I remember Kyle asking me if I wanted to go to a
Buddhist monastery somewhere near Carmel in California. I agreed
and we started hitching and walking to Carmel. We asked directions
there in Carmel to a Buddhist monastery somewhere in those hills. We did
get a ride to the side road that went into the mountain where the monastery
was located. We started walking up the winding road when some Buddhist
monks came along in a car. They were just coming back from the city. They
knew where we were going because the road only went to the monastery.
They gave us a ride the rest of the way.
The monastery was set in front of a rock faced cliff.
It looked as if some of the buildings were carved out of the stone, something
like Mount Rushmore. Other wooden buildings were set in the foreground.
I think that it had been some kind of resort at one time.
When we arrived, they let us in, and they said that
we would have to beg for everything. We wandered around, looked into
their chapel, and watched as some said their prayers. They gave us
an empty wooden bowl and said we were to beg for something to eat.
I didn't like that, but Kyle was determined. So, we begged and received
brown rice and an orange. We sat on the ground, making a peaceful
ceremony of eating and enjoyed what we got. We watched some men working
who were not in Monk robes. They seamed eager to please and were pleasant
to talk to. They were digging holes out by the garden. We asked one of
the robed monk who they were and what they were doing. He said that
they were the most spiritually enlightened. After begging and eating,
they showed us something that was close to enlightenment for them.
They walked us to one of the rock buildings and
told us to come in. When we got inside, we felt the warmth of hot
water. We ended up near a deep rectangular pit chiseled from the
rock, a hot spring of their very own. They said we could go in.
We went in, and it was hot, but it was good. We could understand how they
could be enlightened. The water was fine.
They said that if we were to stay there at the monastery,
that we would have to do what they said. Coming from my background,
begging was not about to happen. I had begged all my life for some
understanding, and seeing the light at the end of the tunnel was something
new to me, even if it was sometimes purple. I was not going to dig
another tunnel for them to see the light that I was already seeing.
Kyle was ready for the challenge, but I was not. I refused.
I wanted to do whatever I wanted. Kyle was upset, but he came back
to Morningstar anyway.
+
There ought to be a law against people like me who wake up and look
at the day with such
great optimism. This morning was so goddamn nice, it had rained over
night and it had
cleaned the air. The sun was shinning on the new green grass, giving
me a deep emotional
lift. I felt good about my self and the world surrounding me. It is
easy to get self-centered,
when an overwhelming pleasure surrounds your body.
I looked on the map and found the Buddhist Monastery that Kyle and
I visited. It is called
Tassajara Buddhist
Meditation Center.
http://www.intrex.net/chzg/default.htm
I apparently learned a lot from these folks in one day and did not know
it. Thanks Folks.
I am not into any organized form of religious practice. I have picked
up pieces of
information from whatever body comes in contact with me. Be it a job,
being, sight, book, TV,
news or a wonderful day.
Thanks to Lou
Thanks to
Tassajara Buddhist Meditation Center & Hot Springs
"Carrying water and chopping wood are the
activities of the Buddha,"
"The everyday mind is Buddha," are two of
the most well known Zen sayings.
***
I don't know how I met Doris. I guess I was
around and so was she. Maybe it had something to do with the poison
oak all over my body. She was truthful and told me from the start
that she was a wench in training. To say the least it was difficult
with that woman, but it was sometimes very good. She was always going
to the edge.
We palled around together something like yin and
yang. She had friends in Berkeley we would go see and get turned
on with. I saw a Purple Haze looking out of a Berkeley apartment
building with her. It was awesome.
Four of us decided to go to a national park -- Doris
and I, and Kyle and I think Kathy. (Someone tell me if I am wrong).
We had to watch out for the ranger as this park
was not for tourists. Anyway, when we got there, we liked it so much
that we decided to stay. It turned out that food was going to be
a problem. So Kyle and I decided to go to the city to score some
food. The night before we left the girls picked some mushrooms
and other wild herbs. They cooked some brown rice, and I think we
had a little miso. We had a fine dinner at dusk, cleaned up, and
climbed into our sleeping bags. Some time during the night Doris
woke me and said that something was wrong. "Feel my pulse," she said.
I felt her pulse. It was beating maybe 30 beats per minute.
It was very spookie. I knew then that she had poisoned herself with
the mushrooms, and she agreed. I said, "Let your pulse be normal."
We both knew that she was going to be alright. In a few minutes her
pulse had returned to normal.
At dawn Kyle and I left the girls in the mountains,
saying that we would be back with some commodities. To this day I
do not know why we did it, but we did. Just to go to town and bring back
some food. Town was San Francisco, not many miles away. But,
it was down the mountain and through the woods. We got to the city
at about noon. We went to the blood bank. Kyle gave blood,
but they refused me because I had had scarlet fever when I was a young
boy. I did not know what to do. I needed money quickly.
I decided to call my dad. Maybe he could wire me some money.
I did, and he sent $20.00, which is what I had asked for.
It was getting dark, so we decided to wait until
morning to pick up our groceries.
Kyle met some friends of his and they turned us
onto some fine acid. This guy said, "Let's go up to my pad.
You can crash there for the night." His place was an apartment overlooking
the Haight. The Haight was what you think it would look like, Heads and
more Heads, colors and a maze of friendliness and activity. In the apartment
they told me to sit down, and that they would be right back. It was dark
out, the city was aglow, I sat on a cushion with my back to the windows
overlooking the Haight. I was starting to get high, when Kyle came
back, he was with a street musician. This young man opened his case
and pulled out his violin. I was still sitting on the cushion.
He started playing classical music of the sixties, his own. Kyle
had left again. Well, it was beautiful. He played for about
10 or 15 minutes. I had gone to Heaven. The air was filled
with the freedom of the wild beautiful violin music. His hair and body
were moving with beautiful exaggerations, flowing and moving with the music.
When he was done, he put his violin away and opened the door and left.
He never said a thing to me, his music had spoken to me. I sat there amazed
for about five minutes. We could imagine and just pause and think
how beautiful it really was. We could listen in our minds, we can
hear our music of choice, images in our minds of beautiful sounds. I could
imagine a siren, like an alarm clock ringing in the background, waking
us up, bringing us back to reality, bringing us back to reality.
Suddenly I heard the police siren. I got up
and went to the window and looked out. I saw a city police cruiser,
with lights flashing, and it was parked outside the window. (I forgot
to say that this was an upstairs apartment). Trouble, I thought to
myself, this is not your place. I got up, went to the door, and walked
out of the room and down the stairs. I opened the door for the police,
politely and with good manners. The policemen rushed in past me and
up the stairs they went. I never looked back. I did not know
where Kyle was, but I thought maybe he would be in the park. I
walked around the block wondering what to do, dazed. I noticed the
police cruiser behind me. I panicked internally, but externally I
was calm. They drove by, giving me a glance. I never wavered
as I headed for the park. Paranoia Strikes Deep. I found Kyle
in the park and we headed back to the girls. Almost back to the national
park, near its' edge, we met the girls leaving the area. We headed
back to Morningstar.
***
I met Olive Oil on the Haight, just in passing, an introduction, the
name was stuck in my brain. There is something about the fish and chips
wrapped in a newspaper cone and sharing. And we went our different ways.
I saw her name somewhere lately. Asking? I answered, there was no reply.
+
I met a stocky, blonde balding young man, he was standing below the
upper house at Morningstar. He may have been talking to Ambo, at this time
I had not known Ambo. I asked him how he got to Morningstar. He said that
he used to work for one of the free presses in San Francisco. He said that
they were leaning towards violence or being more militant. So he said he
had to leave.
***
Thanks to Lou
A discussion with Robbie:
Robbie was tall and handsome, long chocolate brown
hair and beard, the face the likeness of Jesus in Christian Churches everywhere.
He wore a brown wool blanket as you would imagine.
Robbie was a city person. He was always talking
about being at some happening, a concert, a Be In, a Love In, you name
it, he was there. Robbie was like the rest of us. He
would try most of the stuff around, but not everything. Everyone
knew the dangers of speed and heroin. We were not that way.
Robbie told me that some friend of his was going
to turn him on to some heroin. I told him that this is a big mistake,
that stuff was dangerous. He agreed with me and said, "Tomas, you're
right, but I'm going try it anyway." I said, "It is your life, be
careful."
After the weekend, I met Robbie again and asked
him how it went. He said it was great. I said now you know
how people get strung out. Is that it? (Hoping that his curiosity
was satisfied.) He said that if he was offered it again, he would
do it in a minute.
Thanks to Lou
***
The yoga class:
Pam reminded me of this in an e-mail recently.
Lou, Ramon, and most of the commune were gifted in Yoga class. I,
well, I was not so gifted. I could never stick my foot up my ass.
I would most likely stick my foot in my mouth. This was practiced
most of time I was out there. Laurel says that I'm still able to
stick my foot in my mouth.
I understood what we were doing, cleansing our bodies
and our souls. But, I mostly would have to clean my foot.
Ramon took me to town to meet his special Yoga teacher
and friend. He tried.
Thanks to Lou
***
I am walking in the direction of the lower house. My mind lost in the
space before me, daydreaming, I am the being moving forward. I have past
Lou's cabin as I come near the fig tree. Joanie comes quickly from the
frame tree house to my right, she walks up to me and says,
" Tomas will you marry me?" I am stunned, Joanie and Ramon are together
as one,
I say, "Duh?" She says, "Never mind." And walks away.
My mind is dumbfounded, I continue walking toward the lower house.
A moment later I am lost again in my own world of thought.
Thirty years later I know this a clue to something I do not know about.
***
The day of blue cheer and greed:
Someone had come back from the city with a plastic
sandwich bag full of blue cheer. As normal, any time someone came
to Morningstar, they would be greeted with, "Do you have any cigarettes?"
Most people would give up whatever they had, ending up as poor as the day
they wore born. That is why the population of Morningstar was always
growing.
Does anybody remember this guy who came in with
a Mercedes Benz auto and just dropped out? I think we had a meeting and
told him to take his car back a couple of days later. Far out!
Anyway, everyone ran to the person with the blue cheer. "Wet your
index finger" was the instruction, we dip our wet finger into the baggy
of blue cheer. Everyone complied, except for one young fellow who
wet his index and middle fingers. Everyone started on a tour of Morningstar
after sitting a spell. It was early morning and the dew was on the
grass. A perfect morning, and the guides were all ready. The
tour bus was about to leave. It was splendid, to say the least.
I traveled the path around the fences. As I came around the back
side of the property, I spied a circle of people standing as if viewing
Omnimax. I walked over to them, and they smiled and they turned their
heads toward a huge spider web. The sun was shinning through it.
Rainbows reflected in the dew on each strand. The colors were intense.
The colors were subtle. Rainbows reflected in the dew . . . rainbows
reflected in the morning dew . . . wet rainbows reflected off the morning
dew . . . we were reflected in the dew.
A moment of reflection....
After a while, I finally came back to the center
of Morningstar, which was near the garden near Lou's cabin. A young
man tripped and fell into a ditch that had recently been dug to lay a water
or drain line. He never saw it, as he was elsewhere. We ran
to his aid. He was flopping about like a fish, moving about in a
frenzy, and then later, foaming at the mouth. It was difficult to
grab him. We finally held him still, but he was still uncontrollable.
The women were remarkable. They started singing Amazing Grace and
mantras over and over again as he moved in our firm grasp. Then another
song, then another, then another. He listened while his mind swirled.
He listened to the comfort of song, a mother singing to her child, a sister
of mercy praying to the wounded soldier. He was finally soothed,
comforted and loved.
An hour later, finally under control, we turned
him loose. The women had soothed the wild beast, the young man.
He still wandered around stoned for quite a while. Later that afternoon,
someone had seen him walking on the highway stark naked toward town.
I do not think he was ever the same again.
I later read his account of the event from either
Ramon or Pam.
He is still alive, Thanks to the ladies of Morningstar
Thanks to Lou
***
I am looking back and remembering
the incident above with the blue cheer that came in a baggy. I see
that this was glorified to let people know about Morningstar. I know you
know there is more to Morningstar that some mythical acid trip (Slim Acid
Trip..). I remember at the time asking someone to call an ambulance. This
man needs some medical help, christ he is flopping in a ditch. The first
response from the ladies was no. No hold him still, ok, ok we will hold
him still. They sang to him, they sang like a mother to a crying child.
Women of the world unite. They did. And Slim lived.
I was young and immature at
the time, I was in seventh heaven, I had just seen god in a spider and
web and now I see a man trip and fall into a ditch, he immediately went
into a frenzy.
I did not know that the authorities
were waiting for just something like this to happen to shut Morningstar
down. The women all knew this, because all their men were taken to jail
prier to my arrival at Morningstar. This man lived to become a legend.
The women protected him to protect Morningstar. They still are very protective
about Morningstar in 1998.
When I arrived at Morningstar most of the men were
in hiding. So when Ramon or Pam write about some of the men, I do not know
them. I never met them or was in a stupor when I did meet them. They were
all new faces.
After I left Morningstar Laurel and I received letters
from Kathy, Ambo and Robbie. All these letters ask me to come home, they
never spoke of the harassment by the authorities. They only spoke of love
and friendship even though these people were harassed.
Delicate emotions have been stepped on by arrogance.
Wings pulled out like daisy petals.
Halos trimmed.
"Pretend you didn't see me."
Thanks to Lou
***
The state we are in is forced to be in requirement. No matter how we
try
to be free, the state (government) forces us to be in line with their
law. We are required by law to uphold the rules. Penalty is a fine,
imprisonment or a trip to a funny farm. Sometimes the removal of said
body to parts unknown works.
This document is a compromise of thought. Maybe by hearing an opinion
the confined world can be free to think of a solution.
badaba tomas
***
The Elder Statesmen of Smoke:
John was someone who always had smoke. Whenever
John was there, there would be a following. You could always find
John at the lower house.
We used John and he used us. I now cry in
shame knowing that if I didn't smoke then maybe John would be alive.
I know this is not true, but somehow I would like to believe it.
Hey, we used Lou. He made a statement and
stuck to it, and he paid the price. We had someplace to go.
Was I grateful? No. I was just a selfish young man. Hey,
he loved our spirit and youth. The same can be said about John.
He enjoyed our company and friendship.
John had to find ways to always have smoke.
I have an inkling that is what killed John. He told me how he got
his smoke.
John would go to town, buy some looseleaf Lipton
tea in a large box, then he would bag it in sandwich bags. He would
go to the Haight and stand around. When some young, green youngster
would come along, he would show them the lid of rolled up tea, wink, and
smile. "Would you like to buy some tea?" Wink!
He never lied to them. Wink! He just
sold them an ounce of tea for $5.00.
Thanks to Lou
***
Superman was a tall, lanky rail of a man with short
hair. "Uncle Sam" would be a good description of him.
+
I have seen his picture in the Morningstar Scrapbook, he had a lot
of hair.
So much for memory.
***
Who was the man who always played with his knife?
When I first met him, he was always throwing that knife in my direction.
He was testing me in some way, I suppose.
Did you ever see the sideshow man on the spinning
wheel and the other fellow throwing the knife? I felt like the man on the
spinning wheel.
A wiry man, he dressed sharp with his western shirts,
bellbottom dungarees, squared-toed leather boots, and a leather hat to
match. He had a place behind the barn.
+
While at Morningstar I had no clothes, bangle or beads.
I had nothing but my bare body.
Hair came out of my head and food went into my mouth.
When I went to town or when the weather was cold I put on clothes to
warm our body.
Traveling to town without clothes meant a night in jail in my mind.
Some folks at Morningstar wore leathers, bell-bottoms and jewelry.
They were cowboys, gypsies and swashbucklers that carried money and
had food, possessions and vehicles.
My place in life was just being. Style was vain.
Being without possessions was where my head was at.
The books that moved from person to person spoke of being one with
the universe.
We did not quite understand what that meant, but we gave up all worldly
goods and played the part.
My place in life was just being. Style was vain.
***
Testing
This was not done at Morningstar that I remember, but has happened
to since.
Have you ever done something to test for a reaction. Something like
putting something in their food. Then telling them later during the meal
to test for a reaction. Just to freak them out. I am usually not moved
by such treatment, but some beings in this world are not so thick skinned
as I.
Some people are sensitive to the mental pain.
Delicate emotions have been stepped on by arrogance.
Wings pulled out like daisy petals.
Halos trimmed.
"Pretend you didn't see me."
Thanks to Lou
***
Was Ambo also Gandolf? I think so.
***
Everyone loved to go to the courthouse. Why, you ask? Well, when the bailiff yelled, "The court is now in session," we would all make a run for the tall ash cans filled with sand and long butts -- very long butts. What a life.
***
Young lady in a dream:
I do not remember who she was, I do know who
she is. She floated about the barn in white chiffon, like an angel with
white florescent dreams. She spoke, said what she did, and no one paid
no mind. She was there to observe and that is what she did. She was a mystery,
vague. Someone knows who she is, they can copy and paste our dreams into
a white mosaic pattern. She has heard my cries of passion. She was above
and Doris was below. Like an angel sent from God, quiet, and in the background.
Heavenly, chaste, celibate, in white chiffon she walked around quietly,
speaking hardly a word, bow and quiver in hand. An Angelic cream complexion
and curly blonde hair.
I would always tease her. About what? About sex,
Doris and I were ravenous. Her bunk was above Doris's wooden corner bunk
in the barn.
I thought I had met her here in Kentucky. Laurel
introduced me to a co-worker of hers. I took one look at her and thought,
"My God, the Angel of Morningstar." As the years have passed, I learned
that this women in Kentucky is not the Angel of Morningstar. She is an
Angel here. I have apologized to her for the confusion.
While reading the Digger Archives, I have seen
vague references to her by ...... Mystery lady, call so that I may know
you. I will introduce you to Laurel and her co-worker. We will chat and
talk over e-mail.
+
I know who she is, she has aged gracefully, writes wonderful tales
and walks in peace.
+
A big potato bug looks at me. We spoke and I said how I envy you. You
are so round and plump, fleshy.
+
When we all speak in unison, fine glitter moves about our being. Some
of us sing, some of us speak, some of us write, some of us paint. Some
of us labor with love. Some of us learn to speak again. When we all speak
together we gather friendship and patterns of thought. Our mosaic is indeed
fine. Again we must say that we have aged rather well. Light has brightened
the night. I am reading what the angel says.
Like round drops of water, pure and clean, we cleanse and brighten
the earth.
+
I am reading more about the enchanting lady as she steps forward among
the beautiful people.
Rain drops.
Rain drops from the clouds, raindrops clear and clean, raindrops gather
dust as they fall to the earth. We know that each drop is different, just
as we know that each one of us is different.
Sparkling clean our earth appears after the rains of last night.
The potato bug rises from the earth, ugly to us, we shiver at the way
it looks. We want to walk away, turn our backs and forget that it exists.
I have not seen one for over fifty years, I did not want to see one now,
but I knew that they were. I looked and found a meaning on line, they were
as ugly as I had thought. It has to take its place among the beautiful
creatures of earth. I am not to decide about its fate or turn my back when
it arrives in my garden.
When angels swirl above our heads in our dreams. We only see them as
angelic, not limping with stubbles of beards. Why is that? Who washed the
dust and scrubbed the cheeks until they were rosy? Where are the angels
that look like demons? In hell? God forbid!!
Our world is truly distorted.
Laurel and I step forward. We walk this earth. Equal in the eyes of
lifes mysteries. I step forward arrogant and proud, I guard my peace, I
proclaim that peace dwells around this aura of life. I decide to be at
peace. I step forward a peaceful creature and speak of beauty.
Thanks to Lou
***
Life as it was supposed to be at Morningstar:
Get up in the morning, milk the cow, put the milk
into a bucket, put the milk in a glass jar in the creek. Later that
morning, you would separate the cream from the milk. Set the cream
on the porch in a jar. When it was the right temperature, you put
the cream in a butter churn. A lady in her time would stay away.
Get up in the morning, go chop the wood for the
wood-burning stove. Get the fire going under a five-gallon bucket
of water on the stove. If the bucket was empty, you would fill it.
Get up, and grab a bucket of red whole wheat.
Put a small amount of wheat in the grinder. Crank the wheel as the
wheat falls into a bucket. When you are done, you sift the bran from
the flour. Then, put it in a proper container. The bran would
be our morning mush or the flour would be our morning hot cakes.
After breakfast, you would go to the woods and get
some firewood or logs. Or, you would go to the garden and tend the
vegetables. Maybe you would stick around and clean up.
Later you would churn the butter. If it got
too warm, you would go take a shower or swim. Grab the washtub, the
scrub board, a hand full of soap, and wash your clothes. Our clothes
would always be clean, but they were always stained from the salt of the
earth. Gather honey, sow wheat. Make leather goods, sew and
mend.
At night we could sit by the fire and enjoy the
stars. Later, we could enjoy the love of a loved one.
It may have been that way before I arrived at Morningstar.
But, too many people had overwhelmed the sisters of mercy and overpowered
the powerful men.
Thanks to Lou
***
Delicate emotions have been stepped on by arrogance.
Wings pulled out like daisy petals.
Halos trimmed.
"Pretend you didn't see me."
Whose quote?
**
Sonoma County Shoppers
Someone told me a story at Morningstar that they went into local store,
did their shopping and as they walked by the registry, said, "Pretend
you didn't see me." and walked out with their groceries.
Tomas4
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