Being Seen…..

There is a documentary about Anthony Bourdain that is making the rounds. There seems to be some kind of cult with him and his life. He somehow rose up to be part of the gurus of culture and culinary expertise. His nomadic “parts unknown” fueled the imagination and cult of travel as a way of life. Designing a new kind of man born out of addiction and self reflection/absorbed/deeply lost…. privilege. Another white guy showing us the riches of other places, people, cultures. Framed by the camera to show just enough of the exotic to make it desirable. To stir a romantic longing in each of us.

The faux reality of his TV personality filled homes while the dust of his true being gather together in piles that no one saw. Vulnerable to the whims of networks, ratings and creating more and more content to satisfy the voyeuristic perverse cult of his created self… in the end he could not make the dust of his behind the scenes come to life as pixels do on a flat screen.

The virtual world is a hollow vessel. The mechanism of social media has robbed many of dignity. Many beg to be noticed.. To belong. Yet, this insatiable world of capitalism and branding is computed by the algorithms of trends, hashtags, and being seen…. relevant. Selling your data to have access…. discounts…. The odd friendships of “likes” and “following”…. some people we knew long before this screen world others are part of that weird way we are degrees apart… networked into webs of connections. Your virtual visibility becomes more important than your content… the real you is a ghost the the machine….

To make a living in this is a complicated art and science. Some are selling an angle to get ahead…. others sexualing their content…. then there is just straight lies and misinformation. The algorithms tally and out comes the percentage of visibility…. or you just pay up to get more visibility. We are more connected than ever and yet we feel so far a part. So unseen, felt or heard….

The star dust of our being is burning out behind the screen. Our pixelation is not the measure of our humanity. We are not being seen.

Find Words….

My mind has been dry in the word department. I think it is about the elusive pursuit of an idea. Finding grace in this moment we find ourselves in. It seems we are standing on the shifting tides and sands of the who, what and why of us. Nothing seems certain and we are plagued by a virus of identity as well as a real virus that haunts our inadequate response to it.

I don’t think there is any place or people who is not affected by this. Some have the economic insulation that keeps them in the playgrounds near the edge of space and some are fighting just to breathe the next breath. The planet is simultaneous burning and downing… It could be a “Revelation” of sorts…. a carnival of tragic consequences created by the comic errors of ignorance and the greed of certain people. The best of and worst of times….. A tale we weave each day to create hopefully a meaningful existense without the intuitions and rhymes from the cacophony that drove our days before Covid.

There are no Knights to save us… The Priests are silent….. The politicians trip over themselves to posture positions and policies. This world is changing faster than our minds. The bigger cycles of time are rotating. Our once strong veneer of of power is in the entropy of cracking and pitting. It can not for long hold it’s shape and forms….. collapse is coming…. migration is coming….

Some of it we will not change. Evolutionary success is in adaptations. Ask the horseshoe crab…. they know….

As intense and difficult the challenges we face are there is hope. We probably won’t know the outcome or the storyline too far ahead…. nor the plot twists for power or divergence. Life has a tenacity to live. It finds a way. We need to tap into that and awaken the sleeping soul with in us. It’s not a religion. It’s not a Political ideology.

It is our humanity.

Spring Reminds Us of the Eternal Sun…

It is a fool’s day. The first day of April is met with freezing temperatures and snow. Yesterday the purple crocuses sang and stretched towards the sun. We live in times of change and the Earth mocks us for wanting a stable, predictable set of seasons…. Spring will come. It always does and with it the renewed passion to be in the world.

My move is almost complete. I am very happy to have the space to create a new chapter in my life and work. So much to process into art and beautiful things. I’m also looking forward to teaching small groups (2 to 6 ) people in the studio once it is set up. There will be drums, rattles, books and more to be made. Methods and ways to be shared. I am very excited to have this unfold.

A commonplace book…..

I will also be offering The Refurb Cafe & Fix It once a month once the weather is warmer. This is born out of my desire to create a less disposable world and to empower people to fix things. This will be a day long gathering with herbal tea and you get stuff fixed or figure out a way to upcycle into something new. Bring that lamp that needs wiring or that really cool thingie that needs something…scissors or knives that need sharpening…. etc…. There will be a donation jar or other ways to support it. More info to come as things are come together this Spring.

Happy Spring 😊

Life’s Rich Demand…..

I haven’t  written  in a while. The trauma of the last few weeks after the election have had me glued to the bizzare and terrifying unfolding of the last unhinged push by this administration to keep power. My heart ways heavy with the 400,000 dead and the still climbing numbers of covid infections. The economic tragidies and all the battering that has befallen this country. To clean up after a mad man is going to consume the next few yeas of this country. Many of us took to the streets to support Black Lives and fought a war with our keyboards and facts takng the lances and arrows of critisism form strangers and those we thought we knew. Hate seeped into our lives and stained the carpets with its reminder that tolerance is not a cure. It only bought time for them to reload and come back with better amunition.

The divides in this country are big…. which means our ideas and visions for the future must be bigger. It is so much more than just needing to regain the ground lost, we must push so far forward as to catch up with the rest of the world. This country’s derailed binge of ego dopamine laced power struggle needs to sit in the detox. Our egos and pride will not get us out of this. What we know will not necessarily give us the correct ideas or motivation…. we need to find a spiritual awakening of sorts…. not religous…. spirtitual. The inner work that heals the pain and cultivates our humanity.

Coming out of a binge is hard. The physical, emotional spiritual pain wants the medicine that worked in the past. It is so easy to slip back into what we know than face the unknown…. But that is where it begins….. that first step thing…. that thousand mile journey thing begins somewhere….

All these things are part of my current awareness. I think about how I want to participate in the next cycle of change. I look at my skill set to see how I can utilize what I know and can do to support, design and create the future. Also, listen to what is needed. Witness. Stand together.

I look forward to the new administration coming in. I have faith in their competence and will do what I can to make it successful.

The Year End Message….

“I think we can all say the 2020 was a year for finding clarity in our lives…….”

A lot can happen in 365 days. Each day can seem like it’s own universe of time and space. Infinite in possiblites and endless in all the ways things can go wrong. Awe inspiring and soul crushing. This year has offered it all in blazing colors. My year started as a Traveling Shaman making my way a cross the country. I saw friends, taught workshops and gave lectures, offered prayers in some of the most beautful of places and I experienced the shifting tides of the political/economic climate of this country.

When I left California in February after driving down route 1 watching a pod of 8 whales meander south along with me… I knew things were going to change. I had no real idea how, what or why…. but I knew…..

As this year ends I am living in Littleton New Hampshire. Not a place on my radar for settling yet the universe provides as long as we show up and do the work. I am looking at the time here to grow my Rooted Therapies practice, expand on a the Terra Mater Sphere Designs for better health and living, and to work in the studio and create from the experences of my travels.

I have so much graditude for all the people who have anchored and supported me during this year. ( I will hopefully get everyone’s name/community here. If not you are in my heart and part of this love/graditude … This year has been like electro shock therapy with the resulting memory loss… I will do my best….) Perrin, Gina, Cindy, Kelly, Margaret, Rene, Ruthie, Anne, Phil, Nan, Alissa, Madalena, Tasha, Jody, Glee, Harold, Laura, Triple Spiral community of Nyack NY, India, Isaac, Josh, Carolyn, Janet, The dowsing communities across the country, the ORI folks, the RED Earth Community in Colorado, Rebecca, Sarah, Susan, Tom, my Patreons, All those who have commissioned and purshased items through my Adhizen Etsy Shop, The numerous and amazing people who offered kindeness during my travels…. Mary, Josephina, Alison, Ann, Astrid…. Marie, Lincoln, Tim, and everyone else.

There is so much to do as this year ends and we look to fight and create the world we want after Covid and Trump. If our isloation has served anything it is hopefully to recognize our need to work as a diverse community together to find resolutions to the issues we face in the enviornment, ecomony, health and welfare of each other and the planet.

I wish you all a Blessed holiday season, health and abundance into the New Year.


40 years ago today John Lennon was assasinated. I was an awkward 16 year old sophmore going to an Arts high school in New Haven Connecticut. Raised on the music of the Beatles. My Family had both the the blue and red anthology albums. My peers and I all knew the lyrics to John Lennon”s song Imagine. It is a beautiful song with a beautiful idea…. Who wouldn’t want peace and love… no more war… but like the title “Imagine” it was just that in our minds…. a dream. A puff of smoke for some.

My generation and I were the by-product progeny of the 60’s counter culture more or less. We were bridging the gap…. looking to find our way… break things…. discover things… rebell and show we had ideas… and good ones… And Lennon’s music was part of our sound track. We were respectful of his mastery. We were told he was brilliant. He was an icon. A celebrity. Some how a magical profit of words and music. Like the lyrics to Instant Karma “We all shine on, Like the moon, the stars and the Sun….” It’s gonna get you…. It got him. The fragile idenity of who you are and what others think of you…. the dance of power and fame…. One man’s bullet…. and suddenly the mystic was gone…. the prophet gone…. the space he left behind became an abyss of folklore and history. He became mythic and messiah…. larger than life…. a God…. not a man… idealized….

Lennon voice when he sings Norweigan Wood has always stuck to me. That simple song. I can’t help thinking the melody was co-opted from some old folk song. Timeless it hangs in the radiowaves that pass through time and space. An ear worm I sometimes have to find distraction from…. ” I once had a girl or should I say she once had me….” …..” she asked me to stay and told me to sit any where. I looked around and noticed there wasn’t a chair…” My understanding of the lyrics have changed as I have grown. It is part of what I would call my archtypal music. Something to sing at a fire under the moon or while driving to fend off the road ghosts.

In 40 years it didn’t get better. There are more bullets and guns. Their is more war and hatred. The planet struggles to keep up with us. The poor get poorer and the rages of a plague that has taken so many. Money and media have produced Gods of power and celebrity. Leaving so many to imagine a world they might not every be part of.

I do not want to imagine. I want to live, collaborate, cooperate, create, build, take action and be part of a world that cares about itself and the relationship it has to its health and well being…. for all beings. Mr. Lennon you gave us the vision and we gave you (the man) all the power. With that we look to your ghost for the answers instead of inside us. In 4 decades you became a symbol that embodies so much about what we want and yet you are an empty icon that we admire and some worship to our detriment. Just like that Jesus fellow…. We just do not get it and that is why we are here now.

The Grace of 2020

The sky held it’s blue

Still…. as the winds and clouds brushed along the the edges of the terrain. Waves rolled in rhymes to meet the sand as plovers rushed along looking for tiny crustaceans. Gulls floated effortlessly in the clumsy way they catch the winds.

The Sun rose each day marking the journey of cosmic time each day a little longer and warmer to stir the seeds of sleeping harvests. Icy rain slid down the trunks of trees as night filled with the calls of Owls. The restlessness. Each day’s light lingered to meet the moon as she made her way up from the horizon….

The bees drunk on pollen sleep in squash blossoms while trees full of leaves sway with the breeze. Storm clouds rise with the humidity of the day. While the smooth waters part as ducks swim into the grasses. Hawks rest on fence posts. Cars drive past…

The cicadas buzz the canopies and leave their earth armor on the bark of trees. Their last day is made to create new life and die ….they fall and feed the soil. Ants marching into tunnels filled with eggs carrying the remains.

The lichens disolve the stone, to create minerals, that enrich the soil, to feed the trees that hold the birds, that shade the earth, that the stars birth in the cosmos that time and space built.

Hazy Shade of Winter….

“look around

leaves are brown

and the sky is a hazy shade of winter…”

Simon and Garfunkle

The election behind us mostly and the transition from one administation to another begins. Like the turning cycles of the seasons, power has it’s way of resisting the larger rhythms of Sun and Moon…. the plants still wither with the cold wind and the seeds drop into the soil to sleep. The last bits of food and nurishment are removed and stored. Winter. The time of cold and contrasts…. deep dreaming…. root vegitables and long stretches of time reflecting on the year that has passed and the one waiting in the wings for curtain call.

This winter is particulary difficult. Covid is ravaging the country. The shift of political power is being challenged. The disquieting threat of violence of those who feel entitled to support a dying regime. Economic dysfunction and the long roads to recovery and sanity. These winter dreams will be nightmarish for some as we navigate some of the most difficult challenges some of us have ever experience.

This Winter is not about just going into the dark. It is tearing open the dark and shining flood lights on the contents. To see… to discern… to act and to make real the dreams and visions of the world we want to live in.

Dreams become real because we dare to risk the complacency of self comfort against the action to walk into the unknow. This is the call to the journey. The hero’s call if we want to use the metaphor from Joeseph Cambell’s book, “Hero With A Thousand Faces”… We walk into the dark forest… the valley of death…. We face the reality of who we are against the challenges that arise.

This winter in this country we have to face the intitutionalize racism, classism, the need to find a way out of this pandemic, how do we feed, house and take care of a nation of people barely holding on? How do we face down and defeat the tyranny of political power that will destroy all that is good in this country?

We open our eyes in the dark….. We become awake in the dream…. We do the next right thing that serves the geatest good.

Mobius Journey….

Some times as we go though the toughest of times the victory seems the goal. We celebrate triumphant. The victory is the sweet recovery of power. Things shift. The world after the darkness sees light and hope. This election has brought these feelings of success. The crowds dance and celebrate. The era of Trump is ending. We over came our diveristy to unite in the renaissance of our demoncracy. The country is a shade of Biden/Harris blue and the red tide of hate is fighting it’s last stand…. (between a crematorium and a sex toy shop). The president stomps his feet and knows he is heading to a long march that will bring him to face all his corruption. There is something sweet and bitter about all of it.

These last 4 years have show all the fractures in the perfect persona of 1st world fascade. We petented to be great and mighty while the people with black and brown skin lived in fear and inequal opprtunies. The injustices forced on them are woven into the value their bodies and minds are to a system of jails, poverty, war, and bigatry. They are seen as a commodity for corporations that corrupt the justice and educational systems at the expense of their lives. Yes, we won this election yet, the hard and real work will be to build a better country for everyone. Everyone. That is the most important thing to stress and act on right on.

One of my teachers said a society is only as healthy as the sickest people in it. In this country it is not only racial issues, it is LGBTQ issues, addiction issues, class issues, climate issues, resource issues, housing issues, wage issues, infrasructures…. the list is long and speaks to the neglect that has been dismissed as not real in the systematic gaslighting of America.

“We the people” have been dismissed for the cults of celebratity and corporate power that have stole the values and free thinking minds of generatons. To be a famous in this system is the goal. It gives you everything power, money, luxury, influence regardless of your experience or the collateral damage of your actions.

Sell the rest of the people a religion of consumerism as the metric for self worth, medicate the mind to not feel the failure in not meeting the unurealist goals…. this has been distroyng lives for generations. We have so much to do.

Which is why it is so important to not be caught up in the victory. We haven’t won. We have started. We have to roll up our sleeves and get some dirt under our nails. What we get done in the next 2 years will determine the direction we as a country move in and in the greater co-operation and coordination of the world.

The title of this essay refers to the single sided form called a mobius strip. You can start anywhere and follow it around and you will end up where you began. For me it is symbolic of how time and life work. There is a oness to everything and away that time passes and the movement of the journy takes us to see from differnt perspectives. Eventually leading back to the starting point.

Threshold  to the Winter Dreaming

The sun is well on it’s  way to the southern hemisphere. The first snow sticks to the branches and the last leaves on the trees. Temperatures fall as the sun hangs lower in the sky.

In the Celtic tradition, this is the turning of the wheel to begin a new cycle. The New Year.  Things begin  to freeze and solidify. The growth of Spring and Summer are now the harvests of a year in turmoil… the wheel wobbles along. This year the date of the full moon and Samhain coincides with an election that hangs so much on participation in the outcome of ideologies and political direction. It is marked by long lines snaking about in some slow motion snake- like spiral dance. The metaphor of transcendence and and transformation…. shedding the old…. the skin that no longer serves. Releasing one’s self from the delusions, perceptions and thinking that has been the underlying cause of this country’s current state….

This snake of humanity feels the constricting of the year’s struggles and the internal growth that has become the awakening. The skin of old ideologies becomes irritating. Useless. The eyes become blind for a time…. the senses dull… and then the skin tears… the renewed snake slips out. Shiny and ready for the winter.

Sheading. Leaving behind the things that no longer serve. Taking the harvests of ideas and actions into the cave of winter dreaming to build the architectures of a new humanity.