Catching Up

Well hello.

A friend of mine invited me to blog once again. I am still unable to upload photos on this particular public computer, but perhaps one of these days I will luck out and have access to computer #2. Anyway, I find the idea of blogging again amenable, and since I still have access to the old blog page, here goes!

-----

My life has for some time been a pendulum swinging between the longing for freedom, travel, experience, authentic contribution, etc., and a desperate need for security, self-care, stability, money. As an increasingly free-spirit, I have prioritized the former in recent years. More than once, I have arrived at the point of completely empty bank accounts, pockets and energy reserves.

Three years ago, after a brief period of homelessness and van-living, I made a thousand-mile return to New Mexico on the grace of discounted tires. I had been given indication I would be rehired at the store, by way of a phone call made to my former boss from a truckstop along the way! I arrived with less than five dollars and less than a gallon in the tank. I realized through the experience that I was not cut out for that level of stress in how I organized my life, especially if I didn't have a clear sense of what purpose it was serving. A vague sense of being true to an imagined new paradigm was not enough to outweigh hunger, cold, and an unwelcome dependency on external factors.

Then two years ago, after working steadily for another year, I took a three-month leave of absence to travel to Nicaragua. I visited seven farms and worked on four, but I also partied some. I met some great people, had some adventures, and got shredded by insect bites. Two months were great, but the third was filled with illness, dwindling cash, and stress. I made a couple of foolish decisions, and a few good ones too, much of the time on the fly. I learned a lot.

I arrived back to New Mexico, once again with less than five dollars in reserves. But this time, I had a job waiting for me. This provided tremendous security while I'd pushed the envelope of how much adventure I could manage. I began to wonder if it might be possible to work part of the year and live cheaply the rest of the year. It seemed a doable and compelling vision, to get beyond wage slavery and vapid societal norms. I had tasted a profound sense of personal sovereignty that was becoming so hard to find in the states. And I had done so without sacificing my essential security.

-----

Another few months of work was more than my spirit could sustain. I tried to find some meaning in it by self-medicating. But it only exacerbated my fatigue and misfittedness. My favorite coworkers began to leave, injuries were increasing, and it was time to leave. Ganja would again prove to subvert any focus on generating a clear plan as to what was next. I'd booked a return to Nicaragua, but felt no inspiration for going. I changed plans and traveled to California, feeling directionless, until I headed up to stay with my folks.

My mom, unbeknownst to me, had been seriously ill. I was glad to take over a month to spend some overdue quality time with her and the family. Mom was on the mend, and it was a great visit. Yet, grey and shrunken, I looked as old and burned out as I felt. I managed to stay away from the ganja and began to focus. After 25 years in New Mexico, I was stale and stuck. Dissipations I had used to refresh my attitude had now become their own negative rut. Indeed, my dissipated life had become injurious to myself and others, including people I cared about. It was by waking up to this pain that I realized I needed to do something different.

As with most things, it was not clear what I needed to do. There was no perfect or easy road forward. I had an offer of a couple months stay in New Mexico, perfect for clearing out stuff and saying goodbye. I had already been liberated from friends, job, car and computer. Uprooting would not be a problem. I wanted to be around some model of a value-centered life. So I volunteered on a midwestern farm belonging to a couple of acquaintances, who were also very involved with social activism. I predicted it would be difficult physically and emotionally, and it surpassed my expectations in both regards.

After all my ups and downs, it seemed fair that I would have to earn my stripes as a respectable commnity member. I was at least being given a chance, for which I felt very grateful.

-----

Eleven months of clean and celibate living has provided for much growth.

Learning to conform to small-town, Christian community standards took some doing. Yet, it was the sheer magnitude of the moment-to-moment pain and exhaustion that was wholly consuming. I was seriously out of shape. Self-esteem suffered, injuries happened, and I did my best to stay positive. Prayer helped-- the desperate kind that somehow finds its mark. I even got to know someone named Jesus again. Slowly, my resilience grew from being able to get through a minute or two without suffering, to getting through an hour or two, to the enjoyment of getting through an entire day. Over the seven months, there may have even been a week or two in which all of the days were "good" ones.

My hosts were very patient and generous. I began to make a couple good friends in the community, and playing a little music. I began enjoying the ten-mile bike ride to-and-from town. I enjoyed how I was actualizing a good life without a car. I was living on an organic farm, a lifestyle with integrity. I was getting bigger, weighing up to 170. I was regaining some humility. Perhaps best of all, somehow I was not harming anyone. As the weeks passed, I noticed in these developments a new trend in my life.

I had to admit to myself that getting high the previous couple years had grown to a semi-regular pursuit. While it had led to some amazing, or at least pleasurable, experiences, I'd become aware of an inner sense that I was somehow "losing ground." It had left me increasingly less fit, less patient and loving, more erratic, more confused, and overall less resilient. This was of course hard to admit, as the experience of being high itself had the opposite effect, for as long as it lasted-- more energy, openness, clarity, etc. This in short is the conundrum of dependency. The beauty of the ganja experience does not exempt it from these effects. In fact, for some of us at least, it magnifies one's emotional dependency and psychological rationalization.

Breaking such a pattern was not easy. I was giving practice to the idea of deferred gratification. The new trend that was slowly dawning on me was that I was now gaining ground. As difficult as it was, I was building some internal resilience: some synaptic fitness, some new hormonal flow, a deeper breath. Even as new challenges arose-- differences in communication styles, digestive illness-- I was heading in a positive direction.

-----

What got me through the bulk of the summer was commitment. I knew it was a gift of an opportunity I had been given by my hosts. So I was "all in" to make this experience work, no matter what it would take.

My work was not generally stellar on the farm, as sluggishness continued to return. I didn't learn near as much as I could have, as it was all I could do most days to get some weeding or mulching done. Because I could beg off work in the evening after a long day, I often missed out on plantings, best done during those hours, etc. But I was honest and respectful. I gave them my best, both spiritually and physically. It wasn't pretty, but I got through. And it began building on itself.

The landscaping work went even better. For whatever reason, the work flow there, while faster and more vigorous, worked out well. I am actually psyched to do it again this year. It is my plan to landscape three or four months, which comprises the bulk of the company's work season, as soon as the weather breaks here. It is my hope that this will afford me enough cash for the rest of the year's needs.

This assumes that at least part of the rest of the year I will be doing some sort of service work in exchange for room and board, and possibly a small stipend. I like this plan a lot, because it seems very sustainable over the long term. And it fulfills a lot of needs.

This more-or-less catches us up, at least to this past fall's adventures which I hope to cover some time soon. I hope to give some voice to my immersion in social justice activism. It has provided immense grist for the mill of my many questions. What is worth doing in this life? What is the nature of reality? Does spirituality offer answers? What's the use of all this conspiracy stuff I've been into? What's the plan for balancing various needs?

Until then, thanks for the space to write!