Date with my heart

Day 2

So I've found it, “The” place. Of course there was no finding of “The” place if I did not find it within myself first. Day 1 was tainted by frustration. Uncompromising slabs of concrete blocked the access to the place where I camped and painted last year. Yet another road to happiness on this Earth appeared closed. I asked a few locals if I could set up my little tent at their huge property and just paint. No need of their facilities, no intrusion of their privacy. The answer was a repeated, “no.” A very definitive, “no.” I began to think, “is it that the more you own, the more you are scared to give, the more you are scared to lose?” Poor people, poor “rich” people! I made a mental note not to ever be like that. I took off not knowing where to go and tried my best to forgive and forget. There's a reason beyond immediate understanding for everything and the purpose is always to help us on our way. There's no doubt that a better place will show up.

I cooked my modest veggie dinner on my tiny gas heater at the dead-end of a school parking zone and walked up a few yards into the bushes where I set up my tent in darkness. The night wasn't peaceful. I dreamt of bears. The many night animals crawling in the dry undergrowth around my tent amplified my unease. I finally drifted to dreamless sleep just as the dawn was breaking.

I woke up tired but I thanked the Lord to be here and now. There were no noisy people around and no traffic in my circumference of perception. What else could I ask for? Maybe a hot Americano! Right. So I packed my tent and drove in the direction of the town. I was happy and one with the moment again. Somehow I knew that I was at the right place at the right time, doing the right thing. After all, I had a date with my heart. Alone. That was the plan. As long as I'd stay true to my intention, things would fall into place.

Without really asking for anything, just sharing my as a part of a friendly customer chat, I received a map of the area from Jake, a coffee shop employee. He highlighted a few spots that he thought might be suitable for my lonely camping stay. And that is how I found “The” place. I realized if I find the peace within, I would find it without.

I am settled in and I tried to do some painting but it's windy now and I can't paint because the canvas keeps falling off the easel by the sudden rushes of air. It doesn't matter, I am naked in the forest and I feel so worry-free! I feel I have no need to accomplish or fake anything. I have an intense feeling of happiness that seems to be just a natural side effect of it.

As I woke up from a nap under the pine trees I find my scarce belongings are scattered around me, rays of sun caress my skin and flies are crawling all over me, tickling me back to awareness. My plan is to go for a swim in a pristine lake of turquoise blue as I need to wash off the paint stains not only from my hands but also from my chest, back and buttocks. Painting can be a little bit of a funny business!

How did I get myself here, some 300 km into the BC interior from Vancouver, with nobody to talk to besides the trees and myself? Simply by a feeling I had. By a feeling so acute and articulated like the sensation of an ant making its way through the bush of my crotch hair right now! I should trim it I guess, but then, nobody is going to explore this area for quite some time, as long as I am true to my decision, so for now I could not care less.

I was going to throw a party at my studio 420. That was my original plan. But then I met Dharia, an enlightened being from a hidden ashram in Himalayas, who happened to be in Vancouver teaching meditation. It was our second meeting. Our first one was a breakthrough for me. It made me think how did someone so egocentric as myself cross paths with somebody so unconditionally loving as Dharia? Our second meeting wasn't any less of a breakthrough than the first one. If someone is ready, the Truth resonates so strongly in his or her core that it cannot be overlooked. Especially when you ask for it so humbly, for the simple reason that you can't look at yourself in the mirror anymore without feeling fake. After the meditation and the message she channeled from my heart, which was very painful but with a trace of hope, I drove her home and I knew that the party wasn't what I was supposed to do. After the meditation I woke up, spent the day painting at my studio, packed at night and left early the following morning. I didn't say anything to anybody.

As soon as I took direction east on Avenue zero, much more slowly than my usual driving speed, peace settled within me. I knew I was doing the right thing. That is how I find myself here, in “The” place, at the right time, having a date with my crying heart.

Day 3

I woke up at 7am after a much more peaceful night and drove to town to grab a coffee and buy some leafy greens for my diet, not forgetting cigarette papers. I was in a rush to get back to my lonely place though. The mandatory interactions with people at the stores felt a bit off place. As soon as I came back to my tent I stripped off all my clothes, rolled up a smoke with the tobacco Radoslav brought me back from India and started reading a Robert Bateman book, high as a kite! I felt my heart beating in my chest very strong. Bateman's words are shining from each page as a window to a different world, way too beautiful for this one. It's so alive and full of Love it makes me wanna cry. Soon after I start devouring another Murakami novel. I finished “Wild sheep chase” yesterday. And it surely did make me cry. The last paragraph was too much. I sobbed like a child when I was first confronted with the finality of life.

Everything around me seems to be in perfect harmony with every inch of the surrounding space. I can't even listen to music. As soon as I put on my headphones I have a feeling that the trees nearby have a story to tell and I could miss it. As I gaze at the forested steep slope on the opposite side of the lake, swaying in the occasional wind, it confirms my feeling. This place has a lot to say for anyone quiet enough to hear it. I take a swig at my vodka drink every now and then. A beetle flies right past my ear making me scared with the powerful buzz of its wings and lands on orange strip of my tent. I look at the patches of white clouds dancing in front of ultramarine blue of the sky and suddenly shout, “Don't be so fucking serious Mr Kasparec!” I let out a fart and fix a coffee on my stove heater. The flies are relentless. They continue dancing happily in the pleasant breeze. “I could learn a lot from them”, I think seriously.

I spent part of the afternoon devouring the second Murakami, “South of the border, West of the sun.” I wanted to read slowly and save the book for later, but it was impossible to put down. I turned the last page in a few hours (at least I think it was a few hours judging by the movement of sun in the sky). Oh my God. If yesterday I cried reading, then today I cried a river. I lay down hopelessly crying with my arms stretched and mouth opened towards the sky. My guts are contracting convulsively with my sobs. So much beauty I felt in surrendering, such much beauty I felt in loss. God, if I am to die, please take me in this very moment, because I have tasted the touch of your unity. I love you Murakami! Please don't die anytime soon, okay? You need to bless us with many more novels!!

I roll up a semi-crippled cigarette and look lazily around. The bitter smoke bit me and I spat. My spit landed on a small tree next to me and I watch it hanging from a branch like a silver thread. The tree doesn't seem to mind. I apologized anyway.

I don't smoke, so weed is out of the question for me. But the pure tobacco leaves without any chemicals get me so high for a moment that I feel realities shifting. As if the ever-present veil of ego-perception lifts and I see things as they really are, without any mind commentary, without any interpretation. And even when it starts talking I know it is not me and I know that it has nothing to do with the real essence of the thing it is describing. I hear the voice, but inside I am still and centered, I watch it speak without judgment, without attachment.

The wind came up again at sunset when I was painting. My canvas fell on me and I got covered in paint again. Even still I could not stop painting though, not just yet. I sat on the ground and continued painting with one hand while holding the canvas with the other. When I finally decided to stop the darkness is already crawling in. I go to the car to refill my bottle with vodka and juice and notice that people who were camping further down at the lake had left. I felt exhilarated to be truly alone. The feeling quickly changes as the wind amplifies and howls intensely in the trees. Dark clouds make the night settle in much faster than I anticipated. Even the mosquitos don't come out. I guess the prospect of my blood wasn't sweet enough to navigate in this weather! Or they are still digesting the dose they got out of my veins yesterday. To be really honest, I am scared. I am scared right now; typing these lines zipped up in my tent with the orchestra of a bewildered forest sucking me into a cacophony of sounds. I feel so alone in the world, but even still a part of me is very happy to be here. I think it will be an intense night. If I could, I would fast forward the upcoming 10 hours until the morning light.

Day 4

To my surprise I managed to get through the night without too much anguish. The wind was shaking my tent and at times I could hear raindrops, but whenever I heard creaking and rustling noises, I concentrated on my breath with all my awareness and with every exhale I repeated in my mind, “I am safe, I am safe.” It worked.

I woke up to a silence so thick I could have dove in it like in an ocean of cold-press organic virgin coconut oil. I relieved my bladder and set up a little fire to warm my feet and hands. I prepare some coffee and pull out the sleeping bag out of the tent. I pass out again, feeling sweetly tired, the kind of tiredness when the mind is not present and every movement is naturally slow and simple. When I open my eyes I can see the aura around the pine trees against the cloudy sky very clearly. Suddenly I feel the urge to listen to Ricardo Montaner's song “Yo que te ame”. I am singing out loud along with him and remembering the good times in Argentina with Hugo. Alone, naked, and free! It feels so blissful and unpretentious, pure joy in my heart. If there were any bears before, they would be gone by now.

I hike down the steep descent to the lake, sliding at places, until I reach the shore. I am already naked so all I have to do is take off my shoes and dive in. This is the first time I would swim across to the other side. I wash off a layer of bird crap from a flat stone and sit on it. The kingdom of seaweed under the water’s surface seems even more abundant and mysterious on this far side. My shoes are but a blurry blue spot on the opposite side. I swim back laughing with pleasure at times. Swimming in unknown deep waters naked always gives me this feeling of apprehension. “What's going on bellow me?” Is something watching me pass by and deciding how to react to my intrusion? What if some big fish bites off my weenie? Do girls ever have this kind of idea? Probably not.

I crawl back on the unstable rocky bank. I am shivering. I shave and I brush my teeth. It's weird how such a simple act of hygiene can make you feel better. I sit there for a long while, enjoying the rays of sun on my drying body. I focus my vision to under the water. So much life, so much life everywhere. Unfolding on its own, totally independent of what we think is worthwhile, of our interpretation of our purpose and importance. If I disappeared right here, the world would not skip a beat. It would continue unfolding with all its drama, with all its beauty.

I’m not thinking of what I am going to do today, not even in 5 or 10 minutes. The fullness of the moment seems to be all there is right now.

I climb back up, naked, to my campsite and sprawl purposefully on the blanket. An undetermined amount of time passes. All of a sudden a hydroplane flies right above me, still fairly high enough though. Yet as soon as it fades into the distance it slips from my mind. But then it comes back from the opposite direction, this time roaring with magnificence as it approaches the surface of the lake. It makes me jump up from my lazy daydreaming and prepare lunch. Wow, it could have landed on me a while ago. The pilot might have used my white bum as a good landmark, I ponder humorously.

All of my meals are the same. Yet each time they taste more delicious. I throw diced onion into coconut oil and fry it golden brown before adding pre-cooked brown rice. I add turmeric and salt and stir-fry. And just before I kill the flame, I add whole pile of raw spinach and lettuce, so they stay green and crunchy. Once served, I add some fresh avocado and of course a lot of cayenne pepper goes without saying. I can’t wait to eat this delicious abundance and have it make love in my stomach. I touch my hands and utter a silent “Itadaki mas” before touching this gift of God. Japan sure did leave some good traces in me!

I spend the afternoon painting the view of the cliff and lake. A family of three walks up on me from the trail behind my back. I wave at them happily and tell them that I'm naked but that it's totally fine with me if they pass by. Somehow they end up being more embarrassed than me and made a point of not even looking in my direction. People are a funny species!

If last evening and night was Yang then today is Yin. The air is so still the lake seems to be made of mercury, a motionless mirror faithfully reflecting the image above it.

I've seen many dramatic sunset skies in my life, but to me tonight's sky seems out of this world. Stunning! Large patches of creamy orange colors combined with stylish lace of white outlined clouds. So that is the life behind the dream of life. Perpetually changing yet constant.

I take a puff on my artisan mini smoke. I can hear the roaring of the bloodstream in my arteries. The body runs on its own without a hint of worry about the confused soul occupying it.

Mosquitoes are truly fierce tonight. As if they are trying to make up for yesterday's public holiday (in the mosquito calendar, of course). I decided to hide in the safety of my tent and wait for sleep to come.

Day 5

I decide to leave today. The timing is perfect, as it starts to get cold. I can feel the upcoming shift in weather. As soon as the decision was made, my mind clings to it and my mood changes. It's much harder to be present again. All the ideas and prospects of what I'm going to do once I'm back kick in. “At least I am aware of the illusory trap,” I think.

So what have I learned from this trip, from my date with myself so to speak, was it worth coming?

Every step on the journey is worth it, or so it seems. And I am very very happy that I made it, that I came so far to be alone with myself in silence.

I realized that I am not who I am trying to be most of the time. I realized what a burden I've been dragging on my back all my life by trying to fulfill the roles that I play, in order to look good, be accepted, be admired, be loved. I was playing these roles without ever really loving myself first fully. This is the false idea of grandeur. So much energy spent in the effort of sustaining it that there was none left to see the slightest glimpse of the true grandeur of Universe, which I now realize more clearly than ever I am part of.