Joy in the here is my chief engineer

Poet and filmmaker James Broughton wrote a memoir of his first 65 or so years, Coming Unbuttoned. Now I'm working on the Big Joy Project, which will be a website and a film about his life and times, and the whole idea of living Big Joy.

Malcolm Dorn and Lee and Ann Katzenbach helped me kick off the project at James's gravesite in Port Townsend, where James lived the last 10 of his 85 years and became known to many as "poet laureate" of the sleepy mill town which once saw itself becoming the Seattle of the Northwest.

Malcolm reads from Broughton's "Packing Up for Paradise" as dog Chester Wallydoodle crouches in excitement and we sip champagne

Rocky Friedman, owner of the Rose Theatre, is also helping me with the project. He found the amazing filmmaker Ian Hinkle, who jumped in right away and filmed our opening ceremony.

Ian Hinkle films Malcolm Dorn lighting candles at James Broughton's gravesite

I'm so grateful for all the support I'm getting for the project so far. (Don't worry, I'll be making a pitch for funding soon.)

It's a new dawn, a new day, time to give thanks

"Adventure, Not Predicament" is the epitaph on James Broughton's phallic stone marker. And, this poem:

In the arms of lover I
lie in eternity
clutching the secret of holy excess

Joy in the here is
my chief engineer
over and unto and once upon Yes

Joy in the here is
the nature of nature
touching the habit of daily caress

in the arms of lover I
leap in eternity
over and unto and once again Yes

Angels and Ancestors

Ten years ago I gave James Broughton this orchid for his 85th birthday. His life partner Joel Singer left it in our care; it hasn't stopped blooming

The Angels of Our Keeping

They are the keepers of our company
keeping us in touch keeping us in tune
They keep us widely awake to wonder
They are the keepers of our rash felicities

They keep love from growing decrepit
keep our limbs from going rickety
keep our hotblood from thinning out
They believe in the triumphs of the flesh

However beloved one day you may find
my parts scattered like those of Orpheus
my body dismembered by vexatious maenads
or literal-minded literati

Do not weep when you hold my shards
Put me back together one more time
as you have done many times before
and play my heartstrings in memory of our music

Even in my ashes even in my tomb
I shall be reconstituted by your love
thanks to our keepers who have kept us
metamorphosing in the marvelous

-- James Broughton

The yogic gardener Steven Shaun peers from behind James Broughton's gravestone at the cemetery in Port Townsend, WA, where he lived his last 10 years; if you click on the image you can read another poem, The Gardener of Eden

Today is James Broughton's birthday. He would have been 95.

For those who don't know, James Broughton (1913-1999) was a pioneer of experimental filmmaking, a central player in California’s creative beat scene, a bard of sensuality and spirituality, a preacher of Big Joy. (He called himself Big Joy in the last part of his life.)

Broughton was a poet in the tradition of Rumi, Hafiz, William Blake, Walt Whitman, and other ecstatic, Divine Trickster poets who trick, tempt, tease and seduce us into a direct, playful, and wondrous relationship with life, God, nature, and each other.

I was fortunate to have known James for the last 10 of his 85 years. And today, in Port Townsend, I'm formally kicking off The Big Joy Project, which will include a website, and film, and a biography of James. More to come on this, but if anyone feels moved to make a contribution to the project, it can be done through the White Crane Institute.

James and I 'mentored' each other: he asked for help with prose, I for help with poetry

Holding President Obama...

President-Elect Barack Obama has set a high bar for himself, and for the country.

We need it. We deserve it.

Though it may be simplistic, this video outlines many reasons why Obama was elected.

Our story needs to shift – from greed to compassion, from conflict to cooperation, from me to we. And we’re shifting it. But it won’t be easy.

It’s our turn now.

We need to hold Obama to his promises, yes. But as Van Jones has so eloquently stated, we also need to hold him.

He’s only human. As his grandmother’s death on the eve of his election reminded us, life is as fragile as it is miraculous and strong.

I must say McCain's concession speech was classy: "Tonight — tonight, more than any night, I hold in my heart nothing but love for this country and for all its citizens, whether they supported me or Sen. Obama — whether they supported me or Sen. Obama.

"I wish Godspeed to the man who was my former opponent and will be my president. And I call on all Americans, as I have often in this campaign, to not despair of our present difficulties, but to believe, always, in the promise and greatness of America, because nothing is inevitable here."

We need to start living our new story. Whatever small steps we can take. It’s time.