Kayo Denham was a Saint

December, 2015

I, along with several billion other humans on this planet, struggle and work at practicing a spiritual tradition.  Kayo, my father-in-law, was different from me, he was “a natural,” unaffiliated with any religion or spiritual path, and yet, all those positive attributes that I try so hard to remember each day, he gracefully and naturally embodied.  He made it look easy, and I believe it really WAS easy for him.  In the entirety of my experience, Kayo was the most gentle, the most generous, the most kind, and the most selfless person.  He was living, breathing loving-kindness.  One of the most profound blessings of my life has been seeing and feeling Kayo’s warm, bright, happy example.  

 Thank you Kayo, I will always love you!

A Lovely Transition

Last week we traveled to Astoria, Oregon to witness, share and celebrate the beautiful wedding of our young friends Kendall and Wade.

Their small town is filled with historical and geographical significance, right on the mouth of the MIGHTY Columbia River:

Atop the Astoria Column


A dramatic port with many relics of a nautical past:

Like most of the Northwest, Astoria is blessed with an abundance of something we Californians had forgotten, a little thing called "precipitation":

Holy Zeus, GREEN GRASS!

The gorgeous Bride, escorted by the proud Father

There were, of course,  many heart-warming moments;  Joal's excellent story-telling skills made the Father's Toast one of my favorites.

Wade and Kendall dive into Deborah's fabulous PALEO wedding cake.


Suzanne and I are deeply grateful to have shared this life-changing event with you Kendall!  Thanks to Joal and Deborah for all
 the sweet hospitality.  How wonderful to meet young Mesha, and visit with Joph after, what, DECADES? 

Love mas

Why I Love the Wild/Why I Quit Drinking 2013

It came to my attention, way back in High School composition class, that certain subjects commanded almost universal fascination.  Sex and violence, of course, (oh baby, I had a FIELD-DAY with the Inquisition and the Ku Klux Klan!), and then, speed, danger and adventure.  Somewhere along the line, I got the foolish idea that certain activities that I was involved in, carried a similar intrinsic interest, like aviation, cars, treehouses, beautiful mountains, and, of course SQUIRRELS!

Oh, you are so CUTE!  You sweet, little, tiny CUDDLY squirrels;  excitedly scampering all up and down the tree, and I'm talking, LITERALLY up and down 100 FEET, in a TRICE!  REPEATEDLY!  Those LUCKIES!   I couldn't see them down on the forest floor, but it was hilarious HEARING them dash about down there amongst the duff and detritus.

When we last left our hero, in his "victory" hammock, it was tarnished by pain, fear and frustration, but THIS, the third time, was a CHARM.  At many points this project was nearly abandoned, but finally, the difficulties were outweighed by a glorious, beautiful, deep pool of contentment, AHHHHH.  Now, I can celebrate VICTORY, and wanted to share it with you.




As I rode into the woods for these wonderful two days up the tree, I encountered my good friends Lynn and Steve, and mentioned that the tree-project originated because it was so difficult to fit backpacking (where I REALLY wanted to be, the Sierra) into my work schedule.  While riding away from them, it hit like a thunderclap:  "what the heck am I SAYING, our weekend trip (in the backup plane, with it's OWN maintenance issues)  just cancelled, and I know, FOR SURE, that I don't have to fly for at least 6 days!"  Back home, I researched and found this astounding place:

Crystal Lakes, Sequoia National Park

Golden Hour

note my tent on this side of the small Crystal lake

the larger Crystal Lake with the color

Dam!

On my first morning, the only other person at the lakes departed, so I stayed another night, and on the second day, climbed that shoulder on the left.

In 20 minutes, I rose 800' to 11,400'.  

 Steep and terrifying, "I'm NOT a rock-climber!" kept echoing through my brain.

Scary, but I prevailed.  If it looks like a knife-edge, it WAS.  I was clinging to this sharp cliff for dear life.

the view left

Ample proof, once again why I yearn so for the mountains.  Here are a few more shots:

https://picasaweb.google.com/107161978117607741609/CrystalLakes

Why I quit drinking

I was a drug and alcohol virgin entering college at UCSC in 1975, but quickly developed the skills and motivation to abuse both.  In 1989, Suzanne entered my world, and I moderated my drinking, but remained strangely comfortable with the epithet "alcoholic."

Most of you don't know what it is like for an ADDICT, and I'm GLAD for you!  Even though I've experienced few serious consequences from my drinking addiction over the years, it upsets me to be a slave to the compulsive behavior.  On numerous occasions, I've imposed arbitrary limits, like just two-a-day, but eventually, I'd hear squeaking protests from my tiny conscience, when I inevitably couldn't toe the line.  Worse still, I'd quietly sneak a drink from a bottle in the pantry, knowing that Suzanne disapproved.  Argh!  Mostly, I wasn't a heavy drinker, but it was always out of my control, it FELT like I couldn't even take the IDEA of stopping seriously.  Then, after many embattled conversations with Zeus, I planned to stop at the beginning of 2013.  But, we decided to go to Europe, and I couldn't imagine not drinking German beer and Italian wine, (a good example of the problem), so I waited.  Returning home, with destiny approaching, I became scared, and (this seems so silly to me now) even SAD.  In fact, it felt like I was pre-grieving for an old super-close friend, which I WAS, in reality, planning to kill off.  On a little higher plane, I've once again become enthusiastic about Buddhism, including the concept that suffering is caused by desire. I realized that I've been intellectually linking my desire for alcohol to ALL desire.  In order to take "letting go" of desire seriously, I believed that I needed to start by letting go of drinking.*  Now that I've been off for a month, there have been a few moments here and there when it felt strange or awkward not to have a drink, but 95% of the time it has been incredibly EASY and WONDERFUL!  

As some friends have pointed out, there were no delirium tremens when I stopped, so I guess it wasn't technically an "acute withdrawal," but unquestionably, I was, and am an alcoholic.  I hope I can keep this preferable alcohol-free lifestyle going.

ON THE OTHER HAND, I really DID love the connoisseur element of tasting, (and preferring), particular beers and wines, (bad timing!  the last couple years have brought the explosion of superb craft beer production, especially in the US).  I will miss that part.  Also, much of the time, the physical sensation of being intoxicated, was very pleasant, and I often enjoyed it, A LOT, (all due respect to Buddha), in what FELT like a mindful way.  I will also miss that part.  The whole idea of Bacchanalian, ecstatic, celebratory freedom and release, STILL strikes me as a positive thing, but, don't get me wrong, on average, drinking is unquestionably, for an addict like me, a net NEGATIVE.

Here is a short list of positives that I've noticed, since the scales fell from my eyes:

1. Significantly better sleep

2. No more DUI bogey man

3. I can take more ibuprofen, with less concern for stomach/intestine damage

4. No hangovers

5. Dinner actually TASTES better, because I'm more conscious

6. Saving mucho dinero

7. Less hiding/lying

8. The end of monkey shit on my back

9. A sense of power and control over my own life (possibly an illusion)

and one BIG disadvantage:  I no longer get to pretend that I'm just like:

1. Alan Watts

2. Hemmingway

3. Hunter S. Thompson

*A brief treatise on Desire

I'm not officially a Buddhist, but I practice many of Buddha's non-"metaphysical" teachings.  Buddha's first Noble Truth is that life is "suffering" or dissatisfaction.  The second Truth is that dissatisfaction is caused by "desire," attachment, greed or grasping.  It isn't so much the feeling of desire, per se, that causes suffering, but the inevitable CONSEQUENCES of desire that make us suffer.  Here's a little quote from my favorite book, "Mindfulness in Plain English,"

You can’t ever get everything you want. It is impossible. Luckily, there is another option. You can learn to control your mind, to step outside of the endless cycle of desire and aversion. You can learn not to want what you want, to recognize desires but not be controlled by them. This does not mean that you lie down on the road and invite everybody to walk all over you. It means that you continue to live a very normal-looking life, but live from a whole new viewpoint. You do the things that a person must do, but you are free from that obsessive, compulsive drivenness of your own desires.   You want something, but you don’t need to chase after it. You fear something, but you don’t need to stand there quaking in your boots.

Gunaratana, Bhante (2011-09-06). Mindfulness in Plain English: 20th Anniversary Edition (p. 13). Perseus Books Group. Kindle Edition. 

And a very short quote:  "Buddha's second truth, to whatever degree we desire, to that degree we suffer."  And last, but not least, "is it all right to have the desire to achieve enlightenment?  Yes, this is a very good desire--called "the desire to be desireless.""

I know that desire seems as inescapable as death and taxes, and admittedly most of my life I have held Buddhism at arm's length because this part struck me as inconceivable.  Giving up desire just sounds (superficially) like giving up LIFE!  As I see it, the goal of my meditation practice is looking with bare awareness at the way my mind functions, and interacts with the world, over and over, until eventually, I am experiencing all the pains, fears, desires and pleasures that I'm currently experiencing, but I'm detached, just WATCHING, conscious of what is happening, but not caught up by it.  Perhaps, simply because I've read about it so many times now, enlightenment/liberation is starting to sound possible.  As I've told you previously, I am a baby at this, but I have had a few shimmery glimpses of what it might be like.

Thank you very much for your love and support!

Love,

mas

p.s. My promise to purchase "Mindfulness in Plain English" in paperback or Kindle for anyone and everyone still stands.  Say the word, and it is YOURS.  Please just ask, I'm NOT KIDDING!

© Mark Swanson 2013

Boring Holes Through Space/Time, (Western U.S./Summer 2015)

In June, we had our annual flight up to Wenatchee, then Leavenworth, where I backpacked up to Colchuck Lake, featuring Dragontail Peak.  That's Asgard pass just to the left, the entrance to the "Upper Enchantments," (I only made it to the "Lower Enchantments," boo hoo!).

Holy Catballs, it still shocks me to camp so close to spectacular peaks.

YeeGawds, nice, eh?!

Food art for my Brother-in-law Brian's Birthday.

A short weekend work trip down to Orange County, and the Boss allowed Suzanne to go to!  We stayed at the well-positioned Bay View Marriott on the upper Newport Back Bay.

On one of our numerous trips to the Pacific Northwest, a fabulous view of Mt. St. Helens and Mt. Rainier.

Camping at Charbonneau Park on the Snake River, WA.

Having failed once before due to a nasty snow storm, this summer, with somewhat better weather, I made another heroic attempt of Mt. McLoughlin, a "lofty" 9, 495'.

Hooray!  Victory is MINE!

Otherworldly environs of Mt. McLoughlin, OR.

Emerald Bay, South Lake Tahoe

Thanks to Jen for this deliciously calm respite from the storm of life, on the lagoon in magical Stinson Beach

While visiting Stinson Beach, over the years, I've often gazed longingly up to the hills above, and FINALLY, this time we went and discovered the killer West Ridgecrest Blvd.  Can't wait to take the S2K!

Of course, the Mighty MDX is a good car also...

Suzanne absolutely delights in the water-sports at the lagoon, and her delight delights ME!

Once again, this year I was able to attend three of the "Open Rehearsals" of the Cabrillo Festival of Contemporary Music,  catching almost all 15 of the pieces they performed in concert. That's We Wei on the left, about to run through the orchestra's first try at "The Color Yellow," a concerto featuring the Chinese Mouth Organ!  (an instrument I've never even heard of).  Like every single rehearsal I've ever heard Marin Alsop conduct, it was indescribably wonderful--you gotta go next year!

For years I've yearned to clean our backyard and garage, so right around 3:30, one afternoon a couple weeks back, we called a professional hauler, and then worked our cabooses off, hauling it all out to the driveway before his arrival at 7:00 P.M. that evening.  Just like that, poof!  Swanson Selectric Service (as well as a lot of other stuff) was virtually dissolved.

YAHOO!!! POOL PARTY!  Lynn and Steve, and her parents Carol and Vic are the BEST FRIKKIN' HOSTS!

Happy Revelers

After mimicking marine mammals the previous day, we kayaked and canoed out from Moss Landing, to live among them for awhile.

40 years ago, I arrived at UCSC in a station wagon with my family, who dropped me off, with a few possessions, and I began a new life.  It took me 13 years to finish my Undergraduate College career, and in that time I built a tree-house, and a "burrow," an underground room.  From 1980-2013, for 33 years, I repaired IBM typewriters, all over campus.  Last week, I rode my bicycle throughout the campus, exploring new buildings, and reliving memories in all the old spots.

The students haven't returned from summer break, but many of my old friends were still around.

I found a nice oak tree, right on the edge of the great meadow below McHenry Library, and spent the night, much as I had many times over the past 40 years.  Who needs a dorm, when there are a million spots to sleep?

So much fauna amidst the flora--I had encounters with a mature buck, (who bounded right over me in the woods), what looked like a wolf-husky mix, running after the buck, several wild turkeys, and many, many deer.  Zeus Bless, I love Santa Cruz!

How to eat

 Suzanne and I eat a mostly paleo diet.  The Great Nom Nom Paleo explains it much more efficiently than I could:

Our primary source of dietary information is this outstanding book, which I cannot recommend highly enough:

http://www.amazon.com/It-Starts-With-Food-Unexpected/dp/1628600543

I've been strongly influenced by two pivotal New York Times stories, "Is Sugar Toxic?" from 2011:

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/04/17/magazine/mag-17Sugar-t.html?pagewanted=all&_r=0

The short answer is "yes," but the nebulous issue is dosage.  If you keep it under 40 lbs./year, you're probably OK, but if you go over the American average of 90 lbs./year, you're NOT OK.

 and clear back in 2002, "What if it's all been a big fat lie?"

http://www.nytimes.com/2002/07/07/magazine/what-if-it-s-all-been-a-big-fat-lie.html?scp=1&sq=gary%20taubes%20and%20fat&st=cse

2013 Lamentations of a Gear Queen

We've all been there, acquisition-fever takes over, that burning yearning for a shiny new bike, car, house, trekking poles, locking carabiner, whatever, and we're consumed by our consumption!  I confess, back when this camping/backpacking fetish began, I had a raging case of REItis (backpacker gear craving).  It was non-stop greed/lust/desire for one must-have item after another.  Naturally, I talked to my broker, and he told me backpacking equipment was the most secure investment nowadays, so I bought enough packs, sleeping bags, boots, head-lights, stoves, and water-filters to fill a closet.  After all this manic consumption, inconceivably, (seriously, this is the MOST amazing part), there came a time when I barely cast a glance at the Cabela's and REI catalogues, because I frikkin' HAD EVERYTHING!  A kind of peace came over me, acquisition-fever subsided. 

A boy & his GEAR.

In my life, few inanimate objects have inspired the kind of trust and security, which, after thorough, objective experimentation, I've come to possess for my Big Agnes "Storm King" sleeping bag.  It keeps me cozy down to 0ºF.  Time after time, my toes and fingers have been screaming with frosty pain, but experience has brought me confidence and calm:  I know, for SURE, as soon as I climb in, Agnes will ease the pain away.  That's her on the left, the big blue and black one.  Other notables:  I'm holding my incomparable iPhone and InReach satellite extender, while the fabulous Mont-Bell Down-Hugger #5 is the little one-pound purple number on the right.  

Big Agnes paired with Truly Transcendent gear, the Hennessy Hammock tent, (Pear Lake, King's Canyon), which has produced similar security, even reverence, over years of totally trustworthy service.  It was bizarre at first, with a distinct acclimatization period, but eventually, my best sleep inevitably occurs in the crazy hammock-tent.  Weirder still to realize that such deep sleep occurs  within easy reach of my fiercest adversaries, the puma, the chupacabra, and the bear, (curious that I sleep so well in such proximity to their teeth).

After years of wisely camping solo, I foolishly took a trip to Arroyo Seco with good friends Lindsey, Erik and Eric, and saw how other people did this stuff.  It was impressive watching Erik cook gourmet food out in the wild, with pots and fresh veggies, but ironically, it SHOVED me in the opposite direction;  acquisition-fever returned, the race towards "ultra-light" was ON.  Pots, stoves, CUT-OFF toothbrushes!?!?  Why does ANYONE need a toothbrush when they're CAMPING?  I even read an article a few days ago by a zealous ultra-light backpacker eschewing TOILET PAPER!  He had multiple brilliant options:  wooly lamb's ear plant, snow, ROCKS!  He wasn't kidding.  In fact, I stopped backpacking at the age of 18 for one reason:  PAIN.  Fortunately, we live in a time of revolutionary change in materials and engineering, and I'm now carrying a pack, sometimes as light as 15 POUNDS!  Super light, waterproof boots, insect-repelling clothing, trekking poles, and light packs have transformed my trail experience of pain and drudgery, to twinkle-toed skipping through the woods.  Hmmn, maybe I'm taking this "queen" thing too far!

CAUTION!  Viewing this photo may result in enlightenment.

A few months ago I realized that in Baja, all I really need is bug and snake protection.  I typed "bug tent" into Google, and a few hours of internet-research-later, voila!  the new Yama Mountain Gear bug tent, only 10 ounces!  My good ol' Tarptent Moment was 34 oz. so this is a humongous weight reduction.  Not only that, now I can see the scenery through the No-See-Um netting, and no sweltering heat on sunny days.  I found this ideal rock perch a month ago, perfectly flat and level, right on the edge of a beautiful river-gorge.  Since it IS rock, my stakes didn't work.  I adapted with rock-anchors, and as you can see, my trekking poles have become dual-purpose tools, doubling as tent-poles.

Unfortunately, smack in the middle of celebrating the "gear-success" of the bug tent, my BRAND NEW dagburn, carn-sarn, ratsin-frackin Therm-a-Rest X-Therm, (the unanimously praised, very expensive sleeping pad), was gradually deflating under me.  Youch!  I was laying on solid ROCK!  Unlike all my previous Therm-a-Rest pads, (combo foam/air inflation), this new generation, while outrageously light and compact, relies 100% on air inflation.  Luckily, it was a slow leak, requiring only a few refills during the night.  More good news:  REI takes back EVERYTHING no questions asked, so I switched to the much bulkier closed-cell Sol-Lite, the yellow-silver pad you can see below.  Though significantly LESS comfortable than inflatable pads, it is so COMFORTING knowing I can toss it onto rough terrain with nary a care--SECURITY and CONFIDENCE, the raison d'etre of good gear.

Victory is MINE!  My 5-year, multi-stage project is complete.  Around 100' up, where my Eno DoubleNest hammock has been successfully hung between two redwoods.  We're not talkin' eight feet up, or 30', 50', or even a silly "portaledge" hung from one branch, NO, this is a PROPER hammock, strung between two redwood trees, one hundred feet above the forest floor.  A place where a man can BREATH, move his elbows around, soak in a MILLION DOLLAR view of the Monterey Bay, FOR FREE!  (not counting the untold hundreds spent on GEAR).

Surely, this is it, my midlife triumph, the closest I could possibly come to re-living my teenage treehouse, and it MUST be the most important story in this email, so why the hell did I bury the lead?  Simple, because I'm an addict:  gear-fixation is all-pervasive.  So, big deal, 100' up a tree, got it.  Now let's get to ogling that delicious GEAR, RIGHT?!  Mmmm, yum, CARABINERS!

It sure didn't FEEL like a victory.  In fact, I was basically a fly in a spider web.  When I lowered myself into the sleeping bag, still wearing my climbing harness, tied into two separate ropes to two separate branches, I'd been climbing up and down, back and forth for 6 hours.  DADBURNIT!  My frikkin' sleeping bag was bunched up underneath my back, but as I tried to pull it up around my head, my fingers began locking up, my arms, shoulders, and back started cramping into painful knots.  (Speaking of knots, just relish those gorgeous eight-on-a-bight and blake's-hitch knots, we're talking the ne plus ultra of elegant simplicity, eliminating the need for mechanical ascenders, the "less-is-more" of good gear!).

I was scared and trapped in my self-inflicted, cold, painful straight-jacket.  There were two simple things I needed to accomplish:  slowly, carefully pull the bag out from under me, (which took an endless HOUR, no exaggeration), and calm my panicked mind. Using the relatively new habit pattern of moment-to-moment mindful breathing, the old, entrenched habit pattern of fear was soon overcome;  incredibly, I got a full night's sleep!  Though just a baby at the technique of Vipasana, I am extremely thankful to Gunaratana and Buddha for this powerful and tangible victory, one I value far more than the little treehouse project.  Plus, thanks to my excellent equipment, I was somehow able to climb down the next day, HOORAY!  

I'm pretty sure everyone will agree that the solution to avoiding a repeat of this harrowing problem is newer and better gear!  No worries;  I bought it weeks ago, and, like me, it is panting anxiously at the chance to get back up there and make it right!

Just like my good ol' treehouse, this hammock is almost impossible to spot from the ground, even when you're staring right at it.  Heck NO, I don't leave this precious rope out;  it goes in a dry-bag, stashed in a "secret hiding place."

The remainder of this email is strictly intended for serious gear-heads. You've been warned.  It gets pretty silly.  As if it wasn't already.

The anti-climax:  two weeks later, Icicle Ridge, WA. 

Gear mix & match:   two weeks earlier, I accidentally left my hammock-tent tarp 100' up in my Eno hammock, so for this trip, I brought along the tarp-half of my new Yama Mountain Gear Stratiform Shelter.  It was made to fit over the Bug-tent, not this hammock-tent, but it did keep me dry through some nasty rains.  Thanks Gen!

Powerhouse REI in Bend, OR.  Please don't tell my wife.  I haven't been to work in WEEKS!  I realized that all these ridiculous adventures keep me too far away from the REAL source of great gear;  now I spend each day lounging languorously around REI stores, where I can view and fondle all the wonderful stuff to my heart's content.  Sublime!

Turns out, gear is protection from pain.  Almost every item I carry is a barrier preventing suffering from bugs, rocks, bears, sun, thirst, hunger, rain, cold, etc.  In the acquisition phase, it is always a compromise between money and quality.  In the functional stage, ironically, the more things I carry, the heavier my pack, the more it hurts.  Every single trip requires a balancing act to pare down my load to the absolute minimum of clothing, shelter, food, and water, so my dogs won't be barking at me too much, too soon.  I've learned to live with a little discomfort.  The goal is to reduce the pain to a low roar, so I can open my brain to all the JOY of the wild.  

Thanks for joining me on the journey.  Here are a few more photos:

https://picasaweb.google.com/107161978117607741609/GearQueen

The best wingsuit video I've seen to date.  Absolutely, POSITIVELY watch it FULL SCREEN! 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oaMTSOI1Zk4

Acknowledgements:  I credit Erik Grabow for teaching me the phrase "gear queen;"  Ed Kendig for the phrase "acquisition fever;" and Brett Crockett for the phrase "REItis."  With clever friends, who needs brains?

I am blessed beyond all measure by two of the best Fathers a boy could have, my dear Father-In-Law Kayo, and my very own Dear Dad--I am proud and honored to be your son.

love, mas

© Mark Swanson 2013