Seek to realize the self —
the way, the poets say, is difficult.

We are situated in a cedar cabin
built on stilts over the water in a cove
a mile across Moser Lake from Deep Bay,
our mail drop, Deep Bay 99901.
Mail arrives weekly from Ketchikan,
25 miles by plane weather permitting.
Mid-winter-there is four feet of snow.

Elizabeth and baby Theo and I,
helped by friends, take to the woods
after reading Bradford Angier's
How to Live in the Woods on $10/Week.
With my last paycheck, income tax return
and promise of employment insurance
we should make out — hoping that
by discriminating use of ecological resources
most of our material needs can be met —

Selfless means to a selfless end,
as Ghandi put it.

So around this complex
our routine flows — all activities
merge in the pursuit, which deepens
here in Deep Bay.

Schedule remains firm.
Implementation of spiritual discipline,
Karma Yoga — wood and water
wood and water, wood and water.
Would you believe, wood and water?

Elemental — the meaning is subtle,
but we're only scratching the surface.
We have stored away necessary
supplies, several cords of wood
cut and split and stacked.
Now we improvise.

Awoke to a 14 foot tide, high
enough to float a forty-footer off
an abandoned logging donkey.
Tied on and rowed it to shore,
breaking a rib in the dinghy near the stern.
Tied up and came in for coffee.

Sometimes, I'm the ocean,
man—boat—ocean.
I wonder how hard the wind can blow.
Whips us from the east today.
Whitecaps in the cove, cedar bending.
Gulls motionless in the gale.
February is a windy month.

Can we use up our desires?
Not that we don't have sense cravings.
Food is Number One God here.
And Shelter.
And the twin god, a good pair of Boots.

Made a mixture of vinegar, water,
cloves, onion, garlic, salt, mustard,
sugar, ginger — for sauerbraten.
Put this mix and a venison roast
in a stoneware crock to marinate.

By the way, I'm told
Ramakrishna uses the simile of the ocean,
the ocean of sat - chit - ananda
the ocean of existence,
consciousness, bliss — dissolve
myself like a salt-doll in this ocean.

Lu Garcia writes from Berkeley,
"Things spin as they always spin."

Jon Springer, at this time, finds it
"fetid in the Ukrainian ghetto of 6th St.

How did I get from selling Berkeley Barbs
on Telegraph Avenue to this cabin?
The old personality breaks down, and
the world becomes pure — like Blake said,
as it is in infinity.

It is curious how some moves take
years to come about, but then
done with full support of mind & body
they move forward.

The wind gathers strength.
As weather delays delivery of oil,
as the Coleman stove is in parts,
we cook over a makeshift grate
in the Yukon oil drum heater.
Elizabeth achieves bliss of sourdough
chocolate cake, cerealmate bread,
venison strogfanoff, and fern frawns.

Living in the woods is a fruitcake idea.
Can others be influenced by seeing how
it's done? — expanding circle — friends,
town, state, country, galaxy, cosmos
returns me back to myself.

Snowflakes falling outside
and in my mind.
The temperature, 40 degrees.
Nothing sticks.

I roam the woods.
Tongass National Forest.
Sitka Black Tail Deer. Beaver. Squirrel.
A few bear.
Much spirit life.

While dark, I take to the woods.
When dawn cracks, I'm waiting.
I'm a good shot, felling my game
with a single round from a 30.30.
Death, sorrow, sort of unreal,
this tug of life and death.

Repression, exploitation —
leaving the city to avoid the establishment,
and, in turn, I become the Man.
Good weather, one clear day in thirty
in this rain forest — ego hunting — lots
of weird animals in the mind — the mind
itself a crazy monkey.

As I rave, the Governor of Someplace
makes money in real estate.
Dr. Leary attends Altamont, says
it is a lesson to be learned.
Theo and I float in our boat, while far away
Neil Armstrong takes his giant step.

Hunt and fish, wood and water.
Today, eight crabs in the trap.
Cut and stacked cedar blocks,
using the tide to move them to shore.
I came indoors to paint the cabinets
until Theo knocked over the paint can.
Put him down for a nap and read
a few chapters of Thomas Á Kempis.

Field studies:
Periculum aquillium
a perenial fern, local species "hog braken"
substitute for asparagus.
Theo gets up early to pick the frawns.

Tiarella trifoiata
Quileut "gwaqwlatcyu'l"
three leaves (qwal'l=3)
Chew for coughs.

Equisetum arvense
"field horsetail"
Used by Quinault to regulate menstral flow.

While reading this aloud, Elizabeth
starts her period.We have no ailments in the woods,
except when we go to town, we catch
the "Ketchikan crud."

A whirly-twirly, sunny day.
Here it rains 200 inches a year.
10% chance of rain means 10 inches of rain.
Made ice cream and had mincemeat pie
á la mode.

Watched a sea otter dive for crab.
The sky gualoises blue, the water
a shade of jade and now smooth.
Buds and bugs and migrating fowl signal
Spring —
I feel like pulling the doors from the jambs,
but I'm afraid of the ceiling falling down
from a ton of newspaper & mattress insulation.

Cut and split another cord of wood.
Supper of red snapper filets, scalloped
spuds, and sponge cake w/berry sauce.
We haven't seen a soul on the water
for days — grooving on the isolation.

By kerosene lamp I read Lone Wolf Smith's
letters to the Daily News,
always a revelation —

Not one new goat trail here.
What for our Poor People and trollers
more rotten Pinks from Creeks
and let Coho go?
Where o where is Gov. Hinkels
Better or Bitter way?

Not sure I want improvements.
Sit and watch the deer on the beach,
watch them turn their heads, twitch
their ears suspiciously.
A little bird settles on a branch,
listen to it sing.