A Theosophical Solstice Soiree

Soundtrack: Juventa - Move into the Light

Martin and Susan Leiderman in front of everyone

I have been hearing about Dara Eklund and Nicholas Week's Solstice parties for years. So when given the opportunity to attend this year, I held together a thin veneer of calm amidst my excess of internal excitement when I graciously accepted my invite. It's not an exclusive event or anything, I just wasn't close enough to the Los Angeles area before, and I am easily excitable about any social gathering of Theosophists.

Amber pointed out my geekiness later, but I don't care. I was surrounded by people who had written articles, books, and given lectures about one of the few things that really interest me. They are just people, but I am grateful to them.

Dara, Natividad, Me, and Amber

Just to illustrate my point, at some juncture of the party Dara greeted Amber and I; she took my hands in hers and sincerely said, "Thank you for coming to my home." As if an automatic response, I said in return, "Thank you for Echoes of the Orient, Dara." When my brain figured out what I just said, I did feel a little embarrassed. Luckily for me, there were some people playing music at the time and she didn't hear me clearly, so she smiled and assumed I gave a pat response greeting.

At the beginning of the party everyone sat down facing the front of the porch for a Solstice lecture, which was very well done by Susan Leiderman on the spiritual concept of Nothingness in lieu of the Solstice. Before that, an announcement was made that they had two very special guests who had come from the national headquarters in Wheaton, Il. It was one of those situations where you think to yourself, "They can't be talking about me. But wait, yes, they probably are talking about me." I had worked there for years, and I didn't see anybody else it could be.

They announced Amber and I, and we stood up in front of everyone and thanked them for their welcome. After I sat down, Robert Ellwood leaned over to me and asked, "But you're not still from Wheaton, right? You've been living in San Diego, correct?"

I shrugged and said, "They told me to stand, so I stood. How could I correct them?" He nodded in agreement in typical Robert Ellwood fashion. If I could get Theosophy trading cards, one of them would have Mr. Ellwood doing that reserved grin he does. I joke about it now, but I may need to invent Theosophy trading cards one day. (Update: This grin: robertellwoodbooks.info  See? I'm not making this up.)

A Constant Theosophical Topic

Even though it was such a homey environment, it still felt like a meeting in some ways. Dara made some announcements from her La-Z-Boy for example. She said something that made me a little sad, in that this would be last year she and Nicholas could have the annual party held at her house for health reasons. She also mentioned in passing that she knows many Theosophists have been losing their meeting places, as her group had also lost the capability to fund their gathering place.

I am in a unique place in this, in that I am a young Theosophist who has mostly come in contact with Theosophy at it's major center of business. People at the headquarters mostly focus on processing memberships, library books, printing magazines, and video production. Yet I suspected from my lectures at local lodges that there was an issue of dwindling outreach and interest in Theosophy. It is not exactly like living inside the palace, but it is certainly a different perspective of priorities.

Vic Hao Chin, who I will say would also make an excellent trading card, used to give lectures on how to spread Theosophy and why we should be focusing on it. Popularizing Theosophy or something to that effect. I always found myself hanging on his every word, but some people found his approach abrasive in that it made them feel like missionaries or proselytizers. I look around at this culture of people studying Buddhism, Kabalah, Gnosticism, and I think that this is the time! They are already here! But we don't want to leave our safe buildings and talk to people outside our comfort circle. We want them to come to us.

New Friends

Amber actually had some fun at the party as well. Both my wife and I are reclusive and introverted people in different ways. She gets bored at parties quite easily, for example. For me, I suppose I'm only interested in people who either talk about spirituality or comic books. When I got a plate of food and went to sit down next to Amber she waved me away from the seat next to her.

"Why can't I sit here?" I asked, courteously leaving out the rest of my sentence, which was "...next to the person I am married to!" She said she met a friend. I looked around and saw no one. Was this person named George Glass? Is the person standing here right now, invisible?

She said this person's name is Pattie and she used to live near Chicago like us, and she shares some of the same health ailments that Amber did. "How old are we?" I asked, "You're bonding over griping about your health? We're in our 30's."

I told Amber that she should come meet Martin and Susan Leiderman, who are interested in planning a tour with us to the old Theosophical Krotona location in L.A., possibly with with Stephan Hoeller. That's exciting stuff! I didn't mention that all 3 of those name drops would make excellent trading cards, but it kind of goes without saying.

After I spent my time talking to Nicholas Weeks (trading card) about the San Diego Theosophical Monastary, I returned to my wife and met the very real person, Pattie. Amber was finishing up saying, "...so even though he got scared of commitment since we were only freshman in college, I knew we were meant to be together. Eventually he came to his senses and now we've been married for 7 years."

I politely inquired, "Are you telling a person you just met our entire life's story? Have we even been at this party very long?"

She very accurately pointed out, "You should be glad that I am making friends." She was right. And we all had fun.

The evening concluded with a 3 hour drive back to San Diego with the friends we came with, Ken Small and Phyllis Ryan. Mostly we talked about the best highway route to get back to San Diego, and we joked about the stereotype of Californians ever only talking about the best highway route to get to places. Of course, I could say something about Ken and Phyllis making good Theosophical trading cards but I suppose at this point they are more friends and less like icons to me from these months being in California. Amber and I both think of them as friends by now, and we are lucky for it. So I would definitely get them to sign said trading cards, thus increasing the monetary value. Indeed, that's what friends do.

Here are some pictures of Brutus at Ocean Beach on his birthday, December 6th. Something we would never have thought of doing while back in frozen snow drift land.

 

Krotona, Krotona

Soundtrack: Joe Lutcher - Ojai

I've been in Krotona (a Theosophical school in Ojai) several times this month.

The first time was to meet my current boss in person. When I was moving out to San Diego I had the idea of my ideal job in my mind, something flexible where I could learn more skills online to support my Theosophical work. Through a friend I learned of another Theosophist in San Francisco who was doing network marketing, and could use some freelance help - so that is Nicole! I have been working for her since shortly after I arrived in San Diego.

Kurt Leland and Joy Mills

The second time I drove up to Krotona was to meet up with Kurt Leland, who is a very interesting Theosophist. He and I had been communicating over phone and email, and he helped me with my lecture on kundalini, so when I saw he would be nearby we organized to meet.

A little background about Kurt: He is very much a modern Theosophical mystic. Kurt first had an astral projection experience at the age of 14 years old, and has learned to practice it intentionally since. A lot of his personal spiritual experiences are up on his site kurtleland.com.

I had first learned about Kurt from being at Krotona about 3 years ago. Pablo Sender, Michele Shields, and I had been wandering on campus, especially on top of one of the hills nearby. It was very peaceful. When I told one of the campus residents about our experience she told us that everyone finds that spot peaceful. And in fact a Theosophist from Boston, named Kurt Leland, had clairvoyantly seen a deva (angel) that seemed to dwell in that spot often, to bless the area in a way.

When I met up with Kurt this month, he asked me if I'd like to take a walk with him. The memory of when I first came to Krotona came back to me, but before I could say anything, he explained, "There is a deva here that I like to say hello to everytime I am in the area."

I will say that, once upon a time, I would have been jumping up and down saying, "Hooray! Angel time! We're gonna get some angel souviners!" And, while I will never admit to being either older or wiser, I will say that ever since I've become a Theosophists - I have heard some crazy and verifiable stories about phenomena, and I a have plenty of stories myself. So my actual thought was more like, "Oh good. I would like to say hello to the deva as well."

As we were walking toward the hill, we were talking and Kurt was in mid-sentence, and there was a very particular line that we crossed and he stopped speaking. We kept walking but it felt different. I started laughing because that was just how the mood felt. It was nice.

What does it look like to see a man commune with benevolent spirits? Not like much. He would get quiet and put his hand on the larger older trees from time to time and smile. Then he would smile at me, as if I'd been involved in the conversation that just took place. I didn't mind, everything felt really good, so I was just along for it.

We hung out a few times. He gave me advice when I asked for it, and I told him about the Theosophical monastery, which interested him. He signed some books for me as I left. Good trip.

With Bim and Mel Burckes who ran Far Horizons for roughly 30 years!

The third time I went to Krotona was for the all day Far Horizons board meeting. I was elected again for the board, and I am currently Vice President of said board. It's a mitzvah, in my head, a form of service. I don't know how much I enjoy being in Theosophical politics at this moment, but I love to work for this cause that I believe in. The cause being the Theosophical Movement.

Far Horizons is a wonderful place that has been open to all spiritually minded families and individuals for 60 years. It came closer to closing, for inter-personal reasons, than most people realize. Many worked to save it, including myself, and even though I am new to the area I am working hard for it.

I ran the meeting in the President's absence, and we made good progress. Having the meeting at Krotona really made it feel like we were serving something greater than us, it reminded me of why I'm working so hard. And the smell of the eucalyptus trees on campus always really puts my mind in a calmer state, for some reason.

I look forward to visiting often in the future.

Chronicles of Brutus!

It's called Hoppy Hour. The San Diego House Rabbit Society has recently started to do this massive play date with excessive amounts of rabbits. It's a lot of fun. Ever since our other rabbit, Clover, passed away Brutus sometimes acts bored or lonely so we thought this would be good for him. He was not used to the younger bunnies' energy though. And he's kind of a home body now that he's getting older.

Mostly he just tried to come back to us. There were a couple of bunnies, that didn't socialize as much. But he had a good time. Here is a video!

Thanksgiving

I am grateful to my monastery! Here are some pictures from being with my spiritual family this holiday. I will say that it is a nice change to eat a meal where vegetarianism is just assumed.

Rising Fall

Suggested soundtrack: Medicine by Daughter (Sound Remedy remix) 
or if you don't like techno remixes:
Medicine by Daughter (original)

 

“A person needs new experiences. They jar something deep inside, allowing him to grow. Without change, something sleeps inside us and seldom awakens. The sleeper must awaken.” 

- Dune

 

I gave a lecture in Wheaton, my old home, recently. It was great to see family and friends. The lecture itself was about Kundalini Awakening. You will be able to find it HERE when they post it if it is something that piques your interest.

The other lecture I gave was in Milwaukee entitled The Meaning of Suffering. It is ironic and interesting to me that this lecture is coupled with my first visit home in the Midwest after moving to sunny San Diego. So many people have seasonal affective disorder, and there is this somber overcast for many people in the Fall.

For me, however, October is my favorite month to be in a true Fall season. Not only is everything changing color but being German-Irish, I love the cold overcast. It is suitable that when everyone is depressed I feel very much alive.

I enjoy visiting study lodges, perhaps more than lecturing at the headquarters, because the format allows for more round table discussion. Because of the nature of the subject of suffering, it was even more important that I was upbeat and looked at all the touchy subjects with a sense of compassion. We shared stories about depression and seasonal affective disorder, we talked about the deaths of people close to us, and we talked about the idea of “have to's”.

I explained that the four noble truths the Buddha taught are about freedom from attachment, and we typically think of attachment as desire. “Have to” or “supposed to” is just as much an attachment, and while desire sends us seeking outward for gratification, holding ourselves and the rest of the world accountable to necessary standards leads to depression, because it fuels an anger that goes inward.

Another way of phrasing this is a quote that was once spoken to me: “The pursuit of justice is the end of spiritual growth.” Think on it.

A book I recommend, which I also talked a little about, is by the Theosophist, Vic Hao Chin, entitled The Process of Self Transformation. The intent of the book is to teach a technique purging oneself of stress, painful trauma, phobias, and anger. In essence, to expedite the freedom from suffering.

What I found remarkable about the book, and when I was actually taught the technique, is that it educates you on how suffering works from a spiritual and scientific perspective. The technique incorporates elements from Vipasana meditation, mindfulness practice, energy healing, cognitive psychology, and an understanding of the personal hierarchy of needs. It is also known, although not stated in the book, that there are a number of clairvoyants that Vic trusted who helped him as he was testing and constructing these practices which culminated in his work and the technique of 'processing'.

I've met Vic several times, including the opportunity to learn the technique from him in a class for about a week in Krotona. As I recall, this was almost 3 years ago and I was coming from visiting the San Diego monastery for the first time. I told John Drais where I was going, and he told me to say hi to Vic for him.

When I arrived at the large hall in Krotona I approached Vic and told him my name and that I worked at the national headquarters in Wheaton. He nodded and gave a polite smile, in typical reserved Vic Hao Chin manner. Then I said, “I have the privilege also of bringing greetings from John Drais at Madre Grande Monastery.” I think I may have tilted my head forward a little if I'm remembering it right, unnoticeable to the casual observer, but I was very much feeling like a formal messenger in the moment.

Vic's formal smile broke out into a completely unreserved one. “Oh!” he said, “You just came from the monastery?” I said that I had. “John is a longtime friend of mine, give him my best! How is he?” I said he was doing well. Vic smiled  and said “I am glad. Thank you.”

What I learned from Vic's class, and what I spoke of in both my lectures is the idea that understanding what we are, and how we work in a spiritual and energetic manner, can allow us to function more happily.

 

Past the Horizon

Soundtrack: The Call by Regina Spektor

My intention in what I write, as well as in what I do day to day, is to stay positive. So when I spend the good part of a month in politics, tying up loose ends here and there, or listening to various people vent about different things, it feels like a lot of uneventful stuff sometimes. Perhaps I have a selective memory about these things.

And yet, this was a very eventful month - some of which I would like to focus on more intently with actual narrative later, such as the dedication of the new labyrinth at Madre Grande monastery for the Autumnal Equinox.

The majority of this month was spent volunteering up at Far Horizons camp, and with settling many ongoing political disagreement regarding the wonderful place. I am happy to say that, despite the constant uphill, we are moving toward a good place. Next year the camp will have a more Theosophical focus, and there will be a carefully conducted election this year with the cooperation of everyone involved. At worst, we will have some debt to contend with, but I'll take that over arguing over who gets to be in charge.

Trin and I walking at the running stream off of Far Horizon property.

Another significant benefit of this whole Far Horizons business is that I got to know my Paracelsian Order brethren, Ken and Trin, much better. Ken and Trin became interested in being more involved with the camp since they live at the foot of the mountain in Fresno, to the point of starting a Fresno Theosophical study group. And Trin, being close to my age, has a similar interest as I do in bringing Theosophy to a younger crowd. As such, Trin and I both volunteered up at camp for awhile.

Ken and Trin are both awesome people, and I am glad Amber and I are brothers with them. That's enough to say for now, otherwise it might come off disingenuous.

Other things to be grateful for that happened this month in Amber and my settling into San Diego:

- Amber and I both have jobs. This is such a relief, and I feel as if I can begin focusing more on my mission in Theosophy.

- We have moved down from the mountain into a great place. It is an apartment in an old Victorian house, which is a joy for Amber to be in.

- I have created a curriculum of books to study up at Madre Grande and we have created a regular group to study that material.

- The United Lodge of Theosophists study branch near here has asked me to teach a class on the Mahatma letters.

- I have gotten to know some of the people in a Theosophical town in California.  It is called Halcyon, and the group is called the Temple of the People. They have been involved with Far Horizons for a few years now.
- I got to meet and talk with David Christensen at Far Horizons, who is a Theosophist that I have respected and wanted to meet for a little while now. Do read his article from Quest magazine.

Good things. It is almost time to really dig into my work. But for now, let us just focus on some pictures from Far Horizons, and be grateful for a wonderful opportunity that was granted to me, and the experience to observe all around me as it unfolded.

This tree was dedicated to the Theosophist Geoffrey Hodson (who I wrote an article on once).

The spiritual presence near this tree is palpable to many people who are near it.

A close up picture of the stream taken by Amber

Ken and Trin taking a picture with David Bruce, National Secretary of the TSA

Amber and I with David Bruce. It was good to see him again, as I did work with him for 4 years in Wheaton, IL.

Mount Silimon, a very visible mountain from Far Horizons.

I had fun.

Animals in my Backyard!

Here is my backyard! Lots of happy animals, and I enjoy interacting with them.

It's worth mentioning that Amber and I have learned a lot from being on this farm.  I came in as a vegetarian with an open mind. I'd like to still think I have an open mind, but I have stronger personal convictions on certain aspects of my lifestyle.

Amber and I watched the movie Babe the other night.  It was jarring for us, for a kids movie of all things. We've seen it before and it's a great movie, but during the scene where Farmer Hoggett is aiming his rifle at the unassuming Babe, ready to kill him... Well, Amber lost it entirely. If you recall, this is the exact manner, more compassionately than other farms I would add, in which they killed the pigs here. Amber said we can't stay here, which is something we've known for awhile. It's just a matter of time.

On a Theosophical topic, there's a thought in my head that I've been rolling over for a long time: Which is worse, karmically? Slaughtering animals or eating them? I'm sure there is a sutra on this, but I am exploring it for myself - in a way that is why I am here (on the farm and in life :P ).

The Theosophical view of not eating meat, or alchohol, or smoking is that it pollutes the body, which is the vehicle for the soul and the spirit.  In that sense, it's not wrong per se, but you're not doing yourself any favors by giving yourself another hurdle to overcome. The energy, the light, the grace (whatever you want to call it) that is constantly trying to be of help to you has more dross to try and work through just to get through to you.  If you are depressed, and you medicate yourself with alchohol and drugs, you're just perpetuating the problem.

So on this farm, I have felt that I have been covered in blood the entire time. It is just a feeling, as I am open to that stuff. Amber is less inclined toward the "woo woo" stuff, but she has started to notice it too. There's a heaviness in the air, even though this is a wonderful place and we enjoy it in other ways.  I love the animals themselves. But when we leave and come back, there it is. I'm not saying I have answers to any questions of "Is it better to this or that"; I have no interest in the hubris of certainty. But I definitely notice as one who does not eat meat, being on land with a slaughter grounds affects me.

Sorry to get heavy on the subject. We are very much having a wonderful time and are very happy. I only mention these things so that you can think about it for yourself. Maybe common experiences like this will help other people make positive decisions for themselves. Ok, I'm done with my soapbox.

Please do enjoy this video of animals in my backyard, I enjoy the critters, and I enjoyed making this video!

...But Not Too Far

Soundtrack:
Of Monsters and Men - Dirty Paws

Shortly before leaving from the Wheaton national headquarters of the Theosophical Society, I was elected to be on the board of directors for Far Horizons Camp in the Sequoias of California.  One of my intentions in coming out to California was to find different avenues of service, especially Theosophical ones.  Then suddenly the opportunity to help a Theosophical camp in California appears before me. My response was something like, "Well played, Universe. Well played."

Firstly, I am not one for drama, or even drama associated with politics.  I should say I don't like to dwell on it- I am beginning to gain some aptitude for the game, even though I am not interested in the game itself.  As such, I don't feel it is productive to describe all the details. But guess what? Drama bombs aplenty!

It is actually all very well and good.  Here's my view on political drama, especially in regards to spiritual or altruistic organizations: It is like any spiritual endeavor in that your flaws will rise and bubble to the surface.  It is your choice if you want to try and remove your impurities in the process or if you want to waste the opportunity.  If service is the goal, you will appreciate that you can refine yourself into a purer vessel.  But we all stumble, and usually a part of that stumbling is a regression into childlike emotion.

I am surrounded by people having childlike emotions. I have a few myself. But I really really want to see it clearly; I really want to just observe those around me who are having their issues triggered so I don't judge anything rashly, and so I can have the energy to observe myself,learn from it, and grow myself. In that sense, I am the happiest man alive right now.

Believe It!

On that note, Far Horizons is magical. This is a tag line I've been hearing people say as I made my way up to see it. And always with the same far off dreamy look in their eyes. I was piqued, but suspicious.

It's magical though. It is. Not because of the mountains or the redwood trees everywhere either. In some places there is manifested, by human devotion and spiritual practice, and by extra-human response to said devotion, a profound serenity. Far Horizons has that, despite that it just looks like a summer camp. And now I find myself working even harder to ensure this place retains its sense of wonder amidst the politics.

Amber and I also had the opportunity to spend some time with our Paracelsian brethren, Ken and Trin.  Ken and Trin are so much fun to be around. It is nice to have that community of people in the same position you are, who just want to grow spiritually and to help.  We got to visit Ken and Trin's Live Oak Monastery in San Luis Obispo, which is also magical.  We got to imbibe many flavors of magic on this trip. We really need to muggle it up for the next few weeks just to re-adjust.

Dirty Paws

As we had an adventure, so too did the Chronicles of Brutus continue.  Before the trip he met Sunny, the dog that just showed up at Madre Grande Monastery a few years ago, and has decided to live up to his name ever since. We visited to Monastery right after a sweat lodge, so that we could visit our friends Luis and Ciarra, so Brutus suddenly had a fan club of young people who wanted to see how soft his fur was. He felt this was well overdue that people should line up to pet him.

When we were on the road, we found him a sitter, but that doesn't quite do it justice. We found him a person who has devoted her life turning her home into a rabbit resort, and she just so happens to live near the beach in the upscale town of La Jolla. We will definitely use her again. Brutus was significantly less angry at us than he usually is when we leave town.

One Mountain, Many Perspectives

Soundtrack:
Gipsy Kings cover Hotel California

Theosophists Assemble!

The conclave was afoot.  I did not know the word "conclave" a year ago, but it is much like other impressive words, words like oubliette, catacomb, and autodidact.  These words sound wholly serious, though I would be hard pressed to understand the meaning just by sounding it out.

A conclave is a meeting.  Traditionally one where hard decisions need to be made, to the point where everyone is locked in until a common decision is made. Luckily for the Paracelsian Order, we are all enlightened people and therefore agree on everything, because we can see every eventuality spanning out in front of us like a map across space and time.

Wouldn't that be something?  Actually, the annual Paracelsian Order conclave met at Madre Grande Monastery on June 29th, and there were many ideas and much altruistic passion.  It was great to meet new people, all of us inspired by esoteric teachings and by living according to Theosophical principles.

What's more, is that Amber and I got to walk there through the mountain path leading from our place to the monastery.  We were wandering up just as they were blowing the conch shell to start the conclave.

I was especially happy to meet Allison and Karina this visit, as well as Ken's husband Trin.  Ken and Trin run the Live Oak Monastery in San Luis Obisbo. And of course, I was happy to see Ken, Sally, Monica, Marty, and Jonathan again.  Sunny the dog was also in attendance, but from just outside the glass door to the patio.

What was also nice is that we all knew John Drais, and it is amazing to me that one man can inspire such a forward momentum of dedicated people.  That was kind of the point of this conclave. How can all of us pick up the slack so we move forward successfully?  Even though Amber and I just got here, we are just as willing as everyone else, but talking to everyone and getting their perspective on things helps us all work better as a team and as a family. It's a nice feeling. Also, I am confident Sally will lead things well, especially with Monica to help her.

There Will Be Blood!

Meanwhile, back at the farm, preparations were being made for a July 4th party. What this meant is that there was going to be a smoked pig.  And where do pigs come from? The farm! And where are they bled out and butchered? About 20 feet from where we are temporarily residing! Yaaaay!

To begin with, our landlords, Don and Renee are extremely kind and generous people.  I like them. I think they like us, but they are of course wary of vegetarians since they raise and slaughter their own animals.  I made them feel a little easier after telling them I used to be a cook and learned to do some butchery myself.  Then Don asked me if I could help him bring the pig down to the slaughter area so he could shoot it in the head.

My first thought was something along the lines of that elevator scene in The Shining. I wanted nothing to do with the whole idea.  Then I wondered how I got to be so pretentious.  It was an inner dialogue thing going on.

A part of the reason Amber and I became vegetarians in the first place was because of the way meat is mass manufactured which leads to prolific animal abuse.  These good people treat their animals very well.  They are happy animals, cruelty free. So in the spirit of learning new things I helped Don bring the pig down, but nothing after that.  Amber and I would take Brutus on a park adventure so he didn't have to hear gunshots and smell buckets of blood all day.  I can only imagine what our landlords think of the way we treat our rabbit like a child.

Long story short, moving the pig messed with me a little bit.  It screamed! We put it in a mobile cage and it pressed its face against the bars and screamed bloody murder. If I was the type of person to tell myself "This is the way it is. Humans eat pigs, and they scream. Get used to it." Well, then I would desensitize myself to it, wouldn't I? Several years ago I was often wrist deep in animal blood just to make a meal and it wouldn't phase me.  Now I don't eat meat, and I know there's another way to live. And this screaming pig, banging himself against the mobile fence as we walked it down to the gallows was a little disturbing to me.

I guess I'll leave it at that. I'm not a preachy vegetarian, just a guy with an occasional story to tell.

To update on a happy note. Even though Brutus and all of us are adjusting to the heat, it does get cool in the evening.  This means every sunset we let him out to run around and he has a whole field to frolic and play in, only under our supervision though, obviously.  There are other wild bunnies in the field too, but they haven't socialized yet. Brutus enjoys his free time thoroughly, and he's shedding more and more every day.  He may acclimate to the mountains sooner than we do.

Bonus song: Gorillaz - Mountain Called Monkey

"Polish comes from the cities, wisdom from the desert."

Soundtrack:

Jose Feliciano cover of California Dreamin'

The California border has a checkpoint where they check what animals and plants (or flora and fauna if you're cool) you may be bringing in.  California is an odd bird for many reasons, and this is just one of them. Lucky for us, we picked one of the lanes where no one was there to check us. If there was, they would have looked into our car and seen a white rabbit with red eyes doing one of his classic 'I didn't do it!' stares he is so well known for.  Then where would we be?

Probably still fine, but it's a funny image I like to think about.

Immediately, blindingly so, after the Arizona desert is green! California grows a lot of produce, and there were growing fields as well as palm trees right away. I don't know why palm trees suddenly begin in California, probably some artificial reason I don't want to think about (a la the movie Chinatown), but they're everywhere.

As you drive through the fields of whatever crops they grow, blissful things like strawberries, there are suddenly no longer the same green bugs squishing into your windshield at high speeds.  Like many things on the trip, this bug smashing is something I became so used to that I noticed immediately when it stopped.  I felt I was in a magical place.  Then I knew I was in a magical place, because there were these little yellow butterflies everywhere around me.  In the fields, around the road... and then squishing into my windshield.  Not green bugs, but little yellow butterflies now.

I wondered to myself, is this a good sign? Is this a bad sign? I am squishing beautiful butterflies now - are they some welcoming gift to me or am I angering the blissful yellow god of sunshine by running into his yellow minions? After enough dead butterflies are on your windshield you begin wondering why they can't figure out the trend going on and avoid the road.

We stopped at a gas station. There was a lot of young people sitting around doing drugs, which really bothered me, because I'm getting old I guess.  Then there was this old homeless guy with a friendly white beard collecting cans in a grocery cart. I think it was the beard that did it but I approached him and gave him a little money. I never know the rules on that sort of thing, but I needed to do something nice for someone because I was so tired from travelling, if that makes any sense at all. When I shook his hand, he smiled at me and looked me in the eye and said, "You are welcome!"

And I was! I felt good after that. He was a nice guy, I think. I hope he did something good with it.

Then Amber and I went through a vast hilly backroad that was leading to the deserts of California. There was a yellow traffic sign before that said "dips ahead". We speculated how bad the dips, whatever those were, had to be for there to be a sign.  Very bad, apparently. Dips are just up and down hills, as we learned.

This is also a foreshadowing to the kind of winding bumpy roads that some Californians are used to. On the mountains, for example, people drive roads I would have once considered very unsafe. They think they are perfectly acceptable, and my mountain landlords refer to any paved road as highways. I think they are savages, and I refer to them as Wildlings when I speak of these people to Amber. Although I suspect that one day their ways may become my ways.

By this time Brutus had become good at maneuvering different roads in his seat so he didn't get sick. What I mean is that on the first day, he would have just looked scared at less than smooth roadways. Now, when things got choppy, he turned himself around so he was facing the seat for better traction, and he would bob and weave with the motion of the car. He developed this technique on his own.  I imagine him thinking, "I am a leaf on the wind. I am a leaf on the wind," to himself as we drove through the up and down wasteland.

Then we straightened out on the road, and as we began to have a moment to look around I felt very peaceful.  This was the California desert. I pulled over with Amber and the hot burning wind and white sand just felt so purifying to me. I took a few pictures, and we moved on. Even stranger still, the "desert" as we thought we had been in became moreso. It was all sand dunes and this one road we were on.

Amber and I both stopped again.  I looked at her and said, "Where are we?" She shrugged. We both were thinking it was like Saudi Arabia only in California. I'm looking at a map now, and it had to be the Glamis Dunes on Rte 78. I need to go back there, just to prove that it was real. It's amazing.

It was nighttime when we finally started going up the mountain to our place. Brutus starting really doing his maneuvers, because the roads kept moving back and forth, winding up. Then we went through the rocky pathways and our new landlords showed us where we would sleep.  We slept for about a day, and Brutus laid down in the same spot for at least two day.

I am not cut out to be a nomad, but it was a wonderful journey.  We will see if Amber and I are cut out to live like these Wildlings up here.

Thin Red Rock Line

Sountrack
Remix of  Red Hot Chili Peppers - Road Trippin'

Every state is different in the Southwest. From Texas to California, as soon as you cross the border it is like entering a different way of looking at life. I did not expect this, because the Midwest is a series of crop farms, flatlands, sometimes a deciduous forest.

After leaving Dallas I really enjoyed the fields with large tufts of green grass, and cows grazing on them in clustered formations.  When we entered New Mexico there was a gradual buildup to the red rocked hills, slowly with hills and equally spaced apart bushes then giving way to the sparse tree here and again. The occasional towns we came across had a little more creative flair, mostly being artistic interpretations of Southwestern Chicano culture or something regarding the Native Americans way of life.

Once we really started enjoying the New Mexican landscape, the billboards abruptly and startlingly began. Amber and I were on the phone in our separate cars at the time, then we saw about five billboards in a row advertising the same rest stop area which was coming up soon.  The first one was about ice cream, the next was about Native American jewelry, then hand made blankets or ponchos, etc.

It's worth mentioning that Amber and I are both susceptible to marketing, but we have different preferences. I did not care about these New Mexican kitsch things at all, and once they got to the 20th or 30th (not exaggerating) billboard in a row, I was actually a little offended.  Amber on the other hand, said over the phone, "I think we need to stop at this place!"

I said, "No, I won't be tricked into buying crap just because they use excessive advertising."

We were both exhausted. Our defenses were low.

"It's starting to work on me!" she told me. "I need to buy gifts and postcards for people. Let's just pull over."

I knew they completely got her when she said, "That billboard says they have 'cool things,' I need to know what the cool things are."

About twenty minutes later, Brutus and I were laying in the one spot of grass we could find in the large parking lot. He sat under the one tree he could find, and I near him, staring at a clear blue sky past the branches while eating a $3.50 grilled cheese (because a lot of restaurants don't know what to charge me when I ask for items without meat).

At some point I called Amber again to see how things were going in the store, and she was very excited about the stuffed bear they had, and the stuffed buffalo, and the many sarapes they had. We agreed she could take as much time as she wanted and I stared again at the sky through my sunglasses, cars driving past my little grass island wondering where the strange bearded man and his rabbit came from.  I looked over at Brutus who was glued to the tree and eating some kind of prolific plant I never saw before.  I hoped he wasn't poisoning himself, but I didn't want to stop him from the little enjoyment he had. Instead, I felt the logical thing to do was eat some of the plant as well; better we both die together.  This is what made sense to me in the heat. I concluded it actually tasted pretty good and reached for some more. Eventually Amber came to collect us and we continued.

Arizona

All of this stuff is just my observation.  From a highway trip, no less. Every state has myriad places to enjoy and different culture. Who am I to judge any experience of an entire state from my brief time there? That being said, when we first entered Arizona I was completely let down. I made a fool of myself later in my immediate judgement, but when we crossed the border from New Mexico to Arizona it wend from red rocked cliffs to flat dead grass and pebbly roads.

Remember Spike, Snoopy's cousin from Peanuts? I know he lived in the California desert, but the cactus landscape looked exactly like the Arizona licence plates, so that's what I expected. This is paper thin logic, I know, but what can I say.

We got to Flagstaff and stayed the night there. At the time it felt like a small town with a mountain looming overhead, which was kind of interesting in a way. I mentioned on facebook that I was a little disappointing with Arizona, and a few friends including the far better traveled than I, Brandis, explained to me about Flagstaff being quite popular for the mountains and the forests.  She also told that there is much more to Arizona (like Sedona) to be seen and enjoyed.

I suspected I was going to learn not to judge so quickly, and I was. The next day's drive was amazing! The area around Flagstaff (on the Western side of it anyway) was very pretty with the mountains and the many evergreen forests. Originally we were going to go the Grand Canyon too, but we decided with a bunny patiently riding shotgun and our time schedule, we should come back when we could actually appreciate it.

The rest of Arizona had winding red stone mountains, very impressive and festive towns, and we saw many cactus covered hills. At one point the view became so amazing that Amber and I both pulled over at the same time, because we both had the idea to take pictures. That was fun.

As we crossed the desert before entering California I thought about how terrible it would be to break down there. It was so hot! There was a beauty to it, but I also felt like many people may have died of thirst crawling through this desert at some point. Occasionally there would be an abandoned building for no reason, or a hollowed out auto body shop just left there with no one caring enough to even bulldoze it to the ground.  Just the shells were left. It was kind of fascinating.

Then we crossed into California, which was actually quite surreal, but I'll post about that next time.  For now, the lesson of the day is don't think you know everything about a place at first glance, you'll just look stupid... except for Arizona, which I will forever refer to as a either the disappointing East Arizona or majestic West Arizona. The other lesson is that I never learn lessons.

Philemon

Soundtrack:

Avicii - Hey Brother

“What’s that?” said Phil.

“That’s my blog.  I let people know what I’m up to, and it’s easier than calling everyone,” I said.

“You’re not going to write about me, are you?”

“Probably.  I’m visiting you on my travels, so I’ll write about it,” I said.

“The only way I’ll agree to that is if you make it exciting.  You’ve got to have ninjas and robots.  Put some ODST’s in there too.”

“What’s an ODST?  I don’t know what that is.”

Phil explained, “An ODST, or Orbital Drop Shock Trooper, is an armored soldier dropped in from the sky. Those things are badass. They don’t have them yet in the military; that’s why I didn’t sign up for another tour of duty.”

I paused and stared at him a moment, just to let it sink in.  “Okay, Phil.  I can do that for you.”

Phil and I have known each other since shortly after I was born.  Our mothers put us together, in a very Catholic environment.  We both laugh about our upbringing still to this day.  Phil and my relationship has reinvented itself so many times I’ve lost count.  We’ve been best friends, estranged rivals, acquaintances - we’ve drifted apart and come back so many times.

At this stage it feels like we are old men, and our dreams did not pan out as we thought they would, but we’ve both come to happy terms with that.  We are just content to know each other. Before anyone has a chance to respond to that, saying we are both still young or we don’t know what old is, let me frame that properly for you.  When we were five we both wanted to be superheroes, and thought it was a very plausible thing to accomplish.  We’ve grown and changed our scope since then.

Phil became a soldier in the U.S. Army and served in Afghanistan.  I’ve been working for a spiritual non-profit for 4 years and am working to become a monk.  Some might say we haven’t really grown up that much.  Only he now lives near Dallas, TX and I am moving near San Diego, CA.  The similarities are there as well as the dichotomies.

Which brings us back to Phil requesting robots and ninjas in his story’s retelling.  Who talks like that? Me. I do. I’m the only one I know though, and maybe the people I’ve influenced enough.  It’s like he’s a figment of my imagination. Gasp! Or I’m his!

Here’s what it is.  Sometimes you have friends that really impact you.  They rub off on you so much, and you onto them, that it never goes away.  Even when you keep changing afterward your trajectory is forever affected by that influence.  I have known a lot of people like that, and I still do.  I am grateful for all of them, even the ones where the relationship didn’t end how I wanted it to.

Quick story on driving into Texas.  I called Phil after entering and finding out it would be 300 miles still until I got to his doorway.  He was surprised.  He asked me what highway I was on.  I told him I forgot at the moment as I’d been driving all day and just doing what my GPS told me at that point.  I did offer that as soon as I crossed the state line the highway doubled in size, yet there were vast malls with expensive storefronts and many steakhouses on all sides covering the horizon.  Every highway overpass had the Lone Star seal or the outline of Texas etched into it many times as a gaudy display, reminding visitors where they were and the wealth that it involved.

Phil listened to my description and said, “You just described every single highway entrance into Texas.”

Then an army of robots vs an army of ninjas made war upon the highway.  I would have swerved to avoid them, but luckily, some ODST’s landed and held them back until I could safely make it by.

Brutus and the (Not Really) Giving Tree

The Chronicles of Brutus also continue.  He is getting more adept at road life.  He is almost a full-blooded gypsy by now, in fact.

We did have one hiccup at a gas station on our way out of Texas though.  We let him play in a grassy area, as we do at these rare moments of rest, and he fell in love with a tree.

It was technically in some person’s yard, next to the gas station, so it really wasn’t meant to be no matter how you look at it.  But he hopped straight to the tree and smelled it, he stood there and peed on it a few times, and just held his ground.  Never moving from it’s side, whispering sweet nothings to it while smelling the breeze of this new area.  By the way, everytime we get to a new area or state and let him out, he spends a good five minutes just sticking his nose in the air with his eyes closed, and he smells everything he can as thoroughly as he can.

This time he did all this, glued securely to his tree.  Finally we pried him away.  But just so you don't feel to bad for him, he fell in love with a new tree in New Mexico, but that’s for next time.