Melinda was gone when I woke up. She had done much better than I had by getting up at a reasonable hour. I actually turned over at 9:00 a.m. and slept for another hour and a half! My stoic resolve of past months was bleeding away from me whenever I stayed with people. I was feeling more like a lazy pile of bones, although a happy one.
I really think that my limit for constant adventure is being reached. I'm not saying that a few months of rest and deprogramming couldn't prepare me for another significant Journey, but nearly a year of what I've been doing has left me struggling to finish. Physically, I am doing just as well if not better than when I started. But psychologically, it is becoming something like a psychic windburn. The streets, the people, the images of hundreds of towns, and the sounds of millions of automobiles churn and swell in my mind.
I'm not sure I'd even expect a man with a stronger physical and mental fortitude to be able to process all that has blown by me like a wind. And, for a guy like me--once, a homebody with social anxiety and a terrible sense of self-loathing, looking back through the hundreds of entries on the blog I am both baffled and mystified at the seemingly supernatural amount of things that I have done.
Couple this astonishment with the persistent and almost unbelievable (at least to me) notion that no national media has even the slightest clue about it all, and I almost feel like I'm part of a joke. I mean what the hell does a guy have to do to get attention in this world? Ha! And, it has been made even more frustrating by knowing that this is the age of social media viral explosions. Cats and dogs get a million views, but 24/7/366 exhaustive, novel and unique work has led to little or no coverage. Very frankly, it is almost unbelievable to me; like a conspiracy is actually keeping my efforts from being known to the greater world. Of course this isn't the case, but what's the difference?
Well, all of this may be significant only to me, but shit, it IS significant to me. And, for you small and wonderful band of loyal readers and generous investors, I often feel as though - as a group - we all deserve more than we've received. I guess maybe I'm blowing all of this out of proportion. If it were just about me doing something for myself, and raising enough funds to accomplish it, then I've succeeded in spades. But that is not good enough for me. Nothing that I have written about, nor the substance of my philosophies are satisfied by a just-for-me explanation or conclusion.
I thought about all these things on this morning, feeling guilty for not wanting to get out bed. Other than that I only had my posts on my mind, and catching them up. Eventually, I kind of dropped myself out of bed, slithered into the bathroom and took a shower. I felt much better at that point.
Working downstairs for most of the afternoon, I got two posts published. I am seeing the value of having a delay in posting as long as it doesn't get too far behind. I am better able to reflect from a few days in the future (as I'm doing right now).
I wanted to walk to the store and get some extra food. I decided not to take Saggy the wonder pack, and left for Cumberland Farms...
A patch of daisies along Melinda's street.
Along the way I thought about the different kinds of books I could write about these Journeys. There is so much that happens that I have not discussed. When talking to Melinda the night before, I had told her about my rather unusual childhood. I also revealed something about myself that I have only told a few other people. It fills in the gaps for why I am the way I am and what has brought me to this point. It is a tragedy, and yet so fascinating as to verge on science fiction and supernatural wonder. When I'd discussed this with her, she finally understood so much more about my story. Because we share the same fundamental spiritual and philosophical beliefs, I think it was much easier for her to grasp it all.
Now she knows what I know: For me there are only two possible endings to that story, tragedy or triumph. Will the tragedy of three decades ago lead to a terrible fate or one of Light-manifesting ascension? We all have yet to know. It is this major event from so long ago that informs all that I do now. It has to be written about at some point. But will it be an autobiography? Will it be a kind of historical novel? Will it be based around these journeys or will some coming circumstance provide an even more appropriate venue? I just don't know. And, it is something I will be meditating on for the rest of this Homecoming.
Alternately, there are so many other variations about the logistic aspects of all of this Modern Nomadic travel just begging to be told. In a strictly financial sense, my ideas for a line of urban camping gear are probably the most practical ways that I might be able to make some money. But they require the production of prototypes, patent filing, looking for a company willing to pick them up and sell them in a retail environment. Although I can do a business plan, and find someone to make the prototypes, the patents and the marketing are not my fortes. Even for my own use, a new kind of backpack, sleeping bag, tent, eyeglasses, and clothing might be worth developing.
The idea for a kind of "Manual of Modern Nomadics" seems another obvious choice for a book. I'd like to produce a guide for finding sleep spots, list all the ones I found, the procedures for effective camping, long distance walking, dealing with all kinds of weather, staying clean and comfortable, financing the travel life, etc...
I would really love to see kids become inspired to explore this country. As I've written many times, I can see a period between high school and college when instead of backpacking across Europe or some exotic foreign destination, young men and women chart off across America, learning about this fantastic land, meeting their brother and sister citizens, and learning to appreciate just how simple life can be. I think it would leave a lifelong impression on young minds to see every sunrise, every sunset, cross the sparkling rivers, see the shining seas, sleep in the clear and stark deserts, walk the streets and highways, paths and parks that the heroes of the past walked during war and held hands on in times of peace. If they could but live under the sky, they would quickly discover why it is so important to keep it cool and blue.
Returning back to domesticity with this unmatched experience could enrich their college or work careers in a profound way. In a few short years we could have a generation of young leaders who have made themselves wise beyond the traditional notion of their years. I see, further, the kids of all nations going out and learning about their own countries. Then in this ever-more cosmopolitan world, during their international travels as adults doing business, making music and art, they would meet others who had taken on the Nomadic experience. We are already becoming a planetary civilization, but these would be the first true Planetary Citizens.
Who would want to make war, blow things up, build barriers, destroy lives, if they had so many widespread former sleep spots that they called home? Who would want to selfishly hoard food or resources after breaking bread with so many others? Who would want to acquire limitless amounts of money after seeing just how generous their hosts were to them when they needed respite from the road? Before someone laughs at these grandiose and seemingly unrealistic ideas, indulge in your own version of this dream. Something like what I have described is going to happen eventually. We are passing out of the age of materialism, and stand on the edge of the New Age of Heroes.
I also would like to clean up the Living Magazine posts--all of them, and produce a limited number of full color printed volumes to be used as a reference work, and donate them to the sociology departments of interested universities and private individuals. I truly believe that sociologists and anthropologists in a more settled future will find this Journey very fascinating. I myself would like a set of thirteen volumes (June 2015 to June 2016) in large format with an accompanying thumb drive containing all the audio and videos; something I can hand down through my family or Deb's, if for some reason I never have kids.
There are so many possibilities. I have shown how to live the simplest life possible. How ridiculous it seems to me now to want a big house with large appliances, or a big waste of space lawn of grass, or to be connected to the power, water, gas, cable grids! Even something small - as I have proposed on the selfsustainingproperty.blogspot.com blog - would be a comparative castle. I want so badly reach this next step. I'm not sure why I constantly am so tempered in this dream by an ever-present foreboding, but it is all part of the triumph or tragedy that I spoke of above. I just can't escape the feeling that I will not reach it. The former would be my heaven on earth, the latter would be my premature departure from this earth. At least I have people to share all of this dreaming with. I used to do it alone. Because I have you all as my companions, I live in hope and not dread...
With all of this swirling around in my head, I had to laugh at myself. What grandeur! What a thoughts for a short, awkward little man to be thinking! I'm just one individual, standing on the borderland of his own personal future. I reached out to the Spark and said, "At the very least please let me complete this one project." And, then my mind returned to the simplicity of the next moment. And, in this fashion I shall continue walking forward, dealing with each situation as it approaches. The future will take care of itself...
Yes!
I bought some cheese and hot dogs to cook up later and a Sprite, then walked back to the house. Working for a while longer, I was able to process some pictures from my trek to Greenfield. When dinner time came, I remembered that Melinda had suggested eating the steak she had in the fridge--sounded better than hot dogs. Seemed like a marvelous idea! I cooked it up in an eight inch skillet, and chomped it down with delight.
I didn't stay up very late that night. I'd wanted to explore Netflix, but never got around to it, going to bed around 10:00 p.m.
The next day went very much like last. I slept in, but not quite as late. Then I worked downstairs and waited for Melinda to return. She came home around 5:30 p.m. and suggested we go get some Chinese food. The woman knows just how to twist my arm. We picked up some yummy food and ate it at the house, talking all the while about her conference and the people there, some of whom I also knew. She'd had a great time and I could tell by her mood that it had been just what it needed to be.
We talked at length again late into the night, discussing her cabin in Boothbay Harbor, Maine. I asked her if I might be able to meet her up there this summer. She agreed that would be fun, and even offered to let me stay for a few days after she left, maybe sometime in July. Well, that was something to look forward to! When we headed off to bed, the plan was for me to leave that next afternoon.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.