The Green Man Diaries

Apparently there has been some concern, but I assure you all I am still alive and in good health.  Even my knee pain has all but disappeared, and my riding improved tremendously, since I raised the seat on my bike by about an inch and a half.

Greg and I had a hell of a time getting to the city. We were hit with heavy rain for all of the second day, plus the bike route we were on led us ten miles in the wrong direction before we realized we should turn back. To add insult to injury, I got a flat and had to replace my front tube. The next day was more rain and another huge detour, but this one was at least going in vaguely the right direction, through the beautiful Catskills National Park. We stopped at an organic health food store, incongruously situated in Downsville, just as they were closing, and the proprietress graciously offered us crash space for the night on the back porch.

The next day we made it as far as Monticello, but with all the delays we wouldn’t have made it to the city in time had we not got a ride from Monticello to Suffern, courtesy of a friend of Greg who was also on her way into the city.  From there, yesterday, we biked the remaining 75km into the city – across the George Washington Bridge and down the trail on the west side – and I barely made it in time for the full moon gathering at the Chapel of Sacred Mirrors.

Alex Grey’s art is luminous enough on the printed page, but nothing can compare to confronting the massive original canvases.  It was an interesting paradox: I could now see the individual brush strokes, which connected the artworks to a more practical existence; and yet at the same time many of the paintings, particularly the Cosmic Christ, seemed to radiate a transcendental intelligence that comes across far more in person than in any artbook.  At any rate, the paintings were only a part of the mind-blowing decorations: archways were painted or lined with wings and eyes, and statues stood majestically against the walls.  It was against this background that the ceremony took place.

We opened with some chanting, then there were some short monologues, music and (surprisingly good) poetry recitals.  The theme for the evening was viriditas (“greenness”, the capacity for generating life and growth) and the Green Man.  This was convenient, as I was wearing all green and under the influence of mushrooms these kinds of things take on a certain significance that in other circumstances might be overlooked.

The concept of viriditas put a name to something I’ve been pondering for much of the trip.  One of the things that really struck me early on was terror – not fear of the challenges I might face, but fear my own power and agency.  Entirely on my own (for a suitable definition of “my own”), I had decided on, planned, and begun the execution of a monumental task.  On an unconscious level, I suppose, I’m used to having some superordinate authority supervising and dictating any such undertaking.  I thus experienced no small degree of cognitive dissonance: why was there no set route?  Why was there no “official” or “right” formula for me to follow?  Most of all, why was nothing stopping me?  The sense of total freedom was exhilarating but also deeply disturbing.

As I’ve continued on my way, and as I’ve come to terms with that sense of freedom, I’ve encountered some beautiful people who are striving to shape the world around them, who pursue their chosen works with joy and dedication.  That, I suppose, is how I understand viriditas: the innate power, inherited from the universe by every human being, to apply will and energy to any goal, however chosen.  As long as that attitude is maintained, the rest will sort itself out, for human ingenuity is boundless.

For the time being, my viriditas is devoted to getting me to Nevada and back in one piece; but once I’m back in Toronto, we’ll see where it gets applied.