelous wildlands that encompass Colorado. This is a way I hope to be of service, a way I naturally am inclined to show up: an open-eyed mystic, at one with the unknown, encouraging you to be with what is as whole-heartedly as you can.

As things continue to develop of their own eros and kairos, I have no idea where I will be writing from on 10-6-19. I predict I’ll be fully in it, whatever and wherever it is. Such is a life lived on the edge of trust, perpetually, purposefully open, imagining the world is an extension of my own body and mind. I hope we shall we only grow mutually, in our synchronicity.

MicroCosm: Fractal Axis