Ki Earth Journal: Settling down in Santa Cruz

Dear Friends -

I hope this moment finds you in love, at least with yourself.

After traveling the U.S. from June 2010 to June 2011, visiting friends and family, nesting in temporary retreats to write, camping some nights, renting a motel room now and then, and sometimes having no idea where to go next . . . I finally found a place where I can relax and feel at home.

My bother Jerry and Cecille invited me to stay in their little guest cottage in Aptos, just south of Santa Cruz, California. I'm in the studio space above the garage. I really like Santa Cruz. The downtown is upscale and trendy - and it’s sort of the retirement lounge for old hippies. I’m an old hippie, so I feel pretty comfortable here. There is something refreshingly retro about this place . . . in an area of 75,000 people there is not one Walmart anywhere in sight! Elvis is long gone.

I've come to realize that when I first started my travels I was looking for a “home,” but as I got deeper into the writing of my novel Shambala, my quest turned into looking for the best place to write. Perhaps this will be my ideal writing den. I'm a grateful artist freed to focus on my art.

There’s no getting around it - as an artist I see the world in my own unique and often peculiar way. An exceptional artist will express their art in the way that flows naturally. Van Gogh saw the world in impressions and painted that way.

Impressionistic Cadillacs stuck in the mud a few miles west of Amarillo, Texas.

Van Gogh wouldn't paint and sell pictures of windmills to tourists, even though he could have lived better if he had. For most of my life I wasn’t an exceptional artist, in that I made art wrapped in a struggle to survive. I compromised my talent and that had an effect on my artist's soul. Once I let go of the ceramics and embraced writing, I stopped compromising. Each time I found a retreat place along the way, Shambala was a joy to write. 540 pages flowed from my fingers. For the first time in my life, making money wasn’t the motivating factor. This wonderful story proved to be pure, raw inspiration and I can hardly wait to share it with you.

Mt. Kailash - considered the most sacred mountain in the world

is central to the plot of Shambala

And, of course, there is no doubt that it takes money to live in this world. I have used my savings to travel around - and soon I will have to invest in printing books, which I will want to have available. I will have to pause in order to sell Shambala to the salesman. But more than anything I really want to share the Path to Paradise. The story has reminded me to open my eyes and heart and to see the beauty that surrounds me - wherever I go. It reminds me that wherever I am - I am - in paradise.

I left Tennessee almost three weeks ago and drove to Taos, New Mexico where I spent six days with my gypsy family. I really like Taos - it’s like an island high in the mountains. Fresh air, clean water, nice people. I could live there. From Taos I drove west to the LA area - Corona Del Mar, Cardiff-by-the-Sea, Duarte and Santa Monica.

I had wonderful meetings with people I love, who love and accept me. I planted some “writing” seeds in good soil, and I will patiently wait for the flowers to bloom.

Self-Realization Fellowship pond in Santa Monica

I have come to realize after all my travels, that I am a West Coast man. I’m familiar and comfortable with the land west of Oklahoma. It’s pretty obvious to me that the Western U.S. has a different energy and personality than the American South - and the western ways are more to my liking. All those southern states I’ve traveled through - Tennessee, North Carolina, Kentucky, Georgia, and Alabama - are extremely beautiful - lush with forests, rivers and lakes, birds and wildlife and Adult bookstores.

In all fairness - Chattanooga is the cleanest city I’ve ever seen. They’ve spent multi-millions to build parks and riverside walkways. Incredible public art is all over the place. Everyone I met there was kind and helpful, and nobody bothered me with their religion. June and Scott treated me like family, opening their home and hearts to me with a whole lot of love and respect. Not every Southerner is born again, eats fried chicken five nights a weeks and lives in a trailer park.

When I write my novels - like Twins of Kashal (now being reworked as The Crystal Women), Shambala and Two Crows - I’m very respectful of organized religions. Blogging is different. It’s been fun for me to let lose and ramble on in this forum; to be blasphemous, sacrilegious, satirical and silly; to get lost in petty parity exaggerations. I certainly don’t mean to offend, though sometimes I can’t help myself. I have to say something about things like this sighting in Arizona.

Being from the West I just know that Western Christians have a better sense of humor regarding Jesus and porn. They just do. Instead of the blanket Jesus-saved-me-so-its-OK-to-be-a-redneck-asshole, the Catholics sin, confess, sin some more, confess, and it keeps going on in a lighthearted Jesus, Mary and Joseph way until they die and go to hell for all the lies they told during confession. A weird part of me likes lumping Jesus, porn, Starbuck, Walmart and the second coming of Elvis all together. OK, I’ll throw in a few gray aliens and a six pack of Bud. To balance all my 'bad' out, one day soon I may write a serious discourse regarding what I have learned about Jesus after over forty years of religious and spiritual study. I'm slowly compiling The Memoirs of an Old Hippie, which will include my spiritual journey. In my next blog I may send a short story I first wrote in 1975 when I lived here with Sara, mother of our two sons, before we were married, titled "St. John of Santa Cruz." Stay tuned.