I have finally made the decisions to start writing once again. In that decision I didn’t realize stories would be then filling my head preventing me from sleeping…again. It’s OK; I don’t have a job anymore. It certainly has been a rough year. I could have give up any time and let go. There were many points this last year that I could think of nothing other than ending it all and making sure someone knew I wanted to be cremated because I would be to embarrassed if that many people would have to carry a coffin for me, or a special order coffin would have to be made. Then the thought of my body uncomfortably shoved in a box and buried underground was too much and I decided that a one time burning with maybe my ashes spread out to those weirdo friends that carry around ash of their dead friends, and family that wants any. I don’t know man, life is hard. Life sucks, but it is the only one we have. I am tired of the, if this happens I will be happy scenario, or if I achieve this goal everything will be ok, if I get a regular job everything will be fine mentality. The problem is, I just don’t know how to change it. I don’t know how to fix the problem, or if there really even is a problem. Why isn’t what I AM doing okay? Why aren’t I seeing results or changed behaviors? Life’s fucking mysteries.
There is a man here. He arrived 2 eveings ago. He rode his bicycle over 10, 000 miles for love and peace. He talks to a minimum of 10-30 people a day about the love and the light and how everything is one with the last. Generally he relys on the kindness of others, and he can go weeks on the bike on a mere $80. He has a trailer and he keeps his pantry in it and each night he sets ups camp somewhere and cooks a meal over an open fire. He utilizes food pantries and accepts the love that other want to empart on him. He has traveled on the bike through something like 13 countries, meeting the locals regardless of knowing the language or not. He was able to share a meal and some wisdom with more people that anyone else will ever have contact with in their lifetimes. He talks of the interconnection between people and the energies of the universe and the land. Mama Baja he called to when traveling through Mexico, down to his last pair of pants, it being so hot and turning the pants into shorts and having no food, and magically a man appeared on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere. He sat with the man and shared some oranges and homemade torrillas, and they spoke to each other in a kind of non-language, a language that involved deep eye contact and heartsongs. He writes down these stories and a friend has compiled them and purchased a domain for him. He is from Iowa. Just an odd tale of 6 degrees of separation on how he got here only not boring to the 6 degrees. Today I awake and fine him washing the dishes and straightning up the kitchen in my house; the house I share with 4 other adult sized humans, 4 dogs, 1 cat and 6 baby chickens. I know that later today he has arranged for some volunteer work at the local community recycling center in exchange for use of their tools and parts to fix his bike and rig. Another really cool thing about living in this area is Bring Recycling. They have all kinds of parts and bits and scrap from building projects, etc. I really just can’t say enough about the place. Our bike rider is helping teach a tile-laying class take and in exchange he is getting the parts he needs to repair and upgrade his bike so that he can carry more on it and be more self-sufficient. 10 years ago, whilst living in LaLa Land, I would have never known about this life and the journey of others and a recycling center that I can go to to buy junk to turn into other stuff. You know… that’s always been my MO… turning random stuff into other stuff.
Kindness and generosity are not lost of me. Some have maybe lost site of what is important in the world, but to me it’s all about kindness and taking care of one another.