the Road to Spirit Mountain
felt ready to cash it in, pack up, leave town, quit, no forwarding address, find a cave, go into seclusion or at least a town where no one knew my name. the stress and the fuck-it-all attitude was another indication that i was not living my life in full freedom like my mouth is always flapping about. as i hemmed and hawed near the cliff’s edge of change, the big U blew out her gusty sigh of frustration at my ground shuffling.
my friend Arty said, take a month off why doncha?
i replied, brilliant!
oh the relief! and the gardening, the traveling, the sleeping, the grandchildren, Magic Mountain and Hurricane Harbor, the ceramics class, the dancing, the online submissions and the acceptance of such, the LIVING and the final gem, the trip to Taos NM on my 54th birthday.
each moment of that trip was a gift of expression. from the moment i stepped onto the departing airplane to the moment i was searching for my car back home in the SF long-term parking lot.
in 5 days i had experienced one of the most mind-blowing spiritual retreats-which rivaled my gazing up at Michelangelo's David in Florence. i was enthralled. awake. alive. mesmerized. at peace. experienced a quiet that was electrifying. felt a sense of space that i have never felt until then. mused that i may have actually traveled to another planet.
i still would need a coupla hours in front of you in order to describe what Spirit Mountain holds in beauty and vibration. tho the description would still fall short in it’s telling. you gotta go and see for yourself.
don’t just say you’ll think about it. do it.
Road to Spirit Mountain
oil on canvas
August 10, 2014