Day one is done, SLO to LA, 205 miles. 205 miles is the perfect amount of driving. One could do 300 all the same, but beyond 300 something shifts in the how you feel and what see and don’t see. At least that is how it is in my older age. I do know when I was in my 20’s and doing this I could do 500 flat with no problem. Road tripping should never be about when you need to get to where you are going, timelines take the simplicity and wanderment out of it all, the spiritually scientific exploration. I know this to be fact, I’ve road tripped over 50,000 miles in my lifetime, maybe 75 or even 100,000 – probably not 100,000. No matter the milage, I know a little bit about traveling by motor vehicle. I know a little bit about doing it in a 1969 Datsun 510 station wagon, a 1983 Toyota long bed truck with camper shell, a 2013 Dodge truck with a cabover camper, and presently a 2017 Dodge Ram van camper conversion that I’ve put 100,000 on… Maybe I have rubbertramped a 100,000 over my lifetime.
This is the first road trip since my big trip 2 years back. I’ve had a few short jaunts to LA and a camping trip for a week, but that was it. My soul has settle some since that big trip and I do not yearn for the road as I once did.. Well, that and the fact that rebounding from a 4 month long journey took a little longer than expected. Come to find out shutting down your business for that long makes it a tad bit difficult to recapture the cliental and the monies spent. The trip itself cost roughly 4500 if I remember correctly, the money lost not working was 4 times that amount, maybe more. I was fortunate to have had the means and courage to take that trip.
I think some people might look at that trip I took and think I am rich, or it was an easy feat to accomplish, it wasn’t by any means. There was no choice in taking the trip, I had to go. I had to search myself and scratch the itch that had been plaguing me for decades. I had to be willing to risk all I’ve worked for over the last 18, risking my stability, security and livelihood in a huge leap of faith (And yeah, I know, I shout from the roof tops that security is an imaginary thing we make up cause we fear the unknown and change, but in our neurosis it is real and in times of so called trouble, I too fall into the lie that everything is going to stay the same no matter what).
I elevated so many issues with myself by taking that trip, walked through so many fears, faced myself and the destruction I cause in my life, I did what I thought was impossible. I am beyond fortunate to have lived that experience. And now today, on this trip, again beyond fortunate to be driving to my sisters for Thanksgiving.
Now 2 things have come to mind with that last paragraph. One, I use the word fortunate instead of blessed cause I see blessed as something intangible, a deeper gift from God. I see fortunate as being a result of surviving sections life and reaping small fortunes for it.
The other thing that came to mind is about an hour out of SLO I started thinking about this drive I am making to Austin and how it’s going to be long and possibly a bit boring. My zest for solo travel has waned some, maybe even a lot. Maybe it’s age, maybe it’s cause that itch was scratched and my soul has settled, maybe it’s cause I’ve met someone, whatever it is, something has changed me. Well, that and the drive through west Texas is soooooo loooooong.
But we will let all that go and be here now, and right now I am sitting in front of Blythe’s house waiting on my daughter to arrive. I get to spend the afternoon and evening with her. Now here is where I am blessed, to have her in my life. I don’t say this too often to people that don’t have kids, but having a child is by far the greatest experience of my life, it trumps getting clean. I know, if I wasn’t clean, I wouldn’t have any of this, especially her. But the love, the devotion, the magic of having a child, nothing compares to it. I feel like the luckiest man alive being her dad, my life would have been incomplete had she not been in it…
So now I wait, maybe clean the van a little, maybe repack some things, crack open a book and take a cat nap. This moment is quite grand, and I am grateful for it.
~
It’s now 5:15 on day two. I am posted up in bed, back against the headboard, under a few covers that feel like I was sleeping under a weighted blanket. I’ve my little twinkle lights glowing and warm coffee by my side. The coffee tastes different in the van, as it does at the Madonna Inn, as it does at my house, as it does at Jenni’s. I can appreciate the change in the taste every time I get to have a cup.
Van coffee is two scoops decaf ina pour over and one Starbucks instant, always with a little chemical Coffee Mate and a spot of sugar. Coffee has been in my life since joining NA in 1998 and has always played a pivotal role ever since. Whether it was to wake with, before meeting meet ups, late night Denny’s trips after meetings, working steps, after dinner at the holidays, mid-day pic me ups, coffee has been there for so many amazing moments in my life. I look back to all the hours I’ve spent with friends, talking, laughing, processing my feeling and experiences – I’ve been so blessed to have each and every one of those moments.
Now coffee reminiscing aside, I’ve a drive today. I think it’s roughly 500 miles to Tucson, the drive my 20something self woulda loved, the drive my 50 year old self is not particularly fond of right now. I know, be in the moment, do it one mile at a time, stop and take pictures, through rocks and ponder cacti’s, snack like a mouse, drink fizzy water and be one with the road. I will do these things and hopefully get lost in the beauty of being alive and present.
Like I said, timelines when road-trip’n are hogwash, but Austin, Texas beckons me buy a certain date. It is Saturday today and I must arrive by Tuesday, Wednesday we are getting BBQ from some real swell spot, and I cannot miss the smoked brisket, it is to die for.
~
Tucson morning 6:37 and I am heartbroken… I had just spent the last 2 ½ hours writing, coming across so many ideas and views, so connected to everything and it didn’t save, and it has crushed me. I got back to the love of the road and all the desolation one comes across while out here. All the beauty of the afternoon 4 o’clock hour in the fall, the quiet of the desert, the
remembering of what really matters in life. And it’s all gone, lost to the cosmos, this saddens me more than having my bike stolen a few weeks back. My writing means the world to me, whether it’s ever read by anyone or not. My writing is me, it’s what defines me, opens me, gives me life. I’ve written since I was 15, I’ve never not kept a journal, I’ve never not put words to all my experiences.
And when I write something that I feel has merit, that is worth sharing, it fills me with a happiness that is indescribable. That last 2 hours of writing had a lot to do with being connected to the moment and seeing the beauty of life and all the experiences we get. It was about being present now and not living in then or what’s to come. It was about how this life I’ve been so blessed to live is not guaranteed and death awaits us all right around the corner. It was about all the beautiful things and now it is all gone and it breaks my heart. Take the money, take the toys and all the things, but don’t take my soul, don’t take my heart. I could have nothing and be nothing so long as there is paper and pen in my hand. I need nothing to be happy, none of us need anything to be happy, not even each other. Although I do love you and want you in my life, even those I get annoyed with. You, you too are special to me, to know anyone is this world and see their true nature, the one underneath the pain and fear and ugliness of living in such a difficult world is a gift. How sad I am right now.
I’m tell’n you, what I had written would have changed your life (said with much humoristic laughter). I think so highly of myself sometimes its hilarious. Like my writing is that special, like my view of life is that amazing and all the things I think and say really have weight in this world.
I guess what is done is done, there is no going back and what is meant to be will be. All the cliches, all the things we tell ourselves to move forward and let go of what was. We want to capture feelings and hold them close in fear of not feeling them again, forgetting that the reason moments are so fast and fleeting is to make room for more. Some better, some worse, but more will always come till it’s time to move on from this world.
I am now in the frame of mind that I might not post any of this, that it’s been ruined by a computer that is acting up. One small instance to change my outlook and joy of what I am doing, how horrible for me. Me, the guy who is always talking about being in the moment, stuck in what happened 15 minutes ago. I am now feeling like I am beating a dead horse. I can tell you that I did mention a Taoist parable in what I had written. It is about a farmer’s son who breaks his leg, and all the villagers see it as bad luck, he is no longer able to help in the fields. Then the army comes to the village to recruit all the young men to fight in a war and they leave the boy behind due to his broken leg and all the villagers see it as good luck. We don’t really know why things happen the way they do and maybe losing all that content was for a reason. Maybe I was just supposed to experience it all for my own growth, to change my perception about this drive to Texas.
It's 7 o’clock, I’ve been up since 3:30 and I’m 2 cups down in the coffee department. The sun is up, and trails await. The 500-mile journey of yesterday is done, I saw my niece last night, checked out a sweet bike shop, might even buy a bike from them today. I guess sometimes, all times, we must press forward and let go of all that was. I hope you all have the best day ever and it’s filled with more love than fear.
~
I’ve had that loss of yesterday morning playing around in the crevasse of my mind. It’s so naturel to want to throw the baby out with the bath water isn’t it. Like this didn’t work, or that sucked, so let’s just toss everything into the river of no more and watch it float away. Talk about living in extremes - the ramifications of being human.
I’ve those thoughts every so often, the ones that seem completely absurd when grounded and in surrender. I haven’t acted on such passing thoughts in quite some time for as much as I can recall at this moment. First thought wrong does not happen often, my first thought in a reaction moment is more often the correct one.
Tucson to Deming, New Mexico happened yesterday, not a bad drive, a little desolate but good. I had ridden yesterday morning in Tucson, got a couple pics, nothing of a Pulitzer Prize level tho.
The trails seemed to have gone uphill in both directions, that’s what you get when you are mountain biking in the desert most always. Theres’s mountains here but just not as many as there are elsewhere in the states. It was a beautiful ride though; the desert has a quiet about it that is settling to the soul if you capable of taking it all in.
I was listening to a podcast on the drive to Deming yesterday, podcasts are something I really don’t care for but try out every so often for something different to listen too. This one was an interview with Matthew McConaughey, interesting guy for sure. He’s a bit out there, living to the beat of his own kazoo while traveling on an intergalactic space machine in the form of a VW bus. He had said something interesting about being who you are and owning it. Word for word I couldn’t tell you what it was, but it revolved around owning who you are, maaan. It had to do with having confidence in being you, not unapologetically nor apologetically either, just being who you are, and owning it.
It got me to thinking about myself and how I had never done that most of my life, I had always been self-conscious about being bold. I was afraid of not fitting in and not being accepted. I’ve none of that today, self-acceptance came into play a while ago.
There is also a healthy amount of ego that goes along with owning who you are. It helps you shine in a world of bright lights, something of which I had, but just in the opposite direction. I had that negative ego, that one that says you are nothing and will always be nothing. That negative ego has plagued me my entire life, into recovery and through a good part of my recovery, and it is even present in my life today at times.
At times I wonder how you see me. I don’t really care and it’s none of my business of how I am seen or even thought of, yet still, when I do start obsessing on myself, well, these thoughts cross my mind at times. I’ve never seen myself as special or unique, as smart or wise, sexy or attractive. I no longer see myself as the antonyms of those adjectives which is pleasing, but I don’t see myself in a bright light. It’s not in my nature nor has it ever been in my nature to shine, to be front and center, to gloat or boast of who I am or my experiences or accomplishments.
I think maybe if I had some ego or the conviction in myself that McConaughey spoke of, to be who I was earlier on in life, maybe I could of made more of my talent, this whole writing thing. Not saying I am good at it, but that I have the ability to do it, even if it is at times repetitive nonsense that feels like I am vomiting onto a once beautiful, pure, white page. But my 20's and 30's was a long time back, can’t say I regret not owning me then, but I do wonder if doing so would have changed my trajection in life. I attribute this type of daydreaming to the desire of escape from the present moment and the reality of one’s life lived. Not bad or good to do so, just how it is. Labels get us nowhere.
My childhood friend lives here in Deming, I hadn’t seen him in 20 years I suspect. We met when I was 10, he lived on the block behind mine. We were thick as thieves for a long time, then faded apart and came back together and faded apart again. When I moved to get clean, I had to abandon that friendship, along with many others. I wasn’t too keen on doing so, but I would not have been able to stay clean if I kept that contact.
Sergio was big growing up, 6’1”, 200+ pounds. He was smart and artistically gifted; he also carried a lot of anger and was violent at times. He was a big brother to me, I looked up to him like I did most of the fellas I hung with, I was the youngest by a couple years. Seeing him last night, I didn’t see the same man. I saw this kind, thoughtful, introspective man in him that I had never seen before. Getting clean and seeking out a spiritual life has changed him in the most magnificent ways. Standing there in the parking lot I realized we were standing eye to eye; he was not as big as I remembered he was. I’ve grown into my own and he has changed, this man that I feared in my youth was no longer in there and it made my heart happy to see this.
We spent a good amount of timing laughing about getting old, he has a couple medical issues, I’ve a few body issues. I’m eating wheat toast with no jelly, and he is eating foods that won’t upset his diverticulitis and gallstones. It was sweet, to men in their 50’s that have known each other for the better part of their lives, eating crappy Denny’s food in a small town in Southern New Mexico playing catch up. He did most of the sharing and I was pleased to sit and listen, I don’t do well with talking at times and frankly I needed to get to know about who he is now and his happiness.
I am grateful to have stopped off and seen him, I might even be able to catch up with him on my way back to Phoenix to pick up Jenni. The woman I am dating is flying into Phoenix so we can do a little mountain biking and camping on my way home, mighty sweet of her to do so. Aside from that this van life is for the birds, it really is something I no longer enjoy doing solo. This drive through Texas is long, longer than I remember. I mean it’s only the third time I’ve driven through Texas, but that is 2 ½ times too many. Tomorrow is the last leg of the journey, it’s 335 miles to my sister’s place. I think I’ll wake early to get on the road, try and arrive by late morning and catch a nap in my upstairs suit.
~
Well, it’s been an adventure so far. Maybe not a physical one, but definitely one in the existence department. I woke at 3:30 this morning, as I do most nights when I don’t take something to keep me asleep. They say God comes to visit you at that time and if you do wake, you should stay awake and listen. Well, it’s 3:58 and I haven’t heard anything yet. Although I did realize that my computer is starting to fail, what’s another $1200 to add to the trip right? I say this with a tinge passive aggressiveness.
I’ve accepted this life long ago and the karmic treasure chest that leads it. At times I think, “I musta been a real piece of work for many lifetimes to get what I am getting now.” My luck, my luck is dismal to say the least. One of my closest friends told me once the he doesn’t even want to walk across the street with me my luck is so bad. That there is some funny shit, and true! I’m on my 3rd engine in the van, I just dropped 4K on a new pump for work for the tax write off and now I need a computer. When I first woke I thought of just splitting to my sisters before sunrise, but then remembering all the coyotes I’ve seen mangled on the side of the road, I measured my luck against the odds of hitting one and decided to wait till first light to leave. And all that is ok, I’ve acceptance in my life today.
It's not always a pretty acceptance, sometimes I need someone to help me get across the line that goes from “fuck this life” to “it is what it is”. But I get there and sometimes that’s all that matters. Like getting my bike stolen about a month back, that was 3K, gone. But what can you do right, it’s not like I haven’t caused that kind of financial loss in someone else’s life, and you can bet over all my lifetimes I most definitely caused 30 or 50 times that amount.
I wonder, if I can accept so much of what happens to me in life, why do I fear something happening? Why do I fear hitting an animal in the middle of west Texas if I am going to fall into acceptance of it at some point? My torn meniscus has been sore the last couple days, I really don’t want a bad flare up as it will hinder my activitiness come next Wednesday when I pick up Jenni. But if it does have a bad flare up, I’ll accept it and find a work around. So why do I have the of fear it of possibly happening?
Is it that I have plans and I don’t want those plans to be altered? With the van, is it that my monies are only stacked so high, and I don’t want to spend a boatload of it? With Jenni, is it that I don’t want to let her down if my body decides to take a timeout?
I think I keep score somewhere in my head. I’ve this list of things that happen on the daily, small as they are at times, but I keep a mental list of them. I think that list creates some of the fear I have. This trip for instance: oil leak couldn’t be fixed in time, cracked windshield in Phoenix, knee acting up, egg rolled off the counter the other morning, a bush was touching the van two nights back and now there are ants in here, computer needs to be replaced sooner than later.
So, in 4 days all that happened. I think I keep that list in my head and adjust my decision making, fear of what else could happen. Even though I’ve accepted it all, I still hold on to it. How come I don’t make a list of all the things that have worked in my favor?
I’ve woken up every day of my life. That there, right there, that trumps all the shit that happens in life, I still get to wake up. I mean we can add in other things too if that’s not enough right. Like I’ve a home and food and not one, but 2 vehicles. I’ve my health, all my appendages, I’ve happiness and love in me, towards me and all around me. I’ve met an amazing human being and she fancies me, I had a dog once that was the best dog ever, and I’m presently drinking a killer cup of coffee this morning. This list could be so fucking long my fingers would cramp if I tried to type it all down...
So wait, why am I in fear again, or melancholic over some stuff happening in the last few days. Well, happening in this lifetime to be exact, but we’ll just deal with this the last few days, you know, that whole living in the now thing I try to practice. My life is overfilled with good, even if my luck sucks often. But the question still remains, why am I/was I in fear of leaving at 3:30 this morning to head to my sisters? My abundance of good isn’t a measuring stick to this, but my misfortunes are, but why? Why be in the fear, why not surrender to it all?
Every day I wake I am that much closer to my death, not even knowing if my expiration date is today. My mortality is so fragile, so delicate, but yet I don’t fear my demise, ever. And that really is the only thing that should be on my mind, I could die today. We fear death so much that we don’t ever think about it happening to us. We don’t talk about it; we hide from it and our fragile ego’s control it all. “I would be gone if I died, I would miss out on so much, I love my life I don’t want to lose it.” Do you think if I stayed close to this reality, that my death could come at any time, that I would be less likely to hold tight to all these unwanted happenings, to all the fear.
I think I would cherish so much more in life. I would see the cracked egg on the floor of the van and see how artistic it looks rather than seeing a mess to clean up. If I did take out a coyote, I would see it as a soul being freed from its physical form and given the opportunity to possibly level up in its karmic transition. I believe I would have a view of the world that God wanted me to have, one of understanding and love and compassion. I would see things as a child does with its pure heart and mind of wonder. I would be freed of this human experience.
And it's times like this, these moments of realization or gaining a deeper connection to the universe that I see that I have been living wrapped up in self and not open to the world around me. A tunnel vision that has skewed my sight and how I really need to let go of the trappings of life and reconnect to what opens me up to the world. I really am starting to realize this morning how much fear I am really living in, how much avoidance I have in my life today.
Now if I can only bottle up this train of thought and dip into it throughout the day. Come back to it every hour or so, as to remind myself that life really is easy and simple if I am open and trusting of the process, if I am in acceptance and have complete surrender. Come back to it as I come back to the card she left for me in the van, hidden in a cubby with thoughtful words and covered in her perfume. I smell that card, and I am taken right back to her love and kindness, to the shape of her hand and the tiny kisses I seek. If I could have a reminder that life is more precious than I ever thought it was, and that I need to see it as so. That shit happens, and that I shouldn’t keep a mental list of it. That everything can be new and interesting if I just let go of all my preconceived notions and prior experiences…
It's a new day my friends, one that we have been given the privilege to live, let us not waste it on things of no merit. Let us be open and compassionate and kind and loving, let us not live in fear or control or longing or regret. This could be our last day on earth, how would you like to live it?
~
I don’t feel old, I don’t feel 50, I feel as a child, a kid. I am 15 and goofy and awkward, bashful and shy but wanting the world to see me cuz I think there is something inside worth seeing. And then I turn on myself, and I am nothing, nothing special, nothing to be seen. I fight this feeling inside, 2 of me and I don’t know who to be or who to believe. I run mad circles in me, around me, I want to tear myself apart so I can never again be seen, be open. You lay your heart on the line, come naked and bare to me all you are and I do not notice. I am of the selfish and I cannot see beyond my crooked nose, my squinty eyes looking right through you…
And this is how I wake and the first thoughts I have. Waking from a dream that has no connection to the moment. I was looking through old pics of a time that is long gone but the love of it still lingers in my heart. How lucky am I to let go and still hold close all that was.
I am in Austin, it’s 4:30 in the morning, I missed my chat with God by an hour. I wonder who I am chatting with now, does someone else come at 4:30? Maybe no one, maybe no spirit of any sort has come to speak with me. Maybe I woke at 4:30 cuz the time change, maybe there is too many emotions swimming around inside me, goldfish and puranas. The duality of man, the duality of existence.
The drive here had ups and downs, as life does sometimes. I love this vagabond, bohemian lifestyle - I am over these never-ending roads and this semi-homeless experience. Either way, I made it here and it has filled my heart yet again. I wish my daughter was here tho, she has never come with me to Texas, no one has ever come out here with me. So is life I guess.
The house is the same, vast and clean and organized, yet it has a comfort to it that lets you know its lived in. Maybe it’s the dog that greets you or the tv room across from the kitchen, with its large couch and warm feel. I’m presently in my suit, from the open foyer, up the curved grand staircase that hugs the wall with its espresso stain handrail and wrought iron spindles to it’s landing where there is another tv room, this one holding a couch and ping-pong table. To the right is my bedroom with attached bathroom. It feels like I have come home, come to a place where a true family is present.
There is a board with the weeks dinner plan on it and on those days notes as to what the kids are doing. If you’ve ever read anything I’ve written about Austin, Texas, you would know my sister, she has quite the type A personality. She is the glue to our family, and I couldn’t be more grateful for her. She is also the Julie McCoy to all group vacations and visits, I received my weeks itinerary of dinners and activities via text the other day. I kinda feel like this is what it would be like to be on a cruise ship.
Glen is the head cook of the house, my sister’s husband of 25+ years. We all were in school together, Glen in my grade, my sister a grade above us. He is preparing two turkeys for Indian Massacre Day, both spatchcocked. One will be traditionally baked and the other barbequed, he is quite the chef and barbeque master. Watching Glen and my sister cook in the kitchen together is almost like watching a tv show, the kind of tv show that displays what a family should look like in America, everywhere for that matter. I enjoy watching them and hope to cook with my partner someday. I have helped Jenni a couple times, well I’m on dish duty right now but I might get offered a new position at some point. Although her kitchen is galley style and plenty big for one person, but two people would make it a little tighter and being that close to her I would probably not my take job as sous chef seriously and just fondle her… if we stay together, I hope that never changes, that playfulness.
This morning’s activities consist of a movie at the cineplex, moms, sister and niece are going. Not sure what the old man, Glen and the nephew are signed up for. I think I’m going to go ride; this is the hilliest place in Texas and there are actually some trails. Last night I found a website for a mountain biking group that I emailed for some guidance on where the best trails are.
And that’s it, I’ve reached my destination and usually I’ve little to say or write about when I am here. The solitude of the road is really what gets my mind wondering and reconnecting to all that is beautiful and true. Civilian life closes me off some, too many moving parts, too much to concentrate on. I’m unable most times to be present in the moment or I am so present that mind has no time to dissect.
~
And I was wrong...
It was 80 yesterday, and upon leaving the house in the morning there was the faint smell of the South. The moisture in the air here is palpable, it is very distinct. All I needed to hear were some cicadas and it would have completed the memory of my time here 3 summers back. Well that, and for it to be 100+ with 95% humidity. But we will leave those numbers out of this, the summers in Texas are brutal and disgusting, I think even most Texans would agree.
I love the openness of Texas. Montana has big sky’s, along with Nebraska, Wyoming, and Kansas – Texas falls into the category too, except here in hill county, where I am now. These streets and skies are nothing like those of LA or New York or Philadelphia. I think a lot of the South has an openness to it, Florida does for sure. No sidewalks or multistory buildings, everything set pretty far back off the street more often than not. Maybe these are just city to suburb differences I am talking about, I can only speak on what I’ve seen. At one point in my life I wanted to see every inch of this land, that desire has faded though.
But Texas is open, and here in the outskirts of Austin proper the buildings are set back off the street like they are in some parts of Florida, along these highways that are long and flowy – hill country and all. You can’t really see what establishments are behind the large bushes they use to hide some of these stirp mall shopping centers. There is traffic, but nothing ridiculous. There are asshole drivers in big diesel trucks and dot com crypto dicks in flashy sports cars, both cutting each other off and us normies suffering their anger towards one another. You know the country bumpkin that was born and raised here in the Republic of Texas cares not for all the yuppie 20 and 30 somethings that moved in over the last 10 years.
I had investigated moving here years ago, renting a spot off Congress, maybe near 6th, close to downtown. I obviously didn’t pull the trigger, and this gives me pause for thought. I didn’t move here and in not doing so I had some serious growing/learning experiences happen where I was, some with very poignant people, some solo. I wonder, would I have had the same experiences just with different people? Like learned the same lessons. Some people believe that we will continue to have the same life lessons taught until we learn and change and move forward. I wonder if that is true, and if it is, do the particular players in these lessons have no consequence, do they have no real value to it all, could they be anyone?
I was mad about a woman in between the time of looking to move here and a while back. If I had moved here, would a replica of that woman have entered my life so I could open my eyes to what I needed to learn? I took that big trip that changed so much in me, would I still have taken that trip or would there still be that unscratched itch?
I feel I was meant to take that trip. I feel I was meant to love that woman, no matter how out of pocket it got, that was actually one of the reasons I was supposed to. We know there are no two snowflakes exactly alike, this is proven scientifically by real smart people. It’s the same with no two people being exactly alike, again proven scientifically by more real smart people. Then take on experiencedly wise, no two people have suffered the same mental and emotional experiences.
But in thinking about it right now, the woman I was with a spell or two back had very similar experiences as this other woman I had dated. So maybe I was meant to be with this type of experienced woman and the women themselves had no baring…
Yet we think we are meant to be with specific people, “Oh I was meant to be with so and so, I just loved them too much to have not ever been with them”. Is this true? Had fate brought this person, these people across the cosmos to us so we could be together? Was me not moving here determined by this fate of meeting said woman? Is that really what my life has hinged on over the last 6 or 7 years? And for that matter was becoming a drug addict and moving to SLO all hinged on meeting Elisa and raising Delaiah? Delaiah in my life is by far the most beautiful and significant thing to ever happen to me in my 50 years of being alive.
There is no way it’s not true that our interactions with one another is really what shapes so much of our lives, our emotional, our mental, our spiritual, our physical lives. In my eyes could be the biggest basis of living, our connection with one another. But is it individual specific?
The woman I am relationshiping with now, she’s not just any woman. She has very specific qualities I am attracted to, a wisdom that is enticing, compassion that I can relate to, a view like mine, and a way about herself that draws me in like a bee to a flower. Was I meant to be with her? Were all the dates that never became something, all the relationships that failed, the moves that never happened – were they all interconnected and created by the cosmos to bring me here to this moment in time with her? And if so, is it that we believe this cause it brings about a deeper meaning to us, a deeper connection to what we feel. And if we don’t believe in this, is it cause we have hurt too deeply, scared from past loves that we have yet to and maybe never will heal from, so we choose not believe in kismet?
You’ve your opinion about it all or maybe you don’t, but you’ve pondered about it I’m sure. More often than not I do not go down these roads, searching for answers to these unanswerable questions. I know what I know about all this when I stop and come back to now. Everything is singular and at the same time everything is interconnected. I don’t go out into the mystic trying to understand all of life. I’ve trust and conviction in my life today, everything is meant to be, and it all means nothing.
I used to sleep so soundly in here, now it’s like I’m constantly on set and there’s a 4am shoot time, even tho I never acted a day in my life. I slept like a baby on the trip I took 3 years back. Out at 8, up at 6 or 7. I grew so accustomed to sleeping correctly, I’m pretty sure there’s some crazy number of Americans that have sleeping issues and I’m positive that its due to stress. We walk around like wind up dolls, our insides on the brink of imploding, gears grinding, body vibrating, stiff leggedly ambling forward. I don’t think we are conscious of it; we are but we are not.
We see the stresses that life gives us, but we don’t really know how fucked up we are from it. Yes, there are some who are on that next level and have no stresses, they are few and far between and of a different breed. I cannot relate to these individuals, I try to be like them, but there is too much in me to be as so. It’s a surrender I will probably never know. I don’t think money has anything to do with it either, I think it’s the exact opposite.
My mind tells me it’s that they are well off and have no concerns about money, about buying food, paying bills, repairing cars, retiring, affording decent healthcare, a nursing home if ever needed. But even with financial security there is a stress to maintaining it, don’t spend too much, is my money making the right amount of interest where it is invested, replacing the roof wasn’t figured into this equation, so on and so forth. What happens when the stock market drops, and you lose half of all you’ve saved? What happens if you fall ill and the recovery cost a 1/3 of what you have. Having money can be a stressor all on its own. Money is not the key to living a stress-free life, although it is helpful without a doubt.
There are more people on this planet who are the have nots than the haves. I think I am somewhere in the middle of these people. I’ve a close friend, a few close friends that are of the have not, I feel for their position in life. I walk around stressed and not knowing it, I know they walk around the same way, more often than me. But neither one of us know it as stress; we see it as something different. I can’t sleep, I’ve a headache, my mind keeps wandering, all I want to do is nap, I eat too much, all I eat are sweets, I can’t stop sleeping around, I have no sexual appetite, the list goes on and on.
One could argue that what I have listed falls under the category of obsession or depression, and it does. But can’t these things come from two sources in our lives? Not much is one sided, some things, most things, have multiple contributing factors. You’re not sleeping is most likely due to a variety of things, your obsession to screw anything that moves has more to it than just being horny. Dysfunctional living is made of different building blocks and stress is a big part of it. Look how stress ages a person, we grow wrinkles and gray hairs faster than someone who is living without it. Have you ever watched someone go through a stressful time in their lives that lasted beyond a couple days, that lasted months, they do not look the same on the other side of it.
On that trip I took 3 years back I had enough money to live off for a while, no business to tend to, no clients to appease, no need to bid the job just perfect, so I could get the job, and make the right amount of money off the job to live off of and save for taxes and retirement. I had no woman to tend to, no wondering what they were thinking, what are they doing, no working at coexisting with someone, not worrying about fucking something up. No bills to pay, well 3 bills, phone, health insurance and rent, so basically no bills. I had no life to maintain, no bodies in it to tend to, no aggravations, no obstacles, just me and the road, it was the most stress-free time I had ever lived in my entire life. And I remember when it changed.
I was in New Hampshire, going left into Vermont and it all started to change, I started sleeping less, that was my indicator. I think that is always my indicator, my red flag of going against the grain if you will. I had made the decision to turn around and start heading back. I had grown tired of the road and having no direction. I was 47 at the that time, and lived the dream I had dreamt of for most of my life and it was time to head home. As glorious as it was to live free of all the things that caused stress in my life, I needed to go back home. Living van life into my 50’s isn’t practical, although some do it, but for me it wasn’t the right fit or was no longer the right fit (that’s the beautiful thing about life, its always changing and you can change it at any time).
As I headed back the stressors came back too. I had started thinking of a way to live in society but to do it with less stress, I started looking for jobs in the mountains, painting trees in the Rockies or something. Some opportunities arose when I got home and settled some, but I pulled the trigger on none of them. It was nice to be home, back to all that was familiar in my life, and I had made a commitment to myself to live a stress free from there on out. Work solo, do small to medium jobs, cut back my living expenses so I don’t have to work too hard and struggle to do so. Move slower through world, smell the flowers and not judge myself against you. Be alone, don’t get into a relationship, don’t sleep around. It worked for a couple months, then the trappings of life kicked in as they do.
Needless to say, I had to start hustling monies, find a new place to live, upgrade my work truck, I got involved with someone, chased more money, lived beyond my means, judged your outsides to my outsides and my insides. I would say within 6 months I fell right back into the life I had escaped, a life of stress, fear and depression. When I was in New Hampshire, prior to making that lefthand turn, I was close to heading into Canada, to Nova Scotia, to Gampo Abby, the first Tibetan monastery in North America…
Theres 2 things here:
1) I think fear is the catalyst for most all the negative effects we feel in life, it is the main source of fuel for our unhappiness. Fear, stress, depression, most often in that order. Sometimes we recognize them separately, although most times we do not. They are all smashed together into a ball that lives in our psyche and rolls around in our gut. We recognize it as not being able to sleep, eating too much, fornicating, spending money, drinking, using drugs, so on and so forth. We don’t always see the stress; fear is loud and depression is heavy. It’s sometimes hard to feel the stress cause it carries many different feelings, it’s like an enhancer to fear and depression. If you are not looking for it, you won’t always see it as a contributor in your daily life.
2) Becoming a monk. Becoming a monk in avoidance of living in the civilian world or because I am that dedicated to my belief in Buddhism. Monks and nuns and priests and all the other spiritual figures of the world are definitely the less stressed of us all. Who wouldn’t want to live that simple of a life, that carefree, that selfless. Most of these figures spend their time in prayer for others, I can guarantee that that is why they are so happy, not living in that sick and twisted world of self-obsession. To be a monk, no worries of money or bills or relationshiping or vehicles or taxes or anything for that matter. Spend my days in meditation and prayer, cleaning and planting vegetables, tilling the land, doing laundry. A life of simplicity and spiritualty. But would I be doing it for the love of the belief or the escaping of civilian life…
Back to now, and now it’s 4:44, I’ve been up since 3:15. I’ve my twinkle lights on, an empty cup of coffee and I can hear two owls calling to each other on each side of my van. The cold has set in in here, I am ¾’s of the way covered in my bed, but the cold of the morning is soaking into my shoulders, sitting on my nose. I want to get more coffee, but I do not want to brave the cold. It’s this moment, right now, that my soul is drawn to, such a simple moment. Just me, in the van, in Southwest Texas, sipping coffee, listening to owls, and writing. This is the dream ya know, it’s what I wanted more than anything in this world, this moment right here. How fortunate am I to experience it one more time. Where life and love collide in the form of now, of being present. If only we could live all our days as such, so simply, so carefree.
My mind keeps going back to that buddy of mine with this whole train of thought about stress and the fear and depression that are intertwined in it. I feel so bad for him, the empathy I feel is so heavy. I wish him to live such a happier life, a simpler life. He doesn’t share all the feelings, but I know him well enough to know they are in there. And sadly, there a couple people, more than a couple, a few, actually more than a few, that would read this and think I am speaking about them. We should not live this way; this was not our intended purpose when given human form. But here we are, victims to a life built by greedy men, low-self-esteem, and commercialism.
I often think of what I am putting myself through on a daily basis. I fear the future at times, live in the past, judge me to you in all ways and forms. I create fear and depression, live in the confines of stress and jaw jack all night as a reliever of sorts only to have my ears as blaring horns disrupting any quiet time that could be. I also see myself as one of the fortunate ones of this world, one of the better off and lucky ones. I live in a dualistic world, as we all do in some manner.
If I really believed that becoming a monk would elevate all this inside me, I would go and do it, but I know it would not. It would be like the trip I took, welcomed, appreciated and enjoyed, but at some point, it would come to an end, knowing that I was not permanently meant for that lifestyle. I was meant to help others, to be a part of society, to trudge this road of life, with a bit if a struggle so I can remain in gratitude. I’ve always stood by the belief that if it wasn’t for a bad moment, I wouldn’t know what a good moment was. Without sadness there would be no joy, without fear there would be no love, and without stress there would be no relaxing. Everything has a counterpart and without that counterpart there can be no push and pull, knowing the merit of anything would be very difficult.
Stress is stupid, so is fear and depression. I play cat and mouse with these feelings, these things, trying to evade and outsmart. I do not buy my way to avoidance, fuck my way to it, use my way to it, I do nothing of the sort, well except ride my bike. I work at surrendering it in prayer, I work at “be here now”, I work at thinking of and doing for others. Life is going to be what it’s going to be, I can only do so much in the changing it department. Like we do the foot work and leave the results up to the universe. In between the time I do the foot work, and the universe does its thing, all I can do is what I mentioned above. Be spiritual, be here, be selfless and ride the fuck out of my bike.
For geographical purposes I started heading back home yesterday, although I won’t be home for another 7 days. Today is a short drive, Balmorhea, Tx. to Deming, NM., maybe a ride in the Franklin Mountains before seeing Sergio again. His girlfriend is a tattoo artist, and we are getting tattooed this afternoon, something that represents our childhood, matching Dog Town tattoos. I know, matching tattoos on guys is kinda gay, but so am I, so who the fuck cares. This guy is my brother through and through and to share the same tat with him, representing our childhood, our neighborhood, I couldn’t think of anything sweeter to share.
If I stop, slow my thoughts and look around I can see all the beautiful things of this world, moments that capture our hearts and minds. I can do this in the toughest of times, I’ve the choice as to what to see or not see, what to live in and what not to live in. It’s difficult to shake the neurosis from our present state of existence, but we can’t give up. If we do, we are doomed to a life of misery and self-obsession. I personally do not want to live that way for the remainder of my days, however many days I have left.
~
Lots of thoughts passed through my mind on the drive today. I was listening to Mathew McCaughey’s book Green Lights, it is definitely well read by him, or more like acted. He has mastered the craft of storytelling, he is actually as big a writer as he is an actor, and a very good one at that. It really is a good book, I’m about 3/4’s of the way through it so far. I can appreciate his zeal for life and the seizing of the moment and in fact being bigger than the moment, I think that is how he said it in Part 4, but don’t quote me on it.
I wondered, why was I not that ready and willing to take all the green lights that came my way? There were plenty of them, so many I couldn’t count them all if I could remember them all. We’ve all had them our entire lives, the universe giving us opportunity after opportunity to blaze a path down the center of our lives. Yet I did not take many of them, but why?
Yes, I can chalk it up to fear for sure, fear of success, fear of failure, fear of being open to the world and risking my feeble self-esteem. I mean really, the lack of self-esteem throughout my life is what has plagued me and stifled my opportunities to seize the moments that were so beautifully set before me. Most recently, well 3 years back when I was in New York on that trip, a woman said she could get me a job making $600 a day cash painting. Another woman who had a fenced in spot in Greenpoint, Brooklyn needed a floor for a greenhouse built - I’m sure I could of built it and parked my van in that spot for a spell, she even had a thing for me. The universe had given me what Mathew would have called a green light, and instead I went to Pennsylvania.
I know why I went south from Niagara Falls instead of west; I was no longer connected to the moment. Fear and the feeling I had to get home started to plague me. Home was so far away, and I was done living in the uncertainty of that rubbertramp lifestyle. But that opportunity aside, there were many others, all through my teens and into my early 20’s, but I shunned them. Held tight to comfort and security, not enough self-worth to make a move, or maybe I wasn’t supposed to. Either way, I rarely took the green lights.
Throughout the first 3 parts of his book, all the stories he told were of living in small town in Texas and how influenced he was by family; how tight knit they were. 2 older brothers, a mother and a father, he had a well-rounded upbringing of love and was taught a plethora of life lessons. Granted his parents were off the hook, he still got all the good things as a kid and throughout his life. I didn’t have that, I had a father who was absent most of my life and taught me nothing of being a man, standing tall or having self-worth and pride. I had a mother who was a bit crazy from the alcoholism and then by the time she got sober our dysfunctional relationship had already been set in stone. My guides in life were graffiti artists and criminals, gangsters and man-whores. I tried to emulate them, but I did a shitty job at it, even leveling up to a criminal was huge step for me and gangster, out of the question. Although I nailed man-whore…
I wondered, on that drive, that if I had a better upbringing, a well-rounded one, with a stable mother and attentive father, would I have had what it took to take all the green lights? To be bigger than the moments I was in and outshined them? Not that I am in blame or resentment of any sort, my life happened the way it did, and I am beyond blessed with the way it went. I guess now it really doesn’t matter about what could have been had, whether this or that happened, but it does make me wonder.
Presently I am 20 miles outside of Tucson, Az. Using my phone, I was able to track my parents’ location and decided to surprise them by getting a site next to them at the Benson KOA campground. For umpteen years my mother has wanted to go camping with me and I figured there was no better time to do so. I know how long the drive is from Austin to SLO and I know how my parents can get when fatigued and grumpy from too much driving, I figured I could be a good buffer for them. Save the old man (my stepfather) from getting all my mother’s attention, I chose to be a sacrificial lamb of sorts.
Right now, we are parked across from one another and sitting in our chairs as the sun sets and the cool breeze of an Arizona evening comes upon us. My mother reading some book, while eating 2 different already half-eaten candy bars, my old man poking away at his Ipad, not really sure what he is tinkering with on there. He has a love for information and seeing how things work, for all I know he is reading about nuclear physics, and I am writing...
Dark thirty was right around the corner and diner was calling my name, I retired to my van and heated up some chicken and rice Sergio’s mother sent with me when I left the other night. I ate standing at my counter, the meat was good, the tortillas tasted like the inside of the fridge. The salsa I purchased in Texas was subpar, but the cheese was helpful, all in all it was a real van-life meal. After eating and checking out on some reels on Instagram I got the text to come play Scrabble, my mother was beyond happy that I asked to play a game earlier in the day. They sat there with their Scrabble dictionaries and I with my phone checking to see if qa or vi or eb was a word that could be played. My old man kept giving my mother lay-ups with access to triple word scores. Either it wasn’t clicking that he was doing that, or he knew helping her win was more important than winning itself, I like to think it was the later of the two.
Scrabble ended and my mother won, walking off the board with vie on a triple word score, a lay-up from the old man. I said my goodnights and walked across the gravel to my van, climbed in and got lost once again in reels on Instagram. I thumbed my way through countless videos of nonsense, paying more attention to the algorithm halfway through my time in idiot land. Videos and tv contribute to the dumbing down of our society, unless you know moderation and don’t get sucked in like I do. It’s like crack or sugar at times, just a taste and I’m hooked till I start to feel ill from it. Luckily the algorithm is so blatant that it snaps me out of what Instagram is doing to me, keeping me watching on what it thinks I like so it can make money on ads. I’ve yet to buy anything I’ve received an ad for on social media, but I have definitely looked at stuff more than once and once you do that, every 5th or 8th reel is an ad for what you looked at, all in the hopes that you will buy it so Instagram can show its advertisers that the algorithm is working and they should buy more ad space. So easily do we become puppets to so many different things in this world.
I started to get sleepy, or that is what I told myself. I called Jenni to say goodnight, to which she didn’t answer, and I left a message on her voicemail. I used my deep scratchy voice to leave the message, the one that fainty resembles Sam Elliot. When I had started making Tik Toc videos years ago at work I would wake each morning to do the voice overs, my morning voice being that of a low 40-year cigarette smoker with bronchitis. The videos were shit but the voice was a hit, I think more people followed me for my narration than my painting skills. I acquired over 5500 followers, by the young people I’m told that’s something.
The idea of making it big in the Tik Toc world came to mind, making videos and getting paid for it, but reality is I would rather paint then to have to make a bunch of shit videos. But I would be willing to do voice-overs or book narrations, all’s I need is an agent and a pack of Marlboros.
It's now 5:30 in the morning, I pick up Jenni from the airport in Phoenix tonight at 7. Not sure if I mentioned it but she is flying in to meet me and we are taking a few days to drive home, our first stop is Sedona. I haven’t spend a ton of time there, I do remember the streets packed with cars, and the dispersed camping spots filled to the brim. People everywhere, bohemian boutique shops, fast-food joints, mom and pop overly priced hotels, fancy restaurants, spa’s and all the things Tahoe is, all the things I can do without. But it is beautiful there, some of the most beautiful red rock mountains and canyons I have ever seen. From Sedona to Bryce and Virgin to Page, simply magnificent. I could spend a lifetime wandering that 45,000 sq. mile red heaven on earth. If you haven’t been I suggest you go, but not before you die. Go now, make the plans today, cause you never know how close your end is.
We will sleep tonight and ride tomorrow, I am so fortunate to have met someone that has the same passion for riding as I do. She is strong too; I work at keeping up with her at times. She hits the gym a couple times a week, rides and hikes just as much, I think almost every day she is getting exercise in some manner. She is a wonderful cook, makes all kinds of interesting foods from scratch, she also bakes (I have a hope that she will bringing some cookies with her).
She is kind and thoughtful and gracious, well rounded in life experiences and grounded to who she is. She is an optimist and lets me know when I am in judgement, even if it’s just a casual observation I am giving. But that is what I do, I observe, it helps with the writing, with the deciphering of life and all the ongoings of the physical, mental and spiritual existence we are all living in.
I have been fortunate to have met her, now let’s see if “I” can’t stay out of the way of this and not fuck it up. Every time “I” gets involved with something in my life it goes array. “I” being me in ego. A Buddhist once said, “every time you start a sentences with “I” you are living in ego”. Seems to make sense to me, don’t think I’ll ever be that removed from being in ego, also I think that this particular Buddhist wasn’t being literal. We make so much about us; some even do it when they think they are being selfless. I once heard a woman sharing accolades of another woman while giving her a clean-time cake at a meeting. It started good, selfless, but quickly turned when all the stories she was sharing turned into being about her, it was quite odd to watch.
Not everyone is awake to ego, I would like to think I am, but in reality, I am somewhere in between awake and asleep, I am in the twilight. Waking from our neurosis is a life-long journey, it takes many life-long journeys. How many I am not sure, I might have 43 more to go, maybe 430, who knows, and what does happen when I am fully awake from my neurosis, from the psychosis of life?
Well, I’m not sure, I just know that this one lifetime is not all I get. I think that maybe there is a place like the heaven the Buddhists, Catholics, Christians, Muslims, Jews, Jehovah’s and all the other religions talk about. Maybe the world was made of a flower growing out of Krishna’s belly button, I don’t know. All I do know is that there have been too many coincidences in my life, too many moments when I knew I had seen or been or felt something from before this lifetime.
Some of the people that I’ve met that I was so connected to, there is no way I didn’t know them in a previous lifetime.
That’s my belief, it’s a belief I have formed over the years and the experiences I have had. I think I am clairvoyant; I think we all are on some level. I think I can bring things into my life, not new cars or money but positive or negative outcomes. No, I can’t change what fate has in store, if fate exists, but I can change the experience I will have when something arrives.
Isn’t that the most beautiful thing about life, is that we can believe it, design it, live it, change it however we choose to. Nothing but ourselves and our life can we do that with, and isn’t it hilarious that we gravitate to doing just that with everything but ourselves and our lives. We are a crazy bunch are we not? I am no different from you, even if I think I am in the twilight of waking. We are all in the twilight of waking up, little adjustments, small thoughts, eclipsing moments that move at breakneck speed, all the movements waking us up slowly. How present can you be to just now, right now, this moment. I guess it comes down to what you desire in life, who you want to be and what direction you wish to head in.
I myself, I would like to move further away from self, I would like to devote more time into thinking about you and your needs, your actions, and be grateful for you and how you contribute to this world. Even the non-virtuous acts contributed can be a positive. You will have to suffer the karmic effects of that, but it does contribute to the growth of this world. If we grow like a lotus from difficult or painful situations then the non-virtuous acts become virtuous. It’s about training your mind to see the positive and share the positive, about making lemons into lemonade, even though I care not for that analogy, it does hold truth.
This is likely to be the last entry to this, prose? This short story? This experience? Labels are so lame, but needed at times, although this is one time I feel a label is not needed. I will not have much time nor desire to write after I pick up Jenni, she deserves my undivided attention, like everyone does when in someone’s presence.
If anything was learned on this ride is that van life is no longer my cha cha, and I need to move on from the attachment formed to my escape pod, my second home, my lifeboat to life. I was reminded of how much catching up with an old friend warms my heart and gives me much gratitude for the life I’ve lived. I was again reminded that life is short, and all the time spent with someone you care for should be at the forefront and not the idiosyncrasies that annoy you…
I don’t want to end this part of whatever this is, writing is so essential to my life, to understanding it and finding God in it. I am in love with being alive at times like this, alone in the wee hours of the morning, sipping strong coffee and writing. Being disconnected from the matrix and all the trappings of it and the psychosis I fall into. I hope you have a way connect to you, to be in love with the moments you get to live, to be disconnected from everyone and everything and get into the spaces that are so neglected.
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