A Living Magazine - Day 156 - Beyond The Dream Horizon

I woke in the new sleep spot, fully refreshed. There were birds everywhere!; playing in the air, staking out five-second territories so proudly, and then flitting off to another branch. They don't worry--not like I do...

I was reminded of Matthew 6:25-27...

"For this reason I say to you, do not be worried about your life, as to what you

will eat or what you will drink; nor for your body, as to what you will put on.

Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing?

Look at the birds of the air, that they do not sow, nor reap

nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them.

Are you not worth much more than they?

And who of you by being worried can add a single hour to his life?"

They really were great company, inspiring me, landing in front of me, saying "What are you doing in that tent? Won't you rise up and dance with us in the sky?" They were hopping onto the tent and in the trees around me; their songs being the soundtrack of peace and joy.  

* * * * * * *

My spirit was lifted up and into the White Light of the Spark. It was like a dream. There was a horizon, sharp as the distant edge of a calm sea of glass. The sun was smeared across the sky as if Apollo's chariot had left a trail behind it from the night before and it lived on until dawn.

Where all color is gathered together, mingled in the fires of billions of galaxies, trillions of inhabited planets, infinite hosts of cosmic citizens, is the home we had before we had this world. All the hard work, all the sweat and perseverance, all the striving of all the ages remains as ONE thing there. 

In the green fields, filled with flowers painted by the brushes of evolution, gently swaying in warm breezes, beside crystal waters, an invisible choir sings with a collective smile. In this place, the worry is over. The great struggles of history, the pain of downcast faces held under pressure for countless ages, the torture of ravaged flesh, the anguished burning of innocence... It is all...done.

I waited there, peering back at the distant snow-covered peaks of my past, melting in the Light of my future; all, divorced from the present. I think I could have stayed if I chose. I wanted to stay. I longed so dearly to stay.

My soul stood in a torn shirt, worn-out pants, faded hat, aging skin; blue eyes staining red with the tears of an unexpressed human desperation, with the quivering jaw of a child who has never really grown up and could barely believe that less time was now ahead of him than behind him... My image was clearly reflected back to me--now, an aging man, alone on the streets every single day.

I chose to do this. And, it is the greatest choice I have ever made; perhaps the greatest choice I WILL ever make. I was greatly strengthened in this moment by knowing that people truly cared about me, watched my daily progress, stood ready to help me whenever I'd stumbled or grew hungry. 

I felt the presence of the Spark stir in my emerging soul. And, it said...

"You are doing well. We are growing closer together."

As if a great tether had been attached to my shoulder blades and was now suddenly pulling me back, whisking me across the fields of flowers - my fingers dangling down and feeling their stems flick by - across that horizon, over the calm sea, to the tent opening where my body sat next to Saggy--the backpack of wonder. The birds watched, cocking their heads in an innocent curiosity. 

* * * * * * *

It was time to get going. I had only one more night to spend in Birmingham, and then it was on to Montgomery. I turned my mind back to practical matters. I had to try the post office again. Then I needed to buy my bus ticket and print it somehow--now, without the library as an option.

I stopped into Starbucks to work on the "Filthy Rich Rant Part 2" essay until 1:00 pm, and then took the same route as the day before to the post office. I had a bad feeling about it. But, I was very pleasantly surprised when I walked in. The same woman who had helped me the day before instantly recognized me and said, "Mr Walls!! I believe we have a little package for ya, honey!" 

I must have looked like a child on Christmas morning. She walked over to the corner of the room - not even out back - where she had placed my package so it could easily be found, then returned and handed it to me a big beautiful smile. I think the expression on my face made her day, in the same way this care package would make my day. I thank her and practically danced out the door.

All I could think about was getting into that damn box! Finally, about halfway back to Starbucks, I found a bench along 20th Street, pulled out my little knife and opened up the package. Inside, were all the goodies I could possibly want--and need, and even more...

My friend, Jeff, had sent me a desperately needed new t-shirt (Maine! Moosehead Lake!), along with a short-sleeved button down shirt for the warmer weather to which I would soon be traveling. Then, I saw a bunch of yummy candy--perfect for my bus trip the next day. I dug deeper and discovered bacon jerky, beef jerky, a giant summer sausage (the guy knows what I like!), more of those tough twists that are so helpful, a little LED white flashlight, a four function whistle (with compass, magnifying glass, and--especially helpful, thermometer), a face towel, an emergency towel, a camper's soap in a small sealed container, and something that I'd been needing for many weeks: a heavy duty defensive, telescoping baton.

The baton was an excellent suggestion that Jeff had made a couple weeks before. I'd felt that I could definitely defend myself with the two knives I had, but I was very concerned about their lethal nature. It is much easier to actually kill someone (even when it is not intended) with blades. One slice to a major artery and it's game-over for some poor bastard, or unfortunate wild animal. I'm not a pacifist, I have no problem kicking ass if I'm attacked, but KILLING? That's a different story altogether. I'm trying to wear my soul on the outside. I don't need to weigh it down by sending someone to the "other side" of that horizon I spoke of above. The baton can really do some serious damage and it is also quite intimidating when it's pulled out and extended! But unless it NEEDS to be, it is not a killer. That was good enough for me. I found ways to fit all this new stuff into Saggy, somehow, but it wasn't very easy. Ha! 

While at the bench, I got online, piggybacking upon a stray Xfinity signal from some nearby business, ordered the bus ticket which had gone up by $5.00, but it was of no concern. 

Soon I would be running out of money again. I'd been much more careful with the contributions that had come in just before leaving Nashville, but every jar of coins has a bottom--and I was seeing it more clearly each day. There was enough to get to Montgomery and survive for a couple of days. I wasn't looking forward to begging again for more, but that is the nature of my work. I lived my job every minute of every day, and it was important enough to swallow my pride and/or be misunderstood, misjudged, even misrepresented by those who don't understand or approve of this work, in order to obtain the funding necessary to continue it.

I happily munched on bacon jerky until I got back to Starbucks, where I purchased a decaf (I'd already had plenty of caffeine). Settling in among my new friends--the employees, as they worked hard behind the counter, and in the midst of bright-eyed and devoted college students (making me feel young again), I worked steadily for six hours, finishing my rather complex essay just before the place closed at 9:00 pm.

When I left to return to the sleep spot for my last night in Birmingham, I caught sight of the full moon as it rose above the trees. The last full moon I'd seen was in Milwaukee the month before. In fact, I'd been outside for every full moon since leaving on this current journey on June 21st...   

The walk back to my adopted field went quickly, probably because I was so lost in thought. I passed the Golden Flake guard in his little house, and this time I waved. He waved back. I felt good. The pathway into my camping spot had already been cleared the night before, by my passage to it.

I set up the tent and stood outside in the moonlight sending my mind--as best I could, back and beyond that dream horizon. There was a Reason to all that I was doing, aside from any of my own paltry and incomplete reasons. The Spark was sending warm shivers down my spine. Usually after a good day like this, I worry a bit about things going wrong the next day, especially when it's a travel day. Instead, I felt differently on this bright evening. Some kind celestial fingertip touched my shoulder and I knew that the weeks to come - even though they will be hard ones - are just part of a saga that was being written in the whole world. It was not just my own story, but a story about the turning of the tide.