Summer is booming along here in Northern Michigan – long days, swimming, thunderstorms, sunsets, and lots of fresh local produce. Heaven, basically. The Daughter of Godcast was launched two summers and one month ago, August of 2016. Now were a stone’s throw from the number 101, our next palindrome episode. Six months left to get the movie done in the Chinese year of the DOG, and five months before 2019.

I’ve discovered the unifying field theory, the spiritual Rosetta stone, a Twinkee made of pure light. The advent of a distributed utopia. What this podcast has been about all along. Process, right? That’s not news for devotees of the Daughter of Godcast.

This is probably a rehash of Buddha, Abraham Hicks, Alan Watts and ten thousand others,  but there’s also the glint of something new, the Shri Fugi Spilt perspective which perhaps might crack open the vault of your own inner treasures, a tad more. Maybe. If you’re ready. Tap YOUR ruby slippers together three times. Because there’s no place like home, and you’re already home, wherever you are. Which is sort of like what Buckaroo Bonzai brought into our shared gestalt, “Where ever you go, there you are”. Aka screenwriter Mac Rauch talking through actor Peter Weller, perhaps inspired by Lawrence Peter “Yogi” Berra and Confucius before him.

While we’re digressing, how did Yogi Berra get his nickname? According to ZellPinstripeblog “When he started playing in the American Legion baseball leagues, they had no dugouts or benches for the players. Berra used to sit indian style in the dirt with his arms and legs crossed. One of his teammates, Bobby Hofman, said he looked like a yogi (a hindu holy man), and the nickname stood.” So there’s that.

Podcasting indulges the guilty pleasure of fierce googling.

Still with me? The signpost up ahead, you’re entering… ok. Let’s focus. We’re taking a whirlwind tour of process today because we’re keeping the episodes svelte. And Now This!

English or perhaps American language has this bias, a built in self vs other perspective. I act on the environment, I do things. Me and you. Me and this fork, this camera. For some, me vs my body, like they can be seperate. Let’s start there.

Lately, like for the last year, I’ve been erasing the distinction between me and my body. I’ve been exploring being my feelings, my sensations, my experience. As opposed to having them.

That’s semantics, maybe. But what better game is there than rewriting the code of our conceptions? To tinker with inquiry.

This subtle shift means I have a richer me-ness, attending to sensation means I have less words and less words feels like more autonomy, more freedom. Your mileage may vary.

Fast forward to yesterday or maybe today, I now get that I am a process. I am not a human doing stuff, I am the doing. Doings. Language 1.0 might say it like this, “I drink water.” Version 2.0, I am the drinking of water. What does a drinking of water feel like? That’s the crux, right there. The question worth asking.

Why is this a breakthrough? Because by being a process instead of a bunch of components acting on each other, I get to go deeper. I am a deeper. Which is to say, I am more. Way more. Than ever I was before.

Sex magic, it get’s results. I mean c’mon! What’s the point of living the spiritual life or the introspective life or any life unless there’s some super humanity to be had? I want to be more. Don’t we all? The perspective o