Druid life, Druid love :
modern memoirs of a mystic journey
"My life on the coast would become a series of comings and goings- a migration of sorts, from the cancerous cosmopolitan clime, to the verdant lands full of sustenance and hope. I went out, time and again, to sift away the ore and try to find the living gold scattered thinly within the limitless dross. My peregrinations most often sprang from the hub of my movements, Vancouver, and widened out, covering from Northern California, up along the west coast of Vancouver Island, to the Queen Charlotte Islands, and into the Alaskan panhandle. It was in these places, where the mighty trees meet the pounding surf, that I held communion with the land and spirits therein, with the unique individuals who willfully populate these remote and untamed places, with God, and, most importantly ...with myself.
Were it not for these stretches of awe-inspiring, deserted, primordial wilderness, untainted nor scarred by the likes of men, I would surely have passed from this earth long ago. Were it not for the sweeping cedars, the awkward croon of the ravens, the peace of the eagle, the untamable spirit of the bear, and the freedom and abundance which is a gift of the sea, I would have gone crazy amongst a society for which I had grown sour early in life, and for which I held little need, little respect, and little expectation.
To wander amongst the great forests of the Pacific Northwest- or what little is left of them- is to live and grow under the glorious canopies of ancient hemlocks, towering Sitka spruces, and gigantic redwoods; it is to have the existences of these titanic organisms implanted within your very being, so that you become like a grafted branch, no longer yourself only, but a part of the land as well. And so to return to civilization is to be like a voyager from a forgotten world, containing the old vision and the new curse for mankind. To blend in and become one with the majesty of nature, is not only to know the peace and beauty of these colossal wonders, but also to become that very peace and beauty itself, and therefore to recognize from a different perspective the horrors of mankindís rapacity. ...
So I left my home and familiars like an Apache scout who sees the coming winter and the barren fields, sees the impending starvation and suffering, and wanders off to other lands in an attempt to find another place where food and shelter are plenty so as to later return for his tribe, that they might survive the long and merciless season.
And for that I became a lost and hungry man, wandering about in an empty wildland and not even knowing how to get home.
Yet it was there that I received the insights and inspirations which become possible only from taking a step away from the corporeal panoply and societal encumbrances which consume and debilitate body, mind and soul in the most subtle ways, such that one might not even feel themselves being overwhelmed until all clarity and repose are gone and no memory left of their absence. And that is an irreconcilable absence, which is why it was only at a removed distance that I could begin to understand the true nature of existence and my consecrated part within it.
And so the grand and virgin cedar forests and wild coast of British Columbia, dotted with softly tinted islands running out forever in the mist of the setting sun, would bring me to a voiceless, lonely rapture and open me up like a vacuum, sucking all of mankindís dross and memory from my core, for it was on this part of the great orb, amongst the magnificent forests, the crashing surf, and the unknowable wildness of it all, that I had become intoxicated with the earth.
I have never known such uncluttered beauty as exists out there on the coast. It must be how the soft light mingles up from the ocean and onto each successive island, until the sky is reached, and the panorama sits like a shifting water color of gentle hues composed of no color the mind can capture, for it is not a color, it is a feel. ..."
What the critics have said about Jack Haas' books:
"...very strongly recommended reading..." Midwest Book Review
"The Kerouac of the new millennium." Frank Wolf (author of Blind Bay)
"...inspires us to rediscover the mystery of ourselves..." Judine Slaughter (Express Yourself Books)
"...Read in awe." Benjamin Tucker (author of Roadeye)
"...groundbreaking..." Joanne Turner (The Messenger)
"...an embarrassment of riches..." George Fisk (author of A New Sense of Destiny)
"...poetic and stunning..." Nancy Jackson (Dog-Eared Book Reviews)
Books by Jack Haas
to see more about the books, click on the image.
THE WAY OF WONDER: a return to the mystery of ourselves
by Jack Haas ISBN: 0-9731007-0-2, ©2002
A groundbreaking exploration of the mystery of existence, assimilating many divergent paths and showing how these proceed toward the same hallowed destination- wonder. Nominated for a Pulitzer Prize, this is a book devoted to the miracle, awe, and beauty in all life. It is a book about the rapture of unknowing.
The autobiographical account of Haasí journey into the primitive wilderness of coastal British Columbia, and into the uncharted regions of the soul. A true tale of adventure, misadventure, alchemy, mysticism, wonder, and miracles. This is a prose masterpiece.