Lots of thoughts…in Kiwi country!

Lots of thoughts and I think not to have them…but I do.  There`s tons of them; jumbled, twisted and what not…so many it seems that I hear nothing!  Here`s one; “I’m blessed with fresh fish and a concocted mix of veggies!” So my mind produces a whole conversation; adding to the clutter. The soliloquy continues on:  I went to the grocery store–yes I know; a grocery store.  For those of you that don’t know I avoid the grocery store, I’m not really sure why but I do.  Anyway I sautéed the veggies in a light bath of Kiwi pinot noir, lime and a taste of salt and pepper; as I start to add the fresh fish, I discover a ginger beer in the fringe; “what an idea”, I thought.  And so the ginger beer dove into the pan of steaming veggies with the fresh fish—the fish was a gift provided by Tony, he`s like the godfather of Raglan.  It’s amazing; there is nothing that Life doesn`t provide, while providing Nothing at the same time.

It`s all fiction, a story I make up…a well placed sneeze in the unfolding aberration upon the kosmos.  I feel the flow, and it seems like I am fighting it!  Or maybe It`s at such a speed that my fingers struggle to catch up….again I`m off on another tangent. I was sharing my story of my home cooked meal; all natural, healthy, tasty and sprinkled with love.  You know it is said that a person`s consciousness is transferred to the food when they cook it–that is why the Sages only eat what is given to God first.  The food is purified thru God; or think of it in practical terms.  By offering the food to God they have purified their own thoughts, for when you think of God you are thinking of Pure Thought, or `The Thought`; thus cleansing your-self and hence the food.  Because when it comes down to it; it is all about what you believe…right?

So many thoughts and they all waited till I returned to my-Self.  Tonight will commence another span of time where I know only me.  There are no prior acquaintances or friends left to meet on this trip…or at least it hasn`t been foreshadowed.  From here on out the people I meet are to be encountered for the first time; all over again. For I am writing my story right now; we are continuously writing it, changing it, erasing a word here or there, discovering new themes and dramas to create.  And now I’m reminded to be the story; to be in the Moment of the story where it`s alive; breathing.

The past 7+ days of my story have involved a group, 3 or more people, traveling in a pack; exploring the surf of NZ`s Northern island.  It started with Petey Boy, his crew–2 brothers and their brother-in-law–me and three cars. We headed south to Taranaki home of the Volcano goddess, a jet-a-send mountain of earth punching to the sky as it surveys the ocean while nurturing its beautiful children. When I speak of children, I speak of 30+ surf breaks facing every direction except East, for the East is reserved for the white sand beaches of Mt. Manganui. I was blessed to surf Stent Rd., even though the conditions ultimately rendered no surf at Manihi, Sky and Manga.  So instead I dream of how it would to be to sit in those lineups filled with the breath-taking view of Taranaki as her coastline stares back at me from each spots unique perspective.      

From there the team broke up; Pete, Mark and I roamed southward, than across the middle of the island to discover the East coast as we were welcomed by a 5ft swell with light onshore-ish winds and warm sunny weather.  I wore shorts for the first time in 3 weeks! (I thought I planned this trip to follow summer around the world…I guess not??)  The east shore has the white sand beaches of Hawaii, surrounded by the green foliage of Coasta, highlighted by the rugged rock structures of Thailand, yet with the climate of northern Cali….wow!  I’m not sure what happened to the other 2 guys but we surfed; bungeed over a mesmerizing rever; frolicked, by the light of the moon, in thermal hot springs; drove crazy-ass-windy roads; passed a freshly powdered ski resort; and drank more “cuppa`s” (that`s Kiwi for coffee) then I will ever drink again. It was all perfect; we were even hooked up with a free place to stay most nights…thanks Mark.

I left the boys in Whangamata this morning (11/13) arriving in Raglan just in time for the tide to reach the optimum height for my session at Whale Bay–a sick left point smack dab in the middle of 2 other sick lefts running down the far south head of Raglan`s enormous bay.  Nothing is ever the same, yet it doesn`t seem to change either.  The Moment is and all these things happen within and about it.  I`m just a static expression welded in unison with the eternal story playing hide and go seek with itself. In a nut shell that`s the past week graciously blessed by the Volcanic goddess, Marks`s local knowledge and Tony`s fresh fish.   

 

Kiwi Food

Chile has long since been left in a moment; a space in time lost in the past few days I`ve spent in a caravan roaming the North Island of NZ.  Petey Boy and Mark (you have to say it with a Kiwi accent) and I have found good waves, friendly hospitable people and non-existent nightlife.  Everything closes at an unreasonably early hour.  It was Saturday night at 8:30p and we had just finished surfing; we`re all starving and think to get a bit.  Well Oakura , with its 2 restaurants, is absent of a kitchen with a staff willing to work it…so we drive 10min down the way to find a bar just about to close.  We made it by 5 min; you could see it on the chef’s face as we walk in; like “Fxxk, I just want to go home!”  I had spent just over a month eating clean, healthy, cheap food all over south america; available at any hour of the day for pennies on the dollar; and now I’m eating fried, gravy crap for almost dollars on the dollar and these people aren’t open passed 8:30 pm…come on mate!

At the same time life holds this illusion that I have been starved spiritually.  I have stayed present, clear and aware…enjoying the simple pleasure of the moment unfolding.  Yet I’m caught up with the outside, with the interaction, positioning and process of being with other people…even though Petey and Mark are super cool mates.  I’m just uncomfortable in my body—I watched myself on a video, not knowing that I was being filmed, and the twitching and abrupt movements are overtly obvious, it looks as if I’m trying to fit into clothes that are too tight.  I think that there is meaning to all this but it`s probably just another means of restraining the True.

Speaking English however is a welcome change, it`s nice to understand what’s being said without working to assimilate each word from Spanish to English and back.  Don`t get me wrong I like talking; but I find myself talking more than usual, I guess it true that you need to say a certain number of words a day—it seems I had a few on backorder.  And even though it`s nice to talk; I find myself truly saying nothing of value—I need to speak of and with value.  But value is only worth the value I assign it—so does it matter?  Does the 3D video game called “life” able to provide me with anything I don`t already posses?

I hear, “it is what it is!!” rolling off the tongue of a Kiwi, in their English-Aussie-Maori accent, and I think it’s a cop out, an excuse…or is it?  For the truth is…that it is what it is and that`s it!  The line, no matter how fine it may be, that separates the “fxxk off” attitude and the recognition to `never mind` what is arising seems a bit blurred here, maybe even misplaced.  I agree that it makes no since `to mind` the attitudes and things that appear to be nothing more than a means of ignoring the Self—a  Self that decided it would be fun to forget its` true nature.  But remember that Life it real and real life is relatively true.  It`s all a paradox, mystical and without a means to express it; but it is none-the-less.  And the Truth is without opposite.  No amount of words could explain it; for that would mean it is not its antithesis and that couldn`t be.  So I wonder of my own nature, and why I think there must be a meaning—for the only meaning is the one I give it—right?

Anyway I feel a bit spiritually starved since I’ve been with people I know and a language I understand…

 

Joy of the little things – written 11/2/08

It`s been said that the Masters find the little things of the greatest joy…and while I have agreed with this sentiment—I find that most of the time I must deliberately let-go of minding things, to actually recognize the joy of the Moment.  Today however, a travel day none-the-less, the littlest things have provided the most joy.  This whole blog started with me opening up my new Mini Computer, it is so cute, and finding great joy in the process of pulling it out of my bag. I just smiled; feeling a simple happiness come over me…it`s wonder-full!

I also had a great charge of excitment and enlivened energy as I was engulfed by the majestic grandure of the Andes Mountains—I had to actually tell myself to breath—it was radient.  And then I catch a glimpse of an attractive woman; I love those moments!  Even if they don’t look…I find such giddiness in being in their presence, no matter how brief.

Another smile fills my lips as I remember two brothers, 5 and 3 years old, taking their morning pee on the side of the hill, in the fishing village of Yacila- Peru, as I sat in meditation.  Or another time when my eyes meet the innocent face of a child—I made a silly gesture—and watched as she lit up and a smile broke through with intrigue while she walked, hand in hand, with her mom.

I tell you they`re right…it is the little things! The more present I am, the more I recognize it in the moment and not so much as an intellectual theory.  Everything always seemed to be an intellectual or experiential process; now instead, I know it as it is, for what it is…or not.  I am just going to smile, never mind what happens and wake up every morning recognizing the joy of the little things.

 

 

`Hope in the World`

There is `hope in the world`…it might seem over stated but it`s completely obvious that the world has found hope in the decision of the American people to elect Obama.  While, for me, a deeper understanding speaks; reminding me that there is only one person that makes a difference in this life; and it`s you. You are the determining factor; the circumstances may appear to be at the whim of the wind yet you decide if you `mind` the wind`s whims. Nevertheless I have seen, heard and felt the world place its faith in this US election. The blessing is…that the nations of the world, on the personal level, are beginning to awaken to them-self as part of a single global entity; interconnected at every turn. The outcome of the American people’s decision; has become a symbol of hope. 

 

The power of the suffering world economy is inspiring an even greater awareness, forcing us to recognize what otherwise we ignore.  That we are all conspicuously intertwined!  Initiated by the self-correcting state of the US economy, the world has irrefutable proof that the boundary between us and them is disappearing–coupled with the impending `change` of the political landscape– there is a hope that if the US can make a historic choice than just maybe it’s true; anything’s possible.

 

I have watched this US election from the world perspective; amazed at the love / fear relationship that binds and separates us.  The fear that the illusion is just that; some construct to make us feel safe, while deep down we fear for every moment of our life.  If McCain would have won– the residents of the world would have lost themselves in the rhetoric of condemning the` corrupt` US system.  If McCain would have won the worlds fear would have been realized– based on their perception–that the `Man` is still in power and we are powerless to overcome him.  But these feelings have nothing to do with McCain or Obama for that matter; they are ours to confront, each one of us.  For we prefer to embody our hopes and fears in something out there…something that `I` don`t control thus have no responsibility for…if it were only that easy!

 

I many ways,’ we`, the world lifted the veil of ignorance a bit; we created more hope, a deeper awareness of our unity.  Yet at the same time we dodged another bullet, skirting around our personal responsibility, again leaving it to someone else; namely Obama.  I believe that if Obama recognizes that his true work is within himself and thus tends to that, he will truly be doing the work of the World and thus giving reverence and respect to the hope the world has placed in him.  I however will place my hope, faith and trust in my-Self, the Self that resonates as the single unifying Life eternally connecting us all; therefore I place my Love in you.

 

 As all the great Masters and realized souls have predicted we are, as a whole, awakening to our-Self.  And it is through our collective suffering and corresponding joy, that we inch towards the next step in the evolution of mankind…may we stay awake and alert, knowing that it is everyday that we realize hope…not just every four years. 

 

Note

To those of you reading these posts i now have a computer and the next time I find a wi-fi connection, which is rare and hard to come by in new zealand–although they were every where in peru and chile, I will be posting pictures to go along with each previous post; I hope that will be in a day or 2…

Anyway I learned the basics of kite surfing and will continue to learn and one day call myself a kite surfer…I tell you it is fun being dragged around the ocean by the wind..it will be more fun when I can get to my feet with ease.

Lots of Love to you all, I dont think Im ever gonna come back…ha, ha! 

AJ–

 

Last & First Day`s

The last and the first days in any place, along with those days or hours in-between are the most challenging of any trip. For these are the days where you learn of your true attachment to who you think you are; in this experience of life. After having had 4 sets of lasts and firsts I have noticed the difference…

 

Naturally last and first days come back to back, on a trip such as mine, while occurring in ever new and different places; with varying cultures and languages; customs and attitudes; allowing you to see beyond the what`s apparently happening. Then take in to account all the personal variables regardless of the macro ones:

• You have check-in and the belief that when you let go of your possessions they`ll magically appear on the other end.
• How about the altering of your inner clock and the likelihood that you won’t be able to sleep on the plane when you want to. 
• Factor in the whole arrival, preparation, take-off, flying and landing of the plane and all of those unpredictable circumstances; which by the way are completely out of your control.
• Then, just when you think the list is narrowing, throw in the human ego and its fears, frailties, desires and expectations and you have what character is all about.

 

Well I struggled with the last day in Peru and the first in Chile, documented in a former post. But the last of Chile and the first of New Zealand have been a text book example of unattachment to the things that don`t truly exist anyway.  It started with the questioning, “Do you have a visa for New Zealand?” I knew none was needed but maybe I screwed up and thus I would have been unprepared…I find it very important to be prepared and pride myself on it. Then the fact I was so into writing that I almost missed my flight to Argentina, connecting me to NZ. I would have if they wouldn`t have called my name, in a barely recognizable Chilean accent over the PA. Add on a 14 hr plane ride, 14 hours in any confined space can drive you mad, with an almost overtly inhospitable flight crew. Take into account that my suitcase with all my clothes and the like fails to appear on the baggage carousel. And lastly, to top it off, everything is the opposite when it comes to driving in NZ…it`s not just being on the left side of the road but all the controls are flip flopped…every time I want to turn I flip on the windshield wipers…errrrrr! Nor had I truly slept for 48 hours…crazy!

 

It hasn’t, it didn`t, it can`t faze me when I`m in the moment; for the moment is perfect when you never mind what`s happening.

 

 

El Colorado

Eight hours till I leave for Auckland, and five hours before I should get to the airport; what do I do?  I decided at the begining of my trip that i wanted to visit the Andes, but after getting local input discovered it would be better to head straight fo the beach…so I did.  But since there was no surf this morning (11/2) I rallied back towards santiago.  Finding myself with time to kill I was moved to visit the local ski resorts only a few km away from Santiago…but you never know how things will go. I throw caution to the wind and ventured east towards the looming Andes…

 

I have always been quite confident in my navigation skills and after Peru that confidence has grown, coupled that with the, so far, well posted hiway signs of Chile I charged it!  Well for some reason they decided to treat the ski resorts like a bastered step child, as it relates to signage.  As always I remainded in the moment, trusted my intuition and the 3 signs they did post…I discoverd the way.

 

The enterence to the road leading up the 3000+ meters of switch back road; essentially a single track trail, seems more like a driveway into a residential area, rather than a gateway to world class skiing.  The first 1/4 fo the drive is typical mountain road yet it quickly turns into a series of 40 hairpin turns connected by a steep, narrow and omonious path up the canyon. I can only imagine how it would be trying to drive it in the dead of winter…ice, snow and zero visibility…basically completly frightening.

 

Pure excitment, i can still feel the power of the Andes coursing though my veins.  On the way up I was accompanied by my usual ipod music selection yet once I pulled over to take my first picture I was struck by the serence silence of the Mounntains unspoken strength .  I basqued in the fullfilling quiet of the moment and refrained from music for the rest of the drive…nothing speaks louder the booming voice of the Andes gentel whisper. 

 

Maybe it was the Andes that i told my Dad, in the dream, I was going to spend my winter.  Never the less it took me an hour and 10 minutes up and 40 min down; it woudl be at least a 2 hour drive up in the snow…and your only going 33km; about 20 miles.

 

 

 

Halloween in Navidad

Almost thawed out, arms like limp noodles and no real plan to speak of Im driving north along the central coast of Chile when i come across 3 girls waving me down. It s about 4pm, its a dirt road in the middle of what seems like nowhere and I find my foot on the brake as 3 chilean chicas climb into my car. They`re from Pupuya, the tiny town I just raced through, on their way to Navidad to party at the only discoteca for miles.

Spanish is Chile is a bit different than Peru or Mexico; they like to use tons of slang and speak at a pace that sounds like Ross and i when were being silly…most all of spanish sounds like gibberish but after 5 weeks of it im kind in the flow. So Madi takes the lead and starts talking to me…I get her to slow down and use basic words that I have a chance of understanding; it works. They invite me out to have beers, im hunger and got nothing else to do and so begins my drunk Halloween with Madi-18, Natile-19 and Jessica-20 in Navidad. (Jessica and Madi are sisters; they’re actually 2 of 10 siblings.)

We head to La Boca (all the towns are close together so Im just gonna name them) to get beers and food. I started drinking wine after my surf session at Puertecilla and have not eaten since 8am so get buzzed quick. We have a great conversation,laughing and what not as they all try to talk o me at once; yo comprendo mucho mejor cuando tengo dos o tres cervesas. They end up dacing a bit in the restaurant, then head back to Navidad so I can get a room for the night.

Its dusk and they want to go to the Rio, Im thinking its a bar so we head to ______ and it`s an actual a river. So with a few beers, my camera and a since of adventure we hang out drinking, skipping rocks, taking pictures and listening to our voice reverberate off the canyon walls. It was silly random fun and I found myself speaking and thinking in spanish and understanding most of what theyre saying…by the end of the night I didnt want to think anymore but i kept on speaking spanish.

After meeting up with some more of their friends we head back to the restarunt in La Boca and drink until the discoteca opens up at midnight. I end up driving to pick up Jess and Madis older sisters novio somewhere in the time line but anyway. We are dancing at the discoteca and i realize, along with the girls, that I should stop drinking. Then just as ubruptly as this all began we-re back in the car heading to another disco.

I have no idea where we ended up but it looked like someone turned their barn/house into a disco and the grandparents were working the bar. Its 2am at this point and Im fading fast. The 3 girls are still going strong but their friends are ready to go so they direct me back to Navidad and I pass out around 4am.

Waking up with a wicked hangover, my first and only of the trip, all I want is a hot shower, cafe and food. Well everthing in this hostel is at least a foot lower than it should be and so I hit my head 3 times on the way to the bathroom. The shower wont get hot, actually the cold water hardly works to I stick my head under the facet and get a Mexican (now a Navidad) shower.

Having no idea where the girls might be I run into their older sister, say goodbye to her leaving my email and head north. i didnt get back to normal untill about 4pm that next day…but what are you gonna do when you pick-up 3 young chilean girls ready to party on the side of a dirt road?

 

Puertacillo – 10/31

The Knife!  The road that takes you down the cliff to the beach of Puertacillo is apply named `The Knife`. Now I´v driven some crazy roads in mexico and on a scale of 1 to 10 this one is an 8.5, maybe a 9 due to the hype, narrow berth and steep nature of the road…it really isn´t a road…its a trail carved into the side of a cliff that would be a challenging walk, let alone a drive.  So anyway i charge it, the wave is on the other side of the bay and there is no way I`m gonna let a bit of dirt and vertical feet stop me…

It looked worse than it was…but Im sure if you saw it you would think twice before doing it by yourself, and I guess a guy died on it a few weeks earlier.  Nevertheless I make it down in 4×4 low in 2nd gear and then fire down the beach to the point.  I get there and it is working.  As i pull up I see this guy pull in to an inside barrel as the wave ends in the bay…im stoked.  So I throw on my wetsuit and head up the point. Walking out on to the rocks trying to figure out the best spot to jump in…I plunge myself into the frigide sea.

As it always is with big wave cold water spots, the current is strong and swirling, you never are where you think you are and the cold creeps up on you before you know it.  I spend the next 30 min paddleing, even thought I was basically at the top of the point when i jumped in.  I get into position and i`m third in the line up and a set rolls in and the third one swings wide and lands right on my head.  You can`t really sit at this spot or you get swept out and down into the bay…so I continue to paddle to stay in position finally picking off a wave and it ends up mediocer.  Riding it for a couple turns i kick out and head back up the point.

Another, what seemed like, 30 min passes and the set arrives and after 2 tries i catch my 3rd attempt grabing my rail as I pull in but for some reason never fully get to my feet.  Actually I could no longer feel my feet, but you don`t know that when your out there…that realization hits you when your walking back to your car and you wonder what happend to the ground.  Next thing you know Im down the point again, more than angery, freezing and over it!.  I tell myself fuck it, its been at least 2 hours and I can`t keep my fingers together as I paddle.  so I catch an inside wave that gets me in and I head for the car.

Even thinking about it now, I wish i would have stayed, thawed out for 2 hours and charged it again at sunset…but if I had done that, then Halloween in Navidad would have never happend!

 

Pichilemu

Picture the pine-tree lined, freezing, thick waves of Santa Cruz; add an equal part of the small town, mountain hippie feel of Lake Tahoe; and then top it off with a hint of Latin flavor and you have Pichilemu, Chile.  It´s beautiful, cold, tranquil and ominous all at the same-time and i loved every moment of the 2.5 days I spent there.

I did my homework and found a killer cabina up on the hill over looking the town and the 3 surf breaks (Puntilla, Illfernio and Punta Lobos).  Upon arrival I knew, i was where i was suppose to be…the energy of the town, my cabin and the ocean were enlightening…pure…vast…and peacefully calm.  Chris and Val, the couple that own the cabinas greeted me with a whole hearted welcome, even though it a bit of a adventure getting to the cabinas for the first time.  They found Pichilemu on a 6 month surf trip they took after they got married about 5 yrs ago (i think, I tend to forget details like that.)

Since leaving Peru I had been on the move surrounded by people, cars and the like and Pichilemu was a great reprieve from all of that.  I read, wrote, cooked, drank wine and surfed…once.  It was forcasted for a huge 3 day swell to hit the town during my stay, unfortunately the biggest day showed up early disorganized and with a ton of wind, the second day flattened out; still a mess but no wind and the third day was maybe chest high, with poor form…but i surfed it anyway.  It’s hard to get into cold water when you know its not going to be stellar…and especially when your last surf was perfect overhead waves on the longest wave in the world…my life sucks (ha..ha).

There was actually a tow-in surf contest scheduled at one of the breaks called Punta Lobos, they got one day in, but that was it, i think the pros were a bit miffed!  However it´s an unusual site watching 10 skis with surfers towing into double overhead slop…one after the other making it look easy.  However when I got out at Puntilla another break in the town of Pichilemu, it was freezing water, swirling currents, with an unpredictable take off zone…it was anything but easy.

Since I had 48 hours of just watching the oceans I entered, for 24 of the 48 hours, a meditative state that produced 4 poems, a silent mind and a dream in which I told my Dad i was going to switzerland for the winter to be a ski instructor in the Alps…I actually like the idea and meet i guy that does exactly that when i was in Peru…the dream was vivid and felt deeply satisfing…even though i woke up questioning my future.

All in all Pichilemu is a tranquil mix of northern California and latin America set among 3 sick, freezing and world class surf spots in the middle of Chile.  I hope next time i get the surf to co-operate with my schedule.  However i did get a clean, well formed, almost double overhead day at a spot called Puertecillo just a few kms north…stay tuned for that blog!