From LATimes 3:13 PM June 29  ~~  Firefighters report progress protecting  Buddhist retreat  

 As more than 1,000 fires continue to burn around California, flames advanced toward more homes near Big Sur today, but firefighters said they are making progress in protecting an isolated Buddhist retreat in the Los Padres National Forest.

 From LATimes June, 28 As flames approach Big Sur monastery, monks prepare to fight 

TASSAJARA, CALIF. -- In this remote Zen enclave on Big Sur's forested backside, wildfires lurk on three sides. As flames edge closer and ash falls from a crimson sky, the Buddhist monks are readying for a final stand.

I was raised to believe that America is the land of the free ~ and a sanctuary from religious persecution. So naturally I was alarmed  to discover that it all depends on which church I go to. The Republican Administration has chosen to identify itself with the religious right ..primarily Evangelical Christians. The evangelical community has arrogantly staked the moral high-ground ~ and declared themselves the only legitimate believers entitled to hold power. They have adopted their own form of religious persecution by creating a test to discriminate against public office holders. It goes something like this: 1) do you follow divine guidance and 2) do your prayers get answered by the same God as ours.

Thursday December 6, 2007:  Today I read about the humongous waves I experienced yesterday (see Offshore crush below).  They actually started out as swells several days before ~ hundreds of miles out to sea. Somewhere between Hawaii and California; they got amp’d.

Wednesday, December 5, 2007:  The forecast today calls for warm and sunny skies ~ offshore wind ~ and humongous waves. I pop some vitamin C ~ chase it with fruit juice and coffee ~ put the top down ~ toss my body board in ~ and careen through town ~ feeling warm but doubtful there‘ll be much surf ~ we just don’t get humongous waves here. I round the bend from Olive Mill Road to Channel Drive ~ that runs along the beach ~ where I enter a fog bank so thick ~ it blots out the sun. Burn-off, I suppose ~ no, wait ~ its ocean spray being thrown off the swells hitting the shore ~ creating a mist that hangs in the air. I pull over ~ run across the sand ~ and dive in ~ realizing, in horror, I’m over my head in break water ~ created by humongous waves crashing ~ one after the other ~ leaving me nothing to do except hang on and ride them in.

I’m sitting on the beach watching the waves break and thinking ~ there’s a current out there ~ and I’m gonna ride it ~ I’ll start at the beginning ~ body boarding in Tahiti ~  then I’ll get on a plane and follow it north to Hawaii ~ catch it breaking on a beach in Maui ~ from there I’ll fly to the mainland ~ catch it breaking on a beach in Southern California ~ go see my sister  ~ pick up my Alfa ~  speed up the coast  ~ catch it again on a beach somewhere in Northern California  ~ if I still detect a pulse ~  I’ll board a plane so I can watch that swell pound the coast off a point in the Gulf of Alaska ~ because maybe then I’ll feel ~ and not just think ~ but really feel ~ the rhythm of the sea ~ and the rest of the planet.

I have a friend I call Crazy Charlie ~ he chats and sometimes argues with people who aren’t around ~ I have a theory about Charlie ~ his ‘band path filters’ are worn out ~  allowing fuzzy signals of thought to slip through and travel the same pathways as signals coming from his senses ~ making it hard for him to distinguish between the sound of his ‘inner voices’ and the sound of other people’s voices ~ often the voices of people he doesn’t get along with ~  which leads me to another theory ~  thoughts from his subconscious mind ~ opinions he’s not aware of  ~  get amp’d and slip through there as well ~ arriving on the same channel as a co-worker saying hello in the morning ~ which may be another reason he has trouble holding a job ~ in fact, there’

Life finds a way ~ that is my favorite line from the movie Jurassic Park ~ turns out border fences don't present much of an obstacle either ~ the wall going up in Naco Arizona is a tightly woven honeycomb structure ~ designed to prevent ‘footholds’ ~ but within days it became an ideal pegboard for screwdrivers ~ which allows ‘handholds’ ~ life found a way ~ I remember the words of a zen master: ‘what’s softest in the world drives what’s hardest’ ~ and when I think about the way water wears down boulders ~ or the way thoughts knock down obstacles ~ the more I'm convinced ~ life finds a way.

I put the top down ~ zip through town ~ and check out the shore ~ there’s a warm wind swooping down from the mountains ~ and blowing out to sea ~ it’s eighty degrees (Fahrenheit) and conditions are glassy ~ I love offshore flows ~ I walk across the sand ~ and plunge into the water ~ it’s painfully cold ~ but such an awakening ~ I swim until it gets warm ~ then float on my back ~ looking at the sky ~ through a bubble that my eyes create ~ it’s oval shaped ~ I see the sky clearly ~ but the cliffs and trees ~ stretching around the periphery ~ are hazy and indistinct ~ kind of spooky ~ and there’s almost no sound ~ just the water lapping against my ears ~ occasionally a bird streaks by ~ leaving trails in the sky ~ I try to stay with these images ~ but forces outside my bubble keep interfering ~ mostly thoughts about things that aren’t in the vicinity ~ there’s a porous boundary between what’s in front of me ~ and the images that my mind flashes ~ of thing

I’m getting re-acquainted with my surroundings ~ I see wall hangings I forgot I had ~ a roommate that I definitely do not have ~ I’m hearing stories about people I don’t recognize ~ there’s a road sign ahead I’ve never seen ~ and a marquis that reads Evanescence ~ wtf ~ EVANESCENCE ..?

Time expands ..and I expand with it ~ breathing deeper ~ thinking clearer ~ speaking freer and listening longer ~ until a scheduled event approaches ~ like workshop time ~ meal time ~ or checkout time ~ then time compresses ~ and my breath becomes shallow ~ my mind races ~ my throat constricts ~ and I feel cramped and awkward ~ well, not anymore ~ I tell myself “fuck workshops ..meals ..and checkout” ~ I’ve never been jailed for truancy ~ gone hungry ~ or been charged an extra day for hanging out too long ~ I go to the round house ~ where there’s a different meditation guide ~ I listen closely ~ he reminds me of my own zen instructor ~ I follow what he says ~ I lean my upper body back and forth ~ feeling heaviness and tension in my abdomen and hips ~ then upright until I feel lightness ~ I lean my head back and forth ~ feeling heaviness turn into lightness ~ I feel my breath rise up ~ and lift my shoulders ~ next, I notic

I’m floating in a pool of hot water ~ gazing out across the surface where the edge seems to blend seamlessly into ocean water ~ I lift my gaze, look out over the ocean and see the horizon ~ where a sunset is turning the sky burnt orange and ultraviolet ~ I’m feeling no pain ~ thinking “there’s some things no one can explain” ~ when suddenly somebody says “hey, you’re from Santa Barbara ..aren‘t you?” I roll over ~ turn around ~ and there’s a boy ~ no older that 20 ~ who, I swear, I’ve never seen before ~ he goes “you’ve been here for a while ..haven’t you ?” “ummm, yea, kinda’ ..I left and came back” “you were in Santa Cruz ..right?” “uh huh ..” and I’m thinking I’m about to be told my astrological forecast or something ~ he goes “you work in an academic field ..don’t you ?” “Yeah, sorta ..” and he goes “See, I remember” ~ me, I have no clue ~ but I recognize the accen

On the road through Monterey ~ I’ve got the top down ~ sunscreen on ~ listening to Goo Goo Dolls, Hendrix and Petty ~ passing fields of artichoke and brussel sprouts ~ passing hidden surf spots.

Santa Cruz is a funky little college town ~ set between giant redwood trees and the deep blue sea ~  on any street corner ~ I can feel the presence of the rest of the place ~  this ordinary looking motel room is the Taj Mahal to me ~ from it, I can hear waves crashing ~ sea lions barking ~ and skateboards clacking ~ I get up in the morning ~ pop a couple Vitamin C ~ drive to Emily’s bakery ~ then go have breakfast in a redwood forest ~ also know as the university ~ but there are no buildings around ~just students shuffling by ~ decked out in comic book fashion ~ mostly anime ~ I ask a girl ~ wearing a skull cap pulled down to her eyes ~ “what’s your field ?” “Uhnnnn whuuoooaaa..?” and I go “Wuzup ~ watcha’ studyin’ ?” “environmentology and urban social policy”  ~ I go “cool” 

I pop a couple of chewable vitamin-C in my mouth ~ walk down to the lodge for breakfast ~ have a dish of yogurt, figs and granola ~ then go outside to sit and watch the mist rise. I meet Meinolf, a Child Psychologist from Germany and I  tell him a little about my studies in childhood reading ~ he tells me how often children mis-interpret what adults tell them ~ to a child, the phrase ‘how many times do I have to tell you to be quiet’ often comes across as: ‘you’re too small, noisy and bothersome to have anything useful to say’ ~ which can take a toll on their self-worth. His job is not to correct the adults, he says, but to help children interpret it better.

I wake up grumbling  ~ I intentionally slept in so my new roommate could use the bathroom first ~ it’s almost 8:30 am and he’s still in there ~ I get up ~ pop a couple chewable vitamin C ~ and head down to the lodge for breakfast ~ I eat a bowl of yogurt ~ figs ~ granola ~ and sit outside sipping coffee ~ figuring that there was no reason to grumble ~ I’d be sitting here sipping coffee either way ~ I love watching the way the morning sun catches the mist rising off the water ~ it’s definitely Indian summer ~ the ocean is calm and undisturbed ~ I take my off shirt and go ‘that’s what I want to feel’.

Workshop: There’s a well known author, Jon Kabat-Zinn, leading the medtiation workshop this weekend ~and there’s 63 people ~ a camera crew ~ sound engineers ~ all packed into an enormous tent ~ “IT’S TOO BIG” ~ my brain screams ~ and I think: 1) This workshop is going to suck 2) what a waste of time and money 3) I should have gone to the baths instead ~ then I realize I’m reading from the same script as before ~ so I put it down and sit for a period of silent mediation ~ next, I hear Kabat-Zinn say “Anything I describe to you here is not meditation ~ it will only serve as ‘scaffolding’ ~ enabling you to reach a state of meditation ~ kind of like the scaffolding you need to view the frescoes on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel” ~ this makes sense to me ~ too often I feel like I’m caught up building scaffoldings

I’m sitting in the meditation hall ~ practicing a breathing exercise that helps me with my meditation practice ~ I breathe in ~ thoughts rise up ~ I hold my breath ~ thoughts dissolve ~ I breathe out ~ thoughts disappear ~ cleansing my mind ~ and leaving room for another cycle to begin ~ except now, it leaves a state of anticipation instead ~ I remember the lesson I learned about anticipation this week ~ and let go of that too ~ only a little too soon ~ before the next moment arrives ~ and I get a glimpse of the narrow bridge in-between ~ and watch, in terror, as it disappears ~ leaving a big empty space ~ like an abyss ~ opening up below ~ without anything for me to hold on to ~ I scream ~ and the next moment arrives to rescue me ~ filled with startled faces ~ someone asks if everything’s OK ~ but words escape me ~ I mumble something ~ bow ~ and walk out the hall ~ still shaking ~ I kneel on a rock ~ and plunge my head int

Aria story:  I’m follow a memory chain ~ starting with  the sound of waves crashing outside of the big house ~ leading to images of pelicans dive bombing for fish off the coast of Santa Barbara ~ the sound of Karla yelling “bombs away” ~ watching And chasing birds on the beach ~ watching Andy chase Fred through the garage ~ Fred, a pet rat I inherited from Aria ~ Aria, the 15 year old daughter of Richelle ~ the morning Richelle came  pounding on my door ~ crying ~ “Aria wrecked my car” ~ a beautiful cherry red BMW convertible with cream leather seats ~ I drive Richelle to the accident scene ~ where the car

Massage: I lay down ~ shut my eyes ~ and on the back of my eyelids, I see images of ocean water moving between the rocks below ~ it’s more than just an ‘after-image’ ~ I’m right above the beach ~ and the images are moving with the sound of the water ~ strange ~ I lift my head and shake it from side to side ~ and watch other details of the bathhouse flash by ~ I figure it’ll fade shortly ~ and settle in for my massage ~ it was going wonderfully ~ then Chloe pushes in on the heel of my foot and suddenly I can see the outer edge of my heel ~ glowing ~ filled in with colored concentric circles ~ I stay focused on the image ~ it dissolves and in it’s place swirling colors appear ~ like someone taking an eyedropper of color dye and dropping some of it on the sur

Following the memory chain (or going down the rabbit hole): I start by listening to the waves crashing outside ~ from there, I follow a chain that leads me to images of pelicans dive bombing for fish off the coast of Santa Barbara ~ the sound of Karla yelling “bombs away” ~ the time I almost got hit by a pelican off the coast of Newport Beach ~ watching Andy (my dog) chasing birds on the beach ~ watching Andy chase Fred through the garage ~ Fred, a pet rat I inherited from my neighbor Richelle when she moved away ~ next, I’m posting ~ “ADOPT FRED" ~ on Craig’s list before coming to Big Sur ~ receiving a flaming reply that says ~ THAT’S A MOUSE ..NOT A RAT ~ complete with pictures showing rats on the left and mice on the right ~ another reply suggesting I contact the humane society ~ Laura draws a finger across her throat ~ a five year old girl and her mother appear at the door ~ I see the e

I inch my way to the baths at night ~ there’s no moon to inform my legs ~ so I begin a cycle of losing my balance ~ stumbling ~ and stopping to regain my balance ~ telling myself what a brutal place Esalen can be ~ reminds me of when I used to ski ~ at the outer limit of my ability ~ feeling like, any moment, I was about to crash and burn ~ a kind person appears out of nowhere and asks if they can help ~ as comforting as that sounds ~ I say no thanks ~ this is the reason I come to Esalen ~ to learn how to find my way in the dark ~ we chat briefly and she disappears ~ my mind seems to be sub-consciously mapping the terrain ~ I have come much farther tonight before remembering to turn on the flashlight ~ wait a minute ~ there’s something else in the air ~ ambient light everywhere ~ where is it coming from ~ I look up at the night sky and see the milky way ~ but I go “no, that’s just a romantic notion I read somewhere ~ it m

Last night was the first session of a weeklong 'writing' workshop titled ‘Felt Sense’ ~ which is appropriate because, when I write, it usually feels like I’m making no sense ~ anyway, I didn’t buy the book ~ or even look at the notes ~ so I have no idea what’s going to happen ~ we go around the room introducing ourselves ~ I rack my puny brain to think of something pertinent ~ and when it’s my turn to talk, all I come up with is: “hi, my name is Lee ~ I’m a wannabe writer ~ I’m here because I want to be a more genuine writer ~ and get there without stumbling and looking like a fool” I think the ‘fool’ part caught people’s attention because this morning, over breakfast, some of the members felt inclined to tell me what they think ~ Ronald says it doesn’t look like I have much ‘structure’ in my life ~ and I go “you must have watched me pack” ~ then I become aware that everyone is decked out in th

 My roommate Gregg and I sit in the hot springs until 3 am ~ having another late night discussion ~ he’s in the middle of doing research for a book he’s writing ~ and says that humans are not the most intelligent species on earth ~ at best ~ we come in a distant third ~ whales and dolphins are much smarter ~ in fact, he says, whales evolved wireless Internet millions of years before Al Gore ~ they communicate with each other by sending ‘sonar messages’ ~ across a world wide web ~ that can be heard by whales in any ocean on the planet ~ he has physical evidence to prove it ~ and shows me 8 by 10 glossy photos of a whale’s brain ~ pretty impressive ~ much more convoluted than a human ~ I ask him if it's because they have such a large body to control ~ he says no ~very little of it is ‘motor cortex’ ~ those functions were distributed to areas outside the brain a long time ago.

I sleep through morning workshop ..and breakfast too. I stop by the kitchen and prepare a bowl of yogurt and granola ~ I’m sitting in the lodge, writing, when I suddenly feel overcome with fear ..it’s almost noon and the workshop members will be arriving soon. Afraid that they’ll think I’m a slacker ..I get up to leave ..but it’s too late, they’re already here and the instructor is bearing down on me like a hawk ~ I panic ..scramble for an excuse ..and blurt out something like “I’m still adjusting to Esalen time” ..immediately realizing what a bullshit statement that was. When the adrenaline fades ..I see him more clearly (first principle) ~ he’s just walking by ~ smiling from ear to ear ~ gently saying “Good morning Lee” ~ and it occurs to me that he wasn’t looking for an explanation at all ..but I was too busy looking for one to see that.

Arrival: Weather reports inform me that I’m heading into a storm ~ it’s already reached the coast of Monterey and moving toward Big Sur fast ~ I need fortification now ~ I stop at a subway shop in San Luis Obispo and instruct the preparer how to make my usual spinach and avocado salad ~ and put it inside an Italian roll ~ he thanks me and says that he’s never made one like that before ~ I put the top up on the alfa and inch my way to Big Sur ~ on a winding mountain road ~ in the fog and rain ~ on a pitch-black night ~ with the ocean moving hundreds of feet below. I’m scared shitless.

At 3:00 o’clock in the afternoon, my thoughts become disordered ..Ron is talking, but his words are out of sequence ..like a movie soundtrack playing randomly. I try to compensate for this by reading his lips ..when suddenly he turns into a movie character ..which starts me laughing hysterically. I tell him he looks like ‘Vincent D’Onofrio’ ..but he looks at me quizzically like he doesn’t know what I’m talking about ..then he morphs into an alien from another planet ..and I freak. “Who the fuck are you ..!?” I scream ..and watch a succession of bewildered expressions cross his face .. each one too exaggerated to be real ..and just what I’d expect from someone who’s not what they seem. His eyes shift nervously from side to side ..and I detect a hint of urgency in his voice.