White Mountain Retreat: Pt2

2023-06-22

Where Ya Be?

I lay in bed, this morning, just listening. The meditation is to do just what I am doing; Focused; Mindful; Aware; Distract the thoughts; Doing just being.

The wind is heard in the distance. Invisible clumps of it are heard out there, in some direction outside of the tent. Then, when they come toward us, the tree’s branches above seem to move like a whip. But there’s not so much ruckus down here, below it all.

I roll to my side, one elbow supports against impending collapse.  This morning, there’s a new world out there past the bug net screen. Parts of the mind are still climbing out of the nightly haze, as the body, now on all fours rolls somehow into a squat.

A zip and then a place for the head to fall through, I climb out of the protective tent.

Bright sun, fresh pine scented air, my naked body gets acquainted with the elements of the morning.

There’s wind. We get a break here from the numerous trees between us and the vast grassy field, which is surrounded with more distant dark forests. The gusts travel above us.

It’s a June wind. The weather service said gust as high as 45mph SE and SW, last night.

A giant whipping arc circles around from the north. It manages to penetrate the wind block. Very chilly air creates a shiver up and down a naked body. I’ll have to accept that it will likely happen again this morning, as just an occasional anomaly.

I say a little prayer for direction. I listen, aware and sit down to put some time into this.

Winds are passing on different courses, generally from the SE. A burst is cast into the treetops. In another spot in the forest, more distant, I hear another.

The wind comes across the vast field. It seems to swoop down and then swoop up into the tree’s canopy. We feel only a gentle breeze here, near the ground. I hear the sounds through dancing trees and at times a slight howl. It is like the coming of great beings announcing themselves, flaunting their energy as they push the other beings around. I listen and watch and track their travel.

It’s cool in the shade. At nearly 10,000 feet, the sun feels warmer, more intense. I’m a Goldilocks testing the different spots, a quest for what factors make just right. I move to where the weather suits my lack of clothes.

I’m reminded of my desert porch in Tortolita.

The wind would come through the mountain pass like a Bernoulli’s tube. I’d sit India style, naked on the soft couch on my porch, eyes closed and listen. My imagination and awareness would tell me about each burst of wind. Just like this, one may come along the hill to the right, or one across the trees to the left. Another might act as a guest traveling up my driveway from next door, on to my porch and hug me all over, where I sit. Then it might begin mussing my hair, like an affectionate teasing old pal.

I would sit still and calm my mind, increasingly quieting. The wind would distract the thoughts and I’d simply be in this moment, focused.

Eventually, eyes would open to see everything differently. Just as it is, what is, no projections, no words.  For example, there is no “saguaro,” no color, no descriptions, or labels. There is only the observer and that. This is what our sojourn is about. There will be activity of intense awareness, calm, only here, in this forest. No bills, troubling news, projects, or habits. Just “now” or “being” practiced. It is a reset switch, shutting down a very busy life, a de-cluttering.

This morning, I’m already feeling a smile on the cheeks and love and peace.

Alternatives:

We haven’t unpacked, we still have options. Today, we take a walk to see if a thicker wind break would make better conditions. If camp was deeper in the forest, off of the open field, where the wind is not stopped, what would happen? Would it be hot, cool, feel less expansive, limit our experiences? Would pesky bugs find us?

We feel with our bodies, paying attention to the heat, wind, shade and all sensations. Searching, exploring and noticing how it feels. Intrinsically, intuitively, we know how we feel in each spot. We sense comfort and vibe. We imagined ourselves living there. Only then, we look for rocks, roots and places to pitch a tent. The list includes a parking for the truck with its kitchen and securing supplies.

We could only know these places well enough and search by being naked. To be aware of the intricacies. I pray to be led and let go.

Walking straight into the forest, it gets thick quickly, as it slopes down a hill off of the dome, the field of volcanic rock and grass. We have no concerns of being lost. There is a road to meet eventually. The debris gets thicker, a lush carpet of pine needles, grasses and compost. Dead trees crisscross to climb over, walk on, walk around and admire. The wind dies down, but it is not quieter up above.

The road appears. We walk along, going bit by bit, a little further, just to see what is beyond the next bend. We stop at clear rings amongst trees. There can be winds here, too. Huge trees have fallen. The soil gets soggy from the snow and rain and like an umbrella in the winds, the weakened root ball gets ripped out, until the tree’s own weight takes over. I can only imagine the crashing sound from the disturbances.

We walk until we find an obstruction in the road too big to move the truck over.

Nude people definitely feel things that a clothed person cannot. There are gifts for life and survival that we experience in this natural way. There is also a peace, a present consciousness. A body knows what is important at any given moment. Some things, you just know.

Like Carlos Castaneda looking for “his place” as Don Juan instructed, the road returns us to our original camp. It feels right and we’re tired.

We had found wind down there, wind sound in the trees, and less celestial viewing.

We’re lucky to be here. We’re blessed. We’re “home.”

We will pitch the tent, rather than pack up the 3-D jigsaw puzzle of belongings that fits into the SUV.

“Let’s eat!”

“…Give me happiness in a smile, and nothing of certainty but the way we make each other feel. There is so much life in living while you’re alive & I’d give absolutely anything to have it all with you.” I don’t know who Nikki Rowe is. It’s her quote from a website: https://psyne.co.

I am on the forum of FreeRangeNaturism.com often, if you would like to converse.

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