Usually, after every Journey I post seven Epilogues. I am not going to do that for the aborted Grounded in Maine Journey. There was no wrap-up or summation. There will be only this post.
Regardless of the reason, I feel like I failed to complete my project. That has not happened before since I'd left Maine in 2014. It all just fell apart. That's all. It's done.
Unless I have steady funding (either by saving up or obtaining a patron or benefactor of some kind) I think those months-long Journeys are over. Physically I can still handle them, but the uncertainty of revenue - not that there wasn't enough, only that I never knew when or how much would come in - is just too much for me to handle now. I proved that it is possible, even in perpetuity, to live as I did. And, I feel that I have made my point about the extremes of simplifying life--maybe several points about it. Now I'm ready to use what I have learned in the varied fields I reported on to build something more lasting.
The Modern Nomad should know when he or she has proven to the world and himself or herself that there are still ways to live independently outside the most hypocritical parts of the social game.
Curiously, only one person out of the 2,000 or so who had supported and followed my adventures across America in the last year has contacted me privately by email or Facebook message on their own since the end of August. I did receive a very nice handmade get well card in the mail from another friend (thank you, Sandi!). I also received one donation since leaving the hospital 40 days ago. The lack of donations is certainly understandable. Why donate if there's nothing being posted?
Physically, I'm really back to where I was before this second heart attack. There was some damage done, but it isn't going to slow me down physiologically. I'm ready to get going with my life again. I'm certainly not disabled!
As usual my barrier is stress, financial and psychological. The pressure of owing enough money to buy a house is stifling for someone without any kind of healthcare insurance. But I'm working on that. I am phobic about debt to begin with, having not incurred any for about ten years. Yet, after three hospital days I now owe more than I ever have in my life or ever will be able to pay off. Furthermore, being forced back into a healthcare system that I utterly despise accounts for the psychological part of my stress. I told my new and very kind cardiologist about this, and he said in his thick Indian accent, "No! No stress, NO stress! Not good for the heart!" I just looked at him. He nodded and turned away, fully understanding the irony.
My freedom of movement is curtailed for the foreseeable future, not because I'm sick, but because I need to be available for doctor appointments. I am biding my time and examining what actually is and isn't necessary with all of this medical attention and medication. When I have a real handle on what is really going on, I will determine my own priority list. For now, diplomacy with the white coated ones and the gathering of information is what is required. These appointments will thin out as the weeks go by.
On another subject, I find myself frequently remembering back to different events that took place during the Manifest Destiny and Living Magazine Journeys. These memories are very much like flashbacks. I think this is happening because subconsciously I am trying to reassure myself as I starve again for a while longer--due to the stagnant life in which I am currently living. It makes sense that I would still be processing those Journeys. The last two years weren't just a waste of time. There was something of substance to it all.
That these flashbacks to roadsides, campsites, cityscapes, people I met all across America, etc., are happening at all are - I think - the natural consequences of having lived through a very intense, dense, and drawn out experience. It is very much like what a soldier must go through upon returning to the so-called "normal" life. Though my vivid memories are mostly positive, like the soldier I cannot control when they will occur nor what will be presented in them. I suppose there is also a bit of PTSD going on from the heart attack. Who knows?
I still don't know what my living situation will be over the winter. You can bet that I will report on whatever it is as best I can. When I was on the road I could always rely on the fact that I'd be in another place soon. It was dynamic. I never became a fixture in any one place. But being stuck here in the Portland area is giving me a real lesson in just how much of a second class citizen I have become.
I will expound upon this occasionally in coming weeks. Everything from crossing the road, to shopping for food, to dealing with DHHS, to being in the health clinic waiting room; it really is amazing just how differently one is treated here at bottom of society. Retailers are dismissive, professional people are patronizing, everyday middle class people are judgmental. Whether this "lifestyle" is chosen or forced, those of us immersed in it can really feel and see how different we are. We can expect a lack of respectability and a loss of personal power. People ignore and become impatient with the poor simply because they can.
Unless self-controlled by higher ethics, human beings like to feel like they are part of a winning group. It makes them feel better to know that others are below them. The very poor have to just accept their lowest-level standing. They can't do anything about it, usually.
I am fortunate that I have the intellectual and educational capacity to at least write about what it's like. I also have the advantage (if you can call it that) of having once lived life on the more financially fortunate side of the tracks. It gives me a much broader perspective about the stark differences, even as I know more surely now just what I am missing (besides respect and personal power)--the security I used to have.
Most of the people who live here at the bottom are not like me. They are what I would call the "indigenous poor." They are the result of generations of poverty. For them, it isn't a trap. It is where they believe they must belong. They have accepted their second class status as did many of their ancestors. They do not have the education nor the personal experience to oppose their lot in life. Of course all of society in general has taken the bottom for granted, while paying lip service about changing the situation. I know, because I was once in this latter group.
My point about all of this today is that, like it or not, I am in a unique position as a writer, and I will seek to exploit it, by reporting on this second class existence.
Finally, I have come up with a plan for the foreseeable future. It will include...
I guess that pretty much fills in the gap between the Grounded in Maine Journey and whatever will eventually offer a more secure life. For the hell of it, I am open to paid suggestions for other projects too.
Thank you for reading, sharing, and morally and financially supporting these projects. If you would like to send some funds my way, please click on the PayPal Donate button at the top of this blog page.
I still don't know what my living situation will be over the winter. You can bet that I will report on whatever it is as best I can. When I was on the road I could always rely on the fact that I'd be in another place soon. It was dynamic. I never became a fixture in any one place. But being stuck here in the Portland area is giving me a real lesson in just how much of a second class citizen I have become.
I will expound upon this occasionally in coming weeks. Everything from crossing the road, to shopping for food, to dealing with DHHS, to being in the health clinic waiting room; it really is amazing just how differently one is treated here at bottom of society. Retailers are dismissive, professional people are patronizing, everyday middle class people are judgmental. Whether this "lifestyle" is chosen or forced, those of us immersed in it can really feel and see how different we are. We can expect a lack of respectability and a loss of personal power. People ignore and become impatient with the poor simply because they can.
Unless self-controlled by higher ethics, human beings like to feel like they are part of a winning group. It makes them feel better to know that others are below them. The very poor have to just accept their lowest-level standing. They can't do anything about it, usually.
I am fortunate that I have the intellectual and educational capacity to at least write about what it's like. I also have the advantage (if you can call it that) of having once lived life on the more financially fortunate side of the tracks. It gives me a much broader perspective about the stark differences, even as I know more surely now just what I am missing (besides respect and personal power)--the security I used to have.
Most of the people who live here at the bottom are not like me. They are what I would call the "indigenous poor." They are the result of generations of poverty. For them, it isn't a trap. It is where they believe they must belong. They have accepted their second class status as did many of their ancestors. They do not have the education nor the personal experience to oppose their lot in life. Of course all of society in general has taken the bottom for granted, while paying lip service about changing the situation. I know, because I was once in this latter group.
My point about all of this today is that, like it or not, I am in a unique position as a writer, and I will seek to exploit it, by reporting on this second class existence.
Finally, I have come up with a plan for the foreseeable future. It will include...
1. Publishing new posts at this IWALLK blog every Monday and Friday, covering a variety of topics.
2. Continuing to repost the Living Magazine and Homecoming adventures from last year at the IWALLK America - Journeys Facebook group (please join it if you haven't already), day by day, until June 21 of 2017. At this time we are at the 114th day's post of 367 there.
3. Reposting the Manifest Destiny: America from the Bottom Up Journey, starting on October 22 of this year, while tweaking it, cleaning it up and filling in missing days. In other words, on October 22, two Journey posts a day will be published at the Facebook group at the same time; one from last year and one from two years ago.
4. Publishing new posts at the Self Sustaining Property blog every Wednesday, as I continue to plan for buying land, building a small cottage with off grid utilities and developing the property into a sustainable garden.
5. Writing three books related to my Journeys which will eventually be published both digitally and in print.
6. Recording and producing some music.
7. Picking away at a business plan for a creative cultural club.For the most part, the focus will be on the blogs, since they have the largest potential for bringing in desperately needed contributions. The books are next in priority, because they can be sold and be a modest source of income. Yet, I also aim to hedge my bets by returning to music with recording and production, while keeping my business instincts sharp by steadily developing the club venture.
I guess that pretty much fills in the gap between the Grounded in Maine Journey and whatever will eventually offer a more secure life. For the hell of it, I am open to paid suggestions for other projects too.
* * * * * * *
Thank you for reading, sharing, and morally and financially supporting these projects. If you would like to send some funds my way, please click on the PayPal Donate button at the top of this blog page.
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