It turned out that traffic hit and the human hours tied me up into the what will be, ripping me out of the now and keeping me from seeing tony's show. i was so mad that my head turned and split in two. i lost the ground i'd found, ended up wishing i'd left two hours early, which is always the holy road rule of travel...when something important lies ahead....
that was my birthday day, being Born again, back into the now....which is Not fun but still a gift. the weekend was spent celebrating the new life, with constant thanks for baba, the dharma, the manifestor, the long coutry road, the books, the sleeping, the waking, the howling, the big open lake, the breathing, the reaching for light and the Now Clock that ticks in my time. tomorrow's show will tell the whole story. the little boxes exposed, my fight for the right to be in the now, our journey back to new york, our road heading to new hampshire and the healings to come...from the holy road with love and howling - L, X=h/m

Today is my birthday, Every day is my birthday on the holy road and every minute my funeral and all things are always in the process of being born and dying. Something special happened though, 33 years ago (in human calculation) when my body entered this earth by way of The Great Mother Canal. At New York Hospital, on July 21st, 1973, I arrived. They used to say I was born singing/born laughing but it's not true....I was born quiet and silently screaming for my return to the eternal cradle. Memory believes before knowing remembers. My skin was yellow and they lost both our heartbeats....My mother clung to me, all sweaty and strong, once it was clear that we had both survived and we would travel this lifetime together, helping each other find the Way Home. I'll write more later...howling to you, X=h/m. Lizzie

I'm reading "A Tree Grows In Brooklyn", just started it on Thursday and I'm half way through. It's so good to read like that again, just hours of being with a book, traveling back to New York in the early 1900s.
We had a weekend of rest, the Buffalo, myself....the Dharma Dog and Spartacus joined for air conditioning couch rest too. Didn't turn the news on, not once, knowing that it would scare us if we did, feeling like the start of World War III.... Instead, we slept, played guitars and howled in the afternoon, walked through the crowded soho weekend streets in the humidity, heading to dinner with Kermit and Azi at 14th street. No time for podcasting or the work of the holy road now, not until August 1st, when we're back from break and in the flow again.
"Have you heard it is good to gain the day, I also say it is good to fall. Battles are lost in the same spirit in which they are won." -WW...We're carving a path for ourselves now, we who don't want to worship money god anymore, clearing the brush of consumption and ownership obsession, finding a passageway Home. "Summer in the city can cause that rip to tear." Tony went back to a week of teaching for NDI until Friday. Laura and I are here on Prince street, planting holy trees that will bare such colorful caring fruit in the Fall. Howling to you from the holy road, Lizzie X=h/m

Watching the news is always a paralysis. the wars breaking out all over the world, fundamentalism of every kind, religious and corporate. i want to crawl into the consumer sleep and be safe there like everyone else, inside the drama box, the tv. the only thing that draws me out is steady breathing, knowing tony's coming for the weekend...we'll talk and read and rest here, in love and leaves of grass, "it is not chaos or death, it is form and union and plan, it is eternal life, it is happiness." I miss the city in the middle but know the now. -howling to you from the holy road, Lizzie X=h/m

It's evening now and I find the storming new york almost lovable again, almost peaceful and almost sincere. sitting under the cafe canopy on prince street, writing about the midwestern tumbleweed. the lovers from denmark say i still hold the city in my heart, they can tell, they say, by the way i direct them to the williamsburg galleries and the central park boat yard and the natural history museum. howling to you, L ... X=h.m

The city is packed with people moving in and out of train cars. hot, busy, overwhelming, lots of homeless people
carrying bags of cans or doing nothing but be hungry. cellphones everywhere, inescapable sounds of ring tones and honking. i don't know how folks find serenity in the constant suck of this city. it's beyond gravity, what pulls people to volunteer for the drain every day. it's social distortion indeed , i grew up in this and have spent my life trying to leave. i've seen both the coasts and i know they harbor the disease worse than anyone. fear and money worship are the natural causes from which we die every day. places where people are caught with their heads in the tiger's mouth, time is the tiger and they're addicted to their own hanging skin. the thrill is enough to make them trade their whole life for that feeling but not me, no way. i'm planning my escape route from the egg roll and next time i come back, i'll call the seaguls from the east river to host a breakfast of thieves. with one breath after breakfast, i'll invite you to join me in travel through the tunnel we carved for the evolution. howling to you from the holy road, Lizzie X=h/m "every atom belonging to me, as good belongs to you."

The first night back in New York is always the hardest. I hear my mother's voice, not as an eternal cradle song but as a memory with actual tone and emotion. I see her playing Chopin on the grand piano or calling me to the living room to sit and as she would say... "tell me everything, everything!" If only I could, I would...oh how I'd ramble on...all about Columbia, The House on St.Joseph Street, all the angels flying in and out of my court, about the beautiful buffalo and the rising, and laura's being deeper than all the oceans deep, the saturday hospital healing from Paula and Ken, some of the infinite family found... but I can't tell her, not in words anyway. it makes me feel better when the buffalo says, "she already knows everything, she's 'conducting the orchestra, lizzie', (quoting "louise"). The Dharma sees me on my knees. he barks the same wisdom that the buffalo shares. I'm sure they're right... but I miss her bountiful hug, her excited eyes opening wide with my stories, her feeding crackers to fig while we walk and talk, her physical being was such a wonder. Since I can't sit beside her, I've decided, this morning, to come and sit beside you. Is it alright if I tell you everything....the holy road is neither good or bad but always winding, I'm heading Home, chanting this with every step.... If you don't create your reality, your reality will create you...Howling to you from the holy road, your friend in life and song, Lizzie ( X=h/m)
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