A Living Magazine - Grounded in Maine - Day 35 - Relief and Work

I felt pretty good when I woke up. I had a feeling some funds would come in on this day. Packing up, and walking back down town, I went straight to the library and checked online. Sure enough, a repeat donor had sent a generous amount. 

This guy had a way (as so many repeat donors do) of helping me out just at the right time. This group of donors is the core of my project. It is they who keep this magazine living. I wish so much that I could tell who they are. I think some folks wouldn't mind, but others just want to stay anonymous. I wouldn't want to mistakenly reveal a person who would be embarrassed by it, so I keep everyone's name under cover.

With this improvement to my circumstance, I could move back down to the Ampersand Café to work. There, I ordered a Rin Tin Tin--a ham and swiss on multigrain, with dijon mustard, a pickle, and a free bag of chips. It was quite good, though I think mayo would have gone better with the sandwich, but I'm not picky. I sure felt better afterwards, reenergized, and happier. Money may not bring happiness, but food sure can (so, I guess since money buys food, that kind of messes that sentiment up, ha!). Anyway, the world was brighter, and I genuinely appreciated it.

I worked for many hours and then left to get a Gatorade for the night in the west part of town... 

Bridge over the Damariscotta River.

Not much else to say about this day. I returned to my sleep spot and watched the sun go down. While in town, I'd also contacted my friend Heather and we planned to meet the next evening. What a relief to be back in business. Sleep came over me right after climbing into the tent.

A Living Magazine - Grounded in Maine - Day 34 - Hungry Day in Scottie

The sleep spot turned out to be quite nice. It was level and the pine needles made a fairly soft pad. Over the next few evenings I would improve it a bit but not a lot. Since McDonald's was only about 500 feet away, and I'd saved a couple of dollars for coffee, I headed there.

About an hour into my work, I heard someone say, "Is that Green Bean?" (referring to my backpack). I turned around to see an old high school friend, Peter. It was his wife who I had breakfast with back in Freeport. Peter was also the one who used to send me ads for land in Maine before I left the state two years ago...

Peter and Alex.

We had a good talk, having not seen each other for over 30 years. He was on his way further up the coast to do some work. So, we said goodbye and he took off. I was being surprised by old friends here in the Pine Tree State. Apparently, I'm recognizable. Not sure what I think about that. Ha! Still, these were great folks and catching up seemed to be part of the pattern for this Journey.

I worked for a few more hours, then left to go back to the library which had been closed the day before but was open on this day...

A laughing gull. I don't remember ever seeing one. He really stood out among

the other gulls because of his black head. And he seemed more bold,

just hanging out at a table right next to a family eating outside McDonald's.

The tablet was low on power and McDonald's had no outlets. It was only a mile (20 minutes) to the downtown area. The Skidompha Library was nice. There were a few places to work. I chose the little café area. Unfortunately, the Wi-Fi was spotty at best. Over the next few hours I became pretty frustrated with it. A library should have a first rate internet service. I think this was the worst out of the hundred or so libraries I've been to around the nation. Yet, I was able to charge the tablet and was thankful for that.

Eventually I moved down a couple doors to a small sidewalk table outside the Ampersand Café, piggybacking on their comparatively fast and reliable Wi-Fi signal. It was sad to see these two signs on a power pole... 

A stolen cat... Seriously?

On the other hand it was nice to see this sticker--a sign of things shortly to come...

As much as I tried to ignore it, my hunger was getting bad again. I decided that I needed to forage for whatever I could. Damariscotta has a different assortment of wild plants, not as many wild edibles as Boothbay had. I walked down to the waterfront and sat on a bench there. It was a nice day and there were other people on the adjacent benches lining the shore.

I'd hoped to get some bladderwrack seaweed, but the tide was high--of course. The other problem was that there was no bladderwrack, only the tasteless rockweed (Ascophyllum nodosum), which is hardly edible in the food sense, and pretty fibrous. It is typically sold as a garden fertilizer and livestock feed...

Nevertheless, I was feeling desperate and wanted something in my stomach. When I felt I could grab some without being stared at I stepped down onto the rocks and did my thing...

It was like eating rubberized hay. I filled my empty soda bottle halfway with seawater and sipped a bit as I chewed, and chewed, and chewed... This made it a bit more like a soup and at least gave a salty flavor. Eating all that you see in the photo above, maybe a quarter pound, I did feel temporarily full. I know how all of this sounds to folks who would never lower themselves to such behavior.

Try to bear in mind... I'm experimenting with wild food and accumulating quite a list of items. I'm not just a crazy guy whose standards are sinking. Yes, I may be "that guy," but not just that guy. Nor do I seek to be a 21st Century Yule Gibbons (although I have eaten pine flesh--the soft inner bark of a pine tree and spruce buds). I feel that this testing is important. Other people have researched and exploited these wild alternatives, but few of them have done so out of necessity. I truly want to know what I can eat when I have no money to buy conventional food. I want to be able to survive without money if necessary. Nay, I need to be able to survive without money. The Modern Nomad must utilize every option. Perhaps someday such activities will not be so frowned upon by polite society?

After eating my "meal" I left to get back to the sleep spot. There was really nothing more I could do on this day..

I watched the sun go down from my sleep spot and being a bit bored left my symbol on a small beech tree...

Hoping the next day might bring in a donation, I went to sleep early.

A Living Magazine - Grounded in Maine - Day 33 - Boothbay Harbor to Damariscotta

Overnight Melinda's daughter arrived. So, in the morning I got to meet her and have breakfast with both of them. I was scheduled to go to Damariscotta next, and they drove me up the River Road to "Scottie" (the local nickname). 

When we got there we poked around Reny's (the famous Maine discount store). This was the original location of the store. There are now 15 other stores throughout the state. I was searching for the cheapest possible socks. In among the $12 and $15 pairs I found a $2 pair.

Then I went with them to Rising Tide Community Market, a "cooperative business dedicated to being a trusted community-based resource for high quality, natural, sustainable foods and goods." Neat place, very friendly but a bit out of my price range.

It was time to part. I had fallen behind considerably on the blog and needed to head back out on my own from there. We all exchanged a goodbye hug, and they drove off.

I went over to the Dollar Tree to get some pumpkin seeds and then walked back into town, planning to go to the library to work...

The Chapman Hall House.

It was closed. A minor pet peeve of mine is libraries that aren't open on Mondays. But shit, I got over it and continued down to the Ampersand Café, part of the Maine Coast Book Shop. Having about $4 left in the world, I looked for the least expensive item in the place. And, thankfully the café gods had placed half a dozen day old chocolate cookies in a basket and marked them half off. Fifty nine cents later I was in business at one of the tables.

This would turn out to be a good place to work. They had fast Wi-Fi, AC outlets and several other folks were there working online at the surrounding tables--some with no food or drink. I was in my element.

I worked the rest of the day there publishing a post, then took off to find a sleep spot. I saw on Google Earth that there were plenty, so I just played it by ear as I walked back up toward Hannaford. I planned to go to McDonald's which was very nearby for coffee the next morning to continue my work.

I found a spot across from the Head Tide Bakery. It was pretty close to the street. I didn't mind though, having slept next to hundreds of roads. The sound of cars going by doesn't even register with me anymore. I walk next to them, work next to them, and sleep next them... It's only the assholes who peel out of parking lots or beep impatiently that remind me just how ubiquitous traffic has become in my life.

I was worried about money again and kept feeling like something was missing from the night, but wasn't quite sure what it was until I climbed into the tent. Then I realized what it was: peace of mind. I'd spent so much time with Melinda, being essentially cared for by her. But posting all those great meals was deceptive. These Journeys are quite literally feasts followed by famines. Already, the experience of never knowing what was going to happen the next day was a bipolar one. Mix in food insecurity, and my obsessively deep mind just couldn't rest...

I stayed up a few hours just thinking. And, afflicted by this kind of temperament, I began to drift through all the other unresolved subjects in my life. I desire so many relatively simple things: time to write my several books, a permanent place to call my own, growing my own food, having a romantic relationship with a woman... 

They dangle at the ends of strings about two inches above my head. Lunging for them causes the strings to be withdrawn. Gently reaching for them tends to drive me insane. Hoping the strings will lengthen is all I have. Fortunately, hope may die during the night but is always reborn with each new sunrise. I fell asleep, eager for the new sunrise.

Damariscotta Sleep Spot.

A Living Magazine - Grounded in Maine - Day 32 - Visiting Melinda: New Family in the Calculus of Life

 Melinda's breakfasts just don't quit...

Fried eggs with provolone cheese, blueberry muffin, avocado, and bananas.

I made my daily commute...

Another great painting at Joy to the Wind Gallery.

Before leaving Maine two years ago, I'd never known about the love locks.

I've seen them in nearly every state now, usually on bridges.

I worked outside the Red Cup Coffeehouse, then outside the library (it was closed for Sunday). Then I walked around a bit. I found a crabapple tree and some ripe rose hips near the ferry landing, and picked a bunch to bring back and process for snacks...

Rose hips are a bit of a challenge. They need to be cleaned. The smaller ones are almost not worth it. Thankfully there were a few large ones too. I cut them in half and scraped out the seeds from the inside, then flatten them out a bit to be rinsed along with the cut up apple pieces...

Together with the bladderwrack chilling from a couple days before, I had a nice snacking portion of foraged food...

We had sandwiches, and Melinda made clam chowder for me, with salad. Lovely. I took a short evening walk back to the Fisherman's Memorial; a place I like to go to think...

I forgot to mention that the night before we watched an incredible movie called, August Rush. I personally think that every musician should watch this film. I could identify with it very strongly, because I too have always heard music in all things. The Universe IS a kind of music; sometimes discordant, usually in tune, and on rare occasions, in perfect harmony. The movie had a great plot and terrific acting. The writing was superior and leaves one continuing to make connections long after watching. I like movies that complete circles. This one did not disappoint.

* * * * * * *

NEW FAMILY IN THE CALCULUS OF LIFE

As we talked, Melinda told me about an event in her past that was one of those rare times when (as I saw it) a choice is so natural, yet bold and brave as to change the lives of both one's self and another. I won't go into details of her story, out of respect for her privacy, but I think a general story could be written about it. Hearing what happened was as much a teachable moment for me, as it had been for her years ago. It is still stuck in my mind and is serving as a focus of my meditation lately. And I have some thoughts about this in retrospect.

Truly, other people who have had a lifetime of interesting experiences can impart a kind of wisdom not available in one's own personal life. We adults, when we're young, think we know everything. And, it's interesting that as we learn just how different the world is from our expectations and assumptions, it is as if we grow up again. When I was in my twenties, I was sure that I had the answers to the world's problems and I thought I could easily judge those who were older than I was. But I was wrong.

Now that I have reached middle age, I have learned that it was only in the remaking of myself that the true meaning began to appear. I realize how silly I was half a life ago. But, honestly, I don't think that that message can be comprehended by people under thirty. They simply must go through the emotional topology of the years to come and actually see the highest heights and the lowest lows. Becoming a caring human being, through open minded reflection is a way to continue growing up. CAREful examination of one's own reactions (and in this case Melinda's reaction to the situation she described) to uncomfortable, challenging and uncertain circumstances - especially when relating to difficult people - is how the soul grows.

I once heard that Knowledge plus Experience equals Wisdom (K + E = W, if you will). Personally, and perhaps only for me, there is a spiritual parallel for the development of my own soul. Three kinds of mind are involved in this development: The superconscious preexistent Spark, the conscious temporary human-animal, and the embryonic subconscious but potentially eternal soul. 

Using the variables above, the Spark provides or confirms K, the human-animal acquires E, and the two together grow the W of the soul. As no man or woman is an island, so no soul develops without the algebra of other developing souls. And this process might be comparatively described as the calculus of life.

In the ocean of humanity we might think of ourselves as drops--being the smallest amount of water that surface tension can hold together--like geometric points. In calculus (being the geometry of motion) curves are made of points (derivatives) that are as close to zero as possible, without being zero. As streams of water describe actions that flow out of and into the ocean, so do the curves describe functions. Streams sometimes separate out into drops, while drops sometimes combine to form streams. That is how they function.

We may be individual drops, but our lives can only be appreciated in relation to the streams in which we participate. When we come together as Melinda I had on this evening, we not only learn from and teach each other, but our permanent essences - our souls - exchange the salinity of individual experience, creating something new in return. This newness can then more easily be transferred to other people. 

Most people would prefer to have the water of their consciousnesses keep going after the human-animal has turned to salt. Drops from the ocean cast onto the rocks of death leave only salt remaining. But water having once contained salt is thereby changed by that compound. Its quantum state may retain the memory. 

I don't mean all of this to be so obtuse or enigmatic as to lose the general feeling I am trying to express. Some folks are literal-minded, while others are symbol-minded. I happen to belong to the latter group. Yet, I can appreciate how convoluted these things may appear to the former. Therefore, let me try to tie these loose ends back together.

Nothing happens without a Reason, in my opinion. As experienced as I am in life, I still require E components that I have not had access to in order for my W to continue growing. Through Melinda's edifying story, I was able to add a new angle of approach to my own thinking. What was her E is now also my E. The K available to both of us, but only experienced by one of us (her), has now informed our collective W. It made me realize that we have become family.

Ultimately, isn't that what family is? Two people, through trust, become friends. Some friendships dissolve, because that trust is lost. But, when trust transforms into love (defined here, as giving without the expectation of receiving back), friends become a new family. Family isn't blood. It is shared experience, inspired by love. 

For the last two years I have referred to the friends I made who are older than me as Uncle or Aunty (picked up from observing the similar Hindu habit of personal address). Friends around my age are Brother and Sister. This means I have moved beyond trusting them, to loving them. Now, I can use how I address these folks by the context of what I've written above...with intention. It took me all this time, and the visit with Melinda in Boothbay, to fully define for myself what a genuine family is.

We drops of water in the stream, we points along the curve, we souls gaining wisdom... We are the new family, joining our experiences, via the calculus of life offered by the collective actions of our Sparks, as combined with our individual life experiences. We are turning trust into love. That's how I know that Melinda is my Aunty. And wherever she is, there, will be my family.

* * * * * * *

A Living Magazine - Grounded in Maine - Day 31 - Visiting Melinda: Coastal Maine Botanical Gardens

Today we had special plans. Melinda had a membership to the Coastal Maine Botanical Gardens, and she could bring a guest for free. On this day the guest would be me! I had considered going there on the way down the peninsula, but the $16 admission was a bit too rich for my blood. I thought it was a shame, considering how much I love plants. This was surely a great gift! We left for the short ride up to Boothbay.

The muted sunshine in the morning made taking pictures much easier. I will run down through the following shots. I cannot remember the names of every plant and will label them only when possible. I would however be very happy if readers were to fill in the unnamed plants, by commenting here or at Facebook. For now, let's take a walk through the garden... 

Artichoke.

Lamb's ear.

A blue mud wasp, nearly two inches in length.

Grape vines.

Kinetic sculpture.

Lily pond.

A labyrinth.

A honey bee.

Basils and lettuces.

Red hibiscus.

We had seen the herb and kitchen gardens. Now we walked through the children's garden. This area was wonderful for kids. It had small houses and projects they could work on, even a tool shed where they could choose the tools they wanted...

Loved this! A live black chicken hanging out with a white porcelain friend.

Painting donated by Melinda's friend--the same one who gives classes for the watercolor

woodblock paintings mentioned in Day 21 of this Grounded in Maine Journey.

An air plant.

Kids' tool shed.

A passionflower, one of my favorite flowers of all time.

"You must DO something to make the world more beautiful."

Now it was on to the Zen Meditation Garden, down near the water, on a long and winding path...

Highbush blueberries.

This was interesting. I picked a root and chewed on it. Quite nice!

A sphere made out of resin.

Fern garden.

This stone work reminded me of DNA.

A circle of polished marble.

Down near the tram stop, was the woods of fairy houses, where people could make small structures out of branches, rocks and moss for the fairies who need to bed down at night...

A very strange sculpture that looked like a hundred oars stuck

onto the outer cylinder of a boat's drive shaft. 

Looking across Back River at Sawyer's Island.

These are runes. I did a bit of research in trying to decipher what was meant by this order.

From left to right: uruz (strength, the letter "u"), mannaz (horse, the letter "m"),

inguz (Ing - a god, the letters "ng"), gebo (gift, the letter "g"), and ansuz (god, the letter "a").

But still I have no idea what the artist's meaning is.

We hopped aboard the tram and got a ride back to the main building...

First time I'd ever seen a bumble bee with orange like this.

The Bombus ternarius, or orange-belted bumblebee.

Pink hibiscus.

We'd had a great time visiting the Botanical Gardens, but were getting hungry...

Sculpture on the way out.

Melinda had one of her hankerings; this time for a lobster roll. I think she had heard me talk about it earlier in the week and thought it would be a nice treat. We headed to Karen's Hideaway (716 Wiscasset Rd, Boothbay). She had mentioned the place several times. I was really looking forward to lobster.

When we got there, we parked and walked up to the porch window. A nice gentleman and his young son took our order. We each ordered a lobster roll with just butter. It came with coleslaw. We sat and talked until the food arrived. They really pack the meat in. It was a whole lobster on each bun. We dumped the butter over our rolls and dug in. Out of this world. I must have been seriously distracted by eating, because I didn't even get a picture! The coleslaw was made with a rich, real cream, wasn't too sweet, and had a nice fresh crispness to it.

Even though delicious, the meal was a bit too rich. We both suffered a mild hangover afterward. But it was well worth it. In writing this today, I'm trying not to let my stomach growl. There have been no donations, and the last thing I had was a coffee yesterday morning--no food since breakfast two days ago. I'm quite hungry. Writing about the food we enjoyed is a kind of masochism. It is like drinking sea water when you're thirsty. It feels like fresh water, but the taste just reminds you that you are about to become more parched. 

Back in Boothbay Harbor, Melinda dropped me off at the library so I could work. When I was done I took a few shots as I walked back to the cottage...

A look inside the bridge house.

A look inside a house for sale near Melinda's street.

There was no need for dinner. We talked for a long while, as we had been doing for the last few days. Then before bed I went for a night walk...

The Catholic Church.

A look across the harbor from the Fisherman's Memorial.

I returned to the cottage and went to bed, with flowers, bees, runes, rocks, water, lobster rolls, and sunsets swimming around in my head. Nice day.