Playing Fair and Being Kind

Return to Maine

I’ve been back in Maine nearly one week. If you lived here you’d know what I am feeling. I am on the verge of tears from gratitude. I love The Castle and the earth upon which it rests. The way the light shines through in the early hours to illuminate the greenery outside is beyond beautiful; one can hear “Ode to Joy” if I slow down the spectrum to audio frequencies. My body sings with Beethoven as my eyes feast on the tall trees filtering the chorus, brightness painting the small clearing which is the back yard here. My piece of heaven.

What a grand trip I took from here starting in late January. I crawled into Beastie III on the 26^th of January. I dodged the storms that were pushing toward the east coast. I ran across New England straight for the Tappan Zee Bridge and on into New Jersey. My intention to get passed that low country that makes Connecticut a funnel for snow storms all the way to the Cape. I ran as fast and as long as I could to get into Pennsylvania and up into the Poconos before the end of the first day. I rushed to reach Paul and Jane Wilcox’s digs in Elizabethtown. The strategy worked. The storms dumped and dumped some more on the coast but up in this section of the Appalachians I was driving dry roads. I stayed on Interstate 81 for the remainder of my north-south transit until I reached the Interstate 64 connection. Along the way I stopped in to visit Cate Nelson and her two beautiful boys. Their home is filled with love and caring. Cate is raising her two sons alone. Theirs is an open and trusting existence. To be with them is dynamic and a learning experience about living with others. I have high hopes for them.

After checking the weather reports for Virginia I chose to drive I 64 east through Richmond to the Tidewater area. I called ahead to Cherry Point MCAS in North Carolina for a room where I holed up in the warm and dry weather for a few days. It felt good to drop a few layers of clothing and to open the windows of the car for a change. I was able to unpack the car and rearrange the contents make more room for sleeping. I’ve learned to make room for my knees and lower back if I want to really rest when I crawl into the back of the vehicle. With the adjustment to the contents I’m certain to sleep in longer spurts.

I visited Denny Breese for an afternoon and lunch at our favorite Asian restaurant, Tsunami Buffet in Morehead City. Denny actually lives in Beaufort. (In North Carolina “Beaufort” is pronounced “BO-fort”. In South Carolina “Beaufort” is pronounce “Bee-YOUfort”.) Spending time with my old pal Denny is always educational. It’s fun to be around him and I always come away enriched.

After a few days of warming up and repacking Beastie III I headed due west in order to visit Granddaughter Hannah. She’s a freshman at Wake Forest. Such love we have; I am a lucky Grandpa! The highway leaves the coastal low-country and begins a climb into the hills that form the land that once produced all of the tobacco smoked in the United States of America. Durham is where the eastern counties gained fortune from tobacco production and Winston-Salem for the western counties. These days legumes and grains have replaced tobacco. Not to be seen or observed, marijuana grows in far greater amounts but I didn’t see it first hand. Humans are skilled at adjustment.

I rolled along further west into the Smoky Mountains to visit with Nicole and Tim Schmittendorf. I caught Nicole during a busy time so we didn’t get much chance to chat. I had the use of the house and I also got to meet and spend time with Olaf, the big black lab/rottie mix pet dog. He and I formed a relationship of “whoever gets on the couch first owns it”. Tim was around part of the time so he and I also learned more from each other. Tim is a really neat guy, an iron worker who carries himself with pride and confidence. Tim’s path upward in his work is a success story. No pun intended.

I traveled on to Woodstock, Georgia and met up with one of my dearest friends in the whole, wide world. Rae Adams is too cool to dance. I’ll leave it at that. Rae is the type of person who goes beyond deep and thoughtful. People like her are rare and mostly recognizable to those of us who share the same traits. Rae, if you are reading this, te amo para siempre.

I then popped on over to Charleston, South Carolina and stayed a few days with Grace Lorraine. We made a day trip to Beaufort (Bee-YOU-fort remember) to tread the same ground as Harriet Tubman and Robert Smalls. Read about them both please. Theirs is a colorful and adventure filled life. They both defied the order of the day and gained freedoms for many people who were enslaved. I had a delightful time with Grace. She is a Vegan Warrior of the first degree. In many ways Grace is educating the general population to the inherent dangers of eating animals. Beyond the health issues for humans consuming animals and their products is the cruelty. Workers in the animal agriculture business suffer PTSD issues from all the terror and suffering they witness and visit on creatures. Keep on, Grace!

Being so far south now I was almost into Florida. There is no direct route from Charleston going west so I felt a need to go to Jacksonville. The google maps informed me that it was an easy three and a half hour drive. Savannah is along the track and I thought I might spend a few hours there. As it turned out I kept on motoring until I reached Florida. The days were chilly even though the sun was bright. January/February carries a lot of weight cold-wise even as far south as this. I spent a night at Mayport Navy Base on the mouth of the St. John’s River. I’d never been there. Not much to see and the base is difficult to get around on. Make a note of that. The next day I started out early for Louisiana. The drive takes up most of a day. Google maps puts the trip at seven and a half hours. I got on Interstate 10 right there in Jacksonville and, if I wanted to, I could have driven one road all the way to LA on the west coast. Well I didn’t want to and I didn’t. I 10 has a great deal of pretty scenery. One passes through all of the panhandle of Florida, a tiny bit of Alabama, a little bit of Mississippi, and then where Louisiana hogs most of the coast for herself into New Orleans. It’s quite a ride. I passed through pine forests and skirted swamps most of the way. Next time I drive this part of the country I want to visit the beaches along the coast and explore some of the campgrounds I’ve heard so much about.

I stayed at Pat Searcy’s house in New Orleans. I was too late for Mardi Gras. That was o.k. with me though. I enjoy Pat’s company. She is generous and a fine conversationalist and her house is large and comfortable. I enjoy sitting in her yard. Although the houses are cheek to jowl the fences and shrubbery afford all the privacy one needs. Thanks, Pat. You are a lovely host. I know she won’t read this.

Next I go beyond the Mississippi River and now it is officially a different world. Before you know it you’re in Texas. Houston, Texas and then Katy, Texas. I visit with Kara and Jim Long. I always enjoy this stop along the road; not so much the place as the wonderful presence of this lovely family. Great parents and equally great children! Thanks, Kara! We ate out at one of my favorite places. They serve Indian dishes and it is easy to order vegan meals there. The next morning Kara and I discover a terrific bakery that makes their own bagels. Woo-hoo!!!

My next location of rest at this point in the journey is never quite clear for me. Texas goes off in all directions from here. If it wasn’t for my cousin Evelyn I wouldn’t spend any time in East Texas. But Evelyn is not doing well at all. She has been placed in a full time nursing home. I doubt I’ll ever see her again. I’ll leave it at that. In this case I was deeply saddened with my visit with Evelyn. We had a wonderful brief moment of clarity and then it was gone, poof. She recognized me and we had that eye contact that says volumes. I love my cousin Evelyn. I decided not to spend the night with her husband. When I am uncomfortable with people my first or second move is to run. I just wanted to leave and get out of town so I escaped for a long overnight drive up to the panhandle and into New Mexico. I wanted to get to Rick Mobbs’ house in Santa Fe quickly.

I think I drove eighteen hours on this leg. Texas is so large that it truly belongs to the family of planets. It needs to be the fourth rock from the sun. Just to cross southeast to northwest is like a circumnavigation. I’m extra impressed because I did it all after dark. My recent trips across this huge state have familiarized me with the lay of the land, as they say. I know the towers and the other structures by their blinking aerial beacons in the dark. You wouldn’t believe the numbers of wind generators there are! I left Lufkin in the evening and arrived in Santa Fe, New Mexico during the day. I arrived on my birthday, the nineteenth of February. I was saddle sore and exhausted. Plus I was now at an elevation of over seven thousand feet. Adjusting to the new conditions that seven thousand feet elevation presents is a labor. It took me about four weeks to adjust to where I could comfortably move around without huffing and puffing. During my stay on those mountains, the Rocky Mountains actually, I slowly acclimated (It took me the better part of five weeks to get comfortable!) and my breathing became less problematic. My legs grew stronger as well. I was moving about mindfully using my body in such a way that I benefited from my surroundings. I’ll talk about this more soon. I cannot say all that transpired during my stay in New Mexico. I was there from February 19^th until June 1^st. That’s three and a half months. Normally I am gone from Maine for just three months altogether. A lot happened during this visit and, I repeat, cannot relate all that went on. I had a marvelous adventure thanks to Rick and Naomi.

To Be Continued

Here are a couple of pieces I wrote a few days ago. One was inspired by my experiences with my digestive tract during my travels and the other came to me while I was investigating a CD that I found lying around my desk yesterday. The CD is a transcript of a self hypnosis guided meditation. I found it curious and then I became passive-aggressive and wrote as fast as I could to put down what it was I was listening to. I made a first person account of what I heard. I like both of the stories. Some may not like them at all. No doubt. There is a crude element to them that is not always looked at kindly. I hope someone reads them and comments.

 

IT’S ALL RELATIVE, CLARICE

Clarice sat in her car waiting for the bloated, urgent feeling to subside. Or rather she sat and hoped it would. She had been driving for hours, nibbling on nuts and chips and sipping water from a travel cup. The nuts and chips and water had no place but further to go into her digestive tract on top of the sandwich Clarice had eaten at six thirty that morning. It was a bagel with black olive cream cheese and lox. It was delicious.

As she sat in her car waiting for the discomfort to subside she sipped a little bit more water and then thought how she was probably adding to the problem because she knew that when she stood up many things would begin to happen. The most fearsome thing to begin to happen would be Clarice’s GI tract would begin to respond and get active. Clarice knew from experience that after a long period of sitting any movement after standing would send signals throughout her body and that her bladder and bowels would be anxious to rid themselves of their contents. She had waited too long to make a stop to visit a rest room. Now she was in a jam. Clarice felt the gut rumbling and roiling while her bladder was feeling the pressure from the inside load of churning and processing.

One other thought crossed Clarice’s mind. She recalled how her mother would always ask her if she was wearing clean underwear. That was in case she got into an accident of course. Heaven forbid anyone see Clarice in messy or torn underwear. Clean underwear was the way of civilized people who walked the face of the earth. In case of an accident of course.

The Connecticut Transit Company bus traveling the M route from West Haven to North Haven through New Haven was on time. Sunday evening, almost six o’clock and most of the Yale students were home. Hardly a soul was out on this warm evening in early June.

Clarice had stopped her car in the spot reserved for the M route bus. She didn’t know this. The bus stop sign was obscured by the early summer leaves of the oak tree growing in the vicinity. Clarice had chosen the parking spot because of the tree and the quiet of the street. She needed to relax and let things rumble themselves to sleep before she dared get out of the car and seek a rest room in one of the small cafes that were still open along Orange Street.

The M route bus was moving quickly along Orange Street. The driver was trying to pace the speed of advance in order to maintain a route schedule. The driver’s options were few because a schedule was published and needed to be accurate enough to use by the general population as well as the Yale students. The driver did notice the the pace needed to be quickened because traffic lights were working against the bus. A little more speed was required to get back on schedule.

Clarice was feeling a bit more comfortable and decided to exit the vehicle and make a smooth but rapid transit from the parking spot on Orange Street to the coffee shop that was adjacent to the P&M Orange Street Market. The thought of the clean underwear was on her mind. She was not presently concerned about the bloated feeling and the urgency of needing a toilet but that all changed in a heart beat. I’d like to report that the bus only took the door of the vehicle and missed Clarice altogether. It would be nice to announce that Clarice made it from the vehicle to the coffee shop in one piece. Actually Clarice made it to the coffee shop in grand fashion. Her concerns about the clean underwear, her bloated bladder and her clogged GI tract all arrived at the coffee shop together nearly in alphabetical order. Not exactly how the New Haven police reported it. Clarice was DOA. Her underwear was a mess.

Optional ending

Clarice was feeling a bit more comfortable and decided to exit the vehicle and make a smooth but rapid transit from the parking spot on Orange Street to the coffee shop that was adjacent to the P&M Orange Street Market. The thought of the clean underwear was on her mind. She was not presently concerned about the bloated feeling and the urgency of needing a toilet but that all changed in a heart beat. I’d like to report that the bus only took the door of the vehicle and missed Clarice altogether. It would be nice to announce that Clarice made it from the vehicle to the coffee shop in one piece. What did happen was a bit more involved. The bus rammed into the back of Clarice’s vehicle and pushed it up the block like a cue ball. The bus came to a stop alongside Clarice. Clarice was stunned but unharmed. That is except for the messy underwear she now possessed. She wasn’t even aware of her condition until she arrived at police headquarters and then it was all out in the open anyway. The worst that could happen, according to Clarice’s mother , had happened. There was nothing Clarice could do about it. Still she got a ticket for parking at a bus stop.

G. M. Goodwin

6-6-2016

Here is the 2nd story

MY TRIP INTO SELF TRANCE

I am going to go into a trance for the first time. I am going to do this with no previous experience. I hope that this is not a one way trip. I am lying down with my feet separated and my arms are at my side. I am focusing on one spot on the ceiling.

I notice the light, my eyes are focused, everything around me fades. I am drawn into that one spot on the ceiling. The music is fading and growing as I focus. My eyes are focused deeper into one spot. My eyes are heavy and so heavy that I cannot keep them open. I resist, I notice the spot texture and color shift. My eyes close and the lids touch down gently. My cheeks relax as does the chin and the brow. My right arm is too heavy to lift. It sinks into the carpet under me. My tensions leave my right arm.

My left arm is very heavy now. It sinks and gets heavier I cannot lift it. Both arms are so heavy, too loose, limp, and tired. I count to three, one, two, three and I open my eyes to focus on that spot again. My eyes are getting heavier again, they melt into my face and I can see inward all the way to my toes.

My arms are still too heavy to lift. Too, too heavy to lift. No way can I lift them. I relax to accept the heaviness of my arms and now my legs feel heavy. The left leg is too heavy to lift, I cannot move it. The right leg sinks into the carpet and then I cannot move it. The muscles are too weak to move. My eyelids are still too heavy, my cheeks, my jaw are totally relaxed.

I test the eyelids to see if I can move them. I cannot.

One, two, three; I open the eyes easily. Test complete. Now the relaxing comes back to create hypnosis and I have heavy eyelids again, my inner voice floats in and out of my awareness. I relax more and more. I float deeper into the carpet and one, two, three I open my eyes to see that the spot and I are at peace with each other. I hear my inner voice take me back into the carpet. I relax again; one, two, three.

I see a doorway ahead of me and I approach it. I go up to it. I will step through; one, two, three…I step through the doorway. My mind drifts through with me. I choose to heal a part of me now. I choose to grow another head. This is no laughing matter. I should not have chosen that. I feel another head growing off my left shoulder. Too late. I cannot feel my head but I can feel the new head. Too late. I cannot come out of this state of trance. Too late, I am gone but I have a new head. Two of them in fact. I am relaxed and lying on the carpet with heavy arms and heavy legs with two heads. Neither head wants to do anything. All four eyes are heavy and closed and I don’t care. Tell my friends I didn’t mean to do this.

G. M. Goodwin

6-11-2016