For three selections from what I’m now calling “On the Road with TVB,” see this:
After putting the printed material into a word doc over the past week or so, I’m now proofreading and beginning to reformat. Plus, what shall the cover page look like?
After a lifetime of writing, sometimes publishing, and then moving on, always moving on, my fiery nature hungry for more and more while spewing nuggets of hard-earned meaning as I go, I am now, at the age of 75, determined to get my entire written corpus over nearly five decades — hundreds of essays, plus five book-length manuscripts — into e-books, sorted according to theme. To this end, I give myself to the end of the year, when the once-every-30-year transit of serious, steady, goal-oriented Saturn, now in Capricorn, finally stops crisscrossing over my natal Venus/Mercury (triggering multiple associated aspects: a wide conjunction with the Sun, a close, mutable cross with Neptune/MC and Eris/IC, and a very precise yod (“finger of god”) formation with natal Saturn and Pluto).
I had almost forgotten about this blog series. And certainly hadn’t read through it, from front to back, ever! Composed from July 25 through September 29th in 2007 when, after two intense months of planning, logistics and networking with countless friends, I took a ten week road trip solo over nearly 9000 miles to seven western states, sleeping in 33 different beds, and holding 28 workshops on the subject of Grief.
My intent for the journey was strong and clear. I wanted to use my just published book, This Vast Being: A Voyage through Grief and Exaltation as a foil, to galvanize the American public to plumb below our preoccupation with surfaces, to the place where our pain over loss, both individual and collective, and long held in denial, resides, festers, morphs into disease, depression, addiction — and worse! — when not consciously addressed, moved through, and released.
I still want to do that! We must! The need is even more acute now, over ten years later, when accelerating polarization has turned us against each other and flashes into violence.
Luckily, I still have around 2000 copies of the printed book left. They are here, safely protected, in the basement. Where shall they go? Who needs them? If you already have the book, and have read it, will you please review it for both exopermaculture and for Amazon? Plus, should I do another road trip?
I will try to put the 2007 “On the Road” blog series up tomorrow as an e-book (about 60 pages, if 14 pt type) — at least a preliminary version, though full formatting may take awhile.
A few days ago, I asked my housemate Alex if she wanted to work part-time to assist me. Today she agreed. YES!
Here are a few quotes from the beginning of “On the Road with THIS VAST BEING”:
“In my mind’s eye, a mountain of grief, now beginning to spout like a volcano, or boil, from the collective body. I see hundreds, thousands of circles of grief, gathering to remember who we really are as persons longing for love, as souls pouring out love. There is no end to what might be created when we allow ourselves to dive into our deepest fears, our deepest denial.”
“I have yet to meet anyone who disagreed with this premise: that grief may be at the bottom of all that keeps us from exploring our connection to the universe beyond the momentum that still drives this culture — the fear of lack and the hunger for status and physical goods in lieu of real meaning.
“The astrology of current times is consistent with Mayan and other prophecies of a coming “end-times” in which those who can evolve rapidly enough to withstand the stresses of increasing acceleration of the pace of events will be called upon to provide leadership and refuge for others less fortunate. These aware souls will need to be able to work with grief on a massive scale, given that humanity will suffer increasing losses of all kinds. To my mind, the most important preparatory work we can do is to give ourselves time to slow down to stillness, and to allow whatever unprocessed grief that we ourselves are still holding to surface. As grief surfaces, and expresses — through tears, howling, dreams, art work, dancing, whatever! — it transforms, quiets down; miraculously, we find that our awareness can then spread into a spaciousness that naturally includes others. In this way grief becomes the gateway to love.
“In this way we can move beyond the “me first” territorial attitudes that breed hostility and war and keep us from finding solace in each other’s company, keep us from sharing what we do and are and have with gratitude and trust.”
