Wholistic Fitness

click on pics to enlarge.
text by steve ilg.
photos by steve ilg and joy kilpatrick.
do not republish without permission.

locations;
Clear Creek Campground, Arizona
Jerome, Arizona.

If we wish our children to have much,
we must show them how to enjoy having little.
Deny children the dirt of Mother Earth,
and we teach separateness from the start.
Treat our children with an agenda set upon nothing
save for that which they themselves set
and each thing becomes a natural teaching in the Tao.

Does not the greatness of an Arizona Sycamore welcome and accept all who pitch
their tents beneath her sensual limbs and shade-giving leaves?
Why not hear the voice of your own spirit within…

…the forgiving gurgle of a stream?

…or the giggle from your child going potty…while brushing teeth in
the back of the car? (Another valuble assest of the Honda Element’s washable flooring!)

Why diminish the smile of an Evening Primrose
on the pale path
near the sound of crickets,
larks,
and lizards?

How long has it been since your Inner Child
felt the touch of your inquiring hand
under a blue sky
which loves nothing more
than – dare i say it?..

your smile?

the paradox of the southwest desert:
arms of the Ocotillo
endures such dryness
her limbs reaching up as if in prayer for water…

…yet not 50 meters away runs wetness of a spring creek
where among the crawdads crawling,
the trout swimming,
a new daddy splashes with his daughter…

and wonders within himself
why his own dad never did…
too busy working
too busy working.

nothing matters more to a child than the feel
of their daddy’s firm, loving hands wrapping with love
and laughter upon their precious new skin.

bent, as if in humble prayer,
Ananda stands in a wet place
among the unhurried current,
living now in a world of expression and faith
for her child
who must learn to swim in this world of
forms.
The new mother wonders,
why her own mommy never went into the woods with her…
to have her touch the altar of dirt, grass, wood, and stone.
Above their splashing,
an Oriole sings to the tasks we all must face.

Oh Lord,
in these cloudless skies above Jerome,
let my own longing for enlightened life in all Her unified strands
stand as Teacher for my daughter…
let the domestication of my wild warrior nature
take flight even as does Eagle Brother soar
and may my actions be brave and kind and pure
as the Rose
or the Bristlecone above timberline.

May the lifestyle of my Wholistic Fitness monkhood
tip the hat of (w)holy ground
for Dewachen
and may the friendly attitude of my mind
keep my families hearts relieved.

May there all-Ways be Laughter and Humor enough in our family
to moon
the moon
as the Cricket Beings, and the Frog Beings and the Coyote Clans serenade the scape of night sky…

…and may my Precious Daughter
know her Daddy to be a man of kindness and support
not trying to change Her Treasured life…

…just to help Her climb up the Tree of that Treasured Life…

…may all Human families everywhere
prioritize camping
in the dirt,
near a creek,
beneath the howl of stars
and sun
and
everything
fun.

Oh Lord,
this is not the camping of which i am familiar,
yet though it be new
and requiring another fresh load of patience to learn,
when i kneel down on this canvas of sand and stone and Buffalo grass
the old very familiar scent of Sacredness happens again
and again,
and endlessly again.

Most Precious Lord My Father,
though i am so feeble,
and not ready,
my effort is upward toward You
and that effort is sincere
ever moreso now that
i see, feel, and am Loved
by this Family of yours
i now know as ‘mine.’