Sound And The Messenger
Hello and welcome. Creativity shows itself in a myriad of different ways for me. I intend to get out of my comfort zone on this page, be vulnerable, share truth, seek truth and look to help the world through these facets.
The Story Of The Back
Fall has fallen onto Colorado. It's increasingly become one of my favorite seasons as I've continued to live out life on Earth during this changing time. That being said, It definitely does not mean that the season does not pose its own challenges as each season does. Quite the contrary occurs in fact. For the past six years of my life I've spent my time either changing and evolving as a musician and songwriter, but also doing the same as a massage therapist. How I came into both vocations is a subject for another article, but for this occasion I'd like to speak about my journey with the lower back. For whatever reason, I've always had a tight lower back. From an early age it's been something that has been part of my life. It's followed me in my sports career early on in high school as I navigated different endurance sports. It's followed me to Japan when I went to live there to teach English and it is with me now. It's a teacher, although I haven't always regarded it as such. In the past it was an ailment, a weakness. Slowly however, I'm learning to see the blessing that this "ailment" has provided me with. Autumn just happens to be the time when my lower back reminds me that it's still there and what it has done for me.
In the morning it's easy to immediately become stressed. That happened to me this morning. One of the first recommendations that I deem one should not do upon waking up is to check their email. On this particular morning I did just that and three emails down was a bill. My mind went immediately into lack of gratitude. In that moment the cycle of anxiety started. Thoughts came up such as "How am I supposed to pay for that?" "I thought I already paid" etc.. At that moment some voice of my higher self came in however, and saved the day. It seemed to shout out that "This was not the way to start the day" and I begrudgingly had to agree. It was then that I started my morning routine. From that came the motivation to produce this article that I hope you will find and use or customize to fit your own flow. I do have to say though that flow is recommended, although it is often found in personal lessons that come in different ways depending on the day and how it works.
A Garden Plot
FROM SPA TO FARM So I'm thumbing through the pages of a spa magazine between massages. It's a typical Sunday in Aspen, Colorado at O2 Aspen. Lately, I had come upon a new artist named Edgar Allen Isokov. I don't really know how I came upon his music, but lately it has inspired me. I found him late one evening a couple months back as I'm hunkered in my room and the darkness outside is making me feel the Colorado winter blues that can occasionally present themselves between skiing on occasion. His song "San Louis" comes up on my Youtube feed. I click the link and immediately the anxiety is lifted. He instantly became a big inspiration after that and a cover that my band had to learn. Rewind back to the spa and as I'm flipping through the pages I come upon his picture in the spa magazine! The article will soon reveal to me that the artist is in between touring is and has been an organic farmer for many years and now practices his green thumb for about four months of the year between tours. The article goes onto interview him and I take away that his music has been very much influenced by the soil and the growth of all things plant like. Later that year I would discover the band "Khrungbing" and find how their music is influenced by cows, but that's another story for another time, although life progression would have it that my grandma is currently moving out to Texas with a lot of my Dad's side of the family to live on a farm there. It's then that the wheels in my mind start turning as I've learned that coincidences are equivocally always miracles.
Stove At Night
When I slowly made my way to her and our lips touched I could feel ages mix with ages and years mix with years. Past love making sessions, past lives, past sounds. It all seemed to be there. Her moans and gasps and her soft breathe through pursed lips. The lips I now brushed with my own. She smiled, but then her smile disappeared as I felt my tightness that just happened to perfectly slide up her slit.. before pulsing vertical against her soft belly as we faced each other. Chance had left us in the darkening evening both in light outerwear and barely there, but there. That action made our kiss deeper and our brains tickle each other and our eyes make love with one another as we both pulled away and stared into the moment. The stare was one of presence, but also the yearning, the desire to feel our hearts beat down there when we were deep in each other. You could do that we had found out without words, holding stillness, eyes gridlocked struggling not to move yet basking in the delicious agony of pause. Yet, that was not yet and her eyes were not yet far away, but darker mounds, with gentle eyelashes that put an accent to her already feminine features. It felt good to kiss them, feeling their own unique texture and the warmth of her breathe on my chin, which she decided to kiss as it was conveniently located perhaps. Then our lips found each other again. Everything was light, brushes of moments that were yet to come, making our breathes know each of our anticipations. It's then that I turned her around so that she was in front of the stove and the burners we had already turned on and the water was boiling..."So here's the rules" I whispered, to which she nodded and made her sweet smelling hair and sway of her hips let me know that she was in front of me. The cold floor against our feet felt nice by a warming stove, the soft silk of our clothing being the separation barrier of me pressed up against her warm lower back. She seemed to sense this observation of mine as right then she traced up my calf with her foot and smiled..."So what's the rules you tease".. "alright" I poured the potato starch into the pot and it splashed a little as it hit the water. "The deal is we're not allowed to start until this is ready and we both have to take turns stirring." The heat increased on the stove and I started stirring, the rhythmic clang of a spoon hitting the bottom of the pot in a circular motion, being the only sound as we waited for the liquid to become thicker and slicker. She then took over as I kissed the back of her ears and tasted her a little below. She gasped when I did this, making my other hand want to reach around and find her lower, but not yet, we weren't ready. Slowly and then faster the liquid became thicker until I flicked the stove off.. "Now we need to wait for it to cool down" I said and kissed her. I could tell how wet she was by the wetness of her mouth.. or was it her tongue.. or was it her breath or was it her soft coos or was it her wandering hands brushing up my upper thigh soft, gentle, torture. I wonder if we both heard the clock making its ticking sound in the otherwise empty kitchen, or did we hear the refrigerator click on and start its cooling cycle? Moments passed either way, the last light of the day slowly disappearing, accelerating the cooling mixture in the pot... "Do you think it's ready?" she half gasped and teasingly made out through separated lips and between kisses.. hand growing nearer and higher on my leg.. "Alright let's check"... The mixture was cooled, but slightly warm. It was time I concluded. with a now wet, slightly warm, slick finger I found her little slit beneath the silk and traced a wet line up her and she impatiently reached in and found me and there was her soft touch circling my top that let me know we had to find something soft to lay on. "How do you hold a moment"? Perhaps both of us were thinking. This thought trailed on as we both found the soft bed. It felt good that both of our clothes were still on. Torture felt good somehow. I thought of moments away from her and the feeling of what the last touch had felt like and how it had already passed and the happenstance of that, the quality of that, the progression as everything weaved onwards, like the clock ticking in the room we were just in. It was then that I didn't notice an adjustment to my pants and a slight shift of her weight and her mouth dipped around me and I could only play with her soft hair and run my hands down her back as everything was immersed in slow building warmth. Her tongue swirled around my tip with her lips still holding on, looking to pull what it wanted. I thought of that drive thru carwash in town with the brushes rolling up against the side of a vehicle, plunged into coolness and calm and washed and relaxed, mind instantly into silence. This thought came as I played with her hair and I found her small ears peaking through. Enough was enough though. I wanted to taste her now. I found her head with both my hands and reached into to feel her lips and mouth again, only wetter because of her play time session now. Again she could probably feel me pressed against the soft of her belly as she started moving her hips and I did too as I laid on top of her, continuing to play with her hair, play with her lips with mine. Her soft breasts pressed softly too into my chest. There's no deeper moment that I realize she's a woman than in that pause of time. Just a little down and then up and then I think I'd be in, deep in her, what both of us wants. Her breathe is quicker, her hands massaging my lower back, her hips trying to beckon me lower and almost succeeding, the last of our silk clothing couldn't prevent that, both of us know. It's too loose and open. She's trying to inch up the bed to give me soft entry. She pulls the bed post with both hands to pull her up. Her eyes are now deep and black and far away. I lift off her and and find her soft mound with my tongue right before she would've found me. Gosh I love her taste. "Baby you are so wet" I say as I lick up her again. One hand feels her stomach rising and falling deeper.. "umhmmm" she makes out in her reply. We're both getting lost. I love the little dot at the top of her that sticks out now, peeking out of her folds. Flicking my tongue over that or digging deep in, I can 't decide what I like most. Perhaps a finger feeling in, while flicking too. It's sending her over the edge. It's then that she reaches her hips up and her gasps let me know I'm ready too. Climbing up on her once again her hands soon have my pants off and her touching, light hands grasped around, pumping me, wanting, circling my head again with soft nails. Her kiss I find again and I find her lower too as she eases the grip of her hands as she'll grip in a different way soon. "Gosh I love tracing my head up and down you baby".. there's just a head nod from her and a soft moan as I glide up and down the edge of her opening and then there's a push and we're in deep. Her eyes flutter black, her hips trying to suck what she wants immediately, me moving slowly trying to slow everything down, my hands behind her head, guiding myself in, feeling her breathe on my cheeks when we aren't playing with each others lips. Both of us are lost in our sex.
We Have A Busy Mind
Go ahead and close your eyes. Yes, close them and take some breathes in and out. When you're breathing in you're energizing the body and when you breathe out you relax the body and with each breath relax more and more. Now as you're taking breathes what happens? For me what happens is it gives me a magnifying glass of all my thoughts. A girl and deep good friend in Australia once was laying on a pool deck some years ago by a pool, looking out at the sea and exclaimed "There's a lot going on in the world, but there's more happening in my mind." I don't think she's alone. We all have this I do believe. That's what happens to me the moment I close my eyes. There's all these thoughts happening in there. Okay now open your eyes and now seek to be focused. Get onto here for instance and try to write some words down. Can you do it? Likely you can't as your mind wants to be busy. It's struggling for satisfaction. It may persist saying "Perhaps if I get on this video channel and listen to someone else's video this will quench my satisfaction." or often it views the first part of focus as.. "step one... open the refrigerator". Yes I've been there too many times. Our mind is busy and also it wants to be busy. We want instant gratification. We want sex now! We want food now! We want money now! We never have enough and if we have enough we're clutching onto it and hoping some wind doesn't come that blows it all away. Meditation as it turns out isn't really about quieting the mind, but more so, seeing the mind and by seeing I mean wondering where thoughts come from.
The idea for this video started out at around two am on a Friday morning. I did this thing about five months ago where I found this book called "The Five AM Club" by Robin Sharma. I read it through cover to cover or screen to screen because it was really a clicking process rather than me flipping through the pages. In 48 hours it was finished. It was a binge read and then I was inspired to try it and I did it for 90 days straight. I found it was actually easier to get up at 4am most mornings and even one morning I found myself rising at 3am, which was a mistake I think, but at the end I did it. If there was a pencil and piece of paper and box drawn on that piece of paper where I could fill in a check mark I would've done so. There I was at ninety days, feeling accomplished and then my back went out. I think that coincided with a relationship breakup. It wasn't the reaction I was expecting, but as they say "everybody's painting a different picture" aren't they? Where one person might've viewed the sum of the equation as weakness, I saw it as transition, but in fact it was quite a lengthy transition. Most of the winter season I was supposed to be teaching skiing, but instead I grew to be just flexible enough to give massage to other backs, all the while wearing a back brace. I was very blessed to be working with some extremely talented therapists and so work was workable, the giving was full and the season of working another winter in Colorado passed with the majority of my time being spent either massaging, hanging out with cheery co-workers or playing music. I couldn't ski, but at least I could play guitar with my band mates, which was lovely! Music was made in the late hours usually, so I did say goodbye to that possibility of rising at 5am though. Was it a set back? "perspective my dear Watson" I'd have to say. Possibly, the creative edge was calling as supposed to the sharpened edges of my ski equipment? Only time will tell. Towards early spring I was getting back to my athletic self and was able to skin up mountains again. It felt good, but then the situation changed yet again and the world was put in time out. The meditations have been deep, the guitar has been a constant friend and creativity has been at an all time high.
You Live Your Dreams
Just recently I was privileged enough to work for the Aspen Skiing Company up in Snow-mass, and one of my coworkers would constantly reply "You live your dreams" to customers that would ask if they could ski a certain way or be a certain way. It was extremely catchy, and I came away wanting to use the phrase myself, and now I'm using it quite frequently with this kids camp that I'm working at over the summer. Yet, I feel there's a deeper lesson here—and one for adults. So often we're looking for our path, and our purpose, and what we're supposed to do in this life. What is the best way that we can help the world, and thus feel the most fulfilled. My good friend and mentor Cynthia Clark recently interviewed life coach Caryn McCurry in her podcast Life Is In Your Hands. In the episode Caryn goes on to explain that one of the main ways to discover your life's purpose and thus ease with success is to dig deep into what brought joy into your life as a child. I encourage everyone to follow this podcast as there is a lot of helpful tidbits, but this one point made a lot of sense to me. It tells us to dig in, and live our wild dreams.
There is the phrase that explains that failure is only good if you learn from your mistakes. To this I must disagree. Failure is good if you get up again. There is no way to not learn something from failure. We have this false illusion that we are in control. Therefore it can actually put you into a worse state if you follow the first way of looking at failure. I can see you sitting there pondering whether... "Did I learn from my mistake this time"? There then comes the battle with your ego and you regret that you did or didn't do something. I know what this is like as I've been there. Thankfully, there is no way not to learn something from failure. My good friend Paul recently opened my eyes to this even more. He has recently thrown in the towel on his business. Over the past few years he started his own company making creative marshmallows and crafting them after the wonderful experience of having S'mores when camping. His company was called Stuff'n Mallows. He told me that when he was interviewed by large companies, the first thing they wanted to know was how many times the entrepreneur had failed. This life is a process of getting up and climbing another mountain. I really go back to the bubble analogy. When I was a child I would sit there and examine bubbles. I would look at them and try to determine when they would pop. I would look into their creamy outline and see the colors swish around. What I noticed was that when the surface became perfectly clear that was the moment in which they popped. Only when they were void of color did this happen. I think in many ways this is a metaphor for life. We're always climbing another mountain in the motivation and delight of becoming a little more pure. Awakening happens when our bubble pops. Struggles will still occur, mountains will still have to be climbed, but our perspective on how we view the next path will not be centered around effort. In this form, the life process becomes effortless. Perhaps we're all bubbles. You could say that we're "slow dancing in a burning room" as John Mayer has told us. It puts a romantic edge to the process of life, but I'm going with bubbles today. So go examine a bubble for yourself. Let me know what you think. Color is the spice of life itself. It can tell so much about us. Sound is color, I feel. It's that realization that the presence of those difficulties and hoops and swings is what makes the juice worth the squeeze. I'm imagining watermelon juice, but you can choose lemon or orange if you so desire. The world is your oyster.