A Man On The Fence

The Opening Begins

The Opening Begins

Near REDINGER LAKE, CA—He had stopped by the dam three times that day, admiring the lake, but noticeably curious about the man sitting in an easy chair in a van. Finally, as daylight faded, he set up his tent and came over and introduced himself.

When I said that my name was also Wayne, he did that odd push-pull thing (when their Soul draws them in but their mind pushes them away) as if the coincidence of our names confirmed something in him for which his mind wasn’t ready to admit.

I too was in conflict.

He was telling me how he had been down the road a ways, shooting his gun, taking target practice. My mind told me I could be of no use to him—that he was not a spiritual seeker, that he was simply out camping and enjoying himself. But She urged me on and I said, “This is a good place to meditate. It’s quiet and peaceful here.”

His shock was apparent as the resistance of his mind collapsed and he said that meditation was exactly what he needed, that he was trying to be a Buddhist and he went to his car and handed me a small book of sayings. He said he worked at his parents Chinese restaurant and needed some time to de-stress and to quiet his busy mind.

I nodded as much to Her as to his words and She/We/I said, I like sitting by the lake and looking out over it at the trees on the other side and visualizing the life force that moves inside them—knowing the force which gives life to those trees is the same force which gives life to me. Some call it Tao, some call it God, maybe a Buddhist would call it Source, but regardless, it’s there and it’s real and it is only our minds which stand in the way of recognizing it. It’s ironic that we have to separate ourselves from our thoughts in order to find unity with the All.

He went quiet then and gazed out at the trees across the lake.

He was a man on a fence. He wanted the Spiritual, but he clung to the Material. His quest for solitude, if only for a weekend, was a step in the right direction—a chance for him to sample the One without the noise of the other.

She had said what he needed to hear, so I wished him well and climbed in my van and drove up the winding road to a fallback camp I kept my eye on—a quiet place in the mountains with a view and with solitude and wildlife and woods.

It’s ironic that we have to separate ourselves from our thoughts in order to find unity with the All.

Posted in Best Of, Day in the Life, Duplex Personality, Techniques

Real World Resurrection

Stand-In Easter Lily In The Wild

Stand-In Easter Lily In The Wild

REDINGER LAKE, CA—I’ve said it a million times, but Easter seems an appropriate time to say it again:

The less there is of you, the more there is of Her.

Her being TaoGodHer of course.

Now put the chocolate bunny down nice and easy, drop the obnoxious you-self, get the hell out of Her way, and have a happy Easter. :)

Posted in Mystical Oneness

Thank-You Allison

REDINGER LAKE, CA—Because of Spring Break and all the college kids having their machines worked on while they partied their clothes off—it looked like it would take a full five days to fix my laptop.

But Allison at the Fresno Apple Store got me back up and running in less than 24 hours.

Sad but true: No computer = no income. So thank-you Allison.

We now return to our regularly scheduled programming.

Posted in Day in the Life

This May Be The End

REDINGER LAKE, CA—I’m going to try to get this post out before the end. Don’t if I’ll make or not… .

Trackpad is screwing up. Double-clicks, single-clicks, drags and drops all on its own. Seems to go into a semi-infinite loop once every few minutes and locks u.


Can’t scroll now. Backspace is giving ooouut. KKKeeeyyyss reepeeeaating aat raandom. Argh…

Lks lk anther trip to Fresssssnooooo.

Aaaaaaahhh, keyboooard is goinggg nnoow…

Wwwwill rite bacsooon


Posted in Day in the Life, Silliness

But It’s A Life I Kinda Like

Bridge Over The River Redinger

Bridge Over The River Redinger

REDINGER LAKE, CA—With only a few gallons of water and rapidly dwindling supplies, it seemed it was time to leave this quiet and beautiful place.

As I climbed into the front seat, I took a last look around at the clear lake and the lush woods and the solitude and thought, why not come back? Why move on? I’ve got nowhere to go and no time schedule to keep and no commitments to fulfill when I don’t get there anyway.

So I made an out-of-the-way trip north to make a round-about trip south back down to Fresno for supplies, making note of a few potential camps I might use on my way to Yosemite (or not) and picked up some food and some water and stealth camped for the night, then did my laundry in the morning and made the three requisite runs into Lowe’s and satisfied my craving for Thai (for food, not girls, but that would have been nice too).

When I designed this rig, I designed it to hold a little over a week’s supply of water since my past had taught me that after a week I’d get restless and bored and head into town anyway, even if I didn’t break camp. But when this far from civilization—and surrounded by such beauty—a week’s worth of water is too little to have and too limiting a factor and too easy to fix so I picked up an extra six gallon can for a total of 18 which should give me enough for two weeks in one place when I feel the need to stay in one place for two weeks.

Restocked with food and water and parts for some minor rig tweeks, I drove back up the long and winding fraction-over-a-single-lane hair-pin mountain road in which every mile or so would appear a cow, a lethargic massive bovine, standing dead center mid-lane around a blind mountain curve staring dully at the interruption to her otherwise tranquil day (a factor contributing to why this place is so empty no doubt) and eventually arrived at my camp where I parked and I stripped and I went for a chilly but wonderful swim in a clear mountain lake in a beautiful forest in the middle of nowhere.

The life of the van dweller—and the mystic for that matter—is not a life for everyone. It’s a life of uncertainty and of sacrifice and of solitude.

But it’s a life I kinda like.

Posted in Best Of, Day in the Life, Silliness, VanDwelling

No-Self And Miraculous Healing

Missing Handle. Missing Bone Lump.

Missing Handle. Missing Bone Lump.

REDINGER LAKE, CA—In the interest of transparency. From my journal entry yesterday (minor edits to add appropriate links):

April 10, 2014 at 12:30 PM

Not sure I’m ready to document this on the website… Too many unknowns, too many unbelievable experiences in such a short time period:

Have been reading One Mind—basically about the evidence of TaoGodHer—and was thinking, “Of all these fantastic abilities that it talks about as evidence, which of these powers would I like to have?”

I know the argument against attachment to siddhis, but still, which one?

Healing. No question. Even though it would destroy my love of solitude, it would be the one that could both do the most hands-on good for others and be miraculous enough to convince others of Her existence.

About an hour after I had uploaded a blog post about the book One Mind, I shut the van door on my bath towel and it jammed the door. As I was pulling repeatedly on the handle, the handle broke off and I fell to the ground and sprained my back. One of those it’s-going-to-be-a-month-of-pain-type of back sprains.

An hour later, sitting in pain but oddly at peace, looking out over the lake and forest and thinking of TaoGodHer/One Mind as the life force inside all those trees—seeing the life force rising up inside the trees—I suddenly looked inside this body and found the same thing. No Self, just TaoGodHer and a thin shell-like structure (my body) containing/separating it from the rest of Her.

No self at all. As I write this the next day, 24 hours later, I still can’t find the transcendent self that has been “me” for the last four and a half years.

Anyway, I figured this was a good time to practice the healing. I lay down in bed and an odd and surprising thought came to me. The pain in my back reminded me of Dad’s back pain, so rather than trying to cure my own, I lay there visualizing taking in his pain into my own—into this living emptiness that I find inside this shell/body. I did the same with Mom’s partially blocked artery, taking it into myself. Not trying to heal myself (there isn’t any “myself”) just taking in their pain and disease.

Today, a few big surprises. Though my back is a tiny bit stiff, there is practically no pain. Furthermore, that odd 3/4 inch bone-like lump that was on my right wrist only yesterday, the one that looked like an extra wrist bone, is gone. It is just not there anymore. That in itself is a miracle as I always suspected it to be bone cancer. Additionally, the pain in my ankle from when I twisted/cracked it down in Mexico two months ago is practically gone.

As I said, I’m not ready to go public with these things yet. I want to see if both the no-self and the healing are of more a permanent nature.

Update (me blogging now)…

  1. This feeling/experience of no-self is different from Radiance in that the Shell/Portal of Radiance feels like “you.” In this case there is no “me”—the shell thing just feels like a hollow “crust” of this body. See this and this for more on my earlier thoughts on the transcendent-self and no-self.
  2. Currently, the no-self and transcendent-self flip in and out, so—as of now—the no-self isn’t a permanent state.
  3. I don’t know if the healing practice had any effect on my parents. There is no phone coverage here and for whatever reason, I didn’t email Mom about it. Figured she’d tell me if they noticed anything when she reads this.
  4. No noticeable pain in my back or ankle anymore (48 hours later).
  5. That mysterious wrist bone lump is gone. I wish I had a before photo. I had pointed it out to my mother when I was last down in Florida (it was smaller then), so hopefully she remembers it.

A few things that seem important:

  1. I was in the no-self state during the healing experiment.
  2. I wasn’t trying to heal myself but others.
  3. The thought of bringing their pain/disease/illness into my own body (not healing it but pulling it out of their bodies and into mine) surprised me.
  4. I didn’t/don’t care if pulling in their pain/disease/illness affected me. The feeling was there was no “me” for the pain/disease/illness to attach itself to.

Status Update April 12, 2014 8:55 AM:

For an update on my parents’ conditions, see this comment.

Posted in Best Of, Day in the Life, Evidence, No-Self

Evidence Of The Divine

Dam at Redinger Lake

Dam at Redinger Lake

REDINGER LAKE, CA—In the morning, the sky lightens and the wind picks up and the sound of the waves lapping on the shore wakes me. Near the dam, a flock of small birds sweep and soar over the water’s surface, capturing their breakfast. I look out at the forest and take in the beauty and wonder of the natural perfection of it all.

The other day, She said, “This is the makings of the Divine.”

I have thought about that statement a lot since then.

I’m reading a book, One Mind, and while I’m not finished with it, it provides some of the most powerful evidence of TaoGodHer (what the author calls One Mind) that I have ever come across.

To prove his theory of the One Mind, he presents overwhelming evidence in the form of studies, reports, and news stories on such topics as Near Death Experiences, Remote Viewing, Reincarnation, ESP among Primitive Cultures, Savants, Separated Identical Twins, Synchronicity, Distance Healing…. Not just woo-woo claims, but documented evidence and research. Events that are made possible by a connection to a higher, all-knowing, all-powerful intelligence.

Taken individually, you’d be justified in being skeptical, but taken as a whole—a huge amount of evidence from a wide range of sources—well, if you’ve ever had doubts about what I call TaoGodHer before, I suspect this book will put an end to them.

I recommend One Mind to everyone to whom my message resonates: That we are both separate but one with some greater, vaster intelligence.

Powerful stuff.

Posted in Evidence, Mystical Oneness

He Was A Sad Man

Camp At Redinger Lake

Camp At Redinger Lake

REDINGER LAKE, CA—He was a sad man, but the words She spoke seemed to comfort him.

I didn’t expect to find myself in this place—and as I sit here writing this a mere hour after these events happened—I still feel the awe and the gratitude and the love.

I fully expected to be in Yosemite today, but a minor emergency with work and, later, a whisper from my Lover, led me to this remote mountain lake.

Though not a soul in sight, and not a single car seen on the way up here, She told me to wear a swim suit while I bathed in the cold mountain lake.

As I got out of the water, I saw him above me, sitting on a rock, taking in the view. His teenage daughter was in the car further back, making use of the mysterious cell signal here, texting away, oblivious to the beauty.

His sadness was palpable, but I smiled and said hello and commented on how peaceful it was here. He said he didn’t know this place existed, that he had just made a wrong turn on a mountain road on his way back from Yosemite.

He was silent for a moment and then told me he had just put his father in hospice.

I let go of the self-contraction and released the noise in my mind and opened and She told him that death is often preferable to the suffering that modern medicine puts us through. That regardless of your spiritual beliefs, we either blink out into nothingness or our experience only gets better. That either option was better than suffering.

“What about Hell?” he asked.

I/She/We pointed to the beauty all around and She said, “If you believe in hell, then you must believe in the Divine. This,” pointing to the forest and the lake and the sky, “is the makings of the Divine. The only hell I’ve ever seen, the only hell I’ve ever known, were of the man-made kind. Look around you. This is the work of God. The Divine didn’t make hell. Man did.

He looked out over the lake and was silent for a time. In a moment, I saw the darkness lift from his being and his body relax and he looked over at me and smiled and said he thought maybe he’d go for a swim.

I left him then and waved to his daughter and drove up the road to a campsite on the clear mountain lake in a vast empty forest in the middle of nowhere.

I often don’t know why I’m led to a place or a person (seeker Louise, resistant Rod, the flirtatious woman and the gentle giant, …), or what I’ll see or say when I arrive, but it is times like these—when there is a deep and mysterious connection between far-flung strangers…

Well, it is times like these that I know in my heart that all is well, and all will be well, and surrender is often the pathway to miracles.

Posted in Best Of, Day in the Life, Duplex Personality, Synchronicity

On Urban Stealth Camping And Van Mods

Another Day At The Office

Another Day At The Office

FRESNO, CA—While waiting for the weather to clear up in Yosemite, I’ve been passing the time in Fresno and taking full advantage of the facilities that any urban environment offers a van dweller.

Some recent mods I’ve made to Serenity (the van):

  • I had the windows limo tinted. With this tint job, I don’t have to cover the windows for privacy. As long as I don’t have a light on inside, I can see out and no one can see in. This is particularly useful when “stealth sleeping” as you can see what’s going on “out there.”
  • I finally got around to covering the van walls (three kitchen mats plus some wood trim).
  • I added a short shelf over the refrigerator for some additional storage.

I still haven’t covered that glaring ceiling yet, but will when the time feels right.

Kitchen Mats as Wall Covering

Kitchen Mats as Wall Covering

Extra Storage

Some “Urban Stealth Camping Tips” for the curious:

  • When working on the van, I go to Lowes or Home Depot, park around the side or back, buy my supplies, and tinker right there in their lot. Saves driving back and forth (for the inevitable forgotten item). No one has complained.
  • I often park and sleep in motel chain parking lots. My guiding moral principle is “Do No Harm,” so as long as there are plenty of spaces for paying guests, I see no harm in this practice.
  • I leave the motel at sunrise, drive to an empty retail parking lot and bathe. The tinted windows come in handy here too.
  • I usually then go to a coffee shop and work. I always purchase something from the shop to compensate for my wifi usage.
  • Afternoons are for either more work (often at a city park) or exploring the surroundings.
  • Evenings I often sit in the rig in a parking lot and watch a movie on my computer or read or web surf.

In any large town or small city you could live this way indefinitely.

I guess this post is mainly for those who are van dwelling curious. I live this way by choice, but many—due to financial circumstances—live this way by necessity. If the last is your case (or you are contemplating it), then I suggest you subscribe to Bob Wells’ blog, join his forum, and purchase his book as he tends to focus on van dwelling and has tons of useful advice on the subject.

And if you are contemplating living this way due to necessity, have faith—once you get acclimated to living this… untethered, it’s a great way to live.

Posted in Day in the Life, VanDwelling

Negative Reinforcement

Too Much Mind. Too Little Light.

Too Much Mind. Too Little Light.

FRESNO, CA—When it comes to spiritual development, I’m a big fan of negative reinforcement. If it sucks, you’ll tend to avoid it. So un-Buddhist of me I know, but it works (I’m not a Buddhist).

In this forum post, I respond to micherts comment about the analytical mind and how I use my dislike of the mind to strengthen the Love/Light in me.

Turns out, Thomas Merton might have been a fan of negative reinforcement too:

In humility is the greatest freedom. As long as you have to defend the imaginary self that you think is important, you lose your peace of heart. As soon as you compare that shadow with the shadows of other people, you lose all joy, because you have begun to trade in unrealities and there is no joy in things that do not exist.

-Thomas Merton

Volumes have been written about what Merton says in just three little sentences. Beautiful.

As long as you have to defend the imaginary self that you think is important, you lose your peace of heart.

In other words: If you keep defending your personal self (imaginary self), then your life is going to suck.

Bad dog! Bad! Drop that right now! You bad dog.

Negative reinforcement: Bad for dogs—good for you.

(All silliness aside, read those three sentences again. Powerful words.)

Posted in Ego Barrier, Personal Self

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