My knee is swollen. It looks like I am smuggling a baseball in it. Like as if baseballs were illegal. I hiked 6 miles today in 95-degree heat, took a dip in a creek, ate chili and hot dogs for dinner. I showered out the back of the van, real fast like cause I forgot to fill my tank with water. Well I didn’t actually forget, I just figured I wouldn’t need to shower. Why on earth I thought that I’ve no idea. The skinny dip in the creek would of sufficed for a bath had I had some soap. My new “all-natural” aluminum free deodorant does not work as well as the label says it does. Still, the creek would have been enough if the rest of the hike wasn’t 3 miles long with 1000 feet of elevation. Sweated like a skinhead in Compton one might say.
I’m now in the back of the van, with two little but mighty fans blowing their hearts out on me. I’m at the Indians, just on the other side of Fort Hunter Leggat in the Los Padres National Forest. The Indians or also known as The Wagon Caves is an abstract rock formation bubbling out of the ground on a wide valley floor. I’ve been out here a dozen or so times, first for rock climbing back when I was married and then just to get away and do a sweltering in the heat. About 3 or 4 years ago a fire burnt this place to nothingness, now it is lush and green and new oaks stand 6 feet tall. I’m not sure what it is about this place, but I enjoy it. There are 2 campgrounds towards the end of the road here and dispersed camping before that.
I am dispersed camped, turned off the first road I saw when crossing over the boundary line from Army base to National Forest. The spot I picked is fine, nothing special and actually a little too slanted but I am too tired to find another a better one. When I originally chose this spot it was in the shade of a large oak, excuse me, a large live oak, it still has green leaves - my ex taught me this (she was a lernt woman, did the college
and grad school, did the things smart book people do). Now the sun has set some and it is beating down on the side of the van, it makes me think this is what Superman’s laser eyes might feel like. It’s like I’m in a tin can that has been sitting in the desert for a millennium. I just looked at the thermostat and it said 89-degrees in here…
I had plans to camp in Zion but I wasn’t feeling it, my emotions have been all over the place as of late and camping in that heat with a friend, I wasn’t up for it. After canceling that campsite I got online and scored a site in Yosemite, not on the valley floor but up above in the Tamarack campground. But the day before I was to leave I aggravated an old knee injury which forced me to cancel that reservation. Needless to say, I wasn’t supposed to leave town when I was wanting to. It’s the weekend before my birthday and I was hoping to do something for myself, nothing big, just do something I love doing, living out of my van. There’s a part of me that wishes I could do this full-time, maybe not take a trip cross country again but to go from town to town, working and exploring. Too bad I’m not computer savvy, I’ve not the brains or the patients for such work and a roaming painter isn’t always sought after.
Anyways, Friday night my friend January had said that Yosemite would have been the best for this coming Saturday cuz there is a meteor shower happening. I had remembered reading about it and wanting to be in the desert to see it but then had forgotten like I do most things, I’ve the memory of a goldfish. But upon hearing this I thought, “I’ll go to the Indians, do a little hike, eat some dinner and watch the meteor shower.” I would get to live a teeny tiny bit of what I had been planning. Use that new hiking backpack I bought. Put some miles on that new engine I just put in. Get some alone time in nature. Disconnect from my cell phone. Do some reading and writing. Like I could do all the things I love excluding the mountain biking. Like how many people in this world get this opportunity, to do what they love doing. I’m guessing not many, 7 billion people in the world, ½ of them 18 or older and what, maybe a 1/3 get to live their dreams. That’s about 1 in 7 for the mathematically challenged. I am very fortunate…
The sun is finally setting, the van cooling off some and I am sleepy. I’ve still 2 hours till dark and maybe another hour or two before the meters start showing up. I wonder if I’ll make it or will I close this computer, slink down into the bed and slowly drift off to sleep. Both sound magical right now. Maybe I’ll go climb up on the roof, lay down on my little patch of grass up there and catch a tiny nap. Wake in the middle of the night to a light show or maybe sleep the whole night through and wake tomorrow morning with a fresh layer of morning dew across my brow.
~
Well neither of those scenarios took place. I managed to stay awake, went up to my grass patch and laid there watching the stars slowly appear. They appeared one by one but about every 10 minutes or so I would recognize that there were more. The minutes crept by and eventually it was dark. I saw a few meters, like 4 or 6. Steaks of light flying through the sky at an unfathomable speed. The steaks didn’t last long, in the blink of an eye they were gone. At around 10:30 I decided to call it.
As I laid there for those 2 hours watching the stars I wondered if those were blistering suns to other planets and if there was a race similar to ours surviving in the cosmos. I wondered about the kid that stole my rusty yellow rickety tandem, wondered if when he gets out if he is going to change his life. He was in his early 20’s, actually apologized to me as leaned against the cop car in cuffs. I thought, “Hardened criminals don’t apologize, hopefully he never becomes one.” I laid there regretting not asking the cop to let me talk to him, could have told him I used to be him and if got clean he could have an amazing life. I mean you must be loaded or the worlds dumbest criminal to steal a 1974 Schwinn yellow tandem in a town the size SLO.
I think the most beautiful part about laying up there and all the thoughts that grew was that none of them were about me and what I wanted or needed. They were about mystery and kindness and prayers for others (literally saying a little prayer for my daughter that she finds her footing and lives more in acceptance). I get so self-consumed on a daily basis, but out here, all the desires of me get washed away, I feel as if I have everything I need. And I do. I have housing and food and adventure. Clothes and water and coffee. Low cell service, my computer and a few books. I’ve my bikes, memories, and love. I really do not need more than this. One would think companionship should be in there, but that is not a need, that is a want.
I’ve wanted companionship my entire life. In the beginning it was cuz I wanted to be loved by someone, towards the teen years is cuz I wanted to be loved by someone and wanted to have sex. Into the 20’s and so on was cuz I wanted to love someone, which turned into saving someone. My mother was a wreck and needed saving. She never sought it or asked for it often to my recollection, but she needed it. Her life was unmanageable and so were her emotions and in turn I gravitated towards those types of women. That’s what I knew as love. It only took me almost 50 years, but now I know it differently. Yet don’t get it twisted cuz that doesn’t mean I always choose well grounded women.
I was told once that if you love yourself enough you will not need someone in your life. You’ll be able to exist without a relationship to fill last little bit of void in you. That void will be filled with the self-love you have. I’ve had sell-love for a while now. I thought I had it long ago and I did, ‘bout half a teacups worth. Self-love is like self-esteem, it slowly grows over time pending on how you nurture it. For me the most growth happened in the last 7 years. In the last 7 years I started choosing me over everything and everyone else. It wasn’t a selfish choosing, just a choosing in a way that filled my heart, I stopped compromising myself. I was doing quite good at it too for a long while. Although eventually I got emotionally involved with someone and that started to change. It happens. We fall in love and start to try and change to fit together, to manage a relationship. What I didn’t know was that I actually started to compromise myself, who I was. Being as I have never been 100% selfless in a relationship, I didn’t really know how to do it. So I handed over more than I should have. I learned that if you choose self over someone else’s wishes and they truly loved you, they will hold ne resentment towards you… attachment is a fickle beast.
I don’t know if I will ever meet someone and have that “for the rest of my life relationship”. Not that I am opposed to it, I just don’t know if it’s in the cards for me and I’ve accepted that. Maybe that life is not for me. I’m not trying to not will that into my life, but I also try not to hope, wish and desire for anything, those actions just lead to suffering (the Buddhist in me appears). I’ve a close friend that feels if you put it out into the universe it will come to you. You have to use that energy to create it, you have to manifest it. And she says you must be very specific when you put it out there. Don’t just put it out there that you are going to win the lotto, hitting 2 numbers is winning. Don’t just put out there you want a relationship, you might come across a dog or cat. Be specific she says.
I have tried this, many times over in my life, especially for love. I’ve tried it for safety, I’ve tried it to stay clean, I’ve tried it for happiness. I graveled for it, prayed, begged and pleaded – but it came to no avail. For me it took acceptance and work. I have not been given much of these things in life, I had to earn most everything through hard work and perseverance. No new car fell in my lap, no heathy relationship, no riches. Yes, some opportunities have appeared by a divine powers grace, but they came with the work I was putting in. I don’t know, maybe I am getting it wrong, maybe she means you must work towards it and have that positive attitude that the desires will come. That’s probably what she means. I take things very literal, the simple minded ones do that.
And now I wonder, how did I end up here. It feels like I’ve ADD when I write, one thought leads to another and to another and next thing you know, next thing you know they all tie in together. Kinda like my life. Through all the ups and downs, the good and bad, it has all tied itself together with a pretty bow on top. I couldn’t begin to tell you how fortunate I have been, I can’t even believe it myself sometimes. Truth is though, you ask some people close to me and they will tell you I’ve the worst luck anyone has known and this might very well be true. But even if it is, I don’t see it like that, I see it like I am one of the luckiest fools alive.
I need to leave the world behind more often, I need to do what feeds my soul and doesn’t just pay the bills or honors the phone. I would really love to live like this full-time if I had a job and all, something to keep me busy. I would really love to work on a ranch, muck stalls and feed horses, fix fences, feed chickens and spend hot afternoons in the shade of a barn watching the grass grow. But who’s going to hire a 49-year-old guy with a bum knee and great hair. I reckon if it’s meant to happen it will. Fortunately I’ve belief that everything happens the way it’s supposed to.
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