Wholistic Fitness

Pre Race Day of the Old Oraibi 8k; Hopi Reservation, Arizona, last saturday.

***

“If something can be remedied,
Why be unhappy about it?
And if there is no remedy for it,
There is still no point in being unhappy.”
– Shantideva
Guide to the Boddhistva’s Way of Life

one of the images that will be sure to flicker past my consciousness as i enter the Bardo, will be images like this one: a long ribbon of asphalt cutting like a knife through my Beloved expanse of the American Southwest.

consciousness requires space.

the Southwest has space…

lot’s of it.

gives a Gemini mind like mine lots of elbow room in which to just abide…

as i climbed into Bala and appreciated the runner-like cuts (cuz ilg ain’t no runner) in my ol’ thighs as they swung into position for the 1.5 hour drive to Third Mesa, i had some mental jerky that my mind needed to chaw upon…and driving through the American Southwest? no better mental chaw terrain than the high, open spaces which protect Flagstaff from the rest of the Outer World. in fact, i reckon most new daddies would do themselves a world of go(o)d if they too, climbed upon their pony and headed into the remoteness of a very quiet – timeless, really – American Southwest.

A land where red rocks stand like serene sentinels…

…upon whose faces are etched the feverish compassion of eons.

Native Americans from these lands say that the Clear Mind can see the faces and shapes of the Ancient Ones within the weather-sculpted red rocks.

can you?

Wholistic Fitness is as expansive as its birthplace; the American Southwest.

and as i steered Bala northeast, off the dizzying heights of Flagstaff toward the Little Colorado River whose throat ran brown with monsoon runoff, i smiled at the phrase which some internet person had used to describe me; “he is the leader of a bizarrely unique fitness cult.”

“So be it..” i laughed aloud to the sage and tamarisk!

for if such a cult exists from within the germination of my spirit?
surely it is one Gifted from the very witnessing of Mother Earth
and Father Sky. and if so, then how can such a bizarre cult be misguided if it be borne from the relentless, indestructible Light of our Mother and Father?

oh, ilg is an EASY target these days, more than ever. hec, 25 years ago, i had people people calling me a Satan-Worshiper because i wrote an article relating the benefits of a Native American Medicine Wheel to athletes. so, really, being a “leader of a bizarre fitness cult,” is really quite a step up from a Satan Worshiper, ain’t it?

Thoreau – one of my spiritual fathers – once spoke of earth translated;
“Be not occupied with looking. Go not to the object; let it come to you. What I need is not to look at all, but a true sauntering of the eye.”

Same way with WF. Many thousands – millions by now – have looked closely at Wholistic Fitness…and walk away bewildered. This includes professional Trend Setters.

See, WF, like the Ancient Expanse of the Southwest and the Native Spirit which resides here – cannot be looked at and understood.

She must come to you.

And when She does, the Transmission is as powerful as the Cosmos. The multi-disciplined genius of the WF Lifestyle is as intricate and deep as night sky.

WF is not for everyone.

Only a few.

Warriors.

WF = A Red Earth Path for Warriors of Genuine Spirit. A bizarre fitness cult we are, in-Deed. Yet what a beautiful pure Path She is. i feel so Blessed to have Her come through me, live with me, and most of all; to be able to attempt to make a living sharing Her with you.

AT THIRD MESA HOPI VILLAGE: NO PHOTOS ALLOWED FROM NOW UNTIL THE FINAL PHOTOS OF RETURNING TO FLAG:

as i prepared to toe the Start Line – my second in as many weekends – Brahman created for me yet another miracle of chi on this 7,000′ mesa of our most ancient of Native Americans; the Hopi. on the evening of my race, i was guided to a gathering of Hopi dances and later, two Hopi men drumming/chanting circles; “Black Thunder,” and “Red Feather.”

sitting less than 3′ away from two dueling groups of Hopi men drummers – 7 to each drum – gathered around a handmade drum as big as an old growth ponderosa trunk and surrounded by an outer circle of female Hopis, and darting in and out of it all were Hopi children and teenagers, many of them holding up cell phones and recorders to capture electronically, the chi. my spirit was uploaded an ancient chi driven into each atom of my being by the haunting warhoops and drum beats.

over 50 Hopis coming, going, and gathered in a local plaza after getting ‘kicked out of the parking lot’ where they had already been dancing, drumming, and chanting for several hours in the hot sun and monsoon winds. they seemed nearly possessed yet i knew it was their chi on fire that kept them going on full throttle as night began to tuck in the pinion trees and horned-toad lizards.

still i yogi squatted next to those unbelievable spiritual warriors as the drumbeats mesmerized my thinking mind and expanded my Higher Mind. the Hopi drummers poured every once of their body/mind/spirit into their chanting, their drumming, and at times their downright beating from all that which felt impure, cheated, and sacred within them …then, they’d stop, momentarily exhausted as the other group took up the charge.

staggering from the plaza beneath a darkened Father Sky sizzling with grand theatre of stars giving shimmering applause to distant lightning…barefoot on Anasazi earth, i gazed and felt and shook in ways like after-sex with the after-effects of the drumming circle.

now, mind Thee, i’ve been to a few white man drumming circles – i did after all, live in the New Age Super Mecca of Santa Fe for years. let me tell you, that was kindy-garten compared to the Hopi’s real deal.

this was Pueblo Revolt Weekend…a most sacred holiday for the Puebloan culture of the Southwest. and if you don’t know what happened on that day in 1680 when Indian Runners had ran for weeks to orchestrate the flawless timing of a revolt against the White Man, well, then sailor, you’ve been fed the edited American History books, i’ll tell you that much.

on this night, in the Hopi drumming and chanting… i FELT and SAW the excruciatingly present and Pure Land pain of their Past, and the unspeakably high level of ongoing forgiveness the Hopi’s bring into their dealings with Panaah (white man) to this day.

for me to bring literary Light to what i felt and saw on my pre-race evening would only serve to diminish the True. so, i rest now my fingers upon the keyboard and shall deliver upon Thee, Oh Faithful Follower of Multidisciplined Yoga, to the Start Line of one of my most meaningful races i’ve ever had the honor to sweat within…

tomorrow for DL Subscribers only…cuz, you deserve what i write from my spirit…

i’ll give you this much about my race:
it’s about what ilg knows best;
the pain of transcendence

you don’t get writing from other world-class athletes like this
you know why?

cause they don’t Love you
the way
this
mountain yogi
does.

that should be evident by these 25+ years, eh?

i love and cherish the fact that you have read this far…

see you tomorrow…