It is the original revelation.
If you reject, renounce grasping materialistic orthodoxies, if you
reject, renounce business-as-usual, if you seek the realization of
not-business-as-usual, the realization of the higher consciousness, the
higher self, your being will be imbued with the sauce, the salsa de
vida, more life in life.
This is not a thing of static, stagnant, repetitious bliss. IT is a
thing of toiling energetically and greatly in the vineyards of the
not-business-as-usual, in the wonder world.
Movement in the wonder world is propelled by serving others, by being
the others' niggah. Movement is propelled by challenging and increasing
the powers of love.
In this revelation I saw anew the place of origin of this voyage, this
narrative of the bloody, snake chariot, Mystic, CT, (see
www.libbyhome.blogspot.com) when I arrived in early October accompanied
in the wondrous song of Ms. Bonnie Paine, Mr. Dan Rodriguez, Mr. Sage
Cook, and was re-united with the wondrous word, the amazing drum of Mr.
Pete "The Shack".
We could only stay in the Mystic for four days. We all had further
gigs. I had a Halloween appointment, a summons to appear at the Clear
Creek Colorado County Court.
Although I had escaped any legal consequences of my friend's and his
girlfriend's Jerry Springer universe (see www.libbyhome.blogspot.com),
while toiling in my friend's business-as-usual in early September,
while gas-ing up his vehicle in Georgetown, CO., it was noticed by a
policeman that the registration of the vehicle had lapsed more than
several months previous.
The policeman was a good dude. He was trying to follow Rabbi Yeshua's
advise to the Roman military policeman of doing only what is necessary,
of avoiding the doing of harm. He said it was no big deal. But then I
couldn't find a valid insurance card in my friend's vehicle.
The policeman did a computer check. He could find no evidence my friend
did not have insurance. He could not find any evidence he did have
insurance.
He did what he said he had no choice but to do. He gave me a summons to
appear in Clear Creek County Court at 9 a.m. on October 31 at the court
in Georgetown, CO. He said that if I did not appear a warrant for my
arrest would be issued.
It was intriguing to have this fixed appointment in Colorado. In honor
of my court appointment those of the song arranged a near-by Halloween gig.
I had feared that four days in Mystic would be too short a time to do
my not-business-as-usual. But in the end it was enough time.
Then there was joyous movement to Rita Brown's place on the Blueberry
Lake in Vermont at the time of the peak fall foliage. Rita is a
beautiful, nurturing patron of the song who has taken a personal
interest in the nurturing of the song of the wonder world. Movement to,
through and from Rita's universe was all joyous movement through a
transcendent universe.
Then there were the gigs in Oklahoma. There was a Tahlequah wedding on
the banks of the Illinois River.
The ceremony began with a Cherokee Holy Man playing guitar and singing
'Amazing Grace,' in the Cherokee language as the wedding party stood in
the river, and overhead eagles soared. The Cherokee Medicine Man who
conducted the ceremonies invoked all the living, all the dead to bless
the ceremony.
And they did.
After the ceremony was a classic, joyous Tahlequah party.
Then it was onward to the further gigs, and appointments in Colorado.
In Colorado came a time when I could no further give to the song. I
became a burden to the song. It was my time to take leave of the song -
for now.
I got employment as a Mexican at a friend's family's organic cattle
ranch, near Gunnison, Colorado. I joyously, appreciatively worked with
Mario, my new hermano, a full-blooded Cora Indian.
We attended to the cattle, horses, burros, mule, pigs, and cats. We
wrestled with that beautiful, austere, mountain-framed earth, expanding
the ranch's hay field by clearing tons of rocks. We made our toil into
play by joking in the wonderful idiom of Mexican Spanish.
As my court appointment approached I learned that the court clerks had
no record of my summons. Halloween came and Halloween went and record
of my summons has not been found by the clerks of the court. In the end
I did not have to keep my court appointment.
I grew in my Spanish. I grew strong wrestling with the earth and the
rocks. I got paid enough to return to the Mystic.
I write this after arriving again in the Mystic after a 56 hour train
voyage. I write this with no expectations and anticipations - except
that I will be surprised about where the further joyous movement, the
further movement and growing in the sauce will take me.