Pinnacles National Park: California’s Well-Kept Secret

August 1, 2016October 6, 2016 ~ Chelsea Lynn ~ Leave a comment

Keeping my vow, the day I left work, I headed straight to Pinnacles National Park. Luckily for me, a glamsient friend had the day off and agreed to join me. We started at the visitor center on the east entrance where I saw a sign announcing the arrival of a California Condor.”A new baby! How exciting,” I said to the ranger behind the counter.
“Yes, a girl. We are thrilled,” she said. “It’s from the only nest in the park!”
“Do you have any camping available for tonight?” I asked. Knowing that many California parks fill up months in advance during summer, I braced myself for her answer.
“Oh yes, there’s plenty.” She handed me a map of the campground. “Pick out an empty space, come back and let us know which one you want.”
We drove towards the back of the campground — it was virtually empty! With so much availability, we found exactly what we wanted: a site surrounded by trees and bushes to give us privacy and shade.
High Peaks Trail via Bear Gulch Cave
For our first hike, we chose the High Peaks Trail by way of Bear Gulch Cave. My glamsient friend informed me this is the most popular trail in the park.
The first section guided us to Bear Gulch Cave, a rare talus cave thought to be formed in the ice age. The canopy of trees made this hike gentle and pleasant even in the middle of the afternoon. Created by large boulders that had fallen and wedged into narrow canyons, the cave was easy to navigate — sunlight made its way into the cave through open spaces to illuminate the path. We walked over bridges and up stairs created in the 1930s; part of the way, we had to crouch to pass underneath boulders.
“Wouldn’t want to be here during an earthquake,” my friend remarked. “The San Andreas fault is pretty close.”
For a popular destination at the park, the cave was by no means crowded; we saw only a few groups of people.
Leaving the cave, the trail led us to a small reservoir; that’s where the strenuous climb began to the High Peaks. Without the tree cover, under the blazing sun, every step moved me further uphill and every step told me that I am out of shape! I quickly realized this section of the trail would be much more enjoyable in cooler weather — either early morning in summer or a cooler time of year altogether!
(That being said, we saw many groups with children. They seemed fine. Hot, but fine.)
Ultimately, our effort paid off — the trail took us to an incredible peak revealing far reaching vistas of valleys, rock formations and mountain ranges to the east and west. The High Peaks trail showcases prehistoric rock formations; volcanic activity created these rocks 23 million years ago and erosion formed them into what we see today. It surprised me to learn seismic activity moved the solid, massive boulders over 195 miles northwest from the time of their creation.
At the crux, we walked up and over boulders that created a long ridge — in many places, the trail was carved by dynamite into footholds and steps. We stopped to catch our breath, but lost it when a Condor flew overhead! One of only 36 wild in the park, we knew we were in the right place at the right time.
Shortly after we made our descent, we saw a couple on the trail.
“Is the peak much farther?” The young man asked. He sat in shade created by chaparral, his face was red and dripping with sweat. “We are thinking of going back.”
“You’re so close,” I told him. “Keep going.”
“It’s worth it,” my friend said. “The views and everything — you don’t want to turn back.”
“And there’s a cave on the other side,” I said.
Halfway down, we found a spot to rest and wait for the full moon. Despite my aching feet and jelly knees, seeing the moon — large and pink — rise over the mountains at sunset was a glory to behold.
It was dark when we returned to camp for dinner. Eating that night, I noticed a sense of vitality within me. My blood pumped through my veins, fresh air emboldened my lungs and my muscles felt active and alive!
Balconies Trail
The next morning, my fellow glamsient left early for work. Part of me wanted to head home, but I quickly recognized that desire as my old habit of rushing to the destination. The Balconies Cave enticed me and, remembering to slow down and savor the journey, I chose to stay in the park.
Driving to the trailhead I saw quail, turkeys, and a doe with her fawn. The parking lot was empty apart from my car, and only the sound of birds accompanied me onto the path.
Meandering through trees, the Balconies trail is mostly flat — a perfect companion to yesterday’s strenuous hike. Yellow swallowtail butterflies greeted me as if to say I had made the right choice. I breathed deeply, enjoying the time to myself.
When I came to the entrance of the talus cave, I saw a large, metal gate. “Flashlights Required,” a sign read. Having seen a similar warning at the trailhead I had my headlamp — and thank goodness for that! The cave was pitch black; only little white painted arrows marked the trail.
Cool and dark, the deep quietude of the cave penetrated my being. I was completely alone, and instead of steadily moving through to the other side, I sat and turned off my headlamp. Surrounded by rock, my small, vulnerable body felt soft and humble, but I was not afraid. I felt held and supported. I seemed to dissolve, as if I were part of the rock, the air, the empty space. In perfect stillness, I tuned to the deepest part of me — connected and endless.
When I was ready, I moved forward through the cave. As soon as the first rays of sun beckoned me out I wanted to go back into the dark, cool, quiet chamber. It had given me a thrill unlike any other.
Hiking the next section of the trail — a moderate stretch with views of rock formations jutting out of the earth like balconies — my mind returned to my experience in the cave. Wholly grounding, yet also uplifting, I longed to return to the cave and the feeling of oneness.

The Road to Happiness

July 25, 2016October 6, 2016 ~ Chelsea Lynn ~ 1 Comment

Recently, I woke up feeling a strong aversion towards going to work; not because I hate my job, but because it is nearly 300 miles away from my new home and I didn’t want to make that drive.

When I’m scheduled, I usually leave as early in the morning as possible just to get there and be done with the drive. This particular morning, however, I decided to do things differently: I gave myself the glamsient luxury of time.

Instead of rushing out of bed, I snuggled with my cat much longer than anyone would consider appropriate, and before I got to packing, I went on the lake with my younger cousin. Dragonflies waltzed in the air, wildflowers crept close to the water’s edge, and fish made an appearance when we looked for them. We explored the lake on paddle boards, stopping in every eddy until we found a blackberry bush and savored its plump, dark fruit.

As morning drifted into early afternoon, I set out on my five hour drive. Invigorated and inspired by my new attitude, I decided to make my drive an adventure — instead of going the quickest, most direct route, I chose a new road. A stretch of California Highway 25, The Old Arline Highway, seemed appealing although I knew nothing about it.

Without any expectations, I felt a sense of curiosity towards my journey — much better than the dread I felt that morning.

South of Hollister, Highway 25 becomes a gently winding road and the scenery opens into long swaths of rolling hills, spotted with oak trees. East of Big Sur, valleys of agricultural and ranch land create a stark contrast to jagged mountains behind them. Highway 25 teemed with life: I saw hawks, vultures, quail, blackbirds, doves, goldfinches, turkeys, ground squirrels, rabbits and deer.

The highway was nearly devoid of other cars — a welcome reprieve from the hectic highways and freeways I often navigate.

And then, I saw the signs to Pinnacles National Park. When I came to the entrance, I debated momentarily before consulting my new attitude and driving in to eat my dinner. I found a perfect spot under a large oak tree at the visitor center. Children laughed in the swimming pool behind me and a yellow swallowtail butterfly floated through the trees. A breeze rustled the leaves. I wanted to explore the park, but with only a couple hours of sunlight remaining, I knew I had to get back on the road. As I got into my car, I promised myself I would return on my way home.

Arriving at work just as the sun set, I felt refreshed and happy. Turning the drive into an adventure was the best thing I could do for myself that day. Instead of feeling grumpy and annoyed the whole way, I felt elated and light.

My small, impromptu adventure reminded me to slow down and take full advantage of every moment. I remembered that life isn’t about the destination, it’s about doing what it takes to enjoy the journey. Finding ways to create happiness and curiosity that day gave me the wisdom to shift my approach to everyday life.

Dinner under an Oak in Pinnacles National Park

Veuve in a Plastic Cup

June 28, 2016October 6, 2016 ~ Chelsea Lynn ~ 2 Comments

I learned about Second-Sunday when I first started living as a glamsient and spending time with other glamsients. An unplanned extension of the weekend and luxurious expression of freedom, Second-Sundays are spent with friends enjoying leisurely, Sunday-esque vibes.

Earlier this month, after attending the Big Surreal boutique festival, I headed to Carmel-by-the-Sea for a Second-Sunday, which turned into a Third-Sunday to celebrate Linney’s birthday.

The day began with brunch and bottomless mimosas at Carmel’s Bistro Giovanni followed by afternoon cocktails and appetizers at Grasings — our favorite place to splurge. We laughed at our opulence as appetizers led to dinner; just days before, we were covered in dirt and eating on the ground at the Big Surreal. Satiated and in high spirits, we imagined the most glamsient way to end Linney’s birthday celebration. Of course Linney knew what to do: grab a bottle of Veuve Clicquot and drink it out of plastic cups!

The clerk at Nielsen Brother’s Market didn’t give us a funny look when we asked for plastic cups as we bought the Veuve; she even put the bottle into a paper bag!

Lounging in the evening light, telling stories and listening to the waves at Carmel Beach, we watched the sunset and opened the bottle of Veuve with gratitude. We drank out of the plastic cups, and we drank to our thankfulness — for the ocean, the sunset, and that we live our dreams and follow our fancies. Most of all, we were thankful for each other, because without friends, Second- and Third-Sunday is just free time.

Zion Transformation

June 14, 2016October 6, 2016 ~ Chelsea Lynn ~ Leave a comment

Alone at 6:00 am, watching the sunrise over rock formations, climbing natural staircases, feeling smooth buttresses with the palm of my hand, I come to sit on the top of a earth-made spier — I feel like the uppermost piece of a cairn. I sit patiently, open to a message from the landscape.

A sparrow flies in circles around me. Scat below my feet tell me deer enjoyed this view not long ago. I recalled the joy I felt seeing the hot and thirsty doe near Angel’s Landing the day before, and my surprise to see her at high altitude. A tree grows from a crack in the rock behind me — most of the trees and plants I see here seem to force their way through hard, impossible places. The sun’s rays pass by clouds, creating beams of majestic light that illuminate the red, yellow and orange striped rocks around me. Only birdsong breaks the silence of the dawning day.

I look upon the earth before me. It is almost impossible to believe, sitting on a rock perch, that 275 million years ago this region was a flat sea basin. But it’s true: The iconic Zion landscape in Utah is the result of millions of years and five geological processes: sedimentation, lithification, uplift, erosion and volcanic activity. I look upon a working transformation — geological processes that continue today.

The resulting transformation is an unparalleled beauty that speaks to the soul of an unseen power. Several times while hiking I had to sit and pause in stillness and quietude to fathom the power of the rivers and the earth’s movements that created the structures and forced the earth towards the sky in vast towers and points.

I wondered, would the flat basin give home to the many plants and animals I had seen? Would the flat basin draw tens of thousands of visitors in a day with its grandeur? Could it provide the same inspiration to artists, have the power to pierce your heart, and take away your breath?

The spirit of Zion revealed itself to me with insight into myself.

I am a creature of change. I actively pursue transformation of my consciousness to become a more radiant reflection of human possibility — an instrument of equanimity, love and peace. I long to be transformed, to allow the processes within and without mold me and sculpt me into the shapes that I am destined to become.

The work of authentic transformation is ongoing and multifaceted: Zion is still changing. The rocks tell me to be humble, relax into the processes, accept and surrender to the unseen power. Growing pains must not be resisted or feared, but rather, seen as an effect of personal evolution. Life provides limitless opportunities for inner refinement; being present to reflect my true nature requires a Zion-like patience.

Virgin River; a major force in Zion’s transformation

Tiny Homes for the Homefree

May 28, 2016October 6, 2016 ~ Chelsea Lynn ~ 1 Comment

In the days after I talked with my friends about using self-care to enhance their creativity, I saw them internalize the message by eating more fresh foods, meditating as a group, and taking an afternoon off to swim in the Yuba river. In just a short time they were vibrant and joyous as if they had never fallen into a slump; more importantly, after they dedicated themselves to self-care, they accessed crucial, nuanced elements that brought completion to several songs. When they played me a few tracks I was spellbound by the gravity and emotion of the music; one song even brought me to tears.

Witnessing my friends gain immediate, fruitful vitality and accomplishment spurred me to nourish my inner artist with greater depth.

I began by writing a list of fun, compelling, and invigorating activities to feed my soul and refill my creative well (as Julia Cameron would call it). To my surprise, as I reviewed my list, I found many hobbies like gardening, juicing and playing piano that I couldn’t do often — or at all — while living on the road. I realized I missed them like long-lost friends.

I turned my inner eye to the loneliness, uncertainty, and aimlessness I’ve felt in the past year from living homefree. I thought of the time and energy I’ve lost from worrying about where I would go, which friend could host me, where to write, and how I could shift the moving parts to make it happen.

For the last few weeks I’ve taken a break from constant travel and have stayed in a cottage on my aunt and uncle’s property. It’s the longest I have stayed in any one place for the last year! But could I call it home?

Despite the difficulties of homelessness, I love the thrill and adventure of transience. I love the way it’s forced me to grow and stabilize in the present moment. Settling into one place felt like it could end my carefree, rolling stone lifestyle.

But what does my inner artist want?

I walked out of the cottage to a nearby pond. Standing beneath pines amongst lupine I felt the beauty of the landscape seep into my bones. I breathed deeply listening to the freedom of birds singing from the trees. Still water reflected clouds, and looking into its depths, my mind became quiet.

Wouldn’t it be refreshing to have a home again? I thought of all the comforts a home would provide: a grounding place to go back to; a sacred space for meditation, prayer and writing; my own bed. I love domestic activities; they enrich my life and nourish me. With a home I could cuddle my cat, play my piano, plant some flowers, and create a space and momentum for words to flow. A home would make self-care easier and diminish my greatest stressors. It didn’t have to mean an end to my glamsient ways; if I wanted, it could make glamsienting more sustainable.

I turned back to look at the cottage — yes, I would make this my artist’s home.

A Voice Cries out in the Wilderness

May 11, 2016August 7, 2022 ~ Chelsea Lynn ~ 5 Comments

A few days ago, I wanted to hike somewhere I had never been before. I chose the Loch Leven Trail in the Tahoe National Forest because of the picturesque lakes, waterfalls, and railroad crossing I saw online. On the drive up I eagerly anticipated the new adventure.

As soon as I arrived, however, the unfamiliar terrain made me uneasy. Eventually, I found the trail marker — an old, weather-worn, small, wooden sign nailed to a tree. It was so inconspicuous, I was surprised I saw it.

Stepping onto the trail, it took me several minutes to orient myself. I walked along boulders, often intuitively choosing the direction; many times the trail split into deer paths. I felt a growing nervousness. It would be better to do this hike with a friend. I thought of going back. But no! My glamsient life is not about limitations! It’s about freedom and adventure! Instead of turning around, I built cairns to mark my route.

As I hiked, loneliness settled deeply into my heart. With a friend, building cairns would be fun, we would laugh when they fell and see who could build a better tower; we wouldn’t be scared because we would have each other. By myself, it was a response to real fear — getting lost in the wilderness, alone.

The loneliness grew: it wasn’t just this hike, it was a continuation of loneliness I experienced since I began my glamsient journey a year ago, as if it picked up where the previous lonely day had left off, compounded by the ones before that.

Keeping to my mindfulness practice, I stopped and encountered the loneliness. The pain diminished under the light of awareness, and once it did, I meditated on feelings of love — the eternal wellspring of love.

Despite my efforts, however, the loneliness kept returning. I knew following sadness into despair was not the way; it is a pattern in my past, and I am leaving that behind. But when would the loneliness stop, so I could just enjoy myself?

I may have been climbing a mountain, but I was climbing on the inside as well. I was fighting between who I have been and who I want to be. And every internal step began to feel more and more tired.

I kept going; trying to remain present; building cairns; listening to trickling streams caress the trail, sliding down rock faces that once housed glaciers; watching tiny waterfalls cascade over tree branches; hearing the small sound of a grey frog bellyflopping into a puddle when I startled him.

Turning a corner, I came upon a snow patch! I was elated to see snow this close to summer, but then I was overcome with loneliness because I didn’t have a friend with me to share my joy. What was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I be happy just to see it by myself?

In all this pain and conflict, I had to sit on a rock to center myself. When I did, tears came to my eyes, and I let myself cry. I stayed present with my sadness; it was joined by doubt. In my glamsient life, wasn’t I walking a new and unfamiliar path? I had chosen to become a glamsient to fulfill a deep need to self-actualize artistically, and it had since grown into a journey of deeper consciousness and spirituality. But if I was so lonely on this new life path that I couldn’t enjoy the trail under my feet and the unfolding adventure, what was the point?

Suddenly, the path I had chosen a year ago didn’t make sense. Suddenly, even though it had seemed right at the time, I felt like I should have never left my easy, comfortable, former life. I had a nice home and a large group of good friends. I hadn’t been deeply satisfied, it lacked substance and felt restrictive, but at least I never felt like this! Why would I ever leave that easy life behind?

Certainly, the past year of glamsient living gave me moments of unparalleled joy and, although I have a lot of work to do, I have grown as an artist — producing more and better work than before. Taking the time to dive into my spirituality has created greater meaning and presence in my life. Moving towards greater consciousness has helped me become aware of and break habitual attachments and patterns. But couldn’t I have done all this, couldn’t I have made the same artistic and spiritual gains, and still kept my familiar home and nearby friends? Wasn’t this new path counterproductive if I felt so miserable and conflicted in this present moment?

I looked out past the trees to see billowing clouds above the snow-capped mountains articulated by jagged points and crags.

“Help me,” I said through my tears, a voice crying out in the wilderness. “Let me see the Truth.”

For no reason in particular, I turned to look behind me. There I saw a small pine tree with a curved trunk growing out of a rock! I laughed through my tears. I have long identified with trees growing out of rocks; my spirit seems to me like it springs from a hard and lifeless place and it is only through the sheer power and persistence of the Creator that my soul survives and thrives. I even have a tattoo on my leg of a tree with a bend in its trunk — just like the tree I saw before me.

As if I were given an immediate answer to my cry, the Creator spoke to me through the small, bent tree: “You are never alone. I am here, watching, listening. Feel me. Feel my Love. You belong on this path — this unfamiliar, new path. The struggle you feel is your spirit breaking the chains of illusion. Your suffering is an illusion created by your mind from false ideas and parameters of happiness. Have faith in this path; I illuminated it in Truth a year ago. I led you here. Trust your creativity; it is my gift to you; it will heal you. Trust your dreams; I gave them to you and I want them to manifest. Trust that as you follow your dreams, you step closer to Me and your own divinity.”

Hearing this message with the ears of my heart, I felt a sense of comfort and strength wash over me. Without leaving my former life, I would not have gotten to this very moment on this rock to encounter the Spirit that tore through my sadness with Truth. Without leaving my former life, I could not embark upon this new journey that is filled with inspiration, expansion, meaning, and authenticity. With renewed support, I closed my eyes and allowed the air to dry my tears. I saw myself scoop the dark and painful emotions from my heart and surrender them to the Divine. In the open space a love, whole and gentle, spread outward with a vibration so complete that it softened the edges of my being.

I stood up, and with faith in myself and my journey, continued hiking the unfamiliar path.

On my way down the mountain, I passed several cairns I had made. One even helped me when I couldn’t find the trail. When I saw the parking lot, it seemed I completed an incredible journey, not just a couple miles.

Getting into my car, a half-grown pup ran over to me, smiling and wagging it’s tail.

“Hey, buddy,” I said.

His owner, wearing all khaki including a floppy hat with the chin strap pulled tight, approached us. “Finishing up?” He asked.

“Yep.”

“How was the trail?”

“Beautiful. I love hiking. I would have preferred to hike with another person, but the time alone was –.”

“Enriching?”

“Eventually. I was pretty uneasy at first.”

“Understandable. You know, there’s a lot of hiking groups in this area. They go around and hike all the peaks together. You should check it out.”

“Thanks! That’s a great idea.”

“Have a good day,” he said.

“I will,” I replied, sure of my words, “you, too.”

The Miracle of Wildflowers

April 29, 2016April 29, 2016 ~ Chelsea Lynn ~ Leave a comment

I struggle with writer’s block. It makes me uptight, irritable, cranky; I joke to my friends that on bad days I feel “artistically constipated.” Today I woke up feeling a strong block. Instead of wallowing in front of my computer, however, I unplugged and took a walk.

Tall trees marked the entrance of the forest. Pines and Redwoods reached for the sky. I thought of their roots simultaneously pushing down and wondered what they looked like underground. For a moment, I stood still, breathing in and out, acknowledging the exchange between myself and the trees — I breathe their air; they breathe mine — we are one.

Walking into the forest, the sounds of birds filled the air around me as the rush of traffic faded into the distance — peace grew with every step I took.

Or did it?

As I walked, I quickly caught myself tromping unconsciously; I was literally stomping on the living, breathing being we call Earth, seeing Nature without noticing any of it. Immediately, I stopped and connected to my breath.

“Breathing in, I know that I am walking the in forest.

Breathing out, I stop to watch Nature reveal Her mystery to me.”

For no reason in particular, I looked to my right. Above the bushes I saw a bee — a longtime talisman of mine signaling the Divine presence. In this moment, I felt Nature telling me to notice the flowers.

I continued along the path, slowing down and listening with greater awareness to the singing birds while soaking in the warmth of the sun that cascaded to the ground between the trees. Only a few steps later, I happened upon a bush with small, bell-shaped, yellow flowers. Had I not caught my unconsciousness moments before, I would have missed them. As I walked on, I noticed more flowers; I saw yellow, blue, white and purple flowers; large clumps of flowers, teeny flowers all on their own. In each flower I could see the sun, the earth, the rain, the bees, generations of flowers, and all the cosmos; a miracle to behold, a miracle that I could see! A tiny white flower with six, triangular petals gave me pause; it looked like the sacred geometry symbolizing consciousness. This flower spoke to me. It said, “you are here, now; we are here together in this now.” I smiled to the tiny flower.

The forest proclaimed an abundance of miracles and I was present to witness them!

My walk today epitomizes glamsient living: enjoying more with less. The glamsient life is driven by lived experiences, not acquiring possessions. And to live our experiences deeply, we must be present — with practice it is readily available. Noticing the beauty of wildflowers is free; cultivating mindfulness is free; seeing, understanding, and being one with the forest is exquisite.

Ecstatic Dance with Ryan Herr

April 22, 2016April 23, 2016 ~ Chelsea Lynn ~ 2 Comments

Moving the body while clearing the mind is a great way to touch and express emotions that ultimately block us when we get stuck in them. I’ve kept a yoga practice for years, and it has been integral in helping me gain flexibility in my body and mind.

And then I tried ecstatic dance.

Based on three principles (free movement, no talking, and respect for oneself and others), ecstatic dance sounded fun when a friend described it. She said the radical self-expression and silence takes the mind-body connection deep, and with more freedom than a yoga session, it facilitates a unique healing experience.

From the moment I signed in, I found the ecstatic dance community welcoming, friendly and inclusive: the perfect antidote for the disconnected feeling I had from constant travel. While I was waiting for the session to begin, however, I felt uncomfortable and awkward. Free movement. What did that mean for me? What did that mean for everyone else? Would they look at me and judge me? Luckily, the MC guided us to “think less, feel more.” We were encouraged to start with very small movements, if any — some people sat in meditation. Closing my eyes, I was able to tune into my body more and think less about what my body was doing, I simply did what felt good in the moment.

It wasn’t long into my first session before I stopped thinking altogether and let my body flow, connected to the music.

The freedom of making shapes and dancing like nobody is watching helped me let go, yet totally express myself. Sometimes, I feel a disconnect between my body and mind, but it doesn’t take an anatomy class to know they are one. And as I am able to let go in my body, I am also able to let go in my mind. I can tell where my body is congested without judging it and I think these spots are connected to my emotions. I move through them. I move into them. Feeling deeply and fully expressing these feelings is liberating. It allows me to integrate emotions.

The best ecstatic dance sessions (in my opinion) incorporate live music in the DJ set, and just recently, I was in San Luis Obispo, California and dropped into a session with multi-instrumentalist DJ Ryan Herr.

Having played ecstatic dances for over ten years, Ryan has find-tuned his set to include a variety of tempos and styles while covering an array of world music, electronic beats, live improvisation, and original tracks. At times, Ryan layers live instruments on top of recorded music and, at other times, he completely brakes away from the computer and creates music on the spot. Ryan chooses from various instruments including a mandolin, guitar, and electronic hand drum.

When I asked him about this technique, he said he uses the pre-organized tracks to “blend and flow into something live…and unplanned.” Oftentimes, these improvisational moments allow Ryan to feel that he and the dancers have “arrived.”

“What does that mean to you?” I asked.

Ryan explained: “I’m attempting to have an interaction or conversation [with the dancers]…if you go back to indigenous cultures there was no separation between drummer and dancer. They were the same thing. One couldn’t happen without the other. I’ve always tried to keep that relationship, at least with dance music. That’s part of the reason I do something completely spontaneous because that is dropping into a direct connection that is only happening here.”

And, truly, our shared experience with ecstatic dance proves the unity between drummer and dancer. Like the dancers, Ryan is able to feel into the music and he has the freedom of I constrained expression to access the healing aspects of music to help him move through emotions.

Ryan noted that because ecstatic dance moves away from performance and convention, it allows both dancer and musician to experiment more. The lack of expectations of ecstatic dance has helped Ryan “develop as a musician. People come to be in a movement space. It’s less of all the eyes are on you as when you’re on stage, it’s more free-flowing. And that energy makes me feel like I can go off the beaten path; there I’ll stumble across awesome things and I’m able to save that on my pedal for later and I can turn that into a produced song.”

Likewise, I take the space and clarity I gain through the course of a session into my daily life.

Everything about ecstatic dance sessions combines to form a unique resource for dancers and musicians alike. It allows us to express ourselves without constraint or judgement, which leads to emotional circulation and new pathways of creation. We unwind and relax, we let go; we create space, and in the space we find freedom.

The track below showcases Ryan’s live instrumentation on top of an electronic song. For more of Ryan’s music, visit his website ryanherrmusic.com.

Ecstatic dance is worldwide! To find a venue near you, visit the Ecstatic Dance website.

http://soundcloud.com/eye-ry/ayla-nereo-eastern-sun-ryan

Multi-instrumentalist Ryan Herr; photo by Mollie Hull; seenimagery.com

Of Feathers and Festivals: Lucidity 2016

April 16, 2016April 18, 2016 ~ Chelsea Lynn ~ Leave a comment

When a friend encouraged me to explore the manifestation process, I quickly learned the basic premise is that we can attract our desires by entering into a meditative state and then picturing and feeling that our desire has manifested in our life.

I heard a potent piece of advice: to build confidence in the process, manifest things that have very little consequence. In other words, you want it, but you don’t have any emotional attachments to getting it.

Following this advice, one of the first things I wanted was to find a large feather on one of my nature walks. I meditated everyday and often brought the feather to my mind; I pictured it as a large, striped feather resting on the side of the path, easy for me to see and reach — as if it were waiting for me. I would meditate and feel the happiness this feather would evoke when it appeared.

About a month later, while walking a familiar path, I found a large, striped owl feather! It was resting right side up, just off of the path, as if it was waiting for me. I literally jumped for joy. I never could have predicted the total and complete happiness I felt when I found this feather. At that moment, the feather represented a universe in dialogue with me; that my spirit and the Spirit of Creation were co-creating. In that moment, Creation told me we were in this life together!

I have found countless feathers since then, some large and some small, but all a communication from Spirit, reminding me of It’s Presence and willingness to co-create.

Last weekend, I went to Lucidity Festival in Santa Barbara, California. I love transformational festivals and Lucidity is one of my favorites because it is a small, homegrown festival and many of my friends attend every year. One of the most beautiful aspects of a transformational festival is the change that happens within revelers mirrors the transformation of the festival grounds.

Lucidity is located on the Live Oak Campground and I love the way organizers use the oaks to display art, honor the Divine, and accentuate the beauty of the human and nature connectivity. One of my favorite villages, Lover’s Nest, seems to be built around a particularly gorgeous oak — she looks regal and majestic with her large twisted branches spreading out like arms ready to enfold us all. The organizers of Lover’s Nest filled their space with abalone shells, draping fabrics, beads, flowers, artwork and sculptures that invited love. It was the perfect melding of Nature, Spirit and humans. It showed the way that humans can co-create with Nature to evoke beauty and Spirit.

On Sunday night, the last night of the festival, I walked along the grounds with my sweetheart from our camp to hear the late-night music at Lover’s Nest. To my surprise, on our walk, I spotted a large, white feather on the ground! I picked it up and saw gold glitter adorned the top of the feather. Someone had taken the time and made the effort to glue glitter onto this feather — for their own delight and for the delight of all who would see it. My sweetheart and I joked that it was a feather off the elusive festi-bird.

I held the feather to the sky and drank its beauty with my heart and mind — a perfect symbol of the festival — glittering, sparkling, reflecting the light; natural, yet enhanced; an expression of art and love co-created by a person and Creation. I loved it immensely. I knew this feather had found its way to me, letting me know I was seen and heard by the Creator. What’s more, it almost felt like it was just for me — I’m usually wearing white and gold at a festival.

When my sweetheart and I landed at Lover’s Nest, we put our blanket down to sit and listen to the serenade and watch the night sky. I held the feather close to my heart. Eventually, we laid down, completely smitten with the music, our surrounding environment, and each other. I placed the feather on the ground between us.

Sadly, when we arose from our reverie, I could not find the feather! It was as if it had vanished into thin air. For a few minutes, I became sad. I felt as though I had not treasured the feather enough, perhaps I had not valued the gift enough. Why didn’t I hold onto it for dear life, or put it in my bag for safe keeping? It was a communication from the beloved Spirit and I had been careless with it. When I thought about why I was sad to lose it, however, I realized I may have lost the note, but I got the message. And really, the spirit of the festi-feather should be known by as many as possible — passed into as many hands as possible, not just mine. Losing the feather was a reminder to me to love without attachment, and to appreciate every moment.

What’s more, attending festivals (and finding feathers) are experiences — we can’t hold onto them. Each festival is exciting and exhibits unique artwork; new and special people appear at each festival to give us important insights, laughs and friendship; each festival holds beautiful and incredible experiences as beautiful and incredible as the outlandish outfits people wear; and even though I often want to hold onto the festival, I never want them to end, the festival-goers must disband and the installations must be taken down.

Ultimately, like my feather, festivals disappear in the wind without a trace, leaving only their treasured memory.

Below you’ll see a photo and video (of my friend Nikki and I at Lucidity) taken by my new friend, Courtney, the creator and visionary of Threaded Vibes. Naturally, we met Courtney this year at Lucidity.

Love will find a way; photo by Courtney W; threadedvibes.com/blog

The Gill Tract Farm: Glamsient at its Finest

April 1, 2016May 20, 2018 ~ Chelsea Lynn ~ 9 Comments

Helping homeless people is particularly close to my heart since I, myself, have been homefree for the past year. Earlier this month, I heard about this community farm that supports the homeless with organic food — and I felt compelled to help.

When I was there, I learned the farm does more than just give away food. Jon, the Gill Tract Farm manager, told me many ways the farm helps its community: it acts as an open-air research facility through which researchers have found sustainable and environmentally-friendly alternatives to pesticides and herbicides; it has a medicinal herb garden with over 150 medicinal herbs available; they’ve hosted over 100 free workshops to teach and inspire; neurology patients use the farm for physical therapy; preschool through university students take experiential farming and gardening classes; women’s painting groups paint at the farm; and since June 2014, they’ve harvested over 30,000 pounds of organic produce and distributed that for free throughout the community. The ways in which Gill Tract gives to the community is as boundless as the earth.

I loved volunteering at the farm because I knew I was making a sustainable difference in the community, especially for the homeless population. The plants I put in the ground would continue to give to the farm (with bees) and the community (with harvest).

I felt invigorated to create change for a noble organization, but the joy in my heart was soon replaced with anger and frustration when I learned the Farm is under serious risk of closure.

The rich agricultural land that makes up Gill Tract is also prime real estate. UC Berkeley (the owner of the property) has been trying to close the farm and sell the land for commercial “development.” Though UC Berkeley has owned the land since 1945, UC’s recent and hostile stance against the farm has stirred community outrage. Astonishingly, the university has locked the farm gates numerous times, disrupted research, cut down orchards, thrown out honey bee hives, and kicked out community members with riot police. Thousands of community activists have taken drastic measures — including occupation farming — to save their beloved Gill Tract Farm. The controversy even inspired the documentary “Occupy the Farm.”

According to Jon, the farm manager, the fight isn’t over: “the farm was once about 100 acres…the university has sold the majority of it and wants to take the last 20 acres and pave it over in cement and make it into a giant parking lot to have a grocery store, a shopping center and to tear out all this agricultural land.”

It’s hard for me to believe that UC Berkeley would shut down the Gill Tract Farm when it provides multifaceted benefits to the community, but the farm doesn’t generate money; perhaps I shouldn’t be surprised since public universities are strapped for funding and routinely mismanage what they do receive.

Now, with almost zero funding from UC Berkeley, the farm needs help more than ever. Jon explains “there are a lot of ways that you can plug in or lend support to the farm. We are open Sunday through Thursday for volunteering, workshops and activities. Get down here, get your hands in the soil for a couple hours and I can guarantee you, you’ll leave here with a smile on your face. It’s a way to revive yourself physically and emotionally. And it’s a way to help out the community.”

If you’re not interested in getting your hands dirty or you’re not in the area, but you want to help the cause, Jon says, “people can call the UC and tell them to rethink their position on the farm; email the governor, the board of regents president Janet Napolitano, UC Berkeley Chancellor Dirks, Sprouts Market (the linchpin of the shopping mall). We really need support.”

Our community is only as strong as all our members and we can help each other significantly, but only with organizations like The Gill Tract Farm. Not only does the farm give the homeless population organic food, but progressive research on the grounds can (and has!) provided the larger community with sustainable agricultural processes. Plus, the farm inspires people to create food sovereignty, learn about plants, and retain a connection to the earth. People in the Gill Tract community don’t have to own a piece of agricultural land or have all the know how to reap the benefits of an established, thriving organic farm. This makes it vital to helping community members live well without a lot of funds — the very backbone of glamsient living!

For more information, check out the Gill Tract Farm Facebook Page.