Snow and Heaters and Carbon Monoxide Dreaming

The Forest Snow

The Forest Snow

APACHE NF, AZ — #Death #FourthWall #LivingIt #Soul #VanDwelling

May 16, 2015 9:53 AM

I awoke to a few inches of snow on the ground this morning, enough to make a nice, white blanket. Yesterday was a mix of rain and snow, so I stayed inside the van the whole time, grateful for the hightop and the space it provides to move around in.

Running the heater most of yesterday reminded me of something: How my spiritual practice saved my life about six months ago.Read more…

The Power of Regret

Shooting The Breeze

Shooting The Breeze

WHITE RANCH CONSERVATION AREA, MO — #VanDwelling #Writing #Death #Intimate #Remember

April 5, 2015 2:41 PM

It was a pretty camp—lush grass, a clear river, trees fully in bloom—but it looked like rain and it looked like this area floods and it was Missouri after all, so I moved on. Cavalier about my life or not, I wasn’t born with a stupid brain and I knew it wouldn’t allow me to sleep through the night. … Read more…

Death and Taxes

Waiting On The Light

Waiting On The Light

MELBOURNE, FL — #Death #Soul #MiracleLog

March 5, 2015 1:00 PM

I did my taxes today. Filed and paid them online. The damage wasn’t too bad. Relieved to be done with them, I picked up some Thai food to celebrate.

Sitting in the van, digesting my lunch, a small moth flitted across my line of vision. The van, parked cross-wise to the breeze, created an air pocket for the moth, a welcome doldrums where he could fly about undisturbed. As if to celebrate his good fortune, the moth did a couple ascending victory circles before coming to alight on a stone in front of me.


A lizard leapt out and swallowed him whole.


The sudden end to the moth’s story.

No physical life form lives for long.

Yet Life never dies.

I had forgotten to take the tax bill into account when evaluating my savings… but I don’t care, I’m Eternal.


Two entire months vanish.

Lizard or moth? When you live forever, does it matter? I’m happy for them both.

I’m happy for the lizard.

I’m happy for the moth.

I don’t fear death. I look forward to seeing what happens.

I’m happy for me.

Spiraling Out Of Control

Goal Oriented

Goal Oriented

MELBOURNE, FL — #Death #Soul

March 4, 2015 2:07 PM

It started out with what I felt was an inspiring and perfect idea, “I think I’ll come back as Michelle’s son, then Michelle can re-teach me Mystical Oneness,” but because Mom doesn’t believe that we get to pick our next life, the conversation quickly spiraled out of control.

At the point where she was telling me how negative I’ve become and how disappointed in me she was that I’d lost hope in Mankind and when Dad told me that all I wanted to do was win, I knew I was doomed.

It’s not that I want to win (particularly when it comes to beliefs). All I really want is to be understood.

I don’t know why though. I don’t know why being understood feels so important.

Should I be inauthentic to make my life easier? Should I tell people what they want to hear just to be popular? Should I smile and glow and spew theories based simply on mind stuff and not real world experience?

Should I just walk away?

Sometimes I get so tired.

I know I’m holding on too tight to this—to being understood. More mind crap. When I dissolve into Her—as I just did a few moments ago—She smiles and nods and knows I’ll learn my lesson eventually.

Hah! Is it any wonder spiritual teachers don’t blog about their personal lives?

An Unexpected Insight

The Bird and the Dawn Sky

The Bird and the Dawn Sky

MELBOURNE, FL — #Soul #Death

February 24, 2015 9:32 AM

In search of more evidence of the Soul, I’m reading a book on reincarnation, Children Who Remember Previous Lives. It’s a dense book, lots of scientific research methodology, so I’m not sure I recommend it to a more general audience.

Rather than focusing on the details of individual cases, what I find far more indicative of truth is the repeated patterns—shared traits—of most past life cases.

Two big surprises I’ve picked up from these patterns:

  1. All evidence suggests we consciously selected our current life. I’ve believed this was true ever since my LSD vision, but the repeated, common pattern suggests that this is indeed so. I base this on how many cases where the children’s most recent past life either resided near the new family or was related to them. If your new life was purely random, this pattern wouldn’t have emerged.
  2. There doesn’t appear to be any evidence that we know the future of these newly selected lives. I’ve long believed that we select these lives based on what they can teach us (ie: know its destiny), but none of the children seem to have any memories of this process. (Many, though have reported a sage-like guide in the “in between state” (bardo realm) that helps them make a new life selection).

The implications of these two patterns mean I have to rethink a key aspect of my theory of destiny. Before reading this book, I assumed (assumptions are such sneaky bastards) that I had selected this life (and all previous lives) based on what I knew it would help me learn. While in the bardo realm, I would see all the events that this new (potential) life would encounter, see what I could learn from it, and then select it if I felt it useful for my spiritual development. Sort of like consciously selected karma.

Not knowing the destiny of a potential life while in the bardo realm means that we only select a life based on its potential. We infer what we will learn based on the family, race, society and culture of the new parents.

This evidence throws my idea of karma out the window. This life’s future is no longer a chosen, fully understood (then forgotten) fixed destiny. At best, we selected this life as a probability it would help us evolve based on an informed guess (selection of a new life based on the new family’s circumstances). At worst, we selected it based on simple attachment to stuff from the previous life (loved ones, enemies, lifestyle improvement, …).

I’m not sure how I feel about this, but that’s what the evidence suggests.

The Doomsday Report

The Doomsday Report

The Doomsday Report

MELBOURNE, FL — #Death #MyLove #MiracleLog

February 19, 2015 9:47 AM

Yesterday, somehow, I found myself reading this Doomsday report, which presents a dozen well researched scenarios that sadly supports my not so secret theory that Mankind is doomed to kill himself off.

Of the twelve threats listed on the report, only two of them are naturally occurring. The rest are all man-made.

It isn’t a pleasant report, and since it was designed as a warning—a call-to-action—it isn’t meant to be.

In reading the report, I also stumbled across something called the Fermi Paradox (Why isn’t the galaxy overflowing with intelligent life when probability says it should be?). One of the answers comes to the same conclusion I came to: Man, as a whole, is not morally capable of handling the technology he’s developed.

The Mystic sees all Life as an interconnected Whole. As this report suggests, so do many scientists. The problem is, the world isn’t run by Mystics and scientists.

Politicians, government leaders, warlords—the few with the power over the many—seem to see civilization through an us-against-them worldview. An aggressive, combative philosophy (me-me-me-me-me) of viewing the world that is literally killing us.

The Fermi Paradox suggests that this may be the ultimate test of a species’ worth—a naturally occurring check valve which keeps self-centeredness from running too far astray. Sort of a God Test if you will:

Is Mankind spiritually worthy of survival?

At this moment, we’re obviously not.

10:24 AM

communed with Her. I allowed the shaft of Light to penetrate my head, dissolve my body and expand outward and I thought about what I had written above.

I was surprised when I clearly heard TaoGodHer:

There’s hope. Not for Mankind, it’s too late for that, but I never die. Life will be born on other planets and grow and progress and be tested. Eventually we’ll progress beyond the personal self.

She never dies. We never die. Life may end on this planet, but we’ll just come back on another. Life is eternal and time is irrelevant. Worlds and civilizations come and go. Sort of the cyclical nature of tides on an eternal, universal scale.

Note: Quoting the Divine is the sign of a crazy man, so take this simply as my belief—the belief of a crazy man—and feel free to disregard. This is just a personal journal after all—the ramblings of a man no longer entirely normal.

Head to Heart

That's Not The Future Out There.

That’s Not The Future Out There.

MELBOURNE, FL — #Death #Writing

February 3, 2015 12:54 PM

The book… it’s too clunky. Too much head, and not enough heart.

Time to harmonize its nature.

I’m sick of theories.

It’s time for the tide to change.

3:57 PM

Saw the movie Birdman. All about meaning and existential angst. Good movie. Funny, but dark.

The sense of self. Self-absorption. The mind turned inward. Even Michael Keaton gets it.

Change of subject, sort of: I’ve been getting a few comments and a bunch of emails on this Gas Gauge of Death thing lately. No matter how many times I explain it, they just don’t seem to get it.

Reality is right here, right now. Everything else is just noise in the mind.

I doubt I’ll address this issue anymore. I’m so tired of the drama. So tired of their fears. So tired of explaining myself.

The Present = Reality.

The Ominous Future = A whirling illusion in the mind.

Why should I feed the illusion?

The Funeral


February 2, 2015 11:55 AM

I left the coffee shop and traffic pulled me in the opposite direction I had intended and I found myself in front of church and I parked and I processed the photo for the previous post when suddenly a funeral procession—led by two motorcycle cops—passed behind me and I was happy for the dead and sad for the bereaved and I wondered who felt more alive, the living or the dead?

I feel connected.

I feel guided.

I feel alive and dead all at once.

Here and not here.

And it is beautiful.

Motivation and Priorities

Dad Sleeping in Front of the TV

Dad Sleeping in Front of the TV

MELBOURNE, FL — #Technique #Death #VanDwelling

January 27, 2015 2:15 PM

The writing this morning was feeling forced, so I gave up and went to hang with Dad while Mom went to the doctor. Scanning my news feed, I found this article about evaluating your life (to help keep it on track) and liked the first idea:

At the end of the day, ask yourself, “Did today matter?”

Now imagine you have less than two years to live. Kind of bumps that question up a notch, doesn’t it?

4:49 PM

I re-routed some wiring in the rig that was bothering me: making the battery monitor easier to see from the easy chair and driver’s seat, plus mounting a more space efficient power strip.

I was originally going to build a fancy box around the equipment to make it look all purty and stuff, but after thinking about the above question, “Did today matter?” I opted not to. The box probably would have taken at least a day to assemble (two days with my track record of DIY estimates) and really, who’s going to see it but me?

Cooling Down With The King

A Sign

A Sign

MELBOURNE, FL — #Death #MiracleLog #Soul

January 20, 2015 10:07 AM

I woke up at 3am and my mind wouldn’t let me go—once again I’m back in Florida, feeling as if all the weight and responsibility of my parents’ well-being is on my shoulders. I did some quick calculations and realized that over the last seven years, these trips back to Florida have probably cost me three years of my expected life span—critical gas gauge of death dollars lost, not in expenses, but in lost consulting income.

Frustrated with the past and my current situation, I gave up trying to sleep at 6am and wasn’t surprised when I had to wait three minutes for traffic to clear long enough for me to cross the street.

I pulled into a Burger King for some breakfast and inside, I wasn’t surprised when the guy behind the counter didn’t see me and stood there staring at his phone.

I sighed, still angry, and stepped into the bathroom and exited with wet hands because the bathroom was out of paper towels (and no hand dryer).

The guy took my order, got it wrong and just nodded when I told him they were out of paper towels.

I sat down to eat, pulled out my phone to distract myself and couldn’t connect to their WiFi.

Frustrated and angry and wet, I stopped.

I looked up.

A sign on the wall said,

Cool Down With The King

And I saw myself keel over suddenly from a brain aneurism—face planting into my coffee.

And I saw my body roll off the chair and tumble to the floor as I detached and hovered above its lifeless form.

And the anger faded as I took responsibility for my situation: That each time I went back to Florida—each time I told my client I’d have to cut back dramatically on my coding work—I had chosen to do so. I had made the decision. I had made the conscious choice. I could have held off and let my brother take care of all those family emergencies, but I didn’t—I didn’t even give him the chance. I’m responsible for my fate.

The mind—what a pain in my ass.

I looked down at my lifeless ex-body and I shook free of the little game.

I sat there and I looked around and I took a photo of the sign and I realized I’m a walking dead man—that everyone is—and that thought, as morbid as it sounds, somehow released any residual tension.

Then I walked out into the parking lot and gave an impromptu tour of my van to an RV’er from Ohio and he took some photos of my rig and was thankful and grateful and I hopped in the van, and drove to a mechanic, and I asked for an oil change and wheel alignment, and everything flowed smoothly and easily and he gave me twenty bucks off for… I don’t really know what for, but I was grateful.

The less there is of me, the more there is of Her.