1982

I found one of my journals from 1982. I was amazed it had survived this long with all the moves to Hawaii and back to Northern California ocean coast, to Mt. Shasta and the Southern California Deserts since then and pilgrimages to Asia and Europe. Though there is much more angst in my writing then there is also a youthful intensity along with both hope and fear that I have lost a lot since then from just surviving everything that came in my life to a ripe age of 61.

The Rocks-The Earth February 1982

"Today my stress bubble burst. I left the house angry and feeling misunderstood and unjustly treated."

"I Went to Little Shell Beach to get sane. I walked down Rock Cliff and huddled in a depression of the rocks out of the wind with the sun on me. The rocks started talking to me as I cried from my frustration---in life. The rocks held me and consoled me And told me that I and all mankind were their heroes because we were a life form dying and being reborn to a new form of life. And our pain and our groping for our destiny they share with us. Our destiny is their destiny. The experience has been a very moving one for me."

This was written when I came back from this experience and it was the very first one when I realized that Rocks could talk to me because they chose to. I felt very strange about it at the time and to some degree they might have saved my life in some ways that day which is why I think they chose to speak with me in this way.

It was several years later when I was studying with a medicine man and a good friend that he began to speak of the rock people. When he mentioned them I asked him, "How long have your people known about the rock people?" He said, "As long as there have been Karoc Indians in Northern California". I asked, "What do they tell you?" He said something like, "They tell you what you need to know."
Since I was now not alone in these experiences I felt validated in this hundreds or thousands of years of lineage and tradition within the Medicine man's tribe.

After I spoke with the medicine man I walked over to a nearby stream in Siskiyou county and laid down on River rocks next to an alpine tributary of the Sacramento River at about 4000 feet in preparation for a Sweat Lodge Ceremony. At this point I had a conversation with the river rock people there that we used to heat up in the fire and that heated the sweat lodge up to 150 degrees at the very top of the lodge.

The river rocks across from Mt. Shasta said to me quite prophetically, "We are your bones, the river your blood, your breath the sky." I remember being so touched at the time by this awareness that tears came to my eyes at profoundness of what they told me. So, I lay there and experienced this fully and felt very empowered by this blessing from them.