Me, and My Shadow

Ah, Lian.

The longest, and most important relationship in my life has been with that crazy lady. :o)

Being unable to define the darned thing, it may be tough for me to describe it to anyone that hasn’t seen us together. So? Instead, I’ll just give a brief overview of our history.

We met back in La Mirada as teenagers. Initially hanging out with mutual friends, and very soon spending all of our time together. From schooling to sparring, sharing it all. We never tired of the company, although sometimes our camaraderie was pretty volatile. Lian was the first person that I felt comfortable exploring my mind with. She was happy to talk about any crazy subject that would come up. (Why tortoises hate philosophy, why too much religion is bad for goats, and what it really is that handmaidens actually do.) She was also willing to embark upon any crazy adventure that we’d dream up. (We liked finding places without people, when possible. Places on distant hilltops where we could see the heavens. Also, in the dark of night, the stars below us were campfires, out in the desert, and the lights of remote towns high in the forested mountains. Townships are smeared nebulae, cities are vast constellations; the great sprawling city of LA, for example, glows like a couple of colliding galaxies.) This, eventually, is how we ended up living together in Sedona, Arizona.

We stayed in the Red Rocks for quite a while, moved back to La Mirada for a bit to study the martial arts, and bought a 30’ RV. Rushing to the aid of another friend, we ended up in Tucson, Arizona where Lian started at the astrological university. After a year or so cruisin’ around in the RV, we got a house. After a few years in the house, however, we parted ways & haven’t really seen each other since. Crazy huh? We lived with each other for about 9 years total.

Why’d we separate? It’s a hard question and has a lot to do with the closeness of our relationship. We weren’t dating, but our other friends were typically intimidated by the intimate nature of our companionship. We were often called “twins” by the people around us, or “impenetrable” by those trying to share our lives. We lost a few opportunities for relationships over the years with some amazing people, because they felt nervous about the nature of our bond. In the end, a gent that Lian was interested in would not stay with her as long as she would stay with me. So, she felt that in order to grow in new ways she’d have to say farewell to our partnership.

And we have grown from the new directions. Initially, our relationship was as self-centered as a gyroscope. We were so intertwined that we were unable to grow in distinctive directions. Now that our branches have been separated & detangled, however, much more light is being shed upon our individuality.

It’s strange, ya know? Not having Lian around? Well, of course you wouldn’t know, so you’ll just have to take my word for it. When so much of your life has been built around another person, all sorts of patterns form in unexpected ways. Thinking models & conceptual structures. Verbal cues and physical language. Often times I feel like an amputee with phantom sensation. Even right now, I can still feel her there. :oD

Disturb us, friend, when we are too well-pleased with ourselves;

When our dreams have come true because we have dreamed too little;

When we have arrived in safety because we have sailed too close to the shore.

Stir us, friend, to dare more boldly,

To venture seas where storms shall show Creation’s majesty.

Where losing sight of land, we shall find the stars.

Ancestral Qi

Family has always been one of the truly important aspects of my life.

To anyone in my blood relation, or who knows my history, this probably sounds funny. I’ve never been one to look forward to a Carlson get-together, or a Mattox family holiday. It’s taken me a long time to reconcile these two points. The single most helpful bit of information came from Lian’s Chinese astrological instructor. He told me to avoid Ben Stiller movies. Then, he discussed what they call the “Parents Palace.” The majority of my “dark stars” (places where I would run into difficulty) are in that location.

This made perfect sense to me. THAT’S why I’ve always sought out deep, long-term, family-like relationships with people around me (since then I've been surrounded by incredible friends that I consider family); but have always felt exhausted and constrained around my blood relatives. All I know is that I have always felt the urge to get away from them all.

Usually, when people ask about my parents, I tell them that I haven’t really seen my family in a decade. When pressed for more, I usually just say that we didn’t get along.

My family was alternately hilarious and humorless, generous and greedy, loving and indifferent. Most were obsessed with certain ideas that I did not care for, and uninterested in some concepts that continue to fascinate me. Although I enjoy movies, I would flee from every opportunity to watch with my relatives. Eating meals in a group is one of my favorite activities, but I never chose to sit around a table with my blood. Why? Were they really so bad? Well, no. Not at all. Sometimes, in fact, they were down-right pleasant. I just never really felt sunny around them.

The astrologer talked about my health and my sense of well-being quite a lot. He said that I had quite powerful “qi” (vital life energy) in both places. When I questioned why I didn’t begin to feel well until the latter half of my life, he was stymied. After a moment, however, he looked at my parents palace and asked when I stopped spending time with my family. It’s quite true that my sense of aliveness began to emerge only when I was away from them. His only advice was for me to stay away. (…and this from a Chinese perspective! They would only advise such a thing when faced with a chart like my own. Historically, I would have been sent away as a monk or some other apprentice to help balance my qi. ) I’ve decided to take the suggestion.

For years now, I’ve been undergoing some pretty substantial transformation. My whole perspective on the nature of, well…life, the universe, & everything is radically different than it was when spending time with blood. I was always unsure of how to handle this “family” business. I thought that I should wait to contact them until I was feeling clear and emotionally liberated. There should be none of those emotional knots that many kids experience with their parental units. So, I meditated and practiced other powerful Daoist arts of internal transformation for several hours every day. (Currently, I train closer to 8 or 10 hours daily.) Now, I finally feel clear enough to communicate my thoughts and feelings, and to hear what my family has to say in return. Long though it may have been, the time apart has been super important to my own sense of well-being. I don’t regret a single choice in the matter.

…Now, however, I get to see how they react. :o)

++++++++++++++++++

The limpid river runs between the bushes,

The horse and cart are moving idly on.

The water flows as if with a mind of its own,

At dusk, the birds return to perch together.

The secluded town is opposite an ancient ferry,

The setting sun now fills the autumn hills.

And far below the mountain’s tumbling ridges,

Returning home, I close the door for now.

The Smile Hidden Inside Every Bun

Looking back upon my life, it seems that I’ve only been awake for… roughly half. That is, memories of my childhood are only vague & indistinct. To me, it truly does seem like I was sleep-walking through the first half of my time on this planet. There came a very specific moment when I suddenly noticed the universe at large. Since then, I’ve diligently been clearing the mental cobwebs and wiping the sleep from my eyes.

I suspect that this is a universal experience, and why the Daoists seek to become “Real Humans.” Isn’t it funny, then, that the more “real” you become, the more “unreal” the whole of the world gets? Now, I bet that the last statement sounds pretty strange to a non-meditator, but you’ll just have to take my word for it. It’s as if the solidity and weight of the world (including my-“self”) becomes less & less with each passing breath.

How much of this new clarity is due to my practice, how much simply to being this John-Person, and how much owed to the process of time passing? If you’ve ever stood with your nose pressed to a window, looking outside, you’ve had the experience of your breath fogging up your own view. I think that everyone lives this way, with their own distortion getting in the way of their perspective. Every day, I see the nature of the universe with greater lucidity. Slowly becoming fully awake. Maybe that’s why monks are always wearing pajamas? Hmmm…

There was, in fact, a “moment” that I recall as one of my first true instants of alert awareness. When I was about 15, I was living with my blood family in Los Angeles County. As a teenager, I was constantly ill in some way, and always tired. My whole body hurt, and my mind was endlessly fuzzy. Of course, I didn’t know that I was feeling this way. How can you know what “health” feels like if you’ve never experienced it before? I’ve always liked other people, but was pretty reclusive because of the discomfort. I never sought out social interactions, and constantly avoided family like the plague. So, as usual, I was reading in my room during one of the big family BBQs that my mom was so fond of having. Somebody, perhaps one of my aunts, was kind enough to bring me a burger (although I was already having some issues with eating meat). Peeling back the bun and taking off the lettuce to see what condiments she had put on it was, undeniably, a smiling face.

(I know what you’re thinking, and yes this probably is very similar to somebody in Mexico seeing the Virgin Mary in their tostada. However, for me, it was a smiley face.)

There was this absolute removing of all the veils from my mind, and I experienced the entire universe grinning at me and loving me through this little bit of dead cow. Also, I was suddenly able to recall countless times before that moment, when similar communications had occurred. I had simply been too distracted to notice. The whole universe was constantly shouting out and declaiming its love and joy, …and I had never heard?! All of the discomfort in my body-mind vanished as the silliness of my attitude became perfectly clear. The perfection of all existence was undeniable and blatantly obvious. Nothing was hidden, I had simply been…asleep.

Much later, after laughing for what seemed like hours, I tried telling my father of this experience. Unfortunately, I just didn’t have the words to communicate my transformation to him. I’m sure that the meaning was masked and obscured by Christian slang & his own metaphysical opinions. Another day, I remember attempting to communicate these feelings to my mother, but her typical negativity convinced me that it was something that I should simply keep to myself.

And so it went. Years would pass before I would even vaguely discuss my experience of the world with anyone other than Lian. She seemed to intuitively understand most of what I would talk about, and that gave me the courage to explore the ideas further. Not until later, in graduate school studying medicine, did I realize that telling people about this viewpoint was sometimes helpful to them. Oftentimes, after telling friends, they would treat me differently; but I have learned how to avoid those problems as time goes on.

Now, funnily enough, sharing this knowledge is my hobby and my profession. I am immensely grateful for having been given the chance to experience love as deeply as I have in my life. It’s all that I could ever want or need.

By the way, ever since this childhood experience, I have always drawn little smiley faces on paperwork, dusty cars, bathroom walls, etc. It was always my private little joke.

Leaning alone in the close trees,

I am playing my lute and humming a song

Too softly for anyone to hear --

Except my comrade, the bright moon.

Into the Woods

After obtaining my master’s degree in traditional Chinese medicine, I wondered what opportunities would present themselves. With the closing of that particular chapter of my life, I knew that another, even more wondrous phase would begin. Also, I knew that by simply turning the pages, my story would become sweeter and sweeter.

That is, after all, how life works. (Be sure to tell your friends.) :o)

So, I began to explore possibilities during my meditation sessions. Sure, I was “supposed” to be sitting there in stillness, but I was having too much fun. The internal dialogue went something like this:

I could take up a job in a hospital & make tons of money? No, too hectic. I could work in a small clinic & treat the underprivileged? Nah, the idea of working within a physical, intellectual, ethical, & economic shoe-box doesn’t sound fun. How about opening my own clinic? And do all that paperwork? Are you joking? Hmmm… what about shirking the whole “Dr. John” mess by simply treating friends and community members for free & on my own time? Yes! That sounds fun! It would take longer to pay off my schooling, but I’m in no hurry. Also, by bucking the system of licensure & insurance that I don’t agree with, I can help to deconstruct the stagnant social paradigm. ...or something like that...

Where to live? Should I stay in the desert? Well, I do enjoy Tucson, but the dry weather isn’t very good for my body. How about BeiJing? While the idea of studying with some of the masters in that area & furthering my mandarin sounds fantastic, I don’t like the idea of having my lungs turn black. Back to Tasmania? No, the last time I was there, they were slashing and burning the old-growth tree groves. The Blue-Tier Rainforest must be a cattle-ridden field by now. I loved New Zealand, but there aren’t enough instructors out there. In the end, I realized that a life in the forest sounds the most ideal. I searched, and found a forest near enough to a major city to be accessible, but far enough away to be completely isolated. Yosemite National Forest is only a few hours away from San Francisco. That city has some great instructors that I can train with, and Yosemite happens to be just about the most beautiful place that I have ever seen.

What about money? They say it’s important.

Yeah, I guess I have to pay back my loans.

(sigh) Alright, what sounds like fun? Well, I love to teach meditation, qigong, taiji quan, etc. Why not continue with instructing? Great idea! That way, I can make enough money to survive, and need not charge my patients for their healing. Should I open my own school? Well, I tried that and it wasn’t very much fun. Okay, scratch that idea. Why not just work for someone else? Even if I’m making minimum wage, it’s plenty to live simply with. I can teach sunrise & sunset classes like I enjoy doing anyway. …and running them in Yosemite makes the training a wondrous experience. Huzzah!

At this point, satisfied that all of these choices felt “right” for me, I settled back into the cultivation of stillness. I figured that life would take care of the rest. Lo & behold, several months later, I found myself living & working in the park! I am paid for 3 hours of sunrise classes, and 3 hours at sunset. Surrounded by trees & mountains, in sight of a river, I treat many members of the community every day. So far we’ve had great success with everything from rheumatoid-arthritis to emotional depression. As life would have it, I make much more money than I need to survive AND am able to help support friends with their own schooling. How great is that?

Most of my day is spent with my practices, teaching, treating, and chilling by the river. Ahhh, paradise. I knew that the next phase of my life would be great, but how could I predict just HOW amazing it would become!?

---

My heart in middle age found the Way.

And I came to dwell at the foot of this mountain.

When the spirit moves, I wander alone

Amid beauty that is all for me....

I will walk till the water checks my path,

Then sit and watch the rising clouds --

And some day meet an old wood-cutter

And talk and laugh and never return.