EdenWold Update

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The center of “Little Bear Hill” at the new EdenLight Garden.  The front rock is about 600 lbs.

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Another view of the bulb garden at EdenLight from mid December.   It’s much greener now.

 

The ‘EdenWold’ Trilogy is my most joyful creative focus in the past year.

With the comfort of EdenLight Garden having a new home at the Indian Valley Campus of the College of Marin, the books have been unfolding at a level I hadn’t experienced before.

In the garden, against a curved hillside, I completed a series of  intersecting dry stacked stone planter beds, totaling a little over a hundred feet of wall.     In them I planted about 2000 bulbs, including all kinds of Narcissus (Daffodils, Tazettas, Paperwhites, miniatures), Freesias, Dutch Iris, Allium, Ixia, Grape Hyacinth, and misc. others that should naturalize.    I also mixed in a variety of local wildflowers, including native ferns and about 50 Douglas Iris and Iris microsiphon.     In the center is a large heart of about 200 Amaryllis belladonna – the Naked Lady – which is now green with foliage, and in August will be pink with the candy scented blossoms: the two heart chakra colors.    There are also several giant Scilla, that send up 5′ spires of white blooms.     Off center in the heart is a simple ‘sculpture’ of 2 rocks that look like a little bear, so I’ve called this part of EdenLight “Little Bear Hill.”

We’re having good rains this winter and many of the bulbs are already showing their noses and buds.

Those being “put to bed”, it is the books which are receiving the most fertile assistance from the Spirit muses.

The Trilogy, titled “EdenWold, Tales from the New Earth”, are separately titled: ‘In the Beginning’ ,  ‘Being the Becoming’,   and ‘Worlds Without End’.

‘Worlds Without End’ is becoming so long, I’m going to have to redivide the ‘beginnings’.

Most notably, while much of the narrative came to me while out in the woods or up on Mt. Burdell at night, a lot of recent material has appeared while dreaming in bed.

Even more fun, is how this is increasingly synchronous with my waking life.

I was working on a chapter that incorporates the game of golf into EdenWold.    Though I don’t golf, I’ve known many people who considered being on the golf course their idea of Heaven.     My late father in law Ed Koepke had 5 holes in one on the NCR Golf Course in Dayton, Ohio.     My brother in law, Dave, 69, and a survivor of brutal cancer, still shoots in the 70s.     My son in law, Andy Staples, who lives in Phoenix, lives his dream designing and building golf courses all over America.    He has copyrighted a program called “Community Links” which incorporates activities other than golf itself into what are generally beautiful venues that are increasingly challenged to attract municipal funding.

The other morning, ideas for the golf chapter were popping up in a dream, including a cameo for Andy.    When I woke up, only minutes later, I saw on the face of my cell phone  a text from Andy, saying: “Hey, Dad, do you want to have lunch in Mill Valley tomorrow?”    I don’t get to see him, or my daughter Ashley and their three boys, often enough.

We had a great lunch at Joe’s Taco Lounge next door to the 2 AM Club, which was featured on the cover of Huey Lewis’ “Sports” album.    Mill Valley has hired Andy to consult on a remodel of the municipal Mill Valley Golf Course.     A non-coincidental side bar to the synchronicity was,  I had been trying to contact my friend Evy McPherson, who lives nearby, but hadn’t heard back yet.    I got there at 11:15, and Joe’s didn’t open until 11:30.    Not quite sure what time Andy was going to get there, I was texting him, looked up, there he was coming down the sidewalk texting me, and there was Evy in the nail spa next to Joe’s watching both of us.

It is clear to me that the quality of my writing skills have improved over many years of unpublished practice.     I started EdenWold in 2011.     As the narrative approaches completion, I know there are several new things to look forward to:    A massive re-edit, and that funk I generally go into when I’ve completed a creative project I’ve been joyfully immersed in.    It was no different with pieces of sculpture that took a year to complete.

Of course I hope to share EdenWold with the ‘real’ world, which means getting published one way or the other.     Something I believe is more than just my ego, believes the planet needs this kind of engagingly positive input.    It needs it more than ever in human history, for there is really no guarantee the ‘human experiment’ will be successful.    It requires a racial commitment to something that is being seriously threatened by what can only be described as ‘The Dark Side.’     There is no reason to descend into personal darkness, when the One Light, of which the darkness is but a part (with its own agenda) is in every cell of our bodies.     Every second is a choice, and we must each decide who is doing that choosing for us.     The rampant wholesale distractions of discouragement need not prevail.

I am in conversation with my friend Laura Almada, a gifted artist and mystic in her own right, to illustrate the three book covers.     Laura taught me the power of crystals and minerals, and more importantly to know that all such aids are but “training wheels for the mind.”  I know I’m capable of doing the covers, but  believe she will do a more magical job – because she is very good and dreams in her creations as well.

Before heading back to their home in Edenholm, the expeditionary force of Dragon, and his complement of a dozen passengers (who aren’t all the original cast of characters he began with), and who have been long on the sky road, are unknowingly about to rediscover Chaco Canyon, which Girl had briefly transported them in and out of when she took them to Charyn Canyon in Kazakhstan to meet some historically important humans.

I’m not yet sure who will be there when they arrive.

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Rumi

It has only taken me seventy years to begin to grasp the elegant truth in the writings and teachings of ancient mystics like Lao Tzu or Rumi.

My current favorite is this concise and all encompassing metaphor from Rumi, the Thirteenth Century Persian poet:

“You are not a drop in the ocean.

You are the ocean in a drop.”

I only wish I could have come up with such a brilliant and fat free description of the God within us all.

An Attachment to Photographs

The problem (or not) with seeing so much beauty in things, and also having a handy device that captures pretty good, or even excellent, images – often better than the eye/mind perceives  them, is the accrual of so many ephemeral memories that were but wonderful illusion.    These bites of the past should not be confused with the universal nature of things, which has no form at all, and only exists in this inherently ever-changing, and more importantly: changeable by whatever our beliefs happen to be, moment.

And I’m still attaching myself to such foregone moments like crazy, though I’m working diligently toward a less attachment based reality.    I’m not a practicing Buddhist but fully get that attachment is indeed the source of all suffering.

Democracy?

How can there possibly be a democratic process when we have a misinformed populace, lobbies, and an electoral college?     Impossible; so we don’t.     We have something quite different than the myth, and there are currently no stable systems in place to fix it.

However, we do all have the ability to awaken out of selfishness, whether we exercise that genetic gift or not.     Sheep probably don’t have that unexploited advantage.

Our Everything

Everything we think about is the birth (or rebirth) and cultivation – an invitation and manifestation – of a new (or recycled) reality.   To become ascended Masters, we must first master our thoughts, otherwise they only continue to be our masters.

These may or may not be my own words, as this knowledge is the ancient understanding of the Law of Attraction.   The truth in them has nothing – and everything – to do with Me.   However, what I am able to do with this basis of all possibilities is my purpose.

The effects our thoughts have on the physical universe are not yet taught on a socially useful scale, and are more often discouraged on a grander scale.   We can heal ourselves with gratitude.    We can perform miracles with our heart connection to the Source of all things, for we are part of that very source, just as it is part of each of us.

Not understanding how miracles occur is symptomatic of our greatest racial challenge.

The evolution from the limiting and attachment driven state of selfishness. along with all the pain and disfunction it generates, to the universally liberating state of selflessness and the yet rarely experienced state of synchronous well being it creates, has depended on our having seemingly endless experiences of pain.   The Divine, and the Ascended Masters (who have mostly been folks like you and me) hold no judgement toward our unconscious actions, but may be wondering just how much of it we really need to rejoin them.

Our individual uniqueness is perhaps our greatest gift, secondary only to our core unity.   Of course we shall figure this all out in our infinitely unique ways as we inevitably evolve out of the preoccupation that were are somehow separate, or more important than anything else.

Soon would be nice.

EdenWold Update

In the trilogy, EdenWold, which I began in 2011, somewhere in book 3, EdenWold: Tales from the New Earth, ‘Worlds Without End’,  Faith the unicorn,Ebon the Pegasus, Jesus, 12 of his Anasazi friends, and Dragon Air’s entire entourage, are about to depart Chaco Canyon for a similar place in Kazakhstan, called Charyn Canyon, where they will meet a pair of conjoined Muslim twins who share one heart and were the last humans on AuldWold to awaken, completing the critical mass necessary for Gaia’s ascension…..

Writing this narrative is probably my most joyful channeling experience.    It comes in in complete 3D, including sight, sound, and smell.   I hope to have it completed in the first half of 2019.

Happy Thanksgiving!

NAMING THINGS

What’s in a name?

I was having one of those moments I could feel in my solar receiver area, that a revelation was practically ready to drip off my tongue.     There came not a drop, not even the first letter or shape of a word.

But better yet, there came a voice in my head  that said, “You already know it.     When you stop needing to give it a name, you will be closer.”

To give something a name does place a unique and powerful limitation upon that being named, with the limitation part outweighing the uniqueness.     This is only significant in a universe where everything is simply a unique aspect of the same thing.   Like the universe we are part of.

All naming implies and imparts a unique ‘separateness’.      When we dwell on the ‘differences’ that constitute aspects of our unity with all things, we tend to devalue, and therefore forget, our sacred totality.

For me, the learning by naming began with my earliest memories:  wanting to know the name of every wildflower in the woods near our house.    Things like Jack-in-the-pulpit, Blue eyed Mary, Solomon’s seal, and Bloodroot.    It seems, in a way, with the natural world at least, that with the names we give things we are imparting some finite aspect of our own humanity.

What if everything was only identified consciously by its appearance, sound, smell, color, texture, possible purpose, or ability to respond, without any kind of judgement or valuation?      It would probably be hard to write about without words.

I’m not sure if that was the elusive revelation or not.

 

Keeping in Touch

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Several nights earlier, from a lower elevation.

Sitting high on Mt,. Burdell in the dark, waiting for the waxing yet still bright moon to appear; the view is of my neighborhood of San Marin in the near foreground, a string of bright pearls moving north and one of luminous rubies going south (which are Highway 101), then a dark horizontal line that is San Pablo Bay, and a thin horizon of twinkling lights that are Richmond and San Pablo in the East Bay.    And then mostly sky.

The tree crickets are stridulating away,  Mars is still bright in my face after half a year in the same sector of sky, and I am very comfortable sitting on the ground with my back against a thick trail sign post.

It was when I  told Gaia (yes, I talk to our planet) straight up and in no uncertain terms, that I had the greatest seat in the entire multiverse, that a warm glow flowed right up through my boots and feet into my legs.

Like most mothers, she’s always happy to hear from those who love her.