A couple procedural items; 1 - I thought I was done this blog, or at least I wondered, 2 - I am definitely planning a new blog, or to go completely public with this one, at some point probably later this year, 3 - I guess I'm not done.
I printed some entries for a special friend to see her off on a journey, and the first printing goofed, so I kept it. It's been weird to re-read on paper some of the turning points, big and small, of my life of the last few years.
One of the things I love about having a blog - it's a public commitment to who you are. In re-reading I've realized a few things, themes:
- Sailing! Yikes. It's come up in people I've spent time with, and all over my writing, I hadn't really noticed how prevalent it is.. I said in my very first entry "I can take a hint!" - can I? Why haven't I learned to sail yet?
Oh, father of the four winds, fill my sails, across the sea of years
With no provision but an open face..
Another, and this has been a developing theme - is the sacredness of life. Our lives. That life is essentially miraculous. The mundane is only an illusion. That's what all the coincidences have been about and the truth they've led me to. On the way back from a no-pipeline rally in Victoria on Monday we were listening to cbc radio, and this show came on about belving - making stag mating calls to attract deer.. and we all made fun of it. I woke up last night (Tuesday) around 4 or 5 am, not sure why, and then, right outside my window, loud and clear, a friggin deer - bbrr--rr-r--r--rrr!!, or however you spell that...
I'll continue an entry - Irish Faerie..
- when I got to the ferry terminal in Dun Loaghaire (DunLeary) I was hungry, so I dropped my backpack in front of this older lady, asked her to watch it, and wandered off for some french fries before she could answer. When I got back she looked at me like I was the boldest person ever, and she scolded me for leaving my bag with someone I'd never met. I offered her some fries, and after we chatted for a few minutes she offered me a lift from the ferry terminal at Holyhead, in Wales, to a small town half way to London. My flight left from Gatwick the next evening.
Despite my willingness to sleep outdoors, it was dark when we got to her town and she offered me her son's bedroom. He was a diplomat with the UK. She had proud pictures on the mantle, as she should have. I was glad for it because I was pretty tired from 'testing fate' all day..
She made me a nice breakfast, dropped me off at the highway, and I wish I could remember her name. I send my thanks regardless. I got a ride or two and got dropped off at a truck stop. I was making good time, but there was still some risk of missing my plane if things didn't go well, for instance - if I ended up somewhere with a lot of other people waiting for rides...
At the truck stop there were a bunch of punks hitching, they were in a couple groups of three or four. You couldn't walk or hitch-hike on the highway. They had a few dogs, and looked surly and unfriendly. Particularly at me: the competition.
We Canucks do things differently. It would be quite some time before they all cleared out, I realized. Instead of skulking away or pulling some hard line, I walked up to a group with an orange-haired dude, who looked 'leaderish', and asked how how the hitching was. They looked at me like I had three heads, they had never seen someone, it seemed, simply be friendly and upfront with them before..
I chatted for a minute about my trip and before they could rally their senses and re-raise the mask of aggression, I said, "well, you guys were here first, so good luck, I'm kinda hungry, so I'm gonna go sit on that hill and have a snack while I wait for you to get a ride.."
You see, it's a rule of hitch-hiking - you don't usurp someone else's spot. You go behind whoever's there first, or you wait somewhere until they get picked up. It's about order! ;)
I hadn't sat down five minutes when the orange haired dude came running over to me in his studded leather jacket and dock marten boots, and told me there was a guy going right where I was - to Gatwick. I thought, "wtf? I haven't even finished my rye bread and sardines.." The funniest part was, and the most reflective of something else, something.. sacred - someone stopped for the mean tough punks, and they gifted the ride to me..
The guy was about my age, in an old beamer, and was going to pick up his girlfriend at the airport, so I thanked the punks and off I went - to my destination with time to spare. Why? Because I had a loose grip on life, I wasn't trying to control anything..
I ended my first entry with, and a new friend / fellow blogger reflected it back at me recently; "Let's not be afraid to be the best we have inside ourselves. And let's not hide it away."
I've always been sensitive about my being sensitive, and the fact that I wear my heart on my sleeve. It has not generally served me well in romance, and I've come to view it over the years as being pretty un-sexy. I've had girlfriends tell me, "girls don't like that." I can now safely say - I don't wanna go out with those girls.
I can see I'm still on a 'journey,' and another theme of this blog, and my life, has been 'letting go.' I've had lots of friends counsel me over the last few years, as I waded through relationship problems or plain singleness - to be more of a player. They didn't use that word, but you know - 'don't tell people how you feel, don't show your hand,' etc. And I think I wrestled with it, trying to be me, and at the same time - feeling like I was doing things wrong in some way, that I could 'improve.' I'm not. One of my first entries was partially titled, "I Am That." Well, I am not that. Not good at it, not interested in it.
40. A nice solid number. I feel pretty solid. I think the whole reason women found me un-sexy when I was like that was because I thought I was, I was insecure about it. I'm seeing myself in a whole new light. The woman in my life, in my future, will be one who says, "a guy who actually waits for someone, uninvited, just on principle and to be true to himself (and whatever potential is there)? wow, now that's sexy."
It's part of the sacredness of life, for me. I work a lot these days, and it's also been funny to see (in reading over those old entries) how much I partied and goofed off in those journey-times. These days I enjoy simpler pleasures. The waitee - that doesn't even know I'm doing that, we just recently connected and never had a chance to discuss it..
Why? Life is sacred. If you want a certain life, you have to take the steps that can get you there. These two entries, this and Irish Faerie - describe the end of a month long hitch-hiking trip through Europe in 1994(?). I've written about it in detail because - every step I took, I took in faith, perfect faith - that it would all work out, somehow, as it was supposed to.
And - I knew I'd be fine regardless. I've been applying that to other parts of life lately, to more of life, like I said in Return of the Errand Knight (travels in a luminous world), regarding my penchant for walking around in the dark, "if you just put your foot out, the ground'll show up eventually.." (paraphrased;) = Trust.
I know that the only way to get to the point I want romantically is to treat all matters of the heart as sacred, and, just like my ferry that was two and a half hours late, and magical rides to the airport, it will work out somehow - I don't need to know how. I'm waiting for someone I barely know (but am certainly interested in getting to know better), but more importantly, it is the act of waiting, which is in accord with my deepest sense of who I am - that will ultimately deliver whatever it is meant to deliver. And just like the question of whether I'd stay and live in Ireland, or come back to Canada - all will be revealed..
I've spent over two years now building my dynamic life of adventure and service, and maybe one day it'll be ready to share. In this time off blogging, and part of the reason I'm back, I realized I'm certainly not done travelling, and that I want a retreat too, however humble. Someplace that's mine to return to. And - I want someone to share it all with.
For now - I'm sitting on a grassy knoll eating some rye bread and sardines, waiting for the wheels of fate I've put in motion to come around..
I am a traveler of both time and space, to be where I have been
To sit with elders of the gentle race, this world has seldom seen
They talk of days for which they sit and wait, all will be revealed...
