now is the time. go jump in a lake.

"I was in a boat with Maharajji and he told me to jump in the water.

I was afraid and said, "Maharajji, I can't swim. I'll drown."

Maharajji pointed to a high bridge and said, "If the right time has not come, you could jump from that bridge and not die."

As he said that I felt great faith and jumped in, and it was only up to my waist."

~Ram Dass on Guru Neem Karoli Baba

where.

where.

god visits in different forms--a stranger, a virus, a lover, a thief.
where were you the day you mistook passion for greed, lust for love, horror as beauty?
where were you the day you turned god away?

where.

~pieces of hermes alchemist

"Careful reflection of the barnacles and lead in one's life, when buffed through sorrow, joy and experience, reveal the nacre and gold that was always there.

This is life as Alchemy." ~Hermes Alchemist

for alex.

Wednesday, April 26, 2006
11:27 AM
for alex.
Hey folks. Just a few days ago I mentioned how I had to write a piece for my friend Alex as she was preparing for AIDS/LifeCycle last year. Seems she had to justify to her boss why she wanted to take a week of personal time to do AIDS/LifeCycle, why it was necessary. I really made me think about what the ride meant to me and made me feel as if I was accompanying Alex on her ride. I was really grateful for her request to make me stop and think about how necessary, transformative and beautiful the rides are.

Thank you, Alex, for that, and for your other numerous gifts of heart that I've experienced knowing you. I dedicate this ride to Alexandra Brucker, a two time AIDS/LifeCycle participant, a Honolulu AIDS Marathon finisher (a Switzer!), my friend.

Alex passed away last week at the age of 29. I'll miss her.

I spoke with Alex about a week ago. We talked about her life in Jackson Hole, about my upcoming ALC journey, about movies, chuckled about our lousy money situations, laughed out loud about the ugly painting of a foot she sent me--about how our dogs were the centers of our worlds. She was thrilled about her upcoming trip to see her friend Artie. It was an hopeful, comfortable, easy interaction.

Alex felt badly about not being in a position to donate to my ride. I've certainly been there! I told her that her support meant the world to me and was more than ample, but if she wanted to do something extra, she could buy me my favorite kind of Clif bar--that it would mean more to me than a thousand dollar donation. In her great efficiency, she was on it.

Three days later, I received a package. Inside, my favorite Clif bar and a framed photo collage of her experience riding last year. Her joy was tangible.

On the back, Alex wrote: For Craigers, love you always,xox aeb. I'm cheering for you! Yea! Go, Craig!! Have your own wonderful experience, and think of me along the way. I'll be with you."

Yes, Alex, you will. The wind at my back, as it were. (And Alex, I will need MORE than a little help, as I haven't gotten this sorry ass in the saddle very much this year....)

Thank you, Alex. I offer this ride to you, my beautiful friend with the acerbic wit, the bawdy laugh, the sad and hopeful eyes, and a heart enormously tender and loving. You've made a difference to me.

In trying to reconcile loss, in a world which can seem cold and inscrutable, I have found the words of the Dalai Lama to be of comfort: "Some people who are sweet and attractive, strong and healthy, happen to die young. They are masters in disguise teaching us about impermanence."

Again, thank you, Alex. Namaste. I honor the God in you.

Be at peace, be at peace, be at peace.

Xoxo craig

Welcome, Mystery. Sit down and tell me about you.

This practise of generating compassion and having loving kindness is said to be the best protection against demons. Milarepa was meditating in a cave in Tibet. In the sky before him he saw a cloud coming and from this cloud came the appearance of his teacher Lord Marpa and on seeing the appearance of his teacher Lord Marpa he became very happy and supplicated to Marpa for his blessing.

After this vision of Marpa he went off to collect some wood and generally, when he was collecting wood, he would put it in the bottom of his robes. Because of having done this over a long period of time a lot of tears had appeared in his clothes. Whilst walking along with the wood all of a sudden a big wind came up and almost blew the wood out of his hand, so he held on tightly to the wood. The wind blew again and almost blew the cloth away, so he held more tightly to the cloth.

Milarepa thought I have been meditating in a cave on ego-clinging and I still have a little bit of clinging and right at this moment I'm clinging to the wood and so he just let it all drop down. As Milarepa climbed up to his cave the wind became less. When he entered the cave to his surprise there were seven beings there and their bodies were the size of a thumb and they had very big heads, and their eyes were half the size of their heads and they had very long beards and large noses and they were sitting in the cave.

They ran all over the cave and one was sitting in Milarepa 's chair and looking through the pages of the texts, one was in the corner of the cave giving the appearance of teaching the Dharma and one was sitting there listening to him. The other couple were running around making noises, looking at Milarepa and making funny faces at him. Milarepa thought , oh there are a lot of them, and he was a little frightened. he thought he had better do something and he prayed to the Buddha, but as he prayed nothing really happened there wasn't much benefit because they were still there making their clucking noises at Milarepa, making faces at him and frowning.

Then he thought I better try something else so he visualised himself as a wrathful deity and said wrathful mantras, he said Hung Hung Peh Peh and became a wrathful deity, but the demons multiplied and became more. They became so many they were jumping around and the cave became full of these demon creatures.

Milarepa thought, what I can do, what method can I apply here. The idea occurred to him that maybe these creatures were apparitions from the local deity. Maybe I have been here such a long time and haven't made any prayers to the local deity maybe it is upset with me. So he made some nice offerings of wood and sang a song of praise to the local deity saying how nice he was and praising him and what happened was two of the demons disappeared but the others were just as made and crazy as before running around all over the cave.

Then Milarepa thought nothing I do seems to help. Then he generated compassion for these beings who did not know the nature of emptiness; they don't know this truth or how to cause benefit for sentient beings. All they can do is cause harm and because of this continuously causing harm to beings they are sowing the seeds of a rebirth in hell. He had great compassion arise in him and he sang another song. Milarepa said in this song everything is fine, whatever you want you can have it, if you want to eat my flesh you can eat it, if you want to drink my blood you can drink it. Anything you do to me is fine.

He asked them stay in his house and said he would talk to them. Milarepa sang this song from the doorway of the cave whilst the creatures were running around inside. Milarepa then vanished from the doorway and re-appeared inside the cave. One of the creatures was there shaking and making a lot of noise and the other demons were running around but one by one they dissolved into him and he became very large.

Finally the last big remaining demon ran out of the cave.

They were not able to harm Milarepa, what was the reason for this?

It was because he generated this great compassion. Before Milarepa did not have compassion for them and he had gotten a little bit annoyed with them and they multiplied, but when he generated the compassion they all run off.

same old head in brand new light. 

Hope is born on a Vermont backroad...

Ricci, Michelle, Assorted Gutterbunnies. Montreal, 2001.

"What a Wonderful World..."

Hi Friends/Family/Countrymen…

Just a quick hello from the land of the employed! I’m back at work and, wow, does it take stamina to stand up for 50 hours a week! And Amoeba is an amazing, energetic, vortex of all things San Franciscan —a spot where hippies who never left the Park after the Be In, punks with pit bulls, yuppies, hipsters, seniors and teens come to feed their souls and keep themselves humming. A place where my first customer was a man head to toe in fluorescent orange with a hot pink bike asking if he could lick me. (??!!) After six months of unemployment stress and inertia, the change in lifestyle/pace is taking some getting used to. I don’t think I’ve seen any of my friends since I started. Fugee has, however, beenenjoying long naps with me on my days off.

So what’s the logical choice when you’re exhausted?

Start running again! Yup, this Gemini on a deadline does much better to make himself get out of the exhaustion of too little time and energy, and to run. Weird how expending energy gives so much more.

I wanted to take this time to just reflect on a strong emotional flood of memories, sorrow, compassion, and hope that I went through earlier this evening. It’s AIDS/LifeCyle 4 Eve—the ride starts tomorrow morning at 6 am and continues seven days and 575 miles down to LA—a journey I’ve pedaled three times, and worked as a staff member for twice.

I’ve had quite a journey with the rides. From a concerned person who didn’t really know anyone with HIV but wanted to help others affected by catastrophic illness, to a person who started losing friends and acquaintances, to a person who found out that they were living with AIDS at the Southern California beneficiary of the rides. As a Positive Pedaler, regaining my personal power, hope and health by redefining the possible. As an example of living with intention and integrity, without shame, compromise or apologies, facing fear and accepting each day as a wonderful present/Present.

I am alive because of these rides. And there are thousands more like me, so fortunate to have been given the gift of unconditional love and compassion by those willing to do something so wonderful, painful, crazy, difficult as riding a bike so far and raising so much money.

I wish I could thank the 10,000+ people involved in the rides I participated in, rides which saved so many lives. And all those who continue to ride and fundraise when AIDS is no longer a fashionable cause, where religion still tries to attach stigma to an illness, where complacency is more the norm.

Thank you Alex, Ricci, Michelle, Diane, Beth, Cal, Redge, Michael, Jane, Susan, Cal, Lisa, Renata who continue the fight to end the pandemic and human suffering caused by HIV. You are heroes.

What prompted all this nostalgia?

Seeing good friends excited to be leaving on a ride again, some nervous about their first ride and a journey of unknown endurance/fatigue/hope/celebration, to friends who’ve been riding since the early 90’s and still pedal on.

Feeling deep nostalgia and a touch of regret at not being on my bike with them this year.

And the emails from friends. I’m attaching my friend Ricci’s email. It made me cry. A lot. Haven’t done that in a while. But not from sorrow. From beauty. What a wonderful world.

I ask you to send wishes for safe riding, warm tailwinds, and good karma/vibes the way of the extraordinary folks participating in AIDS/LifeCycle 4 tomorrow.

Thank you, AIDS/LifeCycle friends. Thank you, friends and family.

You are the beauty which is our world.

Peace.

Craig


Below, an email received from Ricci Treffer, a woman I was so fortunate to have worked with at California AIDSRide, and to have ridden with in the Canada/US AIDS Vaccine Ride. You'll sense her enormity of spirit and enduiring commitment by reading her beautiful words.


Aloha friends,

This time next week we will touch down in San Francisco to once again begin our amazing journey to fight AIDS. I've been out of commission for the last couple of days, fighting a pesky cold, and was forced to slow down and reflect on why I'm doing the Ride again this year. We've had a whirlwind of a year so far with work, training, fundraising, moving etc. and it can get a bit overwhelming, and I guess it's no wonder I sometimes lose sight of why we do this ride. You're the lucky ones on the receiving end of this somewhat lengthy message, so bear with me.
To all of you, who have helped out, with donations, encouragement, moral support and more - THANK YOU! We couldn't do this without you all!

The first time I rode was in 1999. I had seen the ride go by the year before - an endless string of people on bikes. People from all walks of life, all ages, all sizes, all colors. I saw Love and Hope on wheels. I had never considered myself an athlete and dabbling around on my $300 hybrid bike was what I considered a workout. 585 miles is an unimaginably long way-especially on a 25+ pound hybrid bike. Especially when the furthest I had ever ridden was 15 miles, which had just about killed me. But I was ready for a challenge, and I was ready to break out of my world of self-pity and heartbreak and focus my energy on something that wasn't about me. I wanted to do something extraordinary. I wanted to give back to the community and this seemed like a significant way to do that.

I didn't know-or, I should say, I wasn't aware that I knew-anyone who was HIV-positive or living with AIDS. I knew it was an epidemic, an incurable and fatal disease, but it hadn't yet touched my life directly.

My training began in December, and for the next seven months I was either at the gym or on my bike 5-6 days a week. The motto "Eat, Sleep, Ride" became my mantra. Or rather, "Eat, Sleep, Panic, Ride, Fundraise, Panic"-that was probably more like it, especially as the ride drew closer. But I knew I was only going to do this once, and that when I reached L.A. at the end of the ride I could go back to my quiet, self-centered life.

What I didn't know was how deeply the ride would affect me, and what a different person I would be at the end of it.

During that week I experienced a sense of community unlike any other. Everyone was so open and so kind to one another. Even when I wasn't with my friends, I never felt alone, or lonely. Strangers cheered for me, encouraged me, smiled and told jokes and sang songs. I felt safe and I felt like we all belonged-and how often does one feel that in out in the "real world"? For hundreds of people to be so kind of their own volition (and for an entire week) was something I had never experienced. Love and Hope travelling in tight quarters.

It enabled me to let my guard down. Not only was I able to laugh freely with strangers, I was also able to cry. So as I pedaled along those endless roads, through farmlands and cities, over foggy hills and through hot, dusty valleys, I started looking at all the symbols of loss people carried with them. The red ribbons, the photographs, and the names. So many names. I remember one banner that extended so far behind the rider-so long to make room for so many names. There must have been at least 20 names on that banner. I couldn't imagine the pain of losing so many friends. This was no longer about statistics-this was about people's friends and spouses, people's brothers, fathers, sisters, uncles, mothers, sons and daughters, nieces and nephews.

It was also no longer about me. For what were my complaints in the midst of all this loss? So I got dumped-so what? So my butt hurt-so what? So my bike weighed 10 pounds more than everyone else's-so what? So there was a knot between my shoulders that felt like a small boulder-so what? These were all temporary pains, insignificant among so much grief.

But alongside this sadness, there was also a sense of profound happiness and gratitude. Gratitude for being alive and healthy. Gratitude that the simple act of riding a bicycle could make such a profound impact. And pride in everyone around me-the fact that 1,999 other individuals also chose to act, and not simply stand by hoping somebody else would do something.

On the final day, as we rode through Malibu, we saw a woman standing at the side of the road holding a single balloon. She was cheering all of the riders, and when we stopped to wait for the light to change she asked if we would carry this balloon with us. "It's for my son." she said. My friend took the balloon from her, giving her a big hug, and carried it with him the rest of the way.

To this day, whenever someone asks what the ride means to me, that woman comes to mind. It's as if that simple request, and the act of carrying that balloon, defines what the ride is for me. It's about caring for others. It's about not forgetting. It's about giving hope to someone's mother. And doing all that we can because we can. Hope and love is truly what the ride is about for me.

Six years later, I'm picking up the Maui Newspaper. The headline reads 'Maui Highschool will show gay film'. A video to teach the importance of tolerance and respect for diversity. The article mentions how students will be required to have a permission slip to watch it and how a number of parents excluded their children from watching it. I feel sadness and anger and mostly frustration. And I know that I have an opportunity to raise awareness and educate. 1,500 riders of all walks of life, all colors, all shapes and all sizes will travel in harmony, in peace, in understanding, in unity. For one week, this event will be what the world should be at all times. And maybe, just maybe, there will be a group of elementary school kids selling cookies or cheering us on. And maybe, just maybe, one less young adult will become an HIV infection statistic and one less kid will be bullied for being different and unique. Hope and Love.

So we will keep riding. Thank you for joining our team. While we're getting ready to box our bikes, pack our bag, get a housesitter, and finally, finally, make the first pedal stroke of countless to come, please follow along by visiting our websites at:

www.aidslifecylce.org/5282 for Ricci, www.aidslifecycle.org/5281 for Michelle, or www.aidslifecycle.org/539 for Team Maui Mana

Thank you again for all your kindness and support. It's going to be an amazing journey.

Warmest Aloha,

Ricci
Cyclist # 5282
Team Maui Mana
'Powered by Aloha'

'Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world - indeed, it's the only thing that ever has.' - Margaret Mead

... to the creation of AIDS/LifeCycle in 2003. The journey goes on...

...to becoming a Rider Rep at California AIDSRide...

...as the featured rider in the premiere issue of AIDSRide Magazine...

...to closing ceremonies as a Pos Ped with great friend, Lorna Turner, my coworker at Virgin Entertainment...

to riding in to Malibu in 1999, as a proud, fast Positive Pedaler...

The journey begins in 1995 with a luggage tag...