Saturday, November 30, 2013

An example how establishment medicine/AMA dictate our 'health' nee death!

30b1113 BLOK

30b1113 BLOK
Lemon yogurt sweetened with stevia
A poison
With my thoughts!
How willingly we are seduced!
A human weakness,
'The pleasure, pain so great,
Beyond rate!'
Oh, that is our 'sentence'...
'Until death do us part!'

H.

30a1113 BLOK

30a1113 BLOK
What I notice reading American novels, and watching Hollywood movies is all the trauma, angst, neuroses, addiction, disharmony, and violence!
You living there take it as 'normal!'  But, it is a symptom of a serious pathology caused by what WE have created.  Born out of Capitalism, an 'illness,' that is terminal if we don't change:  Materialism rather than Spiritualism, where money has become God!  This is a dislocation from our source:  Nature and/or Mother Earth!
We're at a crossroad!  One sign, pointing one way reads, 'LIFE!'  The other reads, DEATH!  WE CHOSE!
The fault is not with the other person, Party, country, or organization;  the projection of evil onto the other.  BUT THE FAULT IS WITH US, EACH AND EVERY ONE OF US (you and me)!  If we can't overcome this 'projection,' (onto the Other) and look within, rather than without, the human race is doomed.  If we can't evolve to a higher consciousness we will become extinct having never been here!
LET US START TAKING RESPONSIBILITY FOR WHAT WE HAVE CREATED:  A MOUNTAIN OF 'SHIT!'

H. 

301113 BLOK / T.T.

301113 BLOK / T.T.
Life, consciousness, is one of God's experiments!
There are three 'realities' the three 'Ds.'
1.  Duality
2.  Dreams
3.  Death
But, these are only English wor(l)ds.

Tantric Taoism

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Friday, November 29, 2013

291113 BLOK

291113 BLOK
From J. Rumi
THE AUTHENTIC HUMAN BEING
The human being who shuns God is not human at all!  This person tried to understand God rationally.  If he or she were to understand God, then that would not be God!
The authentic human being is one that continues to strive for God, not caring to understand.
God is something that consumes humanity and makes it 'nothing!' 
No reason can understand God!

from 'Table Talk'

271113 BLOK

271113 BLOK
A Bolivian man, a new friend, whose restaurant we support in Cochabamba, CAFFEINA, asked me, 'Do you ever rest?'  I replied, 'Probably not enough, but I still want to accomplish some things.  I'm not really retired at 74-years of age!'

H.

261113 BLOK

261113 BLOK
ENANTIODROMIA
Always it is the worst,
Before the best.
Always the best,
Before the worst!
Always!
This is 
ENANTIODROMIA!
P.S.
We live in a dual world always moving to 
the
extrrrrrreeeeeeeemmmmmmmeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee,
the limit, and the then pendulum of the 'clock,'
tick, tock!

251113 BLOK

251113 BLOK
How strange life can be, doing what we think we must--the ego alive and well, but why and for what?
The morning sun so hot, I cannot 'sea,'  
The afternoon clouds so cool, I drool!
I clean the mouse shit from the stove.  
I need to drink more water,
But, I can't seem 'two!'

H.

231113 BLOK

231113 BLOK
AND THEN, THE NEXT 'WON!'
So tired,
Beyond tired
Dead on my 'fiets!'
Cranking,
Ranking,
Sitting in bed.
The pain, the gain
Standing in the rain!
My life, the book,
I shout in my mind,
Entitled, THE GRIND!
Or, possible something else?
Please answer this question!
And then, the next 'won!'

H.

211113 BLOK

211113 BLOK
IT ISN'T!
When old
You start leaking,
Creaking,
The body dying.
You fight it
Not going into 'that goodnight' gently,
When maybe we should
Let go,
Resting, testing
The Other
To feel it 'their,'
And lay bare
A life of learning,
The good and the bad,
And always so sad,
Until,
It isn't!

H. 

Friday, November 22, 2013

THE CHRISTMAS SEASON

THE CHRISTMAS SEASON
Rucha (Rotraut Boyens),
You're a 'feeler,' an emotional person, so you might understand--how the Season affects me.
I feel so much, I can't feel at all as if I did, if I started, it would be so painful I'd blow my brains out with a gun!  That's how I can be a poet, as it all comes out on paper the ink, tears I can't shed or I'd drown in the ocean they'd create.  
And Christmas time dangerous to me for I start remembering, feeling, lying on my straw mattress in Cochabamba, Bolivia.
I suppose this little message launched today thinking about my dear old friend James B. Feeney whose bicycle helmet I wear, and who helped me up the hill earlier today (after I asked him to).  You see we're both Irish and love to us is something that goes beyond the grave (he died something like 30 years ago, although I don't remember exactly).  Yet, he's as alive to me as you are!
Anyway, once in awhile I have to reveal to someone I trust (and you are that person) who I really am,
WE!
Love, Alexander
P.S.  "Christmas is coming the goose is getting fat, please put a penny in the old man's hat!  If you can't afford a penny, then a half-penny will do, if you haven't got a half-penny, then God bless you!
Since I have claimed to be a poet, I include this, written in the same breath:
 IT ISN'T!
When old
You start leaking,
Creaking,
The body dying!
You fight it,
Not going into that 'goodnight gently,'
When maybe we should
Let go,
Resting, testing
The Other
To feel it 'their,'
And lay bare
A life of learning
The good and the bad,
And always so sad,
Until
It isn't!

Thursday, November 21, 2013

Clever, practical idea. The Dutch, smarter that us Americanos!

Wednesday, November 20, 2013

201113 BLOK


201113 BLOK
WHAT A DAY, YESTERDAY (19 NOVEMBER 2013)!
We, Edgar and I, had a very productive day, things just fell together perfectly, meeting people, solving problems, etc.  Obviously, there had been some kind of cosmic energy change.  For example, when we thought we were late, or couldn't find someone or a location, we were directed to him, her, or it.  And our catered lunch, high-quality veggie food (including baked beans--unheard of in Cochabamba) turned out to be from 'heaven' (a woman named Carolina).  When we got frustrated, driving around the City, suddenly what we needed appeared.  At some point I told Edgar, 'We are magic today!' 
It all began with Edgar delivering our metal bicycle-shaped stand we had made for Caffeina (our coffee shop)--foto. included.  This was to be celebrated as we had paid the trabajador del metal 200Bs. / $30U.S. as a 'down payment,' only to have him disappear with our money (and no bicycle stand).  When Edgar did find him he threatened to go to the police. So, forever reason, the guy came through in the end, or I would have been ripped off again for another $30U.S.  We celebrated with breakfast and Jose's (best in Cochabamba) coffee!  Note, Jose an engineer by trade, worked in the U.S. for 16 years! 
I left Senor Fetes with Jose, and joined Edgar in his little van (3-cylinders burning propane gas--it barely makes it up Av. Los Robles hill where I live.). 
We then returned to Edgar's house in Quillacollo (Cochabamba's sister city) to pick up his written directions to where our catered lunch was waiting (at Carolina and Taison's house in Cochabamba).  But, oh Lord, what a hassle finding their house.  Note, most of the streets in the residential neighborhoods aren't marked, so how the hell do you find anything…?  Edgar must have stopped six times to ask people on the street or in stores, additionally calling Carolina as many times.  We were late but finally spotted Carolina outside her house looking for us.  I didn't really understand this 'deal,' picking up a catered lunch from a woman in a residential house, but it turned out as all good, like the day.  This special veggie lunch, for two, cost all of $4U.S.
Then we stopped at a Hipermart to purchase something to drink with lunch.  Just entering, Edgar ran into an old friend, an airline pilot.   The man had been trying to contact Edgar as wanted to invite him for a Christmas party (but had lost his tele. #).  Another example of how there's some other 'energy' involved in our mundane lives.
We then searched for a park where to eat our baked beans.  We settled for a park bench on Av. Beijing in the shade of a tree.  Note, this is near summer in Cochabamba, and getting warmer and warmer.  I think the temperature yesterday was something like 30C. or 86F.  But, we'd forgotten spoons or something to eat with… Luckily, and as we were 'magic' there just happened to be a store (tienda in Spanish) across the street and they had plastic forks.  So, we didn't need to eat with our hands as in Nepal.
Afterwards on to my used furniture store on Av. Beijing as looking for a metal cabinet for my kitchen.  As it turned out there was no metal cabinet for my kitchen.  But, Edgar knew of another used furniture store near where his friend Adrianna. 
We arrive just at the right moment, 2:30P.M., as just reopening the store after siesta (1230-230P.M. everyday in Cochabamba).  At first glance it looked too upscale for me with pianos and mountain bicycles.  But, then we learned why we were there, as we met Rodrigo, a thirty-something Boliviano, who speaks very good English.  Turns out he lives in Sweden with his girlfriend, and as an architect-industrial designer, and travels back and forth.  He's also the proprietor, among other endeavors, including downhill racing (the expensive bicycle we'd just examined).  When I discover a Jorge Borges book on his desk I became even more intrigued.  I mean you don't expect to find a young Bolivian male with a Swedish girlfriend, who designs and builds alternative housing (shows us fotos. on his iPad), operates a used furniture store (that supports 3 orphanages), and is a downhill cyclist!  I mean I was slightly amazed!  Spying a new Apple computer on his desk I asked if he knew of an Apple Reseller, or an Apple software engineer in Cochabamba (my old MacBook needs help).  He knew of a good one in Cochabamba, and wrote out the contact information on a piece of paper.  Another problem solved--I don't have to go to La Paz!   We vow to communicate, him having already sent me his email address via his iPad.  This is Bolivia?  Not the one I'd been living in for 9 months!  And guess what?  When expressing my interest in support orphanages, he tells us of 'a very good Canadian man' he works with named Taison!  Guess what?  This is Carolina's husband where we had just been to pick up our veggie lunch.  Now, you tell me, what are the odds?  We were floored!  In turn, I inform him I'm going to 'hook him up' with my friend Bjorn (a cyclist) in Stockholm.  We part, Edgar and I now realizing the potential we have to do some good in Cochabamba. 
With an hour to spare before our meeting with Roberto we return to Caffeina.
Roberto, a documentary video-maker, is going to introduce us to Gustavo, the BIG GUY, at Channel 11.  We have an idea for a 'talk show,' and are looking for collaboration.  Gotta to have a TV station, if going to produce a TV program.   But, finding Roberto's house, even with directions on a map, proves to be another challenge.  Same problem, no streets signs, so we have to stop numerous times to ask before finding it, way up in 'Stawberry-Land,' a biblioteca-hostel (library cum hang out) next door in a grove of Eucalypto trees. 
I remember saying to Edgar, 'My God, look at that house, right out of the Hollywood hills!'  Then the next thing I know Roberto appears at the gate.  We park and are ushered into a new, modern house designed by his architect wife.  His black cocker spaniel all excited with guests. Again, for the manyth-time  I'm jerked out of my pre-conceived notions about how a video-maker lives.  Obviously, Roberto's not a starving one as has the latest Sony camcorder ($3K U.S.), a new Apple computer  loaded with the latest editing software ('Final Cut Pro').
First, however, we sit at a table downstairs in a kitchen right out of 'House and Garden' magazine.  While he an Edgar talk in Spanish I observe how well the house is decorated, with art de objects, paintings and wooden floors that must have cost a fortune. I'm impressed, and maybe a little jealous, as 'Chez Hache,' pales in comparison (his house all level).  Note, I am the 'starving poet!' 
Roberto shows us some pottery from his latest documentary, about the Guarani people in far south Bolivia (bordering Argentina).  He also gives us copies of his work with the Guarani, documenting their 'primitive' lives entitled, TENTAYAPE, (meaning THE LAST HOUSE).  It's both a book and a DVD of his 52-minute video.  I'm impressed with the high quality, and even more so when I learn all of it produced in Cochabamba (not La Paz, as I had surmised). 
Upstairs, in his 'studio,' he shows us his library of videos going back some 35 years (on Umatic-3/4", Betacam, and now digital formats)… We watch snippets of his latest video, TENTAYAPE on his Apple computer.   I'm now truly impressed and suggest to him I'll produce a video about him.   
Out on his balcony, with a view of Cochabamba, we discuss my idea to produce a talk show hosted by Edgar and Beatrice; our meeting with his friend Gustavo at Channel 11.  We're to meet Gustavo on Friday at 1030 in the morning.  Mission accomplished.
This has been a productive day beyond expectations, meeting all the right people at the right time.  Confirmation:  the Gods are not crazy, but helpful!
We return to Caffeina where I'd left Senor Fetes in Jose's care.  But, on the way back, feeling exhausted, I ask Edgar if he will take us both back up the hill.  This is the first time I've succumbed to asking, not riding a bicycle but sitting in an automobile, and feeling a bit guilty about it.  But, strangely, riding around in an automobile all day, in polluted air, is more tiring to me, than riding a bicycle.  I probably would have survived cranking up Av. Los Robles hill, but getting lazy, I guess, in my old age!
Back at my computer at Chez Hache, the best of all news putting an extra shine on this productive day.  Johnny, in Chile, at my request, has worked out a deal with Jose to send my things to him in Chile.  Again, I thought all was lost like with the bicycle stand, but now hope that someday I'll get my Vaude luggage (left in Jose's care in Chile for more than one year now)!  I won't go into detail, although I've written about this before, this guy Jose, a Chilean man, I thought I could trust… Ugh!
I've learned one thing in my travels around the world.  You certainly can't expect other people, no matter how close or good, to take care of your things the way you would!  I lost some important personal things when I left them with Teija and Olle in Finlandia, and they are the most responsible people in the world. Go figure!
And 'go figure,' this exceptionally good day! We are obviously blessed!  I thank 'Cristo de Concordia,' on the hill I can see from my house--the tallest statue of Jesus Christ in the world!  I also thank my own, VAJRACHOD!
H. 
P.S.  Edgar thanked Osho, as has read and likes.  Remember the Bagwan in Oregon, Rasnesh?  To each his own!







Try multiplying 10 billion by 6 trillion and see what you get...

Tuesday, November 19, 2013

And yet another incident of violence, proving, at least to me, American's pathology (a very sick culture).

Yep, it ain't ever going to be like it was! Prepare!

Sunday, November 17, 2013

How can we deny the U.S. is a very sick Nation? A 12-year kills his teacher and then himself! Unbelievable!

Brilliant author that women should know about!

Saturday, November 16, 2013

161113 BLOK

161113 BLOK
Next to me at Capressa, my morning coffee is a new business that sells gourmet ice cream, gifts and stationery items (interesting combination).  But, this is typical of stores in developing countries as they have to sell items in more than one category to survive.
Additionally, in Bolivian everyone sells something because there are few jobs.  People walk the streets selling everything from fruits to blankets, to inserts for your shoes, to brooms and cleaning items.  If I were a millionaire, I'd be buying everything from everybody, just to help them!
This is the challenge for Bolivia, creating jobs.  Right now only the educated (computer skills and English) get good jobs in Bolivia.  Construction workers can find jobs, but this is brutal and dirty work for low pay.
Yet, every married woman is either pregnant, nursing, carrying or pulling a child along (and seemingly unhappy). I want to ask them… What will your child be doing in 20 years, as there are no jobs now?  Of course, they wouldn't understand!
It all has to do with consciousness and there's little in the world.  And thus little hope for harmony in a world where there's so much competition for resources.
We've trashed out Mother Earth and now looking to Mars or another 'exoplanet' to exploit nee trash out.
But, the solution is right here on earth, inside each and every one of us!  Look within, not without for harmony, and now before it's too late!
H.

P.S.  China just relaxed their one-child policy.  Why?  Not because they are benevolent towards married couples, but because their population is aging, and they're worried they won't have enough young bodies to exploit (military, etc.).  

Occupy Seattle member beats 16-year incumbent to City Council job | Reuters

Go, Native Americans, save us from ourselves!

Profit always dictates over people! This is what's wrong with Capitalism!

Friday, November 15, 2013

151113 BLOK

151113 BLOK (actually from 111113)
Rising moon, awakening,
An earthquake
Shaking my confidence!
Silently attacking, racking my brain,
Am I going down the drain?
First, exhausted,
Then can't sleep,
To weep,
For lack of 'noing!'
Shambala Demons from Kailas
Alas, so far, so near,
But, why?
The Kundalini moved,
Don't forget!
H.

P.S.  Existence is more multi-facited than you think.

14a1113 BLOK / T.T.

14a1113 BLOK / T.T.
We will disappear 
On the flight of wings,
A mystery to behold!
Are we 'hear' at all, or 
Just dreaming?
Am I a man dreaming
I'm a dreamer, or a 
Dreamer dreaming he's
A man?
Getting beyond words with words
Is the definition of irony, whatever that means?
So, hypnotize yourself, wherever that means?
Tantric Taoism

P.S.  Faith, is letting go and accepting things as they are.  This is non-action in action!  Power!

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141113 BLOK / T.T.

141113 BLOK / T.T.
Simply,
it's the 'I,' the Ego, the name(d) that's the problem in this dual world--unconsciousness!
The more you can identify with the Spirit the better!
Ease into 'shedding the body,' (your death), 
Why be shocked?
I AM THE SPIRIT!
I'm not my body!
I'm not my name!
I'm not the material!
I'm not the turf!
I'm not the surf!
I'm not the game!
I'm not the same!
I'm not the win!
I'm not the loss!
I'm not the toss!
I'm not the dream!
I'm not the team!
I'm not of earth!
I'm full of mirth!
I'm not the dough!
You'll say, Oh!
I'm not of sin!
I'm not your kin!
I'm not to work!
I'm not to play!
I'm not of the day,
Or, the 'knight,'
Nor everything in 'site!'
I wield no sword,
I'm of the Lord!
I'm not my name!
I'm not my body!
I AM THE SPIRIT!

Tantric Taoism 

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101113 BLOK

101113 BLOK
Sunday riding with Edgar and others...
I meet Edgar and Fernando at Plaza de Gaulle at 0900.  I was surprised to see them already there waiting for me (Bps are t.  There are two other cyclists, Edgar's friends, wanting to join us, but up ahead near Sacaba.  Additionally, Edgar asks that we wait 5 minutes to see if the Argentine-cyclist woman (we met at the big race finish) was would join us.  She said she was interested.  O.K. with me, but I knew she wouldn't.  Why?  When on a long cycling tour, the last thing you want when resting in a city, is a day ride.  After five minutes, we head out east on Highway #4, toward Sacaba, some 12KM.  But, the motor traffic in Bolivia, for a small country, astounding! 
Today's planned route takes us east, then south out of Sacaba and over a range of hills ('cerros' in Spanish) on a rock and dirt road. Then down and eventually running into the 'Old' highway to Santa Cruz, then turning west and back into Cochabamba.  Edgar says this is something like 60 to 70KMs.  Little did I know what I was getting into.  I hadn't done this kind of distance on a dirt road (with luggage), for three years (back in China).  At least the short, steep hills in N.Z., on asphalt roads. 
South of Sacaba, after struggling through a rock road (the worst in the world), I discover what might be a nice place for me to live, as seek seclusion.  We had stopped to rest, and this an old abandoned adobe structure, with trees, and at first glance seemed like some nice property (see fotos. at www.cyclingpeace.org).  But, no Internet here so rural, however, so no can do.  
My 'family' is all over the world, I'm not a 'local' kind of guy. 
We continue up on a dirt road… One of the group pointed the summit out, and a familiar view to me having climbed hundred of hills… But you think to yourself, wow, I have to cycle way up there?  And the top of these cerros is something like 3500mts. / 11.500ft. ASL., and we probably started at something like 3000mts. ASL.  Note, mi casa in Cochabamba is at 2800mts. / 9000ft. ASL.
By now the two younger men, are way ahead of us on mountain bikes with no luggage.  
Fernando, not feeling well (told Edgar he had forgotten to take a pill) has turned around and heading back to Cochabamba.  He's strong, but overweight, thus his 'power to weight ratio,' is low.  Plus, these guys think they can sit around for days, weeks, and then take on these kind of ride/challenge.  Edgar, the nice guy that he is stayed with me, or waited if I didn't show before too long.  
I was last of course, but stopping to take fotos., and pick up some pieces of wood ('madera' in Spanish).  Edgar was surprised when he saw me laden with pieces wood, but this kind of wood (cut with bark still for constructing something) hard to find), and I've been wanting.
In several places the grade was so steep, the rock-gravel so slippery, I had to push up.
Near the top there was a government road sign that read, '25KM maximum speed.'  I laughed to myself, as maybe I was going 3KM per hour. 
By the time we got to the first 'top,' a view point, we looked down at the lake , and a wide valley including Tarata, a village we'd cycled to one Sunday.
Mountain summits can be frustrating… You think you've reached the absolute top, when you discover there's more 'up.'  However, it became easier, the grade flatter, rolling, and we managed the second 'top,' and a lovely mountain valley with village.  Here we stopped for a longer rest and to eat a banana.  I also put some stevia under my tongue (energy).  Of course, drinking mucho agua importante tambien.  I took a foto. of a red (rojo) part of the valley that struck me as unusual (see in our GALLERY at www.cyclingpeace.org).
Down slightly through the valley, the village was large enough to have a Catholic (of course) church and a school.  Then up to the final 'top,' or #3!  I looked at my wrist watch and discovered it was 1P.M.  It had taken 4 hours from Cochabamba.  
We started down, and even though less arduous, down can be more challenging than up--for one thing your hands get tired of squeezing the brakes.  The road down was very slippery, rocky, and I kept hearing Edgar's squeaking brakes up ahead.  But, what a view of the valley.
It wasn't long before I felt something strange, a loss of control, the front tire had gone soft!  
I had made a mistake before departing.  Pumping up the tire the stem had broken off the Presta value (French, smaller, ideal for easy pump up with traveling hand pump), and I didn't change the tube then, thinking it would be O.K.  It wasn't.
Edgar being the kind of man he is (so lucky to have met him) did most of the work of swapping out the tube.
Down and down we went, and finally reaching the highway at about 2P.M. (1400 hours). 
I asked Edgar how far the restaurant was where we were to have lunch (set up by Beatrice Zegarra).  He informed me at the head of the lake, a ways, maybe 5-10KM. 
Onward we went the motor traffic whizzing past.  
Bolivianos ride bicycles, men for money-making reasons, boys for fun, but both locally. 
Down a ways, again loss of control as the same tire going soft AGAIN!  DAMN!  I consulted with Edgar, and we pumped up, hoping we could make the restaurant before having to swap out again.  Edgar, like any 'professional' rider carries a spare tube. 
We got to the La Fuente (turns out to be the name), operated by Beatrice's son-in-law, just in time (about 3P.M.). You cross a bridge and then down a dirt road about 1 KM.   It's the kind of place you take the family on Sunday, as there are things for children to do, like crank a paddle boat around a pond and jump up and down on a trampoline.  Lots of screaming!
We, having been, 'announced,' were treated like royalty, although all I wanted to do was rest.  Two women wanted pictures with us, as they think I'm special having cycled around the world!
The food was pescado (fish), and came on two plates, enough for a futbol player (no wonder there's so much obesity in Bolivia).  I discovered, via Edgar, El Inca cerversa (beer), and we drained two large bottles.  This, the best beer I've had in Bolivia.
After eating, and resting, we swapped out the tube, and were off by 5P.M., some 17KM to Cochabamba Centro--downhill but against the wind.
We ended up dodging this and that, swarms of everything (people, push carts, buses, cars, dogs, trucks, etc.) getting through La Cancha, the huge outdoor market.  La Cancha on Market days reminds me of China, as so many people!
At Plaza de Banderas (the International Flag park) we ran right into the crowd exiting the futbol stadium after a game. It was like swimming against the tide.  Here we parted as Edgar's house west in Quillacollo.
I managed to get up my Av. Los Robles hill, and pretty amazing considering what we'd exerted that day.  It was 7P.M., when I opened my gate, so happy to be home, ten hours on the road.  I didn't fall over, but had reached the limit for one day. 
Ten hours on a bicycle is getting to be too much for me, not so much because of energy, but because of my feet.  I guess I'm getting old!
H.

P.S.  I spent the next day, Monday (Lunes in Spanish) recovering!

081113 BLOK

081113 BLOK
I contemplate my life as now wondering, where did it all go?  So fast, as in the cliche!  Note, I'm still trying to live in the moment!
This, in the context of a declining U.S.A. (2013), vis a vis growing up in the afterglow of WWII, 'The Best Generation's' accomplishment of crushing Hitler's Germany (with Russia's help) and nuking Japan into surrender.  First, in the 1950s feeling omnipotent with everything possible, and then 'reality,' my 'initiation' into the real world (the Sixties)…
In my twenties I was like a pinball, bouncing off this and that, trying to 'succeed,' yet askew, a 'loose canon on the deck!'  Epiphanies came like lightening and thunder, until I came into my own much later, the 'me,' at sixty years of age!  You're never quite sure why you do things (when young), yet it has to do with the ego and unconscious desires, for only God knows why…
But by sixty years of age, with many 'layers of the onion peeled,' more grown, more developed, my onion skin now like an alligator's (too much sun), my digestive system 'talking to me,' daily, you reflect…   You know the end of your time is drawing neigh…
You observe the world much differently when older, yet people much the same.  I'm now, as a poet, looking through my 'microscope'  of years of experience.  I see all 'the cells,' dividing and multiplying, a cancer destroying Mother Earth.  You start to wonder why and what for…?  I sit and observe the birds who visit my patio (Alice's Restaurant) to dine.  Why and what for…?
Is there a grand design?  Are we a part of something, greater, maybe important or just a cosmic accident for no reason at all?
We're trapped in our bodies (Duality) and can't really know definitively as we're only one 'cancer cell' among billions.  It's the simple mind that can be happy, not seeking answers to the great questions.
I wonder sometimes why I've reached old age while others die young?  Is there a reason?
'What, after all, is reason, but a means to lead us along the paths of our desire?  We find hope where we can, and where we cannot, invent it.'  (THE LAST LIFE, by Claire Messud).
The only thing I remember thinking when I was younger and dumber is wanting a different kind of life (than I saw around me).  I needed to be different!  I wanted to experience as much as possible, the entire world!  I had a great longing to see and do, to really live not just go through the motions that culture seems to dictate.  Modern life is fucked in my opinion, it is the primitive that will inherit the earth.
Is there Free Will?  I think not.  Is the 'script' written and we're just 'players who struct and fret their hour upon the stage?  Out, out brief candle.'  I believe it's a collaboration between the known and the unknown.  Life in this Dual existence is all we know, but I think there's much more beyond these English wor(l)ds…
My life now on the cusp of 74 years (I count the Chinese way, from conception.) has to do with uniting with the Divine.  But, my 'Divine' maybe different than your 'Divine.'  I've been blessed, I know that, for all the pain of discovery.  Am I enlightened (whatever that is?)?  No.  But, I'm content to be where I am, on the road (still) to find out.  It's made all the difference!
I sit in the near-Equator sun (so potent) enjoying watching the birds, the clouds, and feeling the wind mingling with my thoughts.  I know I'm a part of it all!  This is the reward!
H.

P.S.  The Buddhists believe that when born, we're like a 'drop of Ocean water' thrown upon the shore.  When we die ('shed the body'), we return to become part of the 'Ocean' again. Why and what for?  To add to it, 'the experience of land.' 

061113 BLOK

061113 BLOK
What a day, the new moon rising to the occasion!  This, the most productive day living in Cochabamba since I arrived five months ago. 
Stephane arrived last night, and this French cyclist (who has stayed with me twice before) has already saved my tomato plants. I would clone this young man if I could (good parents).  He's so helpful, and such a good guy!  If I had a son, I'd want him to be like Stephane!
Of course, you end up judging, comparing house guests (mine all coming via www.warmshowers.org).  By in large, I've had mostly good guests (a dozen or more), but then there's good and then there's real good.  I think it has to do with parents, culture, and breeding, as my mother would say. Thoughtfulness, and caring for other people the key to life.  Some people understand, others didn't get the message.
I go off early to have breakfast and meet Roberto Alem, a video-maker, Teresa Rojo, my herbalist's, brother.   The meeting turns out to be one element in a near perfect day (finally).  
We sit outside in the Hotel Gran Cochabamba's terrace-patio, the sun at 0900 already making Edgar too warm.  We shift the table into the shade. Note, interesting that Bolivians hide (women under umbrellas) from the sun, while I seek it.   But, in all my travels I've never felt a sun so potent (no wonder they hide from it).  Note, I've never lived this close to the Equator either (17 degrees south).  Roberto doesn't partake of the buffet, which surprises me, something about fixing breakfast, and eating with his granddaughter.   We discuss our TV talk-show series.  Roberto suggests proposing the idea to his friend, Gustavo Rodriguez, the manager of local Channel 11.  I'm encouraged.  Roberto also suggests we delay our cycling trip to the Salar de Uyuni (alti-plano salt flats) until April (October weather), as it's the best month of the year to be there.  It's a very productive meeting, and we part new friends. 
I cycle on to Centro for some things I need, like a book to read from The Spitting Llama book-gear store.  They are the only place in Cochabamba that has an English library.  Mario, the proprietor, sells all kinds of cycling-trekking gear, backpacks, outdoor garments, tents, etc.. 
On Calle Equador I encounter another older cyclist wearing a bicycle helmet (only us serious cyclists wear in developing countries).  He engages me in English, so I stop, and we meet, his name Jorge.  He wants a fotograph (writing a book), and ultimately I want one of him.  Turns out he's cycled all over South America, and this is unusual for a Bolivian.  I learn he's the curator of a local museum, 'The Museo Martin Cardenas,' a collection of books and insects (maybe the books are about insects).  He draws directions and I tell him I'll definitely visit with Edgar.  Jorge, before we part, informs me of the big bicycle race ('Giacinti Lindera la Vuelta a Bolivia'), this stage arriving near at Plaza Colon this very day at 3P.M.  We make plans to meet there, I want to introduce him to Edgar. 
So, by noon I've connected to two good people, both Bolivians. 
I go on in search of a store where I can purchase contact lens.  They're all grouped together on Av. San Martin in Centro.  Note, such is how developing countries organize their retail outlets.  Same in China.  It does make shopping easier.  I suppose it was the first version of a shopping mall.  I find one, Optima Cientifica (Scientific Optics in English), but they don't have my prescription on hand (Spherical -1.00), but will order.  I'm to return in three days.  Note, six lens, Made in U.S.A., cost 320Bs. or $40U.S., that's $6.50U.S. each (with UV protection).  Note, what would this cost in the U.S.? 
I ride on to Plaza Colon to meet up Edgar and Jorge (finish of the big race nearby).  While waiting I have my boots shined.  Normally they might charge, 10Bs. or $1.25U.S., I give the guy 20Bs. or twice as much.  While I'm sitting in the chair, Edgar glides up to the nearby curb. 
At the same time we meet Igor a cyclist from San Paolo, Brazil.   He's riding from Cochabamba to San Paolo (3K KMs / 1,800 miles) and wants to know how he can keep from getting killed on the highways.  We give him all kinds of advice.
After a foto., and Igor departs, Edgar and I cycle over to the 'Meta,' (finish line).  I look for Jorge, but never find him. 
On the way we run into Stephane, my French cycling house guest (now good friend).  He's with an Argentine cyclist, a woman, who's cycling South America with her boyfriend.  We take fotos., of course, and get her contact information in Buenos Aries.  In one day I've met a cyclist from Brazil, and now Argentina. 
The big race has brought many cyclists together (one positive feature of such). And it's a big deal sponsored by a Bolivian bank, Banco Del Sol.  The policia and Militar out in force with barricades, and additionally, a stage, music and P.A. blaring.  Hype, hype and hype, young boys passing out Bolivian flags on one side the Bank Del Sol symbol on the flip side.  Nothing seems possible in the world without a commercial element (Ah, Capitalism).
We hear an excited P.A. announcer inform us (via Edgar) that the competitors have passed Tarata (40KM / 24 miles distance) and will be in Cochabamba shortly.  Hard to believe how fast these guys can cycle (although downhill from Tarata)!  I'm concerned, however, about the time as I have a 3:30 appointment with my dentist, Jhovanna.  Luckily, her office is not far away.  I decide to chance being late, and we wait at the barricade cameras poised.
But, it isn't long before the tell tale police motorcycles and support vehicles whiz past, the policia waving the media back!  I was lucky to get the winner crossing the 'Meta,' (see in the GALLERY at www.cyclingpeace.org), the first two are Bolivians.  Then I rush off to make my appointment to have two cavities filled. 
I'm on time, but Jhovanna (my dentist) doesn't appear until 4P.M, thirty minutes late.  This is typical in Bolivia, as 'late is on time.'  I'm concerned, however, as Edgar and I have an important meeting at 5P.M. with the Vice Mayor, a woman named Beatrice Zegarra--this about her bicycle program.  I ask Jhovanna if we can delay my appointment one day, and she agrees.  This is the upside to Bolivian culture as people more flexible.  By the way, Jhovanna, works with no assistant, so there's only two hands in my mouth rather than four. 
Off we crank to the principle Plaza (14 de Septiembre), not with a Spanish conquistador standing, sword drawn, on a plinth in the center, but a condor at the top!  Note, if I were Evo Morales (president of Bolivia), I'd have all conquistador and/or military statues torn down!  Beatrice Zegarra, has an office in the Municipal building on the north side of the Plaza.
I wait while Edgar goes to check on our appointment.  After maybe five minutes we are ushered past a room full of assistants and into a windowed office.  We meet Ms. Zegarra, a pert woman, with a stylist hair cut and dressed in a fashionable mauve colored suit.  She speaks to me in English.  
We're here because I read in the newspaper about a bicycle program she is promoting, one in which people would have to ride a bicycle one day a week (motor vehicles prevented in Centro).  I loved the idea and wanted to meet and support the project.  But, then it turns out differently (the media got it wrong, or the English translation wrong, etc.).  The program, one I'm familiar with is called, 'Hour Bike,' and I've included a foto.  This is popular in European cities, where bikes are available in multiply locations, and you rent by the hour (pay via a vending machine), then at a destination, you return.  They have this program in Santiago, Chile, as well.  I'm impressed Ms. Zegarra is trying to do this, in a culture obsessed with motor vehicles, and  of course, futbol!  ('Are you ready for the football?' No!)  
Ultimately, she wants me to supply her with bicycle sources 'Hecho en Chine,' which I'm happy to do--they're liable to purchase 100.  An assistant arrives with three glasses of 'jugo' (fruit juice) on a tray, the ambiance unusually professional.  When she finds out I live in 'Temporal Alto,' (the district) she explains that this is a very good area in which to buy, as the area developing.  More good news as I plan to see about buying the property where I live (in two years)!  We talk for at least one hour, and at the end she informs us, 'We're going to become fast friends.'  And something about 'cooking in each of our kitchens.'  I immediately think, probably not in my kitchen (with the mice), in the house that runs downhill.  But, still music to my ears!
When Edgar and I depart we kiss her on both cheeks, the standard parting in Bolivia (I think European in origin.).  Note, South America very much 'connected' to Europe.
Afterwards Edgar and I are 'cloud nine,' having accomplished meeting and developing a relationship with the #2 person in the Cochabamba City Government. It's been a tremendously productive day for us.  It's taken five months to get this far, but sometimes you work and work for a long time, and then in one day everything comes together.  This was such a day!
H.


Thursday, November 14, 2013

And yet another one, such now in epidemic proportion, almost every day!

3 shot outside Pittsburgh school

Philly.com - ‎4 hours ago‎
PITTSBURGH - A 16-year-old Pittsburgh student was charged Wednesday with shooting three others outside a school in retaliation for beating him in a drug-related robbery inside the school last month.

And yet another one...

Wednesday, November 13, 2013

He's not rich, just has money!

And yet another one...

More guns, more violence!

Tuesday, November 12, 2013

I think this great, and have new respect for Gaga!

Here are the real drug pushers, doctors!

U.S. pathology and we just ignore. Thus, it gets worse!

Not me, thank you!

Hollywood, money to blame, as many movies the theme is, 'Violence is the solution!'

Not only for pharmo. drugs, but for living!

Monday, November 11, 2013

Good for her!

And yet another one...

Sunday, November 10, 2013

Nature is pissed off at humanity! And there will be more, and more of this...

Thursday, November 07, 2013

And yet another one! When will people admit we're a very sick nation and need help?

Money is God, what would you expect?

Scandal, corruption, and dysfunction rampant in the U.S.

Chinese labor camp inmate tells of true horror of Halloween 'SOS' - CNN.com

Wednesday, November 06, 2013

Money is God, what would you expect?

Tuesday, November 05, 2013

Sure there is, diet and exercise!

The rush is on to inhabit, and trash out (exploit) another planet!

And now the SPACE RACE!

So much violence in the U.S. State of Colorado! Why?

Monday, November 04, 2013

The fewer the number of doctors, the healthier we will become!

Let's hope if there's 'life' on one of these planets, it's more evolved than us!

Sunday, November 03, 2013

A must read, about NSA snooping.

Who said, 'Without plagiarism there would be no culture.'

031113 BLOK T.T.

031113 BLOK T.T.
It's 'shedding the body' while still in Duality!

Tantric Taoism

Labels:

02a1013 BLOK T.T.

02a1013 BLOK T.T.
Orgasm!
Conception!
Birth!
Simultaneously,
The Guan Yin!

Tantric Taoism

Labels:

021013 BLOK

021013 BLOK
In a hotel for lunch, the ubiquitous screen invades my reverie!  
I watch a music video, pure crap!  
Crash, flash, and trash culture, modern life!  The ubiquitous scream!
Spare me!
A condor on a horse?
Of course!
'Condering' up the Andes,
Rising, sailing among the nubes.
So grand, but
Just don't stand,
Jump and shout!
A condor on a horse
Becomes you!
If you spend your time in front of a TV screen, you miss living!

H. 

Another one...

Friday, November 01, 2013

And yet another one...

31b1013 BLOK / T.T.

31b1013 BLOK / T.T.
Love and beauty are things you learn to recognize.  They are not universal concepts meaning, both are subjective.

Tantric Taoism

Labels:

31a1113 BLOK / T.T.

31a1113 BLOK / T.T.
Go happy!
Forget your woes,
We only have now,
The moment
You are alive,
Dead the next,
What did you know?

Tantric Taoism

Labels:

311013 BLOK / T.T.

311013 BLOK / T.T.
For us happiness, bliss is 
Vajrachod,
The Guan Yin!
Spiritual intercourse, Union with the Divine!
Supreme bliss, beyond Supreme Bliss!

Tantric Taoism 

Labels:

30b1013 BLOK

30b1013 BLOK Miercoles (Wednesday)
Two unusual things happened today.  One, the water-bottle people showed up, surprising me, of course.  We thought we'd lost them.  Edgar was out finding another company to deliver for me.  Note, the tap water here, which comes in a truck, and stored in a tank under my patio, isn't safe.  For drinking water we purchase 20 liter bottles for 12Bs., or $1.50U.S.  But, these have to be delivered, and I was two weeks behind as we had lost the company somehow.
Secondly, I had two teeth cavities filled by Jhovanna, my female dentist.  It was all completely painless, and only cost $20U.S.  In the U.S. this would be something like $100-200U.S. 
The medical system in the U.S. a complete conspiracy against the laity.  I think what the medical system pulls in every year rivals the U.S. military budget, the pharmo. companies worth billions!
At some point I stopped in to pick up Senor Fetes, who I'd left with Alvaro/La Bicicleta Aventura.  The rear derailleur not working after he'd tried to adjust it.  I'd noticed it was unable to reach the last fastest gear (smallest cogwheel).  He didn't want any dinero for his work, and when this happens, I try to buy something as a way to pay them.  BUT, $40U.S. GLOVES…?  No way, could I afford them.  Funny, I thought they were 40Bs, or $6U.S., but no, $40U.S. or 280Bs.  They last pair I paid something like 10Bs. (in Lima, Peru).  La Bicicleta on Av. Santa Cruz, is good but expensive. 
I managed to cycle up Av. Los Roebles hill, and straight up with no rest stops.  The derailleur slipped only once, so good going, Alvaro!  Av. Los Roebles is a 2KM in length 7-8% grade hill of which I live at the end of… Fast down, slow up, and every day.  But, I'm getting stronger for such and this day hardly out of breath when I reached my gate, although I was carrying no great weight.  Progress!  You just keep trying!

H.