Saturday, December 20, 2008
DEER CREEK-The One Taste Cafe
She clicked her shaped ruby slipper backcountry skis together three times and glided off to home, to no place like home, no place like home, into the dazzling Akanistha domain of perfect peace and plenty. The rising sun activated the bright gems on the skis sparkly finish, creating a garnet light show that contrasted with an infinity of diamond white-faceted crystals all over the blanketed ground. The laser beams triggered some sleeping DNA that awoke from its state of eclipse into mirth infused with meaning. Red and white, action and purity, were the signatures of the day. She skated uphill feeling the easy glide, the easy rhythm of leaving everything behind that was no longer of any use. She renounced all the complications in her life if only to have a glimpse of enlightenment. A cleansing, a purification of body, mind and spirit was born. The perception of barriers between this, that, those and these quickly broke down. The unified field of instantaneous interconnection said hello again with a sultry archangelic whisper. She was Rose Red in a holly berry down vest on the way to everywhere all at once. Shhhh, the skis sang psalms on snow. Shhhh, the sanctuary of serenity. Shhhhh, the swooossssh and cadence. Shhhh, the switch to sanguine sanity. Shhhh, the stillness of snowy space.
She skied into a familiar hangout. A swirling snow squall arose near enough to suddenly seek shelter under the arms of protective Engelmann elders, the medicinemen of the forest. They gathered in tall eminent groves as if in reunion at a winter warriors’ solstice sundance. The great masters were many up here and existed in the form of five elemental energies that together manifested a rainbow body of wholeness viewed as plentifully painted innumerable pixels. She found a large rock and placed a foam pad upon its cold stony outcropping, conveniently next to a blue spruce backrest. Upon the new snow she drew Tibetan symbols in dakini language in gratitude for the rare and precious existence here, the opportunity to sit and appreciate the wonders of the high altitude alpine world. Carefully drafting them with curves that matched her own, they invoked a sacred presence, as if it wasn’t already there and you hadn’t noticed. An Ah for transcendence, a Tram for equanimity, an Om for comprehension of three vast expanses, A Hum for mirror-like clarity, a Hrih for discriminating wisdom. She breathed the corresponding colors into them, swallowed them whole into her heart then breathed them out. Green, yellow, white, blue, and red. An exhalation of frosty mantras froze in mid-air and dropped as whole syllables upon the snow, forming a transcendent bas-relief. She took refuge in the possibility of release from everyday tedium and in her mind’s eye visualized obeisance to an ineffable, liberated, open life. She conceived an offering of every good thing that ever was caused by some unknown boundless source. Another different perception was spontaneously catalyzed by simply being in radiant luminosity. A drop of blood from a small cut on the thumb feel upon the snow and set the calligraphy into motion. The action of living red began its work. Hot, active, red, redder, and reddest yang balanced the cold inactive white, whiter and whitest yin of winter.
After a few minutes of adapting to the closed-in hideout, she hunkered down out of the wind and bided time ‘til the blustering passed. There are all sorts of activities at hand in the wilderness while you wait it out. Make tormas out of snow as offerings to the wild mountain deities. Carefully sculpt circular mandalas and come back in a week to your personal award-winning ice masterpiece. Make snow hearts with your name and his etched in the center. Write “true love” under it. Kiss it a few times to make it so. Go for the total yabyum visualization with you sitting in union on his lap, at one with indescribable juicy essence. Finally fix the irritating ski hardware that occasionally causes cable release. Adjust the safety straps more carefully. Decide whether to carry on up to the cabin nestled in the trees, considering the time it might take to shovel out more than just a few feet of snow to open the door, makes steps to walk down and prepare kindling for a bit of warmth in the oil drum stove, that is, if there’s fire starter there at all and the flue is in place.
She remembered to bring a fire kit with lint from the dryer, paraffin coated matches that lit on her zipper, a magnesium block, and a knife with a thick, strong tang to make large shavings that would ignite with just a few sparks formed by deliberate downward strokes on the slab. She could make Sherpa Tea with Shih Chu Heaven Grade 16 red ginseng root and time the boil at this altitude. Make a round snow table in the grove to return to later next week. Decorate the site with an irregularly toothed spruce cone arrangement. Use proper feng shui. Wonder about the Fibonacci series of the scales. Substitute spruce needles for daisy petals and pluck off white-green 4- angled spruce slivers from a hairy twig while saying, loves me, loves me not, loves me. She braided a haphazard loves-me spruce needle keepsake to put into a golden locket for the remembrance of being here now. After long gone moments into the distraction of love she considered the probability of accepting the proposal by the wilderness for marriage in this lifetime and next few. The wilderness was her match. There was no other acceptable possibility that she could think of at that moment, or even any other. She imagined peace like pure white snow. She sat silent for as long as it takes for time to go away.
Digging into the pack she removed the smallest stove in its compact triangular red plastic case, just right for a daytrip up to high altitude. White gas was chosen to prevent any flickering. She primed it well and lit it while protecting the fragile flame by positioning her back towards the wind. A little fire in the spruce grove was not completely out of the wind, but provided enough warmth. A heat exchanger surrounding the cookstove helped shorten the time to bring water to boil. Add one minute for every thousand feet above 6000’? Taking into account the decrease in atmospheric pressure water comes to a cool boil at about 194 degrees at 10,000 feet. She stirred powdered herbs from Uzbekistan, Siberia, Mongolia, and China into one Asian concoction, then added the remaining loves-me needles for local alchemical power. She added a little of this and a little of that. The rhodiola foamed up and she stirred it again with a slender stick to prevent its bubbling over. She added more Siberian ginseng, more gymnostemma, and more Reishi mushrooms to thicken it into a rich aromatic broth. It was a hardy drink, tasty, and satisfying. It would oxygenate the tissues and increase endurance as the trek moved into higher, more challenging terrain. The additional warmth was welcome.
There was no room for anything more but the precious present. The XTC of being took over like a favorite South American psychotropic vine without the nausea. Trees transferred their words aloud with whispering boughs. Transmissions were freely given in the pine language of immortal Taoist chiens and in the spruce language of ancient omniscience. They were neither spoken nor written but something you pick up intuitively by just being there and listening. The trees say, “Be still and watch with awareness.” They sway with the zephyrs like wings of awakening to nirvana. Their breath conceals hidden jewels of wonderment, a treatise on the nature of reality. Their scent is the remedy for despair. The cure is instantaneous.
She inhaled as much oxygen and resiny evergreen aromatics as possible at this great height. It induced a state of heady joy. Colors were more vivid and there were more of them than she recollected, possibly in the ultraviolet range. Our heroine reeled with love abiding in her heart, with a conjugal connectedness for all her relations in the wild, with streams, rocky ledges, and exalted peaks. She swooned from the magic of this sanctuary with it mystical messages that mesmerized the mind.
In a mere few minutes the sun flirtatiously broke through and lit up the snowy hexagonal microcrystals like prisms in a chandelier. Into the top of the pack went the outer shell, mitts, and hat. She skinned up, carefully laying the gluey strips down the centerline. She crossed the creek at The Flashes, avoiding wet snow. The little rivulet ran into the confluence of the Snake River and Peru Creek. Six years it would take one drop of this creek to make its way to the great ocean. Six years. And that was only if the water wasn’t frozen off and on for 8 months like it is up Deer Creek. Up, up, up to the steeper climbs, steadily gaining elevation, pacing with slower steps, increasing the pulse rate to maximum target zone. The breathing becomes labored and the stride more deliberate. On the right side of the trial down the creek bed the slope was iced up.
She sampled what seemed to be the first day of creation, fresh and new with falling flakes in wonderland. She remembered a first unforgettable never-ending circular kiss here and knew that if she never experienced a kiss again, the memory of this one would overpower any future kisses and probably linger beyond that. He said, “ I think this is the right place for a first kiss.” It was an eternal kiss beyond the beauty of anything one could imagine. This kiss, in the winter here above The Flashes, in their cozy snow cave, warmed her from the inside out. With that kind of memory one is never cold again. There was hope for unconditional love in this world as the gift they gave to each other was letting go again and again. It was a high-altitude attitude to give up attachment, expectations and and anticipation and dwell in kindness and compassion towards each other more and more. And with that thought, she stripped off another layer from the heat of passion blazing up from within. The thought of a harmonious relationship bore its fruit. It dissolved the biting arctic chill of the afternoon air as the sun sank behind the trees in the west. Cool, grayish blue shadows made their debut, prompting one’s attention to get down soon.
Breaking trail up a wind swept ridge with exposed rock was not the thing to do today. The snow depth increased, and when it reached just above the knee, the going grew harder. The telltale quad burn told her to descend. It was still early in the season. There was enough time tomorrow or even next week to make a longer day of it. There was no hurry, no gotta-get-it-all-in echoing around the brain. Peace was totally present. The powder trail down from the top was a silken ribbon of simple turns and she sped up as the depth decreased and turned to a packed surface. The S-shaped oscillating patterns linked moments of surrender and spacious rapture into near soaring freefall flight.
In due time, as the sun went down, her antenna picked up an earlier conversation with the mystery mechanic at the One Taste Café. Pink peaks murmured a gentle yet firm farewell. The rosy sunset kissed her peachy cheeks goodbye. She would be late, at the least. The lascivious attraction to the Wild was no match for even the company of a delicious man today, not that is wasn’t desirable in a distant sort of way she barely remembered anymore. She was tanned, blond, and disheveled and even more appetizing now, having descended from the heights with an attitude expansion in unavailability and independence. The silent sojourn was good despite the flurry of thoughts that came and went like clouds. They were non-existent now. She had become emptier and emptier and the more empty she became the better she felt, released from the world of cyclic suffering and ongoing chatter. The firmament of the mind was clear, a pure sapphire blue of galactic limitlessness. Snow. Big ocean. Wide sky. When dark set in, she would reluctantly come down. Down to town, as large as the smallest town should ever be. Down to the red pickup truck awaiting her with a good heater and dry socks. She was resurrected, renewed and ready. A sweet song wrapped itself around her like a long lost lover never known. They danced and held each other tight through the singing night.
She skied into a familiar hangout. A swirling snow squall arose near enough to suddenly seek shelter under the arms of protective Engelmann elders, the medicinemen of the forest. They gathered in tall eminent groves as if in reunion at a winter warriors’ solstice sundance. The great masters were many up here and existed in the form of five elemental energies that together manifested a rainbow body of wholeness viewed as plentifully painted innumerable pixels. She found a large rock and placed a foam pad upon its cold stony outcropping, conveniently next to a blue spruce backrest. Upon the new snow she drew Tibetan symbols in dakini language in gratitude for the rare and precious existence here, the opportunity to sit and appreciate the wonders of the high altitude alpine world. Carefully drafting them with curves that matched her own, they invoked a sacred presence, as if it wasn’t already there and you hadn’t noticed. An Ah for transcendence, a Tram for equanimity, an Om for comprehension of three vast expanses, A Hum for mirror-like clarity, a Hrih for discriminating wisdom. She breathed the corresponding colors into them, swallowed them whole into her heart then breathed them out. Green, yellow, white, blue, and red. An exhalation of frosty mantras froze in mid-air and dropped as whole syllables upon the snow, forming a transcendent bas-relief. She took refuge in the possibility of release from everyday tedium and in her mind’s eye visualized obeisance to an ineffable, liberated, open life. She conceived an offering of every good thing that ever was caused by some unknown boundless source. Another different perception was spontaneously catalyzed by simply being in radiant luminosity. A drop of blood from a small cut on the thumb feel upon the snow and set the calligraphy into motion. The action of living red began its work. Hot, active, red, redder, and reddest yang balanced the cold inactive white, whiter and whitest yin of winter.
After a few minutes of adapting to the closed-in hideout, she hunkered down out of the wind and bided time ‘til the blustering passed. There are all sorts of activities at hand in the wilderness while you wait it out. Make tormas out of snow as offerings to the wild mountain deities. Carefully sculpt circular mandalas and come back in a week to your personal award-winning ice masterpiece. Make snow hearts with your name and his etched in the center. Write “true love” under it. Kiss it a few times to make it so. Go for the total yabyum visualization with you sitting in union on his lap, at one with indescribable juicy essence. Finally fix the irritating ski hardware that occasionally causes cable release. Adjust the safety straps more carefully. Decide whether to carry on up to the cabin nestled in the trees, considering the time it might take to shovel out more than just a few feet of snow to open the door, makes steps to walk down and prepare kindling for a bit of warmth in the oil drum stove, that is, if there’s fire starter there at all and the flue is in place.
She remembered to bring a fire kit with lint from the dryer, paraffin coated matches that lit on her zipper, a magnesium block, and a knife with a thick, strong tang to make large shavings that would ignite with just a few sparks formed by deliberate downward strokes on the slab. She could make Sherpa Tea with Shih Chu Heaven Grade 16 red ginseng root and time the boil at this altitude. Make a round snow table in the grove to return to later next week. Decorate the site with an irregularly toothed spruce cone arrangement. Use proper feng shui. Wonder about the Fibonacci series of the scales. Substitute spruce needles for daisy petals and pluck off white-green 4- angled spruce slivers from a hairy twig while saying, loves me, loves me not, loves me. She braided a haphazard loves-me spruce needle keepsake to put into a golden locket for the remembrance of being here now. After long gone moments into the distraction of love she considered the probability of accepting the proposal by the wilderness for marriage in this lifetime and next few. The wilderness was her match. There was no other acceptable possibility that she could think of at that moment, or even any other. She imagined peace like pure white snow. She sat silent for as long as it takes for time to go away.
Digging into the pack she removed the smallest stove in its compact triangular red plastic case, just right for a daytrip up to high altitude. White gas was chosen to prevent any flickering. She primed it well and lit it while protecting the fragile flame by positioning her back towards the wind. A little fire in the spruce grove was not completely out of the wind, but provided enough warmth. A heat exchanger surrounding the cookstove helped shorten the time to bring water to boil. Add one minute for every thousand feet above 6000’? Taking into account the decrease in atmospheric pressure water comes to a cool boil at about 194 degrees at 10,000 feet. She stirred powdered herbs from Uzbekistan, Siberia, Mongolia, and China into one Asian concoction, then added the remaining loves-me needles for local alchemical power. She added a little of this and a little of that. The rhodiola foamed up and she stirred it again with a slender stick to prevent its bubbling over. She added more Siberian ginseng, more gymnostemma, and more Reishi mushrooms to thicken it into a rich aromatic broth. It was a hardy drink, tasty, and satisfying. It would oxygenate the tissues and increase endurance as the trek moved into higher, more challenging terrain. The additional warmth was welcome.
There was no room for anything more but the precious present. The XTC of being took over like a favorite South American psychotropic vine without the nausea. Trees transferred their words aloud with whispering boughs. Transmissions were freely given in the pine language of immortal Taoist chiens and in the spruce language of ancient omniscience. They were neither spoken nor written but something you pick up intuitively by just being there and listening. The trees say, “Be still and watch with awareness.” They sway with the zephyrs like wings of awakening to nirvana. Their breath conceals hidden jewels of wonderment, a treatise on the nature of reality. Their scent is the remedy for despair. The cure is instantaneous.
She inhaled as much oxygen and resiny evergreen aromatics as possible at this great height. It induced a state of heady joy. Colors were more vivid and there were more of them than she recollected, possibly in the ultraviolet range. Our heroine reeled with love abiding in her heart, with a conjugal connectedness for all her relations in the wild, with streams, rocky ledges, and exalted peaks. She swooned from the magic of this sanctuary with it mystical messages that mesmerized the mind.
In a mere few minutes the sun flirtatiously broke through and lit up the snowy hexagonal microcrystals like prisms in a chandelier. Into the top of the pack went the outer shell, mitts, and hat. She skinned up, carefully laying the gluey strips down the centerline. She crossed the creek at The Flashes, avoiding wet snow. The little rivulet ran into the confluence of the Snake River and Peru Creek. Six years it would take one drop of this creek to make its way to the great ocean. Six years. And that was only if the water wasn’t frozen off and on for 8 months like it is up Deer Creek. Up, up, up to the steeper climbs, steadily gaining elevation, pacing with slower steps, increasing the pulse rate to maximum target zone. The breathing becomes labored and the stride more deliberate. On the right side of the trial down the creek bed the slope was iced up.
She sampled what seemed to be the first day of creation, fresh and new with falling flakes in wonderland. She remembered a first unforgettable never-ending circular kiss here and knew that if she never experienced a kiss again, the memory of this one would overpower any future kisses and probably linger beyond that. He said, “ I think this is the right place for a first kiss.” It was an eternal kiss beyond the beauty of anything one could imagine. This kiss, in the winter here above The Flashes, in their cozy snow cave, warmed her from the inside out. With that kind of memory one is never cold again. There was hope for unconditional love in this world as the gift they gave to each other was letting go again and again. It was a high-altitude attitude to give up attachment, expectations and and anticipation and dwell in kindness and compassion towards each other more and more. And with that thought, she stripped off another layer from the heat of passion blazing up from within. The thought of a harmonious relationship bore its fruit. It dissolved the biting arctic chill of the afternoon air as the sun sank behind the trees in the west. Cool, grayish blue shadows made their debut, prompting one’s attention to get down soon.
Breaking trail up a wind swept ridge with exposed rock was not the thing to do today. The snow depth increased, and when it reached just above the knee, the going grew harder. The telltale quad burn told her to descend. It was still early in the season. There was enough time tomorrow or even next week to make a longer day of it. There was no hurry, no gotta-get-it-all-in echoing around the brain. Peace was totally present. The powder trail down from the top was a silken ribbon of simple turns and she sped up as the depth decreased and turned to a packed surface. The S-shaped oscillating patterns linked moments of surrender and spacious rapture into near soaring freefall flight.
In due time, as the sun went down, her antenna picked up an earlier conversation with the mystery mechanic at the One Taste Café. Pink peaks murmured a gentle yet firm farewell. The rosy sunset kissed her peachy cheeks goodbye. She would be late, at the least. The lascivious attraction to the Wild was no match for even the company of a delicious man today, not that is wasn’t desirable in a distant sort of way she barely remembered anymore. She was tanned, blond, and disheveled and even more appetizing now, having descended from the heights with an attitude expansion in unavailability and independence. The silent sojourn was good despite the flurry of thoughts that came and went like clouds. They were non-existent now. She had become emptier and emptier and the more empty she became the better she felt, released from the world of cyclic suffering and ongoing chatter. The firmament of the mind was clear, a pure sapphire blue of galactic limitlessness. Snow. Big ocean. Wide sky. When dark set in, she would reluctantly come down. Down to town, as large as the smallest town should ever be. Down to the red pickup truck awaiting her with a good heater and dry socks. She was resurrected, renewed and ready. A sweet song wrapped itself around her like a long lost lover never known. They danced and held each other tight through the singing night.
DEER ANTLER TEA
Deer antler is widely drunk in the Orient to strengthen all aspects of life. It is the ultimate Yang primal essence, a Jing tonic. a rejuvenating tonic. It is a warm tonic and also contains Yin Jing. It is a powerful blood tonic. Extracts of Deer Antler strengthen the central nervous system and the heart., strengthen the mind and calms, yet enlivens the Shen (Spirit). Deer Antler is universally believed to invigorate sexual energy, too. It improves cardiovascular function by regulating heart rhythm and by improving circulation. An added plus is its ability to increase work capacity, decrease muscular and mental fatigue, and improve sleep. Deer Antler has been shown to increase oxygen uptake of the brain, liver and kidneys and increase red and white blood cell production. Modern research indicates that it stimulates blood production by nourishing the marrow. It contains chemicals that are very closely related to human growth hormone, hGH, and is now widely believed to promote youthfulness. The soft antler of the deer is humanely removed when it has grown just two to three spices and still covered by velvet. Yes, the deer grows new antlers. It takes thirty antlers to make one ounce of extract. Cup of tea?
The Boosh De Gool
Om tare tuttare ture soha.
Removes all obstacles.
Repeat 108 times.
One of the first times I did this was when driving on fumes in the mountains. After several days of hiking in the Collegiate Peaks I was hurrying back to teach a meditation class on time. I coasted into a gas station at Copper Mtn, not so surprisingly named. By digging for nickels and dimes under the floor mats and in the black hole recesses of the truck to refuel, I chanted the mantra. When I finished refueling I turned on the radio to hear Steely Dan singing "Bodhisattva wont' you take me by the hand". I became Tara on a mission to meditate. Presto chango.
The Boosh De Gool is a Sufi tradition. On evening get togethers, one person is selected by drawing a straw to determine who is the Boosh De Gool. The honor allows a person to remove all obstacles in his friends' lives. Are you the Boosh De Gool today? It IS an honor.
Removes all obstacles.
Repeat 108 times.
One of the first times I did this was when driving on fumes in the mountains. After several days of hiking in the Collegiate Peaks I was hurrying back to teach a meditation class on time. I coasted into a gas station at Copper Mtn, not so surprisingly named. By digging for nickels and dimes under the floor mats and in the black hole recesses of the truck to refuel, I chanted the mantra. When I finished refueling I turned on the radio to hear Steely Dan singing "Bodhisattva wont' you take me by the hand". I became Tara on a mission to meditate. Presto chango.
The Boosh De Gool is a Sufi tradition. On evening get togethers, one person is selected by drawing a straw to determine who is the Boosh De Gool. The honor allows a person to remove all obstacles in his friends' lives. Are you the Boosh De Gool today? It IS an honor.
True Confessions-Himalayan Cuisine
There are few culinary delights as delicious as marinated elk. It is lean and packed with protein-excellent for the winter when we want warmth. Saute your elk strips or cubes in Bragg's liquid amino acids, orange zests or peel, coriander, cumin, ginger and garlic. It makes you invincible. It makes you very very happy. You have elk energy now. So join me today in a delightful meal together during the snowstorm rolling over the Continental Divide. And for those of you losing a pound a day on the perfect weight loss program, HCG, this is on the diet. Wash it down with homemade chai laced with cognac just to take the chill off the windy evening. Remember, this goes well with nettles, which you can easily grow in the kitchen. A meal for the cave dweller in the Himalayas.
Nectar of Immortality
Vanilla almond milk
Rosewater
Agave nectar
Cardamom, ground
Heat and have the most relaxing time sipping on the nectar of immortality.
Rosewater
Agave nectar
Cardamom, ground
Heat and have the most relaxing time sipping on the nectar of immortality.
Your Meridians
There are 12 basic meridians of energy flow in body. There are innumerable other channels, including the Extraordinary meridians. They can be accessed through meditation and qi gong right at home. The Fusion and Kan and Li exercises adjust, regulate and ultimately balance all your meridians. Acupuncture opens all the gates, too. By just visualizing and steam cleaning the meridian pathways, you can experience how well you can be, how lucid you really are and how easy and comfortable it is to feel this way again. Did you know that the I Ching hexagrams are the basis of Chinese Traditional Medicine? By using superconductive gold and silver needles or rhodium and iridium needles in sacred geometry configurations, a whole new world opens to you. It's called Taoist acupuncture and is based upon the natural cycles of flow. There is actually a single point that opens every two hours that treats everything. That's right. EVERYTHING.
3 Ways to Die
1. Know that death is a resurrection.
2. Know that life and death are one and the same. The duality of Yin and Yang is based upon the Wu Qi, the One.
3. Be at peace with the inevitable flow of the river that reaches the great ocean.
2. Know that life and death are one and the same. The duality of Yin and Yang is based upon the Wu Qi, the One.
3. Be at peace with the inevitable flow of the river that reaches the great ocean.
This is the Secet
Have you ever wanted to KNOW the secret of life? Have you wondered and imagined what it's like to be penetratingly present and pure? I can tell you. From one crow on the telephone wire to another, I can tell you. It's like talking to the bees and communicatng with water spiders gliding along the surface of a deep pool of transcendence. Be in the moment, sweet friends. Be in the moment. Bask in the now of forever, infinite and irresistable. Did you know that acupuncture and detoxification fulfill the arising of Shen, your basis for life at one with your spirit, your most important asset? The Ling Shu, a classic Chinese medical text, says Shen acupuncture and detoxification during sidereal time accomplishes this. Call for an appointment to begin the New Year with re-affirming goals for your success on every level. Collaboration is everything. Towards the One. Do it right now.
Za'atar
Za'atar. I love Zs, don't you? Zorro. Zanzibar. Zymergy. Za'atar is an addicting Middle Eastern spice blend. Ground sumac, toasted sesame seeds with additions of oregano, thyme, basil and marjoram. It's a Shambala in the spice world. A veritable scherazade of the senses. Amply sprinkle it on pita bread with olive oil and heat. Appetizers will never be the same again. Za'atar. Your new thing. Bring something wild and completely new into your culinary repertoire. Contact me.
Extraordinary New Book by Verda
"I just finished writing the book I always wanted to read." Verda Smedley, Ancestral Airs. Written from the perspective of pre-Celtic medicine man and woman culture, Verda enchants the reader by writing from another viewpoint. She ties in community, plant lore, culture and the lives of healers that lived in that era between hunter-gathers and agricultural lifestyles. And it's self-published. Beautiful tribute to what you can do even if you're in pain and in a wheelchair. The wisdom transmitted to you alone is worth buying the book today. Read it before you go to bed and trance out to the way you remember in your deepests subconscious mind.
The book is 700 pages of journey to the other realms where so much of what truly matters happens. It's $25 plus $4 shipping. Just write to Verda at 2470 Sycamore Loop, Santa Fe, NM 87507.
And, oh, she also created a large set of sacred tree cards and a divination board with corresponding medicine cards. They're miniature paper creations of the highest caliber. All the sacred British Isles pre-Celtic trees are represented: alder, hawthorn, birch, oak, holly, etc. They are available at Rebecca's Apothecary in Boulder and at Border's and the Ark in Santa Fe. The seasonal set of 4 Winter Trees just came out. Magickal. Just wait for the round divination board with tokens that have little pictures of the leaves on them.....it's the I Ching for aboriginal Europe. What happens after a reading? Let me tell you, it's big.
The book is 700 pages of journey to the other realms where so much of what truly matters happens. It's $25 plus $4 shipping. Just write to Verda at 2470 Sycamore Loop, Santa Fe, NM 87507.
And, oh, she also created a large set of sacred tree cards and a divination board with corresponding medicine cards. They're miniature paper creations of the highest caliber. All the sacred British Isles pre-Celtic trees are represented: alder, hawthorn, birch, oak, holly, etc. They are available at Rebecca's Apothecary in Boulder and at Border's and the Ark in Santa Fe. The seasonal set of 4 Winter Trees just came out. Magickal. Just wait for the round divination board with tokens that have little pictures of the leaves on them.....it's the I Ching for aboriginal Europe. What happens after a reading? Let me tell you, it's big.
Fragrance for Jesse
A day for creating: love potion for Dr. Jesse, colleague, spirit brother and brilliant co-conspirator in otherworldly expeditions at our eco-lodge in the Ecuadorian Andes on the Rio Napo. Take a little bois de rosa, rosewood, and blend in a bit of benzoin, frankincense and attar of rose. Add 108 Tara mantras and program a covertly hypnotic mindstate for abundance and attraction to every dream coming true. And for a lifechanging vacation, consider Jesse's tours to Africa for drumming, to the jungle for ayahuasca, and to the Huicols for ceremony. It's a non-profit benefiting education, shelter and food for homeless Ecuadorian children. Dr. Jesse can be reached at Ottotours.com and answer all your questions for your next life changing vacation to the lands of enchantment and long reaching personal transformations.
Solstice
Welcome back the light. In your life. The illumination silently and invisibly clears the slate of the past creating a clear and empty mind for transformations leading to a new paradigm. Welcome and be in moment of openness, ineffability, spontaneous presence and openness.
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