This has been a few days of astronomical proportions as it pertains to my growth as a spiritual person. The God hits have been a flurry of impacts, like the sky falling during the yearly Perseid Meteor showers. I don’t know if I can full on communicate what has occurred but I will do my best.
I think people may be able to relate to the motion of the body and head as one begins to pass out. The distinction between reasons for such an edge of conscious does not really matter. It could be the chicken neck thing people do when they are extremely tired, falling asleep while sitting up. It could be the loose and stretched look of someone on a blackout drunk, fighting the shutdown of their brain by trying to hold their head up. The reasons and situations are plentiful, the swimmer who swallowed too much water, blue in the face, lurching up the remains of the sea to breathe again. Lost in lust, a face writhes to and fro during the riffs of ecstatic sex. The pill popper fighting consciousness on the couch, the meditator, teetering on the cusp of sleep, the dancer, the head banger, the hip hop artist, these movements all have one similar motion, bouncing the head. It’s just like the smiling baby being bounced on a knee. Those events perpetuate through the course of ones existence.
The focal point of the energies leading to this kind of movement is 4 corners leading to a pyramid like shape with the human as the center. It’s a neon sign saying “don’t forget, you are never really here.” But more than that, it is a reminder that the spiritual world is right alongside us. Call it God, call it Creator, call it Mother Earth, call it what you want, it is there all the time. However, much like the movement, it is not calling, it has to be called, to be welcomed, into the heart , before one can be guided by it.
I spent the weekend with an old friend. Not my oldest, but a guy I got clean with and spent some of the most emotionally honest time hashing out thoughts, actions, fears, regrets, and hopes. We parted ways, as he had his deal and I had mine, but we didn’t lose touch. He’s one of those people where you pick up right where you left off in the first place. We spent Friday, fishing out on the bay near his home. We caught a ton of fish and some other things, but only kept one black cod. I caught a number of Canary cod but those are illegal to keep, and we follow the rules of fish and game. We were out in a small craft, just bigger than a dingy. The sea was for the most part, calm, and it didn’t pick up chop until much later in the morning. It was still spooky, three of us sitting in this tiny craft, about a mile off of shore. Don’t get me wrong it was a ton of fun, but at the same time, I told myself, well, if we’re going over and this is the end, then that’s ok. We talked about going out Saturday on a different boat, but decided to put it off so he could spend some time with his wife and kid before they went out of town.
Friday night we were psycho babbling back and forth about things, and I was hit with a reminder that I must be careful for anything can change at a moments notice. I also predicted that something “bad” was going to happen the next day but I didn’t know what. I figured it would be on the boat if we went out. I wasn’t trying to make a self-fulfilling prophecy, I just had a gut feeling. We took our dogs for a walk in the woods behind his place. His dog is named Rojo, and my dog is named Iggy. We let the dogs off the leash, and they happily sniffed along the trail with us. They are well behaved and respond when called. We didn’t have any issues. We made it to the local high school and turned around opting to trek back through the woods instead of taking the streets.
About 5 minutes away from his house, the dogs went berserk. They started sniffing and pacing across the trail and into the woods, which they hadn’t done the entire time. My buddy gets Rojo back on the leash but Iggy is not responding. I look around to try to spot what he’s after, because I don’t want him to get skunked on, and I spot about 50 yards away, a grey fox, with tail in the air, staring at us. The fox is a good third bigger than Iggy. Due to connection between master and dog, Iggy sees the fox too. He takes off full sprint after this fox. They are off running, we’re yelling to get Iggy to turn around, and he’s gaining on the fox. He gets to about 5 feet from the frantically fleeing fox and turns around to look at me. The fox senses this as a moment of weakness, turns around and pounces my dog. I have my knife out and am full bore in that direction. However, when I pull up on the scene, Iggy is just sitting down panting. The fox is gone. I scour him looking for punctures, signs of pain, etc. But there was nothing, he was just doped up on adrenaline and clearly not used it. We made our way back to the house without any more incidents.
Now it needs to be mentioned that Iggy does not chase other dogs. I have never seen him do that. He minds his own business and is way more into people than other canines. His behavior was not like him in any form. In fact, I can only attribute his sudden aggression to one thing: he’s a pure bred Smooth Fox Terrier. The story of how he came into my life will have to be saved for another day as this post will read like a book instead of a short story. Fox terriers were bred to chase down a fox, slink into it’s hole, shake that fox by the neck until the hunter pulled the terrier out by it’s tail. That was Iggy’s ancestors original purpose. It’s in his genetic code to go after that fox. He got the scent and primal Iggy took over.
It was a reminder to me that I often put my purpose aside: my music. I have not followed through and have not put enough energy into doing what I like doing most. Bam. There was a hit. I watched my friend stress over his family, and the things he was doing. He would listen to my spiritual babble, but he was distracted. That is because his purpose is with his family, and it’s something he was losing sight of. I sometimes think that we are just spirits looking through the windows of our eyes as our atoms hold our memories. Our genetic history is fed through our consumption of oxygen, and it will be passed forward into the future, whether it is in the dirt, the sea, or a child. Sometimes I think I can sense something along those lines and it was apparent this weekend, that I had forgotten that I could sense anything like that. I found out that my Pops fell while riding his bike with my sister in law up a long steep grade the same day Iggy met the fox. I think he was pushing himself too hard, he’s almost 70, and was at a breaking point. He had to turn around and head back. Thus, my prediction was eerily close to accurate.
Everyone is right where they are supposed to be at this moment. That’s how shit works. Our fragile minds cannot conceive time as it actually is, and we cannot perceive the world in it’s true form. It is a reminder that the Spirit is everywhere, touching each and everyone of us, we just need to welcome it in. It is a reminder to always have a purpose and be working towards that goal, towards something. It is a reminder to stop hesitating to talk to that stranger, or introduce myself to that pretty girl I saw, because we’re in a race against time, and the opportunities that we are presented might never be the same again.
As people in this day an age, we are constantly bombarded with distractions, with bias, with things that take, or want to guide us away from our purpose, things that take us away from connection with our spiritual selves. Computers, cellphones, video games, television, food, booze, weed, drugs, porn, worries, possessions, and fears, are all distractions that aim to deprive us of our true potential, our true meaning. I must learn to use moderation with all things, thus I have come up with the mantra, “not too much, just enough.” It can apply to many aspects of my life, but for my purpose, with music, and my spiritual goals, I’m going all in and am not going to question it again. Music and meditation be my voice and thoughts and my will be guided.