Free of Limits > Zeni D'yo

Zeni D'yo, the art of the stack

September 10.

Goat Rock, Sonoma County.

Another four hours at Goat Rock. It's become addictive. This was one of those Nor*Cal afternoons that I'd hoped would go on forever: a blue sky, a mild ocean breeze, waves pulling pebbles across the beach, creating the sound of ten thousand rainsticks simultaneously spun, and wings flapping in the distance... it was easy to relax.
It was nearly 4:30 and plenty of time before sunset for Zeni D'yo. The stack above, my first, was up in under a half hour and stayed well past sunset. It is a three-stone tower that required a counter-weight on its lower shoulder. After an hour though, that rock fell and the tower didn't mind. It must have been enjoying itself and not looking for an excuse to tumble.

25/180+, 20/140+, 12/90+ 20/01 Up barely a minute! 20/35, 15/60+ 111kb

79kb

I snapped a dozen pictures at sunset and was encouraged to submit the one above for a local gallery show, tah-dah!
I get many comments about my apparently abundant patience, but in my experience, patience has nothing to do with it. The word "patience" implies some sort of endurance through time; a silent struggle against opposing forces, as if gravity were fighting against me.
Zeni D'yo lets that go and partners with gravity and with the stones to create a win-win accomplishment. If I trusted the "one side wins, the other loses" model, then patience would be required to endure the feeling of loss each time gravity pulled a tower down. When we partner in win-win mode, there is no need for patience because there is no sense of effort and no sense of loss.
It is a joy to witness the final moments of stillness as a stack collapses. One time, I was admiring a stack when a dragonfly landed on one of the stones and whoooosh, down it all came. Should I have been angry with the deva or ecstatic at the confirmation of precarious balance?
I still glow with a sense of "well done!" at witnessing that.

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September 11.

Russian Gulch, Sonoma County.

30/40 129kb 30/40 55/08 164kb
Russian Gulch, just north of Jenner, runs dry in the summer and provides ample materials for rock sculpture. The path from the parking lot leads through woods and opens into a creekbed that, any other time of year, would need to be waded across before being followed to the beach.
Today my intention was to confront the trigger that had set my mind into overdrive last month, so of course I chose the spot that every sunbather and beachcomber would have to walk near. I set my bag and cooler down at the end of the path and began my afternoon of Zeni D'yo.

20/60+

Building the first stack (35/60+) was excruciating: it seemed that every time the fourth stone was almost balanced, I'd hear voices in the woods, get distracted and down it all came. Then I'd look up just in time to receive a "what the hell are you doing?" look from the new visitors. oh boy...
How did I get over that? Easy. I didn't.
I sank into it and kept stacking away. Before I could discern if there was a deeper, older issue being stirred up, I fell in love
with what was really going on.

At this location, the stacks are more than a quiet meditation. They are living art, and I'm the artist!
Quite a few beach-goers stopped to comment and several took pictures. With each click of a shutter my in-joyment increased and very soon I found myself in "the zone", the peak of which can be seen above (55/08 pic).
With each passerby's "cool!" or "amazing!", the garden took on a life of its own and I began to appreciate the standing stone people independently from being of my creative hand.
Of course there's no deeper, older issue: the past is no longer real. The apparently deeper "issue" was simply my present time desire to push away all that churning internal energy. By looking at it, I found out that it wasn't real when I stopped pushing.
I took a deep breath, felt complete and noticed the silence between my ears and the hum in my heart.
I wouldn't trade this away for anything.


Another four hours at Goat Rock. It's become addictive. This was one of those Nor*Cal afternoons that I'd hoped would go on forever: a blue sky, a mild ocean breeze, waves pulling pebbles across the beach, creating the sound of ten thousand rainsticks simultaneously spun, and wings flapping in the distance... it was easy to relax. It was nearly 4:30 and plenty of time before sunset for Zeni D'yo. The stack above, my first, was up in under a half hour and stayed well past sunset. It is a three-stone tower that required a counter-weight on its lower shoulder. After an hour though, that rock fell and the tower didn't mind. It must have been enjoying itself and not looking for an excuse to tumble.
25/180+, 20/140+, 12/90+	20/01 Up barely a minute!	20/35, 15/60+ 111kb


30/40 129kb	30/40	55/08 164kb
Russian Gulch, just north of Jenner, runs dry in the summer and provides ample materials for rock sculpture. The path from the parking lot leads through woods and opens into a creekbed that, any other time of year, would need to be waded across before being followed to the beach. Today my intention was to confront the trigger that had set my mind into overdrive last month, so of course I chose the spot that every sunbather and beachcomber would have to walk near. I set my bag and cooler down at the end of the path and began my afternoon of Zeni D'yo.
20/60+	Building the first stack (35/60+) was excruciating: it seemed that every time the fourth stone was almost balanced, I'd hear voices in the woods, get distracted and down it all came. Then I'd look up just in time to receive a "what the hell are you doing?" look from the new visitors. oh boy... How did I get over that? Easy. I didn't. I sank into it and kept stacking away. Before I could discern if there was a deeper, older issue being stirred up, I fell in love with what was really going on.