Embracing the Aquarian Warrior/Hunter in Me

2013 has been a wild ride, the year of the Black Water Serpent. Somehow I landed in Las Vegas, a space I never thought I would visit again, but through the darkness, truth was found. Deepak Chopra was quoted saying Las Vegas is the most spiritual city in the world, simply because Vegas does not pretend to be anything that it is not. I feel blessed to be in a space where I am learning to accept exactly who I am: imperfections, impulses and all. My most recent journey began in the wilderness of Alaska.

I had the privilege of being a part of a 3-man guide team leading 9-Alaskan youth, ages 11-18, into the wilderness of 7-weeks at a time. Even though we dealt with long days, hard work, elements, behavior issues, violence, and periods of sadness, the great outdoors granted us with peace, serenity, and beauty. Surrounded by moss, massive trees, bald eagles galore, whales, seals, gushing rivers, spectacular mountains, and the vast ocean, we were gifted the space to contemplate life. While paddling around 10 miles a day or sitting around the daily fire, my mind pondered my life's purpose. Am I doing the greatest service to these individuals and the world? I hoped to have a deep, spiritual impact on each individual in the program. One that would last. I found that meditation and ceremony blew the crowns off of my participants and opened their eyes to alternatives. They could get high off of breath. They have other brothers and sisters that are going through the same process as them. Fire ceremony, cold water plunges, pranayam, sleeping on the earth, living a disciplined life of steel...working with the elements.

Towards the end of my time with the Diamond Hummingbirds (a group of 9 fantastic gentlemen and 3 strong guides), a few boys approached me about starting my own program. Of course they wanted it in Hawaii. To my surprise, they all agreed that they would enjoy a program that emphasized discipline through meditation and physical activity, eating healthy, and being outdoors. These boys were craving to be initiated into Manhood; asking for guidance in becoming a strong man and a gentle lover. I found myself remembering the story Robert Bly told of "Iron John." I began asking myself: Why are we eating canned salmon and tuna? Salmon are jumping from the streams. Why are we bleaching the water? Alaskan waters are pure and can easily be purified naturally. Why are we not eating seaweed, beach greens, forest greens, mushrooms, berries? Instead we rely on packaged trail bars and other processed snacks.

Children benefit immensely from learning how to be a HUMAN BEING. Kids now a days think our food comes from the grocery store. They forget Mother Earth provides everything for us; we are the one that process and package things. Only one of my participants had experience hunting, fishing, and gathering edible plants from the earth. A pity. I began thinking about my own life. Where am I getting my food from? What should I be eating?

I went back to the east coast after Alaska to visit family and to see my newly born nephew Johnny. Wahe Guru! I traveled up to Maine for the Common Ground Fair, where organic farmers gather to share their bounty and people come to celebrate life. I love being there because the vibes are high and the food is delicious. I visited my friend David on the way. I love hanging out with David. He is an incredible chef and a brilliant man. David introduced me to the concept that the agriculture revolution is one of the most detrimental things that has ever happened to the planet. Our overproduction of grains has caused an imbalance on earth. David uses a top quality animal products in his meals and enlightened me to the benefits of eating them. Our ancestors did, we are built to, hmmm...curious. I ate his cooking, as I always have, and felt amazing. I still struggled with the idea of killing animals for foods and continued to eat vegetarian.

Friends from Kauai called me out to Mendocino county where they were building an intentional community on our friend's Tague's property. With no plan, I landed in San Francisco and made my way to the mountain. I spent two months sleeping under the stars on Hummingbird Hill. My days were spent barefoot hiking the 220+ acres of mountainous land, drinking spring water straight from the earth, teaching Kundalini yoga and singing mantras with the wonderful community of musicians and yogis living on Loveland, harvesting wild mushrooms, observing methods of permaculture, and continuing to refine my philosophy on my existence. Occasionally I would adventure off the land for a few day soak in the hot springs. On one of these visits, I saw a book called "The Vegetarian Myth," took note of it and moved on.

As Thanksgiving approached, the wild turkeys on the land grew fatter. As I hiked up to Loveland one afternoon, I felt the surge of excitement coming from the kitchen. Griff, a true brother,  shot a Turkey. Wild eyed with energy, I watched him begin to prepare the meat. We chanted to the turkey, ate the heart, and feasted. As I walked through the darkness back to Hummingbird hill I felt fear surging through my veins. I made this walk every night, and never felt this before. An owl swooped down from the trees and skimmed over my head. I watched this beautiful creature in the moonlight. As I continued through the forrest, I heard a loud crunching sound. I turned my light on and revealed two large eyes staring back at me. Pretty sure I was standing face to face with a black bear, I turned my light off, said a prayer to the animal, put my head down and continued walking up the path. Maybe the fear I was feeling was warning of these two animal encounters, or perhaps it was fear the turkey was carrying since it was shot at once and missed before the gun was passed to Griff who shot it through the neck. I became acutely aware of my energy levels in the next few days and pondered my path as a veggie eater versus a hunter.

Tague and I ventured to a 3 day festival with Amma, an incarnation of the divine mother and an absolute saint. During these days, I realized that I wish to serve Mother Earth more than anything. This meant eating foods that were good for her, rather than eating foods just because I enjoy them or think they are good for me. I remembered the gardens at Loveland and the love that sister Shekhinah put in to them. Life and vitality growing straight from the earth. A sustainable life is one for me. A community that works together to grow food and nourish the land; giving back to the mother.

I connected with a viking brother, Michael, at the Amma gathering. We traveled to Mt. Shasta where we performed ceremony and connected to the strength that the mountain offers. Mike has been living between Lake Titicaca and Machu Picchu for the last 3 years. He expressed that he wishes to step into his divine masculine and bring strength for Amma so the feminine energy can continue to blossom on this planet. Riding a similar wavelength we made it down to the San Francisco area and spent a few days at a Bhakti Yoga retreat singing and learning about Anandamayi Ma and then to Los Angeles where we read from the Siri Guru Granth Sahib at a Sikh Gurdwara. On our way to Sedona, we stopped to see his friend in Vegas...curious!

To rewind a bit....When I was in AK I had a vision of two owl eyes which told me to go to China. Then I lived with a wise Grandmother who visited China many times and introduced me to "Kung Fu Panda!" Martial Arts began flowing through me, and I was told that many masters of Qi Gong fled China during the communist take over, and landed in Taiwan. On Hummingbird Hill, Becky shared her experiences of China with me. I traveled to a mushroom farm to learn the art of growing oyster mushrooms, and met a brother who lived on Taiwan for 2 years. He downloaded me with positive experiences from the island. After my encounter with the owl and the bear, I realized studying the sword would help me on my path the fearlessness. The study of martial arts would also help me to defend any children that I guide into wilderness/urban settings. During the only rainstorm while I was in Mendocino (on my last days there) Griff, Tague and I watched "Warriors of the Rainbow" which took place in Taiwan. To wield a sword, I would like to make a sword. I shared this with Griff, and found out he once tried to forge a sword when he was a child. After a quick google search, we found out that one of the world's greatest sword smith lives in Taiwan and is looking for an apprentice to train. The two of us agreed that we need to travel to Taiwan and learn this art. We both have interest in island life, surfing, spear fishing, yoga, music and martial arts. Everything is on the island. Arriving in Shasta, a ticket straight from NY to Taiwan arriving on the morning of the Chinese New Year drops in a price. We buy it. I connect with Michael. Our adventure begins with sleeping on an ice covered mountain and doing fire puja, sleeping in the Pluto caves, soaking in springs, hiking in the dessert by moonlight, and nourishing our bodies off of copious amounts of superfood powders and raw vegetables. Michael and I have similar vision of taking groups to sacred sights and sharing ceremony with groups. This turns into initiating groups of boys into manhood at sacred sights through ceremony. We visit the Sikh Temple; Michael connects to the lineage of the Gurus and remembers lifetimes living by the sword. Michael buys his ticket for Taiwan. We start planning on making videos as we visit sacred sights to document and raise awareness as we develop our program. We arrive in Las Vegas. "The Vegetarian Myth" awaits me in the guest room I am staying it. I scan the book. I read about Jhakta, the ceremony of reading prayers and then beheading an animal swiftly with a sword, practiced by the warriors Guru Gobind Singh.

Here I am, in sweet Annie's apartment in Las Vegas and all the puzzle pieces are fitting together.

Hail to the Sword. Jai Te Gung.

A Tale of an Alaskan Wilderness Therapy Guide

“The River she’s flowing, flowing and growing. The River she’s flowing, down to the sea. Mother carry me, your child I will always be. Mother carry me, down to the sea.”

On the fourth day up Mount Shakes, on Etolin Wilderness Island, Desi and I woke our participants up with this Native American hymn. For a few minutes, the children seemed to be in high spirits. Tents were packed up in record time, backpacks loaded and ready to go, and breakfast enjoyed with smiles on their faces. It did not take long before hell broke loose.

The initial excitement of hitting snowline did not last long. Snowshoes seemed fun at first, but fighting through the misty bitter cold wind trumped everything. Participants “mother F-ed” their heavy packs, throwing them on the ground and kicking the snow. Others threatened the guides, participants, and themselves with physical violence. Toes were freezing off, and participants refused to change socks or use plastic bags to insulate their feet. Through it all, some held on to their sense of “pride” rather than accept help from others. As a guide, it was quite devastating.

After rounding up the troops, setting up base camp, and digging a snow kitchen, we took time to go sledding and enjoy the luxuries of a hot meal. As the participants retired for the night, I spoke with my fellow guides about my descent on the following morning. You see, I was called out to this program to help support them for a short week. But I was beginning another program the following week, so I was going to have to hike down the mountain in 4 hours, which took us 4 days to get up. The problem: I was never given a map, GPS, bear spray, a working radio, or a back-up plan, nor could I take the other guide’s gear. As I discussed my dilemma with my fellow guides, I realized that my best bet was to take an accurate compass bearing and pray to God to help me get down this mountain without being mauled by a bear.

I woke up with the pouring rain, packed up my gear and began dashing down the mountain.  Avoiding frozen rivers and postholes, I nimbly made it out of snow line. With no trail, I was forced to follow my bearing with accuracy as I began a quick descent down a steep mountainside. As brush began to thicken and Devil’s club began to poke through my skin, I meditated on the image of the map. There is a river that flows from the top Shakes to the ocean, where I need to be. If I could find this river, I could follow it down to the ocean.

I began singing, “The River she’s flowing, flowing and growing…” as a prayer to mother earth and a bear deterrent. There she was, absolutely gushing down the face of the mountain. A true Alaskan river: one that would certainly take your life if you were to fall into it. I approached the pristine waters and began to pick up my pace. As I reached the top of a small hill, I was greeted by a group of Elk. Massive beings of the forest, surprised of my presence, they darted deeper into the forest without hesitation. I was abruptly reminded of the piles of bear scat that I had been walking through, and continued to sing as I marched down the mountain.

The river turned. My compass was now pointing NW, and I was supposed to be traveling SE. I began to doubt the memory I had of the map, or perhaps this was a different river, or maybe it split? How could a river travel up a mountain? It did not make any sense to me, but I knew I had to get down this mountain. At this point, the end of the road was in front of me. The cliff face was too steep to scale, and the river was pointing me in the wrong direction. The only option: cross the river.

Anxiously I searched the banks of the river for a shallow spot or a place to rock hop. No way. By God’s grace, I was led up river to a fallen Red Cedar tree that spanned the entire river, perhaps 50 feet or so. I belly crawled over a fallen tree with a full pack once in Maine, but the water under the tree was only a few feet deep and not nearly gushing as quick. I started asking myself: is this a test? I quickly convinced myself that it was. Without hesitation, I hugged this massive red tree, and scurried across, repeating mantra to help me stay focused. With a sigh of relief, I reached the other side; I began to sing once again.

As the rain continued to pour, determination began to carry me. I kicked and clawed through muddy banks, used roots to haul my body up and down hills, and studied the features of the land around me, using clues to find the ocean. When all seemed hopeless, the trees broke. I saw the ocean. I made my way to the rocky shores and began to search my memory for the exact location that they boat had dropped us off. I searched the trees for any evidence that we left behind. Nothing. I knew that I was in the correct bay, but I was quickly realizing that I was on the wrong side of the river. There was no way I was crossing the river again. I checked my watch: 11:11, exactly 4 hours down the mountain. As the boat was supposed to be arriving any minute, I made the decision to find a point jetting into the massive ocean and flag down the boat driver.

An hour passed. I continued to try to call the boat driver on my busted radio. I searched my pack for food. Nothing. I sat in the pouring rain thinking about my lack of shelter, as I shared a tent on the mountain and left it with the group, and my lack of food. Luckily, water was everywhere to drink. Another hour passed. Am I in the right space? Another hour passes. It is now after 2 PM and I am quite chilly and very hungry.

The boat zoomed around the opposite corner of the bay. I watched him from a distance as the boat drove into the heart of the inlet. Excited to be dry and fed, I put on my brightest clothes and used my bright green butt pad and yellow mountaineering helmet to wave in the air. Screaming at the tops of my lungs, I yelled, waved and ran up and down the coast trying to get the boat driver’s attention. Nothing. He reached the mouth of the river, and turned around, leaving the bay the way he came from. In this moment, I knew how a castaway feels.

Luckily, he turned around again, but he did not go any further than the river. As the boat turned his jet-powered engine off, I was sure that he would be able to hear me. Nothing.  I had to make a quick decision: do I continue to try and get his attention, or do I make a break for the river and hope that he will see me there? Think Michael. Think.

Bear bangers, or glorified M80s that shoot out of a plastic orange gun. We never shot them off in training, but I had 3 of them. I loaded the first one and pointed it to my right, not knowing how it was going to behave. Bang. Boom. I was sure every animal in the forest heard the explosion of this banger, but not the boat driver. In disbelief, I loaded the second banger. I pointed to my left, pulled the trigger. Bang. Boom. Again, he did not show any signs of hearing the loud explosion. Ready to fall to my knees in exhaustion and despair, I loaded the third banger, pointed it above my head and pulled the trigger. Bang. Boom.

A small plume of smoke was formed with the third shot. The boat driver saw the plume of smoke. The engine fired up, and he effortlessly drove the boat to me. As I grabbed my pack I heard, “Why are you over here? Why didn’t you call me on your radio?”

The River Always Flows, Always Grows, Down to the Sea.

Kauai to Alaska

Like the waves, a life in motion has brought me harmony and chaos; embracing this existence, I find myself in Alaska.

My adventures in Kauai were as follows:

            I left Laura Love’s/Vin’s place in search of the sacred springs of Polihale. Like most island transit, Kauai’s is quite slow going through towns due to congestion. Carrying heavy bags, equipped for both Hawaii and Alaska, I made it half way to the end of the road and decided to camp at the “Salt Pond” beach. In the small town of Hanapepe, I discovered an innovative organic market selling homemade concoctions and raw goodies of all sorts. Coconut water elixir of life, infused with supergreens and exotic berries filled my being with a renewed sense of vitality. I found myself playing my Ukulele into the sunset watching groups of people gather around fires and meals.

Early the next morning I made my way to Polihale, a 17+ mile white sand beach. The trek/hitchhiking experience was rough due to rain and long stretches of highway. I made it to the epic cliffs of Polihale; quickly setting up camp, I made for the rocks hoping to find the sacred springs that the Hawaiians believed was the exit for spirits. Mingling with mountain goats, baking in the hot sun, and dodging waves, I was unsuccessful in finding the springs. Disappointed, I searched for locals inquiring where this spiritual opening was located. Bewildered, most people believed it to be dried up or did not know what I was talking about. Plopping down on the sand, practicing Asana as the sun set, I found peace with myself. As the stars began to pop from the black night sky, I watched a UFO blast from the horizon, light up the night sky and then disappear. Excited and hopeful, I called out to my celestial family. Another blast, lighting up the sky and zigzagging in patterns I have never seen a normal plane move. It did not take me a minute longer to realize that the Naval base was at the end of the beach. Were we bombing Russia? Or were we just blasting missiles into the ocean? A pity, I will never know.

After enjoying a wasabi sauce dripping, ahi tuna taco, I hitched up to Koke’e state park. The wind tore through my hair as I passed by the magnificent Waimea canyon. The Grand Canyon the Hawaii earns its status and popularity with ease; massive red rock dug deep into the earth, creating an endless play of topographical magic in valleys and on mountaintops. My new Hawaiian friend, equipped with a rack of 8 GoPros, made sure to slow down at the best lookouts, give his girlfriend and me an opportunity to oogle with the tourists. He brought me to the state park, instructed me not to pay anyone, and to set up shop in the woods. I followed his instruction and continued to allow Mother Kauai to provide. As the stars began to burst from the darkness of the sky, I heard a Native American flute break the silence of the night, inviting my Ukulele to sing and join the sound in a harmonious dance in the crisp, clear night.

I woke at 5 am and began a 20+ mile day of exploration through the park. I skipped along the Nu’Alolo trail as the sun rose, warming my bones and revealing the splendor of the valleys that surrounded me. As I approached the ocean, the thought of Alaska moved into consciousness; leading me to a small patch of sunburst orange Amanita Muscaria mushrooms. Super excited, I picked 2 of these friendly funguses, and continued my trek (eventually preserving them in honey). Snacking on wild berries, coconut oil and wild nerstircium I twirled through forests of Redwood, Koa, and Eucalyptus trees. Bamboo forests to climb, gnarled branches to dodge, the forest is full of obstacles to keep one excited and the mind busy. My ears were filled with the sounds of sweet songbirds and my nose enjoying the blossoming of flowers. I love this place!

That evening I met an old time brother, the infamous flute player, named Wylatt. He informed me of the proliferation of GMO crops on Kauai. The Garden Island is being pirated by Monsanto and other massive organizations that work only for their own profit while disrespecting the land and the people who live on it. These companies are growing soybean seeds and other garbage to send over seas. They bought tons of waterfront property, rerouted spring water to give life to their GMO plants, and are dumping a heinous amount of chemicals on the land. As a result, many people of Kauai rely on food stamps to cover the cost to buy bottled water, fruits and veggies that are imported from Mexico, etc., the waterfalls are drying up, and the ocean is polluted: resulting in sick children.  This island has potential to be a Garden of Eden; growing all sorts of medicinal plants, fruits, and vegetables. The water is pure and rich in iron. Perhaps the humans that have created this system do not know any better, so we must forgive them; but that does not mean we need to let it continue. Awareness needs to be raised and our sacred lands need to be saved before we dry them up.

Leaving Polihale, I met two joyous females that invited me to stay at their place in Po’ipu, the sunny side of the island.  Wylatt escorted me to their home and I was greeted with open arms. Three wonderful women in their forties sharing a home and celebrating life for all it is worth, just the place for me! I spent the mornings teaching them Kundalini and Acro yoga, drinking coffee, and basking in the hot sun. During the afternoons I snorkeled, played music, explored the beaches, and danced. This period of time was truly effortless and extremely enjoyable. The ladies offered to drive me up to the North shore for my adventure into Kalalau Valley. I was given the island tour on the way up; a highlight was seeing Hanalei Bay, where Puff the Magic dragon came to life! Sunset at the end of the road led into an epic night of Sushi and celebration before my trek out to the valley.

The 11 mile Napali coast trail is no joke. My pack was extremely heavy (carrying almost a gallon of coconut oil and all my gear), but I was prepared with trekking poles and callused feet. Getting a late start, my arrival into the valley was later than expected. I met a half toothless man nicknamed Grizz and another dude who specialized in making Lilikoi moonshine upon arrival. They pointed me to the “Goddess Garden” to set up camp. Full of Aloe plants, oregano, and other delicious treats, the garden was the perfect place for me to nest for the first couple of nights.

Feeling the need to connect with Mother Earth, I ventured deep into the heart of the valley. I set up camp next to a spring fed gushing waterfall that poured into “The Outlaw Pools,” glorious bathing pools lined with wild mint, guava trees, exotic flowers, and Java Plums. On my adventures I met many of the old timers and experienced ones: Starman, Dolphin, Brooks, Shakina, & Tague(to name a few). They showed me to the gardens, pointed out orange trees, and invited me to create music and feasts with them. Mornings were spent stoking a small fire to heat water for lemongrass/mint tea, bathing in the springs, skipping to the mango tree 50 feet from my camp and feasting on fallen mangos. Many afternoons were spent exploring the crevices of the valley, stumbling upon gardens filled with luscious greens (kale, mustard greens, etc) left by others, picking oranges/guava/lilikoi, and climbing the Ulu tree to harvest breadfruit. Other days I would relax on the beach, strumming my ukulele and exchanging philosophy with other beach dwellers. Most sunsets were spent on the Heiau (sacred space) drumming, dancing, and chanting to the whales, moon, stars, and the abundance of the earth. Life was filled with bliss, peace, and serenity.

            As the days approached my departure from the valley, she would not let me go. I tried to leave one morning, and a huge storm came in. On that day, a woman died on the trail into Kalalau. The following day, I woke up at 4 am, and ventured out into the middle of the valley. A phenomenon known as the “Night Rainbow” occurs in this valley. The Kahunas said that if you saw a silver night rainbow, it was a blessing of the ancestors. As the moon was becoming full, the possibility for seeing a night rainbow was alive. I sat upon “Space Rock,” stared deep in the valley, and sure enough, a bright silver rainbow glowed over the valley. A great omen. The morning was bright with sun, and I quickly packed up my tent and gear. I made the hike out of the valley and to the “community kitchen.” Most mornings large groups of people meet to drink coffee and share their supplies for breakfast.  I was disappointed to see no one at the kitchen this morning. Odd. I scratched my head, paced around, and caught a glimpse of a newcomer rolling a cigarette. He pointed to the Heiau, instructing me to go and join the ceremony. Breaking into a slight jog, I saw all my valley friends dancing, singing, playing music with bright eyes and smiles in the sunshine. It was the most gorgeous day I had seen in the valley yet. Tague, a righteous brother, had brought out a large bag of fungus from Oregon that he had been saving. Everyone had just eaten handfuls of this magical plant and were preparing for a day of bliss and ceremony. I could not leave the valley on this beautiful day; so, I hustled back to my bags, set up my tent in a new space and made my way back to the Heiau.

            This single day was the most magical day of my life. Rainbows were with us on the horizon all day, sun shined, flutes/ukuleles/drums played, whales breached, waves crashed, surfers caught waves, dancing and moving in cosmic unison, fires created, and the depths of meditation reached. I remembered the divinity that lies within all of us on this day; our connection as one united heart and breath was apparent. In meditation, I recognized that everything that is happening on the outside is just our perception, a simple reflection.

            It was an epic way to leave the valley. My hike back was filled with reflection of the insights the valley shared with me. I spent a few days camping on beaches, exploring the North shore and the small villages along the way. Most of my time was spent hustling, as I never knew where I was going to sleep or get food next. Hitchhiking and going with the flow had become my everyday life. I had a few gashes on my feet from climbing trees and hiking barefoot that were getting infected with staff that lived in the soil. I did not notice it until my feet were swollen, becoming numb, and a small red line started to run up my ankle. I have heard stories of people losing limbs because of staff; I am way to aware and educated to let this happen to me. I stayed at a friend’s farm, boiled water and scrubbed my wounds. The pus lessened, but the infection was still there.

 Stopping at a store for chocolate and a papaya, I me a silver haired woman who was determined to introduce me to her younger friend; according to her, we would really get along. She was so determined, that she invited me into her home to stay. Graciously, I accepted. It was the first hot shower I had in a long time. The first evening I cooked for her and her granddaughter, organized their kitchen, and cleaned up after the meal. Thrilled, they invited me to stay as long as I would like. It was perfect for me, as my body needed a place for rest, relaxation and healing. I needed to rebuild before my journey to Alaska.

Sheila is incredibly open, honest, and generous. She lent me a bike to explore the hidden beaches, did my laundry, shared her VitaMix and many superfoods, and brought me on adventures with her granddaughter. Her friend and I never shared a spark, but Sheila and I formed a wonderful friendship. We discussed spirituality to the late hours of the night, visited the Hindu temple for puja, and ate all sorts of healthy, Hawaiian fresh food. I stayed with Sheila for a whole week, until the day I left Hawaii.

Kauai - The Garden of Eden?

Onward we march. The days continue to roll as each breath passes. Do I choose the ecstatic bliss of the moment, or follow the program of fear which is so deeply seeded in my bones? As I awaken to the true potential of presence, I put my head down in submission. For I do not know any better. Right or left? Right or wrong? Who am I to say? As my being empties my brain and body of waste, life become more fluid; moving in and out with the tides, gracefully sliding through river rocks, always refining, not ready for stagnation, blessed to be on this journey.

Finishing two novels, Iron John and Spirit Bear, helped to shape my mentality as I prepared for Kauai and Alaska. Both epic stories of manhood, coming to grips with nature and all the elements, finding peace within oneself, overcoming hardships in order to merge with truth, and rites of passage. Since the western civilization has raped and pillaged indigenous tribes and ritual, we are left with an alienated/isolated culture that is shitting all over the earth. We barely remember how to wipe our own ass, let alone plant a garden to feed our children. We have lost precious information during the mass executions of many of our greatest medicine people. In our current system, teachers are programed to create drones/robots/industry workers. We are no longer MEN and WOMEN. We rely on technology, we worry about everything, we poison ourselves, television and cell phones have become more important than face-to-face relations, and we are burning up precious resources. Today is a grim day.

Connecticut sapped me of energy. I sat in many circles of friends & family and observed the high-speeds in which we all live. While someone tells a story: a friend is tweeting about a football game, someone is playing Angry Birds, another is texting her boyfriend, on the wire bets being placed, and I stoke the fire. My ego wants everyone's full presence. If I am here, please be here too! Time is precious. Traveling gives me incredible perspective on the pace in which some people choose to live their lives versus others. I have not met anyone yet that I fully agree with. I feel that we are all stuck in limbo. It is wonderful that information is can rapidly be transferred with a few brain cells firing and a small movement of the finger. It is also wonderful to sit naked on the earth with no sound. Where do we go? What do we do? Do I take part I take part in this society moving towards technology dependence? Or do I unplug myself from the matrix? Hmmm Neo, I want the best of both worlds, the blue and the red pill.

I left Connecticut with the feeling that I no longer want to be responsible for answering my telephone. I do not want to pay state taxes when I do not have a residence in a state. TSA searches my bags: they stick grimy, plastic fingers in my green powders searching for explosives, and they haphazardly tear through my check on while leaving my machete unsheathed and ready to rip through my belongings. I am tired of being treated like a prisoner. All I want to do is camp in the woods, walk barefoot, pick fruits from trees, swim with the dolphins, help propagate the mycelium kingdom to heal the earth, teach children secrets of magic, dance and howl with the wolves, hibernate with the bears, and share sweet love with a divine Goddess. Society has taught me to fear the depth of the woods. Not only do "beasts" lie there, but so does the taxman, waiting to ticket the next hippie trying to get a free ride in the woods. Take the poor man's money and give it to the army - it's the American way! Yay Uncle Sam! You did it!

Tie leather straps to my ankles and hang me upside down. Swinging in the pine forest, bound to this never-ending existence, mish-mash sounds of song birds and motor cars, healing winds remind me of hope, in grace with tears of heaven.

Laura Love picked me up at the airport. I was welcomed into her home and invited to stay for the night. Kauai smells of Island lush and moist valleys. Ancient mountain ranges, blanketed with green forest and an ocean filled with divine intelligence. The fungus kingdom called to me early this morning and I stumbled upon many "prized" species of edible mushrooms. After a mid-morning yoga class with a 60+ year old British teacher, I took off to Sleeping Giant Mountain. Moving to the tunes of the Hang drum, Life presented its grandeur to me. Intricate carvings found in rocks, vines weaving through canopies, mud squishing between toes, grappling lava rock, forests of Bamboo/eucalyptus/pine, strong chestnut horse with white heron perched on his back, tangerines falling from many limbs, and a moment of peace.

Tomorrow I will help Vince, a proud new owner of a 2 acre plot on the foothill of Makaleha, build a cabin for him and his sweetie. In return, I will camp on his land for the time being. A short walk away are multiple fresh water springs and many trails open for exploration. I will make it to Koke'e park and Waimea canyon soon, and then to the Napali Coast. If you "google map" Kauai, I will be in the green. Laura Love will store my Alaska gear (thank you!) as I open to the unfolding of my path and destiny.

As we move closer to the light, remember, We are One.

Acadia National Park ~ Silver Wolf ~ Iron John

The new moon seemed like a great time to perform ceremony. Fasting and taking the path of the Siberian dancing shaman led me deep into an altered state. Surrounded by crystals, pyramids made out of high-quality arrows, sacred art, the smoke of sage/cedar/incenses, candles, and sound-current, I danced my way into an ecstatic state. My life seemed so clear in this moment: I needed to go to Maine before I could settle in Alaska. Motivation to dance left me, and I sat. My nervous system was overloaded and my body began convulsing all over. Three visions were scarred in my brain and looped over and over. One of a screaming face, the other two I cannot quite remember. My arms twitched in a constant rhythm and I entered into a state of unknown. A place I had never been before, where control was completely out of my hands. Alice traveled down the rabbit hole, but did she ever come back. Would I ever be normal again?

Liters of water, agonizing rest, and time brought a sense of equilibrium back into my body. Dizzy, I crafted an exquisite meal, which was barely enjoyed due to the loss of synapses in my brain. Functioning at the level of a zombie, I began packing. As the night turned into the early morning, I became determined to finish the job I started. There was no plan other than to be prepared for anything. I was going to drive up the coast of Maine until I either reached The College of Atlantic or veered into the White Mountains. Gear, food, and body were ready to go by 4 am.

At 8 am, I rose, packed my truck and began the hazy journey. I arrived in Kennebunkport on the footsteps of Danielle's home around lunch time. Flowers, chocolate, wine, and Guatemalan gifts in hand, I entered her families cozy farm house. The coal stove was roaring, the kitties purring, bellies being filled, and the puppy curled in a ball. I enjoyed conversation with her family, toasted to life, boiled Reishi tea, and continued on my way. I love Danielle with all of my heart. Similar to the epic tale of Brünnhilde, I saw the ring of fire and tried to cross it, and got burned.

I spent that evening with a great buddy, fantastic chef, and wise teacher, David Levi. At this point my brain was almost non-functional. David passed on a book to me, "Iron John," written by Robert Blye. Instantly the novel had a huge impact on me. Pepped up on caffeine and delicious food, I took off towards Acadia National Park, in hopes to get some nature/hiking time in as well as visit the College of Atlantic (COA - a prospective grad program I was looking in to).

Underestimating the linearity and speed of time in relation to the setting of the sun, I arrived well after dark. I filled my belly with raw coconut chocolate and made my way to the campground on the tip of Mount Desert Island. Surrounded by cold darkness began to inspire me. I fantasized about my time in Alaska and the prospect of meeting and partnering with a Husky/wolf ally that I could travel/hunt with in AK. As I was submersed in thought, a large silver wolf gracefully emerged from the forest. Thunderstruck, I stood still waiting for his/her next move. After telepathy failed, I tried whistling and then moving. All failed and the wolf took off into the woods. Either way, my heart and hopes soared to the heavens with the prospect of spending more time with the fantastical animals that we share the earth with.

Arriving at the campground was a bit disappointing. The road was snowed in, meaning almost a mile walk to the nearest camp spot. I was prepared for this though, so I cleared the bed of my truck, laid my sleeping pad and bag out, covered the bag with a tarp and climbed in. The stars pierced the dark night sky, filling my eyes and heart with wisdom that goes way beyond my understanding. I began to fade off, but was frequently woken by gusts of cold wind. Eventually clouds rolled in and the ocean winds picked up. I pulled the tarp over my whole body and head and cocooned myself in. The set up worked pretty well, but had one major flaw: my breath caused quite a bit of condensation which rained on my sleeping bag and then froze. So at 5 am when I finally had the courage to get out of my bag, it was frozen solid.

"Iron John" speaks of initiation into manhood. We lack this tradition in most cultures today; therefore, boys rarely become real men. Tribes might take the boys away from their mothers at 12 for a year, bring them out in nature, put them through series of physical and mental tests, make them fast & drink blood, and return them with a bit of hair on their chest! Now a days, men have lost the role of the hunter, protector; instead, we thought it was better if we became softies. This forced women into a "harder" "masculine" role that she is not naturally equipped to fill. Now we are in a whole shit show where genders are foggy and no one knows what their role is. Balance is thrown way off because of this insane epidemic we created! It is time to accept the wild man that lies within every man, love it, and become real men. It is my hopes to be a part of these initiations, for myself, but also to take boys on journeys into manhood.

My time at COA was magical. An incredible campus, inspired students, great faculty, delicious food, and a great community. I sat in a few classes and wanted to rip all the hairs out of my head. I cannot be confined to the classroom anymore. I have plenty of ideas, and I am ready to put them in action.

One idea I have is: recruit a group of 11 or 12 young males, personally teach them for a semester/year, travel with them, teach them to be human beings and responsible men, share a disciplined yogic lifestyle, eat and grow delicious food, submerse ourselves in music/arts/storytelling/martial arts, learn from the earth, create a space of trust and companionship, develop compassion through service, and consciously evolve. I will continue to fine tune this idea and hopefully have a succinct business plan soon. It would be nice to receive a large amount of private funding, a large plot of land, an airplane, a 15 passenger van, and connections for food/gear for the students. If you would like to invest in this project or have ideas how I could acquire roughly 3 million dollars, please do not hesitate to contact me.   mdenicola9@gmail.com.

Blessings. Peace. Prosperity. Love. Wahe Guru!

The Resurrection of Quetzalcoatl ~ 2013 ~ Chichen Itza ~ Hawaii to Alaska

The adventure lives on; the waves continue to crash. Like a dolphin, I surf the sea.

It has been a while since my last blog. Since then, we have all lived through the solstice, christmas, and the New Year. Reliving these experiences through written language is proving to be quite difficult, but I will do my best to relay my experience in a coherent way!

Meeting Brad and Kyle in Cancun felt equivalent to a monkey being ripped from the forest and thrown into a circus. Walking through this Mexican city made of plastic was disturbing and equally as humorous. Ultimately, the city seems to be a bubble of glutton and waste. High rising hotels, garbage, busy streets, abuse of alcohol and drugs, CAGED dolphins (not cool), corrupt policemen, overpriced food, and WalMart. Regardless, two of my best buds in the world were arriving and we had a sweet condo right on the beach for two days. The ocean was fresh, the sun warm, coconuts plentiful, and the music was flowing. It was a great reunion and the beginning of our journey as the three amigos!

Waking up the first morning to the sun blasting in my face, I was struck with a sense of urgency to find peace in the woods. For a few weeks I had been pondering spending the winter on Kauai and then hopping up to Alaska for the summer. Pure air, water, and food. With a happy gut, I can clear my mind, and then venture deep into the diamond of my heart. On this morning, I picked up my phone, connected to our condo's wifi, and found a ticket straight to Kauai from JFK for $160 leaving January 27th. At this point, I had already planned on traveling back to the states with my bros and surprising my family for Christmas. The 27th would give me a month at home, plenty of time to rejuvenate and prepare for Hawaii. Without hesitation, I bought the ticket, closed the blinds, and rolled over to go back to bed.

We almost made it out of Cancun without any problems, but a wild animal has no place in a twisted city. On the second evening, I pulled off the road to relieve myself of a full bladder. For the past few months, I had been living in villages without public bathrooms or in the woods. Typically, everyone urinated on trees. A symbiotic relationship that helps the trees to grow strong and healthy! Barefoot in the woods, I remembered my current location, quickly zipped my pants up before relieving myself, but it was too late. The police saw me (later I found out this is "what they do") and I was quickly surrounded by officers with hands on their guns. As I was explaining to the male officer that I did not urinate, a female officer was informing Kyle that I had blatantly exposed myself to her! With their flashlights, they tried to find traces of urine on the trees, pointing at random leaves and threatening me. At this point, I was ready to run, but I had two peeps to worry about and I wasn't wearing my bullet proof vest. As I continued to refuse their accusations, more cop cars pulled up. Batons in hands and fire in their eyes, the cops did not back down. At this point I was looking at 36 hours of jail time and a $170 fine. There was nothing I could do, so I put my hands up and climbed in the back of the cop car with no ID, no shoes, and a little bit of money. Right as I was imagining the colorful jail suit jumper I was soon going to be wearing, a female cop opened the door and signaled me out. Another female cop looked extremely nervous as she fondled the wad of American cash that Brad had just handed her. It took a bribe of $100 for them to release me and quickly scatter back to their crooked livelihood. Perhaps in the future these cops will be able to support themselves without taking advantage of unarmed civilians. For now, I forgive them and ask that we all send a prayer to the misfortunate souls that are living dishonestly. As the strong continue to pave the path of truth, those living in sin will find their way.

The solstice arrived quickly. After a night of indulging in Arroz con leche and chocolate, we were up bright and early to be a part of the beginning Mayan ceremonies at Chichen Itza. Elders were dressed in full regalia, smoking sacred tobacco pipe, burning sage, blessing the people with feathers, beating drums, and singing the sweet songs of our ancestors. People of every color of the rainbow had anticipated this day for years. The mark of the beginning of the new cycle. The transition from the Piscean to the Aquarian age or from the Iron to the Golden Age. According to Aztec elder, Mazatzin, we have 13 years from this day to get our act together. Either we will unite as one, or we will destroy each other. The idea of utopia sounds nice to me, so I vote for peace (or as Bob said "One Love").

The elders ceremony did not last long. They were off the temple grounds well before the vendors set up their booths and the camera waving tourists flowed in. We were blessed to be a part of this early morning ceremony. At this time, our journey began. An earthy sister approached us with chocolates filled with love and psilocybin mushrooms. The three of us opened our hearts to the fungal kingdom, sat down, held hands in prayer, and ingested the medicine of Quetzalcoatl.

As the medicine began to work, I found myself circling the main pyramid following the drumming, chanting, and dancing. If groups formed, I joined in their ceremony. If there was silence, I got on my knees and prayed to Mother Earth. For the first time in my life, I understood that we are all brothers and sisters. The sun is our father, the earth our mother, and we are their children. It is our duty to mature and take responsibility for ourselves, help each other, and take care of our Mother. As the morning progressed, I found myself being called to the main ball court next to the temple of Jaguars.

Barefoot, bare-chested, feather in my hair, I made my way to the ball court. Visitors led by tours snapped photos, children ran through the grass, and scientists tried to make sense of the beautiful carvings and statues. I found my way to the center of the ball court, where the earth opened up, revealing her precious silvery mud. Without hesitation, I began bathing in the sacred earth, connecting to all those who lived and played on this ball court. I began to feel at home, like I had lived here before. I found myself deep in prayer, filled with gratitude and bathed in the abundance of love that surrounded me. I looked up from the mud and my eyes filled with joy. A healthy tree fruiting vibrant orange flowers, like none that I had ever seen. Making my way quietly to the tree, I devised a plan to harvest a flower. With a quick swoop, I climbed the tree, snagging a flower in my teeth and dropping from the limbs before too many camera clickers could snap a picture. I was about to leave the court when I saw a precious, wise old mayan woman. It was her flower, and she accepted it with great pleasure and a large smile! The tree still stood, so I climbed back up it, this time snagging three flowers. One for each ear, and one for my mouth. As I thanked the tree for her flowers, I noticed that unconscious beings had stuffed her trunk full of plastic bottles. Disappointment quickly flowed through my veins. I picked up a bottle, looked at the crowd of people taking pictures of me, and began smacking it against my head; speaking the common language of the body that we can all relate to, and saying, "WAKE UP! This is our Mother, why are we polluting her?" I emptied the trunk of bottles, made my way to the trash, and was sent off with a twinkle of the eye and a "Gracias" from the beautiful, elder Mayan woman.

I felt the pain of Mother Earth, and it made me want to cry. I sunk my face into the ground, prayed to her, and then was greeted by a couple of news reporters. They shoved a microphone in my face and began rolling. I simply told them how I felt, sad and disappointed. It was a powerful moment as I asked humanity to wake up and nourish the roses! A friend of mine found part of the clip:  I appear at 1:31. The news reporters chose certain clips and interviews that made us look like a bunch ungrounded hippies living in the clouds. Regardless, I do believe heaven will reign again on this planet.

After being sucked dry by the camera, I ran into my two buds. They saw my sadness and tried their best to console me. I needed space so I made my way to the south side of the pyramid. Laying face down on the earth, I apologized for all the pollution and rubbish we have created. I felt like a bad child. At this moment, my bare leg was hit by a flapping piece of paper. I was angry at first, thinking, "ahhh trash!" Then a voice spoke to me, "That paper is for you Michael." I jumped up, and grabbed the rogue paper. On it read, "The Prophesized Return of Quetzalcoatl...found after the ingestion of entheogenic mushrooms." A workshop would be taking place the following day on this topic. What?!?! I looked back at my moccasins and a book was laying next to them. The book, "The Prophesized Return of Quetzalcoatl," is written by a man named Gaia. Where in the world it came from? I did not know. I looked around the crowd bewildered. Bowing at the pyramid, my faith in humanity immediately sky rocketed to an all new high!

Kyle and Brad could not explain the mysterious appearance of this book, so I made my way to Michael, the creator of the Synthesis Gathering. He was without explanation as well. Inspired by the flow of energy, I began asking Michael if we were going to gather everyone and have a UNITED ceremony. Of course he would like to, but everything was scattered. We agreed that it could be done, but someone would have to do it. Filled with divine energy, I agreed to the task. A business partner approached Michael with business matters, and I was suddenly alone again.

No Fear. I used to wear a hat that used that slogan when I was a young boy, now I strive to live it. Seeing the potential of a situation and yearning for unity, I  I began running around the pyramid rousing up the crowds of people, "Everybody, lets hold hands around the pyramid. Please!!!" At first people thought I was insane! But then, certain people began saying things like, "Yea, I had the same idea. I will help you." They would start gathering their friends. I covered the 4 corners, making sure to have a strong leader at each corner. The circle began to form. As I made my way to the west face, I saw Kyle and Brad holding hands. I broke through their hands; Kyle looking at me bewildered, he said, "Mike, aren't you going to be a part of the circle?" With a smirk, I replied, "I am!" Then I took off running like a wild man around the pyramid, letting out the loudest Indian cry I could, "ayeyeyayyayaa!!!" One hand raised in victory, I made my way back to the South face. Right where I was praying was the last break in the circle. I held the hands of a small boy and an elderly lady, then the circle began to move. The little boy almost in tears said, "this is so beautiful!" As I looked up at the sky, 3 birds of prey swooped through the clouds and began to circle the pyramid. The clouds broke and the sun shone on the pyramid for the first time that day! We were pulsing with love and gratitude for existence, and our Mother and Father were happy! Quetzalcoatl returns!

I made it to Gaia's workshop the following day, and it turns out he put the book on my shoes. He said he saw me in prayer and it looked as though I could benefit from the book! I could not agree more! During his workshop he explained that indigenous tribes of Central America used entheogenic mushrooms as a link to the divine. They fasted, prayed, and then ingest the mushrooms as the sun was setting (a symbol of entering the underworld). Then, they would dance. Through ecstatic dance, they could access the spirit that became known as Quetzalcoatl. Throughout the book, Gaia references many statues and engravings that show Quetzalcoatl sprouting out of a mushroom, or shamans dancing with mushroom heads, or Quetzalcoatl flying with mushroom in hand. It is Gaia's belief that "now" is the time when humanity is going to reawaken to the potential of ingesting mushrooms in sacred ceremony to resurrect the spirit of the feathered serpent sun god, Quetzalcoatl. I agree, it is time to reveal the truth. Humanity is almost ready!

That evening we ingested more another mushroom chocolate. The bros went on a mission through the woods, and in silence, I danced ecstatically to electronic music for hours at the outdoor music venue of Synthesis Festival. I do not recommend this path for everyone, but if you are called to it, please be safe. It is wise to do ceremony with a reliable shaman if you are new to ingesting mushrooms. If you go into the ceremony pure in your heart and intention, empty in your gut and mind, then you will experience your own divinity. This is only one path, for there are many that lead to the one source. Follow your heart.

I deep gratitude and love, I thank you Kyle and Brad for the wonderful adventures we shared!

I have no been home for a couple of weeks recovering from a bad case of parasites/Giardia. My days have been filled with rest, hiking, cleansing, and fasting on E3 Live Algae, greens, & clean food. A couple of days ago I reconnected with a friend from Alaska, Adam Jordan, to obtain a name of an organization that he recommended to me a couple of years ago. Alaska Crossings: a wilderness behavioral health program. Check it out, it's pretty awesome! I applied, interviewed, and by the Grace of God, I begin training on March 12! Soon I will be leading 41 day wilderness expeditions in Alaska, mentoring and guiding Alaskan youth who need support. Wahe Guru!

From the bottom of my heart, I love you all. Let us remember that we are all brothers and sisters. We do not need to destroy this planet or each other. We can live in peace. Let us let go of our "warrior" mentality and embrace Love, Compassion, and Equality. Please.