“From the other direction she was calling my eye, it could be an illusion, but I might as well try,”
“Once in a while you get shown the light in the strangest of places, if you look at right.”
Scarlet Begonias, The Dead
A hint of autumn is in the morning air, in the bushes and trees as they change to yellow and red, and in my heart as I prepare for my annual pilgrimage to Yosemite Valley, California.
|El Capitan on the left, and Bridalveil Falls on the right.|
Today is September 11th, a date which meaning needs no explanation, one that changed our country and the world forever. It is an ideal date for reflection, though my reflection is no doubt lighter than a lot of peoples who lost loved ones in the terrible terrorist attacks that day in 2001.
My reflection leans toward summer days. I had an uplifting summer, an engaged one where I lived out some dreams. My summer dreams were lived out in the form of dancing and failing on rock, floating down our mostly, mellow river that winds through our rocky mountain town, and the soft touch of another human that we all need and desire. (The manual labor and various odd jobs I did to have the time for my dreams is another story.)
Any dream needs another person to help us achieve it, at least my dreams. I dream to climb El Capitan in Yosemite, but would never even dare try this on my own, some might, but my nature is social and not solitary, though the nature of a writer is solitary. My dreams of rock climbing are ones where I hope to transcend. The world of climbing is one where we can fool ourselves that the world is perfect, and our only purpose in life is to get to that next pitch, the next ledge, perch. Life is measured in feet, and the problems of the world fall away from the consciousness. Life is vertical, not horizontal. By balancing up a rock face immortality and limits are felt, but at the same time we reach higher in the ceiling of limits.
|photo of Jonathan "Badger" by www.bradengunem.com|
I’ve always dreamed of climbing higher and harder since the birth of my passion for rock climbing. When the ego gets in the way this dream can seem superficial, when the ego is channeled and quieted, the dreams seems more pure, leading to a great connection with the outdoor world, which is, in reality, the only world we are a part of. When you die you’re going to the spirit in the sky.
I’ve always dreamed of women, and I am incomplete without the presence of one. To touch a woman is to access nature, spirit and sex in one beautiful moment. I only hope to stretch these moments together, to find one that is as right for me as I am for her. In this search, experimentation, patience and a willingness to leave my comfort zone is essential. I feel as delicate as a woman during my search. I wonder if all men are as sensitive as I am, or if I am merely more in touch with this side? Touch, breathing, kissing, loving, transcending into the warm, summer night. Loving is the ultimate timeless act, that remains so similar today as it was a million years ago. There’s no app to make it better, no technology to use to enhance it. I am naked to my essence to please her, as she is to me. And in this state of vulnerability I can either feel unsatisfied and frustrated, or complete and validated for all these days of living. Summer days, lead to summer nights, then to changing leaves, cooling night, a desire for home, a desire to have someone to cuddle up next to, to keep warm with for the colder days ahead.
Intimate moments, whether in nature, or with the true nature that is sexuality, reveal truths. I’m always surprised to learn my truths, because I also believe it is our nature to fool ourselves and believe we are something more than what we are. I sometimes believe I am this evolved person, when in reality I am just a child in the grand and strange universe that I inhabit. Wanting to love and be loved, and discover and rediscover what I love.