Pokračuj & The Guide Vocal

XV

Rain again today , big mystery ; it was pouring when I awoke at 6:00. After meditation , I decided that I would go for a hike , the weather notwithstanding.

On my walk into town from the train , I take the long way , as usual ; I stumbled upon a hiking trail that disappeared into the trees on a mountain east of the castle . I have been inside for a great deal of time as a result of the rain and cold . Don’t misunderstand  ; I derive a vast amount of joy from reading and writing for 6 to 8 hours a day. Today I made a conscious decision to get some fresh air , no matter the rain and 5-8c ( 30’s-40’s in US parlance ) .

After breakfast , I suited up – hiking boots , water , snacks , and my water-proof day pack  . The trail was more rock than mud , and I kept to it on a slow rise , traversing back and forth . I craned my neck up , trying to find a break in the trees , scanning for the alternating light and dark grey clouds that I knew were above me. I stopped for a drink of water and added another layer as the wind began to blow. Sleet began to bounce downward off of the leaves , adding a clicking and tapping rhythm as I hiked through the thickening mist. I’m no stranger to foul weather , having worked and played in for many years. A few backpacking trips had only a few hours of sunshine , in an entire weeks worth of living in the wilderness. I was not in a joyless mood , I actually had a smile on my face and reveled in the fact that this was my experience , singular only to this pair of legs and swinging arms .

The sleet became more intense , and changed to snow as I stopped here and there to try and get an idea of where I was . The boughs and branches were thick and blocked my view , added by the fact that it began to snow. Snowflakes were so big and heavy that the leaves and in turn , branches were bending . The wind began to drive the snow through the trees and it began to adhere to and pile up on every surface around me. This surreal landscape reminded me of a fantasy movie and I expected elves and sprites , witches and unicorns to coming dancing and running through the thick arbor. In an instant , the snow stopped and turned back to sleet – frozen rain . By the time I made it to the top the wind had ceased and any moisture was done coming from the sky. Coming out of the trees , there was no panoramic view , and the mist was absorbed by the mountain – like a huge sponge made of trees. I front of me was a boulder and I took a seat , glad to be off of my feet and I took a breath . Up there , not a sound from down below me. Just the whistling and calls of birds as they flew from snow-dusted branch to the grassy ground around me.

Sitting on the boulder , wet ass and all , the wind carried a sound. Slightly audible at first , so I slowed my breathing and relaxed. I heard a word in a transcendent moment . The singing birds seemed to have stopped and I heard it clearer …” pokracuj “…very slowly at first and then quicker and louder. I looked around and saw no one. The meadow around me was green and white and still the voice. I sat in complete silence , no voices in my head , just the sound of my breath. ” Pokracuj ” , it was loud and clear , and it was a voice that I had never heard before .

I sat there for what seemed like an eternity and it began to rain again. I stood and saw a break in the clouds on a far horizon. That break showed a beam of sunlight blare through like a bugle in an empty subway stop. As I headed back down in the light shower , the birds began to sing and call , their lilting songs buoyed my legs and wet behind as I slowly descended. I stopped every now and then to try and listen for the sound of that guide vocal. My only companions were the birds and the tapping and clicking of melting snow falling as water off of the trees above and around me. At the bottom , I came out of the trees and was completely surprised to see that the field before me had no snow in it. As I walked out and away from the mountain , I could see the snow-line , like a baker had sprinkled powdered sugar precisely around the top of the near cone-shaped mountain. The sound of traffic and school-kids from the castle tour awakened me from the half-trance and near-thought that I had been in. I had to find out what that word was that I heard.

Once back at the Penzion , I got out of my wet clothes and sat down to look up the word that floated off the snowy trees and into my consciousness. “Pokracuj ” , it means to ” keep going ” ( poh-crotch-ewy ). I sat looking out of my window , searching through the mountains around me , thinking that there was a physical entity that guided me to that transendence. A wave of peace swept over me , warm and fresh -the smell of that meadow and the trees – right in my room. I have always been one who doesn’t ascribe to things that are not real. ” Contempt prior to investigation , or experience ” , has been my M.O. ; I feel the presence of my Grandmother more now , than I ever have in the past. I am not sure quite what it is , and I am not sure I can quantify it. I am going to have my M.O. stand down for a bit and see where this leads. My particular Guide Vocal has told me to ” keep going ” , and I shall.

One of my favorite songs is Guide Vocal on the Duke album by Genesis :                                 ” I am the one who guided you this far                                                                                               All you know and all you feel                                                                                                             Nobody must know my name                                                                                                           For nobody would understand                                                                                                           And you kill what you fear

I call you for I must leave                                                                                                                    You’re on your own until the end                                                                                                      There was a choice but now it’s gone                                                                                                I said you wouldn’t understand                                                                                                        Take what’s yours and be damned ”

Lines 1&2 )   Thinking about my teachings , and Buddha tells me that ” all we are , is a result of what we have thought. The mind is everything. What we think we become ” . It would seem that my Grandmother could have been a guide vocal all these years ( among many others ) and I wasn’t aware of it. Lines 3&4 ) Alone in a place in which I have a fleeting chance to see any kind of family , and very little connection to anyone else , I feel as thought I am stripped bare of the trappings of my life in the US. I have kept the guide vocal close to me , as a muse and because I didn’t think anyone would truly understand . Line 5 ) I am keen to this completely. Meditation has wiped away fear and any anxiety that may come my way as a result of fear. Lines 6&7 ) I have come to terms with the transient nature of this life ; people come and go continuously and I do my best to celebrate them and hold them close to my heart. I know also , that I am alone until the end ( whenever that comes ; it’s not up to me ) and I’m fine with that as well.                Line 8 ) I’m not sure that this applies to me. This is a song about one person’s bitterness toward another. Lines 9&10 ) It seems the more I know , the less I understand . I think that Line 10 doesn’t apply as well , I have nothing to take that is ” mine ” and it is a statement made in bitterness.

Today was a very enlightening day , even in the cold , rain , and snow . I am still very thankful to be here and I am also very thankful to you for reading this . Namaste’