Deep Water

I started writing this in January, 2026, when my lovely wife and I traveled to Hawaii for a little respite.  Deep grief and heart song had already begun.

Deep Water

 

I’ve traveled tough terrain before, crossed rough and stormy seas,

Been to the top of the mountain, the depths of despair,

I thought peace had come to me.

And then a tragedy unbidden, the worst or so they say,

A child lost before his prime, before he ventured out to play.

I cannot help but think of all the things he’ll miss

A glide across the skating rink, a lover’s tender kiss.

Firsts of everything, yet to touch his world

All the hopes and dreams man has had not yet unfurled.

I’ll never see him marry, or a child to his name

I’ll never feel his joy again, now only feel this pain.

Every single question, all the time, but the answers never come,

His frame of mind, was I unkind?

Like the beating of a drum.

One day those beats will soften, for now there is no end,

Their pounding rhythm driving deep, far past unfathomable bends.

That road now coursing down, deep within the well,

Opening that sacred place where tears and sunshine dwell.

Beyond the walls where pride clings

Into the halls where radiance springs

Where love soars on silver wings

That sacred place where sorrow sings.

I’ll keep walking through this fire, every single day

That’s how much he meant to me, that’s the price I have to pay.

God speed to all who walk this road, I know I am not alone

May our kindred sorrow sooth somehow, the loss we all must own.

Ground Control to Major Tom

Several days after my eldest grandson's funeral, I took the first of many DMT voyages since his death. What is DMT you may ask?  

DMT (N,N-Dimethyltryptamine) is a powerful, naturally occurring psychedelic compound that induces intense, short-lived visual and auditory hallucinations.  It exists, pretty much, in all living things.

Quick Onset: When smoked or vaporized, effects begin within seconds, peaking quickly and usually resolving within five to eight minutes, with slight after effects for thirty to forty-five minutes.

Ayahuasca: The classic South American psychedelic brew. Oral ingestion requires combination with a monoamine oxidase inhibitor (MAOI), so a couple of plants are brewed together. This method extends the experience to several hours, but it is not as intense. 

Perceptual Changes: Users report profound alterations in space, time, and body identity, frequently describing vivid encounters with autonomous entities or alternate realities. 

I had voyaged on DMT a few times prior to this.  What I have always preferred with this particular vehicle is the short duration.  A twelve hour acid excursions might be a bit much for my constitution anymore.  For Pete's sake.

DMT had always been a very pleasant, cerebral and colorful experience for me. Many folks have encountered any number of different kinds of entities, the only thing I had encountered (until recently) was a white serpent.  She was not frightening, she was not aggressive.  She kept her distance, but she also watched me very closely.  Geometric patterns flowed within her.

The incredibly bright colors and amazing geometric patterns you see while on DMT look extremely similar to Huichol Indian art.  Pretty sure some of these folks be time traveling...

                                                                                                                                                                                                           

Keep in mind, all the patterns move in an amazing concentric cosmic dance.

The DMT I had in my hot little hands I had been sitting on for a while.  I hadn't voyaged for probably six or seven years.  It had the consistency of moist sawdust, with a very pungent earthy smell.  And it sat, in a dark vial. Tucked away.  For a rainy day. Which unfortunately arrived.

I had no idea what to expect. Several days earlier I had wandered up to the greenhouses, again, spaces where Cash and I had spent an enormous amount of time prior to his death.  I had read a poem at his graveside service, four lines of which:

"I will look for you always in the bright autumn leaves,

I will feel your presence within a small breeze

I will seek your spirit in the sky above

I will see you always in the faces I love..."

As I sat on a large boulder, facing the greenhouses and weeping uncontrollably, a soft breeze suddenly came upon me.  I looked up and there was a hawk circling above.

It was then Cassius came to me and said, "I am God. So are you."  

Totally Cassius. Layers upon layers. And maybe a little humor. Smart ass kid. We had shared many conversations about psychedelics and the spiritual realm, and here he was, actually in the realm, talking to me. To me, that was an invitation to come see and be.   

My darling sweet niece Ashley had come up immediately after hearing about his death and pretty much stayed with my daughter for weeks. They are very much sister cousins. And my darling sweet niece Ashley became the lucky psychonaut sacred space sitter for her uncle me. 

We chose a very ordinary place out at the farm.  There was still family commotion inside the house, so we wandered a bit away and sat on an old desk and office seat.  It was not fancy, it was kinda littered.  But Ash and I both maintain any place, EVERY place can be sacred.  It's all about what's in your heart.

All I knew was that my heart was open and raw.  It was from this space that I entered the holy realm, NOT consciously thinking about it. I took three long, deliberate hits, and within seconds I started drifting and was immediately hit by a lightening bolt right through my head and into my heart. The electricity and energy surged through my entire shaking body. I slowly drifted into soft chambers of down, bright blue and purple colors swirled about me.  A breeze came and I felt Cash's energy, the pulsation of his heart and spirit.

I lingered as long as allowed, and came back to my sweet niece sitting across from me in the classic lotus pose.  Soft blue, green and purple shafts of color still swirled as I re-entered this reality, taking another twenty minutes to assimilate and completely come down. 

Several days later I voyaged again. With Ash holding space, I blasted off.  This  time was similar, a lightening bolt entered through my head, filling my entire body with bright white light. My body trembled and shook as all the light and energy surged throughout my being.  It felt like I was being fuel injected with copious amounts of love.  

While I definitely believe it is safer and quite possibly more beneficial to voyage with a sitter, nevertheless, primarily because of scheduling conflicts, I felt compelled to venture forth a couple times on my own.

The first time I had the distinct feeling and impression that I was awakening, that I was waking up after a long, long sleep.  Like centuries long sleep.

The second time, I was hit again by that damn bright white light, and it completely ripped my heart open.  As I sat there, sobbing on my front porch, an ally, friend and healer appeared for the first time.  She was a beautiful black and red serpent, and she hovered over me like a very patient and protective mother.  Maybe she was the original white one I saw, but now that she was a part of me her colors had changed.

I knew my dear Ashley would eventually have to go home, so I sort of enlisted the assistance of another close friend of my children's. I approached Michelle with the the thought of voyaging with me, or at least space sitting, and she was at a perfect moment in life for a little spiritual adventure. She said yes.

I usually set sail with eyes closed, but this first time together I was looking at her as we  blasted off.  As I looked within her eyes , I saw and vibrated with her entire everything (heart, being, spirit, essence) completely. At that point I closed my eyes, and held her hand for the rest of the voyage.  During that time I could feel her heart and spirit and I could feel energy coursing through me and into her. 

The second time we voyaged together, with Ashley still holding space, we BOTH ended up together in the same amazing sacred space.  We wandered, in awe through HUGE, brightly colored rooms.  We were in a palace, with endless rooms as large as the Empire State Building. The colors were as bright as you saw above, all moving in incredible concentric, geometric patterns. 

It was then our paths diverged.  I ended up in a bright golden room with a dozen or more hummingbirds.  And she had a visit with a red eagle. 

I had no idea what was happening.  I knew I had touched the divine, had danced with the divine, and I wanted to share this love and energy with everyone.  At that point I had no idea my Kundalini had spontaneously awoke.  So what the heck is a Kundalini anyway?

Kundalini is a form of dormant spiritual energy that ancient traditions describe as a coiled snake at the base of the spine. My new girlfriend? When consciously awakening the kundalini through meditation, it usually starts at the base of the spine, or root chakra.

A spontaneous awakening, which can be triggered by trauma, deep emotional grief, psychedelics, or near death experiences, many times starts in the upper chakras. 

It was a rather heady experience for me, this spontaneous awakening.  I was dancing with the divine and was filled with a gigantic amount of love and energy.  I now know the awakening is just the beginning and takes a while to sort out, integrate and embody. But in the moment, I was thinking I could just do drugs and save the world. 

With the thought of sharing more energy and love, another friend sat in and held space for Michelle and I.  This time I opened my heart to the heavens and was bombarded with light and energy.  I became a part of the "crystalline grid, which is the invisible, multidimensional, architectural blueprint that connects consciousness, the physical earth and spiritual realms".  I sat there with arms out stretched to the heavens, once again trembling, bathed in pulsating blue and white light.  Michelle was with me all the way.  And by the way, the grid is not invisible when you're a part of it.  

The next time we voyaged together we did it with my skeptical but lovely wife sitting in and witnessing.  Cassius's father joined us as well.

The first round was light, but my hands, that I have since named Ying and Yang, had already kinda started their spontaneous kriya dance. What are kriyas you may ask?

Spontaneous kriyas are involuntary physical movements that happen during deep meditation or spiritual practice, when stored stress and life force energy release from the nervous system. Spontaneous kundalini can also awaken kriyas.  The hand dance is also a way for the body to release and express all the energy inside. 

I was beginning to give the spinners at a Grateful Dead show a run for their money.

My lovely wife commented on how the three of us reacted.  My ex son-in-law had been a stone, Michelle her beautiful, effervescent flowing self and then my lovely wife made fun of me and my wildly dancing hands.

The three of us decided to do it again, only more this time.  Once we set sail, I made the conscious decision to keep my hands still.  I think I sat on them. What happened next was wild.  That energy needed to go somewhere, so my heart decided to burst open in an incredible array of color, light and love.  It felt like a 4th of July firework finale that lasted forever, emanating from my heart.  Michelle was there too.  We were both sitting there, giggling, as our hearts exploded in love and light.

Ever since that first voyage I have been bombarded with personal spiritual insights. Synchronicity has been off the hook. Empathy, ridiculous. These are all symptoms of a kundalini awakening, and most of these were happening without any substance ingestion during my day to day.

One of the primary insights I had was how I was dealing.  I stopped thinking about everything early on, and let my body and intuition guide me.  

It became clear to me that I was not going to ever think or understand my way to heaven. Words only took me so far.  Comprehending only took me so far. I'd been trying understand my way to heaven for decades and only got lost in the woods.  Every single time.  As soon as I started feeling my way I was there, in heaven, through my heart.

I was also not going to think my way out of grieving my grandson.  I now know that grief lives in the body, and it is there that it must be met. But at this early stage feeling felt right, so I rolled with it.

There have been several voyages since, but here's where the story shifts. Again. While these voyages were incredibly sacred and I danced with the divine, there was more.  I could feel it.  

 

 

 

 

 

Paddles of Tears

The following is from "The Smell of Rain on Dust", by Martin Prechtel.  If you have recently experienced loss, any kind of loss, or know someone who has, I highly recommend this book.  The author presents a convincing argument that most of the world's problems are due to a lack of grieving and actually feeling, really feeling the heart.

                                                    

Excerpts from the chapter, "Paddles of tears, canoes made out of old songs", beliefs of Central American Indian tribes:

"The old understanding is that when a person dies, that person's spirit needs to begin traveling away from the shores of this beautiful flowering earth across the ocean of time, without ever looking back, to arrive on the concentric shores surrounding and facing this reality we live in called the Beach of Stars, where ideally they are met by their last happy ancestors. 

In order for the dead person's traveling soul to reach the opposite shore to be initiated and transformed into a life giving force from a human spirit, all their living friends and relatives must show how deeply they feel the loss of the deceased in a real and honest show of grief. 

The distance to the Other Shores cannot be calculated by ordinary human methods, its distance being more akin to something galactic, so the arrival over this ocean of time is not something the deceased's soul can ever accomplish unassisted. 

The energy that impulses the dead person's "seed heart" or soul over the ocean of time to the Beach of Stars has to come directly from the grief expressed by the living, by those who have honestly loved the dead person.  It is by the presence of their feeling of missing him or her expressed in a collective way that creates "paddles of tears, with canoes made out of old songs," that majestically and assuredly chauffeurs the dead person's disembodied life force right into the arms of the ancestral pool of souls. 

If enough friends and relatives give it their all, the soul of the one whose loss they feel so deeply is not only carried safely to the Beach of Stars, but like a baby chick, has enough of a spiritual yolk sac supplied by the spiritual worth of the beauty of the grief and praise expressed to maintain them during the first stages of transformation into an ancestral force."                              

I read that passage last July to an assembled group of mostly friends of my recently deceased Grandson during a portion of his celebration of life.  My daughter put this event together at her farm and mirrored it a bit after a couple of grief retreats she has personally attended since our lives were shattered October 14, 2025.  We held two short assemblies underneath the large heritage oak where he left this reality, and it all resonated quite extraordinarily with the forty or so attendees.

Last week I was back at the farm helping with harvest.  It has been extremely hard for me to go back into those spaces.  The echoes of his footsteps were everywhere, as was the tender, joyous sound of his laughter. But this time I noticed his presence was missing from the large shop area we had worked in together for the last couple years.  He wasn't there anymore, where I felt him just a scant month or so ago.

The next day my daughter brought up the "Paddles of tears" passage that I had read, and through the soft, bitter tears I have grown accustomed to she commented that he was almost there, to the Beach of Stars.  

I said, "I know."

We both could feel this, that he's almost gone, and through our combined tears we were feeling good-bye, again.  He's now in the wind, but forever a part of our hearts.  

I see Cassius taking flight near the end of this song and video:  

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GZyyrnEDDOw&list=PLDq9PQ39JpU3LKyopuETAVWbGAzkKbrZf&index=2 

Is it just that we have grieved so much that our hearts feel a little lighter?  Or has he truly reached the Beach of Stars?  I think both.  Does it all sound a little crazy?  Maybe, but I can tell you this with unfortunate clarity, NOTHING, and I mean nothing is insane when you've lost a loved one and start walking into this sacred territory. Nothing.

Cassius's death has completely altered my life's course. Instead of piddling around and watching James Bond and Leave it to Beaver reruns for the duration of my silver years, looks like I am becoming a warrior of the heart, or a grief walker if you will.   What are those you may ask?  I suppose you could say it is someone that faces the exquisite pain in the heart, actually leans into the exquisite pain in the heart, rather than turn away.

Don't get me wrong.  I'm not running around out here pushing myself to grieve, it comes pretty naturally.  Still.  But when it does come, I don't turn away.  I lean into it, going in as hard and deep as I can.  And the more this happens, the deeper I go.

I personally have no choice.  My Grandson beckoned me from beyond.  A parent or grand parent will many times state that they would lay down and die for their offspring.  I certainly did.  If that's the case, yet he's already gone, then I suppose this could be considered a cake walk.

Of course, the walk is filled with alligators, anacondas and fire.  Searing hot, piercing the heart fucking fire. Over and over and over again. 

I suppose I could try to ignore that flame. Many do. Push it down. Eat it away. Drink it away.  Pretend it never happened. Deny. Deflect.  But it will always remain, waiting to be heard.

I had no idea how deeply this body can feel.  And grief is a body thing, NOT a mental thing. I stopped thinking about it early on, and have allowed my intuition and body to guide me through these turbulent waters. No one will ever understand their way out of grief, or think their way out. Grief lives in the body, and it is there it has to be met.

My daughter and I have both chosen to face the fire, to be consumed by the flames.  The pain is agonizingly intense, how could all that lost love be anything other?  

Fortunately the body is wise.  It will only let you endure the pain for so long. And then it stops.  Until the next time.  A sight.  A scent.  A sound.  It doesn't take much to trigger when you're so open and raw.

There has been another element involved in this for me, which I will get into in a following post.  Yeah, I guess I'm back.  It's been about three years since I've been writing here.  Lol.  I have three unfinished posts, I guess I ran out motivation and things to say.  I just did not want to prattle on, although I can do that very well.

But these truths that are a part of me now MUST be told and shared. And it all boils down to one thing, love.

Choose love. Be love. It is what we are and what we are meant to be. 

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w99NAM1eMsg&list=RDw99NAM1eMsg&start_radio=1