Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, August 31st – September 2nd

My first week of the gypsy tour was daily near “I’m going to melt down moments.” Seven days and more. My test. My tour. My experience. There were so many edges, with two emotional choices or “doors” to choose from: A. secure, B. insecure. My choice, my choosing, my doing really. That’s Destiny defined; stepping up and taking Faith, my faith, and doing something with it.

I’m due back in Reno this coming weekend. It’s going to be tough or at least very different, odd, being out of the forests. I could do this much longer, this being with nature, with beauty. Considering, trying on a perspective of smallness, of gratitude, to beautify my gaze. A keeping with what should always be my first prayer: “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Five nights now in Olympic forests — rain, rain, rain. Deeper rain forest now, about an hour west of Port Angeles. Ranger talk this morning asking where closest public internet was, they said “You’re out in the country now. ” So I didn’t need to work today after all.

So here I am, at drippy damp Sol Duc Hot Springs and campground. Hot soaked last night, and again here soon (Tuesday evening).

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Rain forest hike today (Tuesday) through the forest of all good, goodness, good enough, good God, and God is good. My experience was revelation — as defined by O’Donohue, To give over to experience, soften, gentle, my gaze. Come from a place of smallness, gratitude.

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Today’s hike became a forgiveness hike. What came to me is that the practice of forgiveness is the hardest practice of all. I have missed the point that forgiveness is the way I heal. Forgiveness is about me understanding how and why someone is hurting, and how I am involved, my contribution, role, and my own hurts and confusion. Then, forgiveness is about figuring out best how to forgive and be compassion. Compassion is born from my woundedness; and woundedness refined is beauty. (O’Donohue p. 181).

My head over heels love of the forests is much about light. Again O’Donohue: “Light the greatest unnoticed force of transfiguration in the world: it literally alters everything it through colour dresses nature to delight, befriend, inspire, and shelter us.” p.82

Transfiguration.

Saturday morning, day of the McNabb hitching, I was walking, running, skipping, laughing, singing through a short loop hike near the forest service visitors’ center. It was the tail end of the evening’s rain and wind storm — the wild experience of rain forest winds. Boughs snap, rip, tear and tumble– cascading down through fifty feet and more of dense forest. Thousands on thousands of cedar and fir needles flying through wild canyon winds. Sunlight and reflective stream light transfigure needles to golden wings. Golden wings that illuminate and create a surrounding, engulfing “gold out” — flying, spinning, twirling. Me too! Me too! The light, the light.

A few days earlier Port Townsend State Park, dense forest biking, light spoke to me: “Yes, right here. Here you pray.” So I did. Certainly not enough; I wanted to ride the big forest loop up and down and around. The light, the light. Seeking, discovering, opening — light. / Allowing, being — light.

This from campground signage reflecting some of the power and force of the rain forest:

“Blow-Down: On the night of February 12, 1979, a windstorm blew across the Olympic peninsula. Along the coast, gusts reached 98 miles per hour. Trees fell like toothpicks — 92 toppled in this campground alone — leaving a quarter-mile long corridor of downed trucks. The same storm sank Hood Canal Bridge. Blow-downs are only a phase in the forest’s life-cycle. In the new clearing seedlings thrive on sunlight, and can begin life on the decaying trunks of storm-downed trees.

Driving into Port Angeles this morning from Sol Duc, forest debris all around, at least one large tree recently sawed into sections and rolled, cleared from the road. So much aliveness, wildness. A friend in Bellingham reports big windstorms there with now torrential rain. Dennis says his rain barrels dry a few weeks ago could have been filled several times o ver.

The gypsy tour is also about Green: The Colour of Growth; the Colour of Hope. (O’Donohue p. 104). Recalling childhood summer meadows: “When you opened the gate, you could almost feel the meadow breathing.” (105). I know that! Tennessee gates tractor wide and more. Me getting into pastures right away, walking the hills, humming, singing; exploring, experiencing; communion, reverence.

“Green is the colour of relentless desire.” (p.105) And, from the Irish famine, a man found dead in the mountains (spring) how his lips were green: “The hunger had driven him to eat grass.” (p. 106)

Sol Duc campground site #63 two nights of steady rain (Wednesday morning). Big dollups and splashes, powerful rhythmic movement, dance really, on Roy’s pop top shell, less than two feet above my head. How to describe, write about, express in words? The rain is audio massage through my skin, muscle, and bone, to all of my cells, reprogramming me at a cellular level a la Bruce Lipton’s Epigenetics. Letting the rain in and through me; a paint by numbers in reverse to create new perception at the cellular level. My brain turning new perception into chemistry — a new paint by numbers kit. Lipton: “Your belief carries more power than reality.” And, “We came here to experience Heaven.” Also, “Each of us is a cell in the bigger organization of humanity.”

“What we think, we become.” Buddha

“I’ll see it when I believe it.”

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