Metaphysic Storm

I went to the Tickfaw (wild beast shed hair here) state park yesterday. I rented a canoe for twenty Bucks and launched myself into the blissful wilderness. A slide show can be viewed here. Most of my occupancy at New Orleans has been in the heart of the city, specifically, Uptown, The French Quarter and The Faubourg Marigny. I haven’t had a car on the road for, well, never any consecutive yearly amount of time to speak of. The city has become my home and is one of my best friends. Fortunately for the wilderness, I’m not currently contributing my car’s drippings to the drainage system. But not having consistent car access does limit my opportunities to visit the wilderness. An OK catch 22. I like people and New Orleans has plenty.

The more time that passes the more I embrace the identity, Naturalist. Primarily I’ve assumed it because it’s a positive way to reject religion and head-up-their-ass New Agers. Naturalism is the conviction that only matter and energy did, does and will exist and other than choice, cause and effect are omnipresent. It’s the opposite of Supernaturalism, an identity that most who embrace, don’t even know they are. Supernaturalism is the essential element in all religions and witchcraft because without it, the belief in consciousness after-death, self reincarnation, The holy spirit and magic are null and void. They all require ectoplasm of some sort. Most people that hear “Naturalist” think of a person who worships the wilderness or enjoys designated areas where nudity is acceptable. I’m not a nudist, though I do enjoy a good skinny dip in the ocean night. But when I think of “who I am”, my cloths do not come to mind. And although I don’t worship the wilderness, I do have a strong attraction to her. The really odd quality about my mind is that I “behave” like a religious new ager, but despise the true form of both. I’m a religiousish worshipless new aging Naturalist.

I spoke with my Ex-wife Sinthia yesterday and found that she’s in a stranger place than I. She added an ad to Craig’s list looking for a friend. She lives in a village just outside San Francisco with a population of 60 thousand. She feels alone. She feels like it’s impossible to meet people in an area that 5 thousand years ago would have relatively been a Shangtoklondpariyorkanglemex. The Naturalist sniffs and declares something is horribly wrong. Statistically speaking humans are more alike than unlike. In fact we are so much more alike than unlike, the thought that we have to filter through a few million people to find a compatible friend is boggling, more than boggling, disturbing. I blame The peoples remote and the unrealistic dream world (applause light flashing) of Friends. Many moons ago, Sin and I recognized a unique quality I possess. That even though I don’t have frequent friend interaction, I never have felt a lack of friends. I’m not a loner, mind you.

Five million two hundred forty five thousand two hundred and sixteen minutes ago I went on a three day water fast in Albuquerque. In direct opposition of reason, I strapped a sleeping bag to my back and hiked a couple thousand feet up the Sandia mountains. In the morning I kept climbing until I reached a peak where the city was isolated from view. I hit Walter (who comes up with these names?) and started to focus on my deep breaths. In about a blissful minute I looked out at the beautiful seen and felt that nature some how was aware of my presence. Now don’t call me crazy, I don’t mean that there was some “nature brain” out their registering me, but rather the vista and I were intimately connected. It was as if it and I were interdependent in our existence. Had I not been there the photons that were bouncing off of each piece of sand and shrub would have been absorbed into some other piece of sand or shrub and eventually turned into heat. Instead, that energy entered my body and was registered in my mind. It “gave” itself to me and I said, “Hello, I think you’re sexy and this is a great dance”. Then I ate a power bar to keep from passing out and went back to turning the cogs generating bread.

Paddling the canoe through the Tickfaw river I had a similar sensation. Except for my vessel, I felt totally removed from the conscious world, but with a strange sense that I was among an ancient friend, pure Wild Nature. She doesn’t hide anything. If something’s bothering her, she lets the observant know. She’s a strait up girl and doesn’t give a shit about those who disrespect her. She can and will bite back. As I paddled my canoe up river I couldn’t help but think of what it was like a half millenia ago. This was shattered by the occasional run in with a distant buzz of a lawn mower, jet liner and a non fishy oil slick. Paddling past a tipped three wheeler, folding chairs and “posted” sign, I felt like I was viewing a human zoo. Certainly I’m not suggesting that Humans need to flee the wilderness completely. It just seems odd that in a country as big as ours, with a relatively modest population, a person has a difficult time escaping civilizations foot print.

I paddled past a school of funny air breathing swimmers. I don’t know what they were but I suspect many of them are going to be dead soon. Best-friend, Nature, is going to feed off the weak. I looked back at the people behind the bars of excess and wondered why, with the incredible intelligence we posses, do we make more offspring than Best-friend Nature can handle. Someone’s gonna get hurt. On my way back to the Canoe launch it started to thunder and rain. I took my shirt off and enjoyed the feeling of being a Native in a beautiful land. I marveled at the lighting while holding an aluminum paddle.