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| San Diego 2008-10-29 |
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Monday, October 20, 2008
let me try to get my
What is going on? I'm in the SDSU computer lab--not as relaxed because it's near peak time. Lots of people want computers. I'm here to finish applying for the SDSU Temp Jobs. Well the guy next to me is playing with his cell phone and watching sports. I'm on a mac. Keyboard set to DVORAK.
I did the full kata + yoga + ballet this am. Will be doing that more, less swimming, weights. Tomorrow AM: 7 laws yoga (Chopra et al.). The lower back, neck has been an issue. All the yoga, dance really helps. And posture throughout day, while walking.
Creative outlet has been resume work. Will finish that today. Yesterday eve, walked by my friend's house--never sure exactly why or for what, no plans. We got to thinking of games we could play. She suggested co-drawing. One draws a line (with non-dominant hand), the other continues. After several drawings (she decided when a drawing was done), she introduced color. She teaches ceramics at a private school. . .
Ah--grandma has been doing well fattening me up. . . but I think I can meet the challenge now of not eating many of the cookies and desserts she makes available. I used to do very well. But got out of practice over the summer.
I talked to her about it and she kept the cookie can empty for a while. But now she's back at it. A compulsive feeder. Partly responsible for her dead husband's prominent belly. Cooks from the box or the can.
Going back over the past to do resume work and contact old employers is engaging.
Meanwhile I'm preparing to apply for the TWIC and MMD so I may be able to go to the Unlicensed Mariner Program and SIU's Paul Hall School. The app arrived Saturday.
I do need to think that through more carefully. So I'll be working on the essay part of the application as soon as I get my temp app in. My initial attempt at it is below.
BUT HOLD ON! What is going on here. I've been quiet partly because. . . partly because the HR people may google me. . . partly because I've been working on the resume. Partly because I've been enjoying being quiet. I was feeling manic the other evening--but I know that will pass. Is there any reason to write about that--to tweet it?
There was a collection of articles in the library about Greg Mortenson's work in Pakistan building rural schools. Some acclaimed greatness, significant public service, to contemplate.
What about writing here. . .
The mania came perhaps from believing I had an engaging future of things to do, to work for. That I was in the flow. Talking with my dad about the sea school possibility was good.
Tangerines, Jujube, Guava, Tangerines ate those on the way here. Grandma was laid-out dead-like on the couch. My early rising, good for me, and a bit of a new thing, perhaps disruptive, but need not be. Getting the fallen guavas the owner came out to tell me I could pick from the tree (had enough from the ground) and offered some persimmons. I told her about SD Food Not Lawns.
Proust v. Mortenson. What has education given me? He's a tool of the flow--but challenged to go slow, to care for his self, body. His wife, a psych: he's an introvert, needs time unplugged. Joined the army in '75 as a medic, when it was unpopular. One of those cross-cultural people, as noted by the author of "Left my heart in Accra"(? - worldchanging poster).
I guess that's it? The unreadable brain-dump is over?
Walking back, mind running, quickly eating tangerines. . . stop to remember "peace is every step," slow down, pay attention to breathing, focus on the footfall.
--
"Why I want to work in the Maritime Industry" (initial draft initiation)
Blog post:
Today I got the application for the Unlicensed Apprentice Program at the Paul Hall Center of the Seafarers International Union (seafarers.org).
One of the requirements is this essay. There are many other requirements having to do with physicals and background checks. Before I begin working on getting my MMD, TWIC, physicals (-$400+), it would be good to see if I can write this essay and to think things through more.
I may be as much as 20 years older than some of the people in this program. There are other options for college grads, but here, once in, your finances are covered.
Why this rather than 50 million other things I could do? I really don't know (a moment of terror, a glimpse of the void). Here are a few ideas.
I seem to appreciate the structure. I should be able to, eventually, work my way through the requirements and bureaucracy. Without the requirements and hoops to jump through, how would I structure my life? Mike M. has got a boat and a dream and the will to sail across the pacific hunting and gathering along the way. Others have dreams for what they can make happen or grow on some land. I don't!
Let's take a second to consider the possibility of going with Mike M or Redpillsailor. The only comparable thing I've done is helping Rod on his house at Earthaven. I learned a lot but did not stay. Redpill sounds nice and reasonable. Mike more creative and skilled. . . Why would I trust bureacracy over these very personal opportunities? There is the issue of money equaling freedom. As a licensed mariner I can sail for money part of the time and take the more personal opportunities the rest of the time.
The structure of the bureacracy is like the structure of genres of writing. The sonnet is highly structured. Generally the novel is too. Most people's lives are as well. I'm somewhat outside the lines--not as far as Mike M, perhaps, but I've been making relatively free-form life-poetry for 20+ years now?
If you can jump through the hoops, maritime careers [. . .]
Essay.
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Why I want to work in the Maritime Industry
Blog post:
Today I got the application for the Unlicensed Apprentice Program at the Paul Hall Center of the Seafarers International Union (seafarers.org).
One of the requirements is this essay. There are many other requirements having to do with physicals and background checks. Before I begin working on getting my MMD, TWIC, physicals (-$400+), it would be good to see if I can write this essay and to think things through more.
I may be as much as 20 years older than some of the people in this program. There are other options for college grads, but here, once in, your finances are covered.
Why this rather than 50 million other things I could do? I really don't know (a moment of terror, a glimpse of the void). Here are a few ideas.
I seem to appreciate the structure. I should be able to, eventually, work my way through the requirements and bureaucracy. Without the requirements and hoops to jump through, how would I structure my life? Mike M. has got a boat and a dream and the will to sail across the pacific hunting and gathering along the way. Others have dreams for what they can make happen or grow on some land. I don't!
Let's take a second to consider the possibility of going with Mike M or Redpillsailor. The only comparable thing I've done is helping Rod on his house at Earthaven. I learned a lot but did not stay. Redpill sounds nice and reasonable. Mike more creative and skilled. . . Why would I trust bureacracy over these very personal opportunities? There is the issue of money equaling freedom. As a licensed mariner I can sail for money part of the time and take the more personal opportunities the rest of the time.
The structure of the bureacracy is like the structure of genres of writing. The sonnet is highly structured. Generally the novel is too. Most people's lives are as well. I'm somewhat outside the lines--not as far as Mike M, perhaps, but I've been making relatively free-form life-poetry for 20+ years now?
If you can jump through the hoops, maritime careers
Essay.
Today I got the application for the Unlicensed Apprentice Program at the Paul Hall Center of the Seafarers International Union (seafarers.org).
One of the requirements is this essay. There are many other requirements having to do with physicals and background checks. Before I begin working on getting my MMD, TWIC, physicals (-$400+), it would be good to see if I can write this essay and to think things through more.
I may be as much as 20 years older than some of the people in this program. There are other options for college grads, but here, once in, your finances are covered.
Why this rather than 50 million other things I could do? I really don't know (a moment of terror, a glimpse of the void). Here are a few ideas.
I seem to appreciate the structure. I should be able to, eventually, work my way through the requirements and bureaucracy. Without the requirements and hoops to jump through, how would I structure my life? Mike M. has got a boat and a dream and the will to sail across the pacific hunting and gathering along the way. Others have dreams for what they can make happen or grow on some land. I don't!
Let's take a second to consider the possibility of going with Mike M or Redpillsailor. The only comparable thing I've done is helping Rod on his house at Earthaven. I learned a lot but did not stay. Redpill sounds nice and reasonable. Mike more creative and skilled. . . Why would I trust bureacracy over these very personal opportunities? There is the issue of money equaling freedom. As a licensed mariner I can sail for money part of the time and take the more personal opportunities the rest of the time.
The structure of the bureacracy is like the structure of genres of writing. The sonnet is highly structured. Generally the novel is too. Most people's lives are as well. I'm somewhat outside the lines--not as far as Mike M, perhaps, but I've been making relatively free-form life-poetry for 20+ years now?
If you can jump through the hoops, maritime careers
Essay.
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Compassion? Others' welfare as guide
Taking a break after swimming, weights, to rest.
I ordered two new pairs of shoes from zappos.com last night. One, a $64 pair of Nikes, another, a $39 pair of Reeboks. Sure about the Nikes, not about the 'boks--that they'll fit and I can wear them into the ground without problems. If I go visit Mike M and learn to make shoes, I'll do that instead. It's the balls of my feet--
Laurie led a wonderful bit of Iyengar (sp?) yoga last night (using a web page of standing poses for guidance). Long holding of poses, very nice, plus relaxing music during a long, dreamy dead-person's pose at the end. I've been neglecting dance, yoga, full-body flex and awareness. . . feels so good to not.
She also walked with me to a shoe store. How happy I am. Life is better with a companion? I so don't want to say that (because companionless I and others will read it). We all have to be content with and even value absence of a companion. I've been seeking to work with others. Lucky to already sort of be. Lucky to have zappos too.
Never heard back from Jorge in Ensenada. Was it my Nikes? Never really made it into the in-group of SD anarchists. . .
---
I did go to State and begin to continue work on the temp application, but only barely. Then got to looking for urban planning internships. Then at Americorps. Then at USA Freedom Corps (HooRah!), which helped me find The Center for the Blind, less than a half-mile away probably, to volunteer for. Got to looking at Attra.org (?) farm internships. There are tons. Why am I not there? Tried that already? Is my future in the city? There's also an LA org--see my del.icio links--which has reclaimed dead lots, made great public space, that seeks an Americorps volunteer.
---
I logged into linkedin.
Because, to apply to volunteer with Americorps, one is supposed to list all jobs held for the last 10 years.
Couldn't I just list them at linkedin and have every other job app take them from there? Given that it will take at least an hour of high-focus mindless labor per app to fill in the jobs I've had since '98? Linkedin--can you help?
Well. . . , since '98. That's not so bad actually. Dedicated mindless labor can bring great peace.
Logged into Facebook too, and saw a note posted by George Kao (georgekao.com, www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=1234621): www.facebook.com/note.php?note_id=41595484448 . My distilling:
"Seek the welfare of others. This challenges us differently. This is how we grow." (compassion)
This was good reinforcement for volunteering at The Center for the Blind, and I soon set off that way, obtaining at last an application which does not ask for ten years' history.
---
Found myself noting, not pleasantly, the repetition of the walk to the Kroc Center early this AM (I've been benefiting from having to get there early due to polo teams using whole pool around 830).
Asked Bill (a very young 80+, tennis competitor, cannonball lifter) how he finds joy in doing the same thing so often, in the same place, for so long. "It's not what you're doing, but who you're doing it with."--this was a quick response. He's the happy pool- and weight room companion of Marion--who has a less-energetic husband, with whom and others they meet afterwards, three times a week, at the Starbucks in the nearby Save-a-Lot strip mall.
Later, on the walk back from the Center, I resorted to an audiobook: Thoreau in "Walking" celebrating wandering (and noting he has a companion sometimes, a fellow knight errant, saunterer, seeker of the holy land).
--
Is compassion the whole story?
Laurie told me of _River Horse_ by William Least Heat-Moon. He went across the USA by river as much as possible--most miles in a motorboat, but also in a motor canoe and whitewater raft--and wrote about it.
George posted another quote: Helen Keller: I so much want to do something of great virtue, but must do small things with great virtue. Something like that.
It's desire for great (Csikszentmihalyi) Flow/dao? To not be questioning one's task.
My personal dialectic has swung from "vow of stability" / 'commitment to place' to 'exploration of movement'.
(If one remains in the same place, or even if one moves, one must be engaged in creating, in appreciating, for life to be ever new?)
---
The welfare of others is their freedom to move/create (be at peace) in order to help others move/create (be at peace)?
Impression of greatness of soul: Thich Nhat Hanh gives the impression, Thanissaro Bikkhu does so less (because in his writing he has defined his self in opposition. . .) TNH teaches compassion, all-embrace in his writings and in what little I've seen of his monks. . . With Thanissaro B. (and with me) one expects to be received more critically. On meeting a soul: "How can I help him find the true path?" says Thanissaro B. "How can I help her know peace?" says TNH. "How can I not be hurt and have fun too?" says I.
(note: Thanissaro Bikkhu / accesstoinsight.org --in particular the very simple meditation instructions of Ajaan Shah(?), focus on your belly breathing--have helped me. I would not *not* have him. What use is there in labeling TNH the greater? I've learned from both, but so far have only sought out, witnessed TNH & his students.)
My life manifests that narrow soul--concern with personal peace, adventure, well-being.
---
So there is a group consciousness!! Or at least many individuals wishing to do something great for the welfare of others.
Compassion requires there to be suffering?
When we think of TNH, Mother Teresa. . . Albert Schweitzer(? Doctor in Africa?), and wish to be like them, what is going on? Not Shakespeare, Dickinson, Edison, Einstein. . . Washington, Jefferson.
The former came from or sought suffering; successfully organized, large-scale, to alleviate it, while also (idealized or in fact) behaving in a manner which increased the creative love of those who interacted personally with them.
Gandhi. . . too, perhaps not as picture-perfect interpersonally, but we'd not *not* have him. Even, or very often, the great leaders have, and can pass on unhelpfully to others, self-criticism. Ramakrishna even? but perhaps not Ramana Maharshi (sp?).
Wilber, now that I think of it, very nearly does *not* pass on self-criticism, yet is replete with criticism, a bit of a paradox, due to his always or very often ending on the note: we're always already there (and always seeking greater wholeness).
Chogyam Trungpa's (I know that's spelled wrong and/or the name of her teacher) interview in _The Sun_ has influenced my focus here. She notes: there's always been suffering, the feeling that something's wrong. Here in the west it's become "something is wrong with me."
Stephen Covey shares this message too: if you ever are negatively critical of anyone, others get the idea that you could be critical of them too--and while I don't think he adds this: there's a good chance you get down on yourself as well.
NVC, non-violent communication, probably addresses whatever it is I'm getting at. And other things. Christianity.
---
As Franklin notes in his autobiography (when explaining why he began to eat fish after years of eating no meat [the fish eat each other, and besides, they taste good]), being a reasonable person is a good thing--one can come up with reasons for whatever one might want to do.
What does working for the welfare of others mean for me right now?
Stages: looking around, seeing & experiencing unhappy, unhealthy people, resolving not to be that way one's self = pursuit of personal happiness, regardless of convention (convention did not serve many of those we've left behind). To the point where unconventional health-seeking becomes conventional. . . (in one's subgroup or in the larger culture. Both, in this case).
That's somewhat where I am stuck. Somewhat what Thoreau may represent.
I've gravitated toward people who serve: volunteers, Quakers, carfree cities activists, green builders, ecovillage founders, teachers, gardeners, facilitators, permaculturists, green business students, Buddhists. . .
I've never really done anything for the welfare of others? Always seeking this personal sense of flow? Windsurfing, biking, loving, walking, feeling, reading, swimming, dancing, writing, leading, drawing, rowing, eating, thinking, programming, running, singing, playing, kissing, climbing, stretching, sitting, tasting, relaxing, resting, sleeping, sailing, dreaming, applying, meeting, experiencing something new.
--
Circles of concern, another Covey concept--I'm left with that. In seeking to work, walk, sail, etc, with others, there will at least be one other's welfare to seek.
Compassion, seeking the welfare of others remains a limited guide for me? The personal, self-interested sense of flow (of dao?), more salient?
Peace,
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
check in chick en
Taking a moment in an attempt to be less mindless.
I don't really know what I'm doing, here's what's been going on. Got to reading mariners' blogs yesterday. Kiwi sailor quit one job because they didn't want a blogger on board. Another temporarily unpublished two years of posts.
Later I read a bit about human guinea pigs/clinical trials. Found the _guinea pig zero_ journal and, at bottom of their page, a link to a watchdog site. Found also slate's _Human Guinea Pig_ column by Emily Yoffe (sp?). Learned to spell "guinea", I think, as I've been learning to spell "diesel" and "license"--that right? Yoffe spent a day or two on an oil rig. She also did CR (calorie restriction), and links to crdiary.blogspot.com --perhaps someday I could be an eminently reasonable person like the author of that blog? What would that take? Why am I not already?
Before I did all that, I swam, did weights, kibbutzed (kibitzed--no) a bit with Andrea, Bill, Charles, Estella, etc. Thought a guy was having a stroke. Later he slipped in the shower.
Oh! I washed my clothes in a front-loading washer at a (Laurie-recommended)laundymat! (-$1.75. And it is a decent 'mat). Forgot to stick my hat in though, a main reason for going there: so the agitator in Grandma Ann's water-hogging toploader won't tear it up. They (SDG&E?) offer $175 rebates for buying new efficient washers by the way.
then went out back and found several pounds of expired shelled walnuts, a ripe canteloupe, microwaveable pepperoni pizzas behind Shop(Save?)-a-Lot. Later ate a few too many walnuts.
I watched my clothes get washed, 30min. Did not use a dryer. Considered how much washing is done (& water, energy, human time used). . . I had not put my clothes in a machine for nearly three months. Did rinse shirt & shorts & vest & socks by hand on occasion.
[a portable gas chamber (an old idling truck) rumbles nearby . . . fumes leaking in]
First computer thing I did was fiddle with the ad situation of this blog. Maybe fiddled with mturk too, but the ads here were the main thing.
I did consider what and how I might write that could bring in ad $$--or how writing for ad $$ affects writing in general, in blogs, newspapers, etc. Had no insights. I don't want to spend much time fiddling or networking online. Walking around, doing odd/interesting things, writing about them, adding pictures. . . could be an approach I would take. Yoffe, the human ginny pig does this (minus the pics).
But I'm more like the mariners, most who just write because they like to/need to. The three main personal bloggers I read had no ads (they have jobs--even if they choose to work only half the year).
The ads here are an interesting complement to the blog. There was a video ad for dentists yesterday. And an ad for compulsive eaters, sail crew, marine jobs. I'm not allowed to click on them though, though I might be the person most interested in them! Even writing about ads like this is potentially problematic, perhaps, given the terms of service. There is a tool I can download that lets me click them. Authors can even fiddle with the type of ads that appear, auction particular spaces for ads, get statistics by advertiser and ad space, and on and on.
Donations? Well--that would be a joke perhaps. I seem to be flailing around waiting to die sometimes. If I'm (if I were) homeless, is it because I choose to be? I don't need money I think. Need(?) something else. Simple engagement? Good to do? Do my thoughts extend to everyone? If I don't need donations, does anyone? How can anyone be helped if I'm a person who doesn't need help? [We all need help?
I seem to have an issue with having a self. I have a body, a name, people call me by it, an email address, I email my dad and he responds. Laurie talks to me. My grandma--well, at the moment, I live here. . . Any actual emotional attachment there? There's not? . . .
yesterday or earlier, got to babbling thusly:
(Title: Pretend I am in a company working with o
thers, sensing what needs to be done-- what needs to be done that I will do.
{or tribe, or nation. To get out of the first-person focus? To incorporate first person into a broader focus?}
to walk around, to live simply, to view that as 'working with others.'
be an example, hypothesis of how to live well earning, owning, consuming little. In this culture?
what is being done.
my identity: forgotten every day, the previous day's thoughts, except the aimlessness? What will I wake up to and not forget?
What will I wake up to and not forget?
The broader world marks the mind.
solid self evanesce)
the only thing I may wake up to and not forget is to not commit?, is to wander. To write?
]---------
A rejection. It is networking and action and service which gives people places in the world. I've done those things. But always, finally, recoil.
There is less unhappiness and desperation in me than there was a year or so ago, I think. I am closer and closer to productively free (vs the freedom of death)--I have that feeling. I have grown, exercised capabilities in need of exercising in the past months.
Where was I?
Later I got into looking at Metta Forest Monastery (donation-based and much smaller, more austere than Deerpark)--then a retreat site came up with retreat jobs, which referred back to wwoofing.
I also got to looking at shoes @ zappos.com -- 'Simple' brand, thanks to Laurie, aspiring green consumer, and in this case, opinion leader (or whatever the term is).
And of course wondering why I'm not making my shoes or barefoot like Mike, Elpel. . .
Seeking jobs or just walking away, shoes would be handy. Do I order them or find a store (Payless is down @ 54th, not a too horrid walk), buy whatever's there.
If job-seeking here in SD, need transit pass perhaps. Looked at that this AM.
Did read a bit more of Calvino's _Cuentos Fantasticos_ too.
---
I've fallen back into starting small. I got out the phone book and looked at temp companies. I started filling out an app to be a temp for SDSU.
Temp=minimal commitment, will not accept full-time work for longer than two weeks.
Why am I not seeking more challenge course work? I don't want to travel(?) And would like to work with a smaller group of people over the long term. . . Though I did have fun with that.
Why am I not bolder about wwoofing? . . . With interning at Camp Stevens?
who knows.
the only thing I seem to be doing is: filling out the computer app to be a temp at SDSU. I'll go to campus, where there's a better internet connection, to finish it.
I seem to be content with that. It may be a prelude to registering with more SD temp companies.
So I'm not exctly an independent person (anyone?). I'm looking to be told what to do, but do not want to commit to anything. Maybe I'll temp, until I get some new ideas. Look at Camp Stevens, wwoofing more slowly.
would I still go with redpillsailor when he's ready?
peace,
Sunday, October 12, 2008
love, trick
I'm not exactly looking to start something intense, but here's a useful trick that may be more than a trick.
The woman in NYC who devastated me, somewhat, would do this:
look me in the eye and not smile, not frown, or say anything
to the point, one day, I could see the sunny spot the setting sun shining through her pupil made on the back of her eye, her retina. (did I already tell you?)
I showed a woman I met at [. . .] this--once she did this (not easy, the reflex is to laugh, look away), it was as intense. She wanted to love. (or something.)
Use this on whoever, a serious signal, I guess--the foreplay of foreplay that is not play. And what to do with that, I have no idea.
why this now? I don't know--if you're not seeking further madness with me, you may want confidence to do so with others. . . I guess I thought this could help? But you already knew something like this, or more? Probably, as often before, this is from far left field, a misunderstanding, faux pas, fundament of our companionship, accepted, gracefully, forgotten. Bat of an Eye.
peace,
Colin
posting to the blog too [no--only]. Mindful? Companionship vs. friendship? Helping one become the other? Hurting the one? [how tempered with disintensifiers!]
wwoof
Gianni, I'm more or less alright! (That last post is not easy to follow). The pool doesn't open till noon.
The TWIC (Transportation Worker Identification Card) may have put the nail in the coffin of the commercial seagoing effort. I'd have to pay $132.99 to find out whether I'm a terrorist and able to walk unaccompanied through a port. If you're suspected of sedition or attempted sedition (agitation against the government, written or otherwise, whatever whoever takes that to mean). . .
Well--I did want to work with others; an armed guard can escort me to my tug.
The costs and uncertainties kept adding up. (Merchant Mariner Doc: $155 + [physical + drug test = >$100] + transportation time and cost).
I looked through employment papers. Personal fitness trainer?
Put some time in on Amazon's mechanical turk ( mturk.com ). +$2?
Got to thinking maybe I should become a reviewer of homeless shelters. Looked into that. I may yet. Or a security guard there.
So what has to give? I did apply/begin applying to entry-level ship jobs with NOAA(?) (National Oceanographic and Atmospheric Admin?), and Kirby Marine (Texas, Lousiana fuel, chemical barges).
Have I worked on a team I'm with for 24 hrs day in/day out to accomplish a mission asks NOAA. What evidence do you have?
Well the evidence isn't good.
And I'm not sure how I'll deal with standing watches and diesel fumes, or a whole heck of a lot of it (Gulf summers and winters with Kirby). Well things could come through: NOAA, Kirby, SIU (Seafarers International Union) Paul Hall unlicensed mariner program.
So what has to give may be the moving around. . . at least at sea, in close quarters with others, until I establish a different work history.
Money is on the mind (just about below $2000 mark), money which is perhaps devaluing, And the weather is getting colder.
I'll probably check out WWOOFing ( wwoof.org ?). Must pay $20 for the book? Check used books?
Then looked at Camp Stevens--campstevens.org (?). Being an intern there could work! It is nearby, makes use of recent experience, has good gardens, I've worked on their challenge course before. Have met the gardener several times. It is in an actual forest.
Baja's general lack of trees got to me.
Dad, I did order _The New Hawsepipe_ (thenewhawsepipe.org ?), and sent it to Northern Virginia by mistake. Maybe mom can bring it out, but I don't really need it, I suppose.
An issue is the endless web applications asking for employment history.
For me that's wrong (many to list, too much time).
I look for what does not require those apps or soul-selling to "homeland security" (sedition?).
Go where there is not (/is less) bureaucracy. Go to where one is closer to essentials. To where you are known/need to know the people rather than have the right docs & paperwork. To where if there is paperwork, they'll help you get through it because you already know you want to work together.
I got to considering the potential of small boats. Can I kayak/canoe along San Diego/Sweetwater rivers. Along the coast? Mississippi? Inland waterway? With others?
That's what's up. If not Camp Stevens, then perhaps WWOOF, keep eye out for cruising boats to get on (San Carlos got hit by the hurricane--is redpill's boat ok?), for commercial opportunities too.
Goals:
- Keep moving (this may give, temporarily? Do I need to keep moving or just to leave Grandma Ann's house?)
- Avoid cars/urban areas (until their transformation to carfree is further along. Car use is consumption/destruction engine.)
- Work with others.
Peace,
The TWIC (Transportation Worker Identification Card) may have put the nail in the coffin of the commercial seagoing effort. I'd have to pay $132.99 to find out whether I'm a terrorist and able to walk unaccompanied through a port. If you're suspected of sedition or attempted sedition (agitation against the government, written or otherwise, whatever whoever takes that to mean). . .
Well--I did want to work with others; an armed guard can escort me to my tug.
The costs and uncertainties kept adding up. (Merchant Mariner Doc: $155 + [physical + drug test = >$100] + transportation time and cost).
I looked through employment papers. Personal fitness trainer?
Put some time in on Amazon's mechanical turk ( mturk.com ). +$2?
Got to thinking maybe I should become a reviewer of homeless shelters. Looked into that. I may yet. Or a security guard there.
So what has to give? I did apply/begin applying to entry-level ship jobs with NOAA(?) (National Oceanographic and Atmospheric Admin?), and Kirby Marine (Texas, Lousiana fuel, chemical barges).
Have I worked on a team I'm with for 24 hrs day in/day out to accomplish a mission asks NOAA. What evidence do you have?
Well the evidence isn't good.
And I'm not sure how I'll deal with standing watches and diesel fumes, or a whole heck of a lot of it (Gulf summers and winters with Kirby). Well things could come through: NOAA, Kirby, SIU (Seafarers International Union) Paul Hall unlicensed mariner program.
So what has to give may be the moving around. . . at least at sea, in close quarters with others, until I establish a different work history.
Money is on the mind (just about below $2000 mark), money which is perhaps devaluing, And the weather is getting colder.
I'll probably check out WWOOFing ( wwoof.org ?). Must pay $20 for the book? Check used books?
Then looked at Camp Stevens--campstevens.org (?). Being an intern there could work! It is nearby, makes use of recent experience, has good gardens, I've worked on their challenge course before. Have met the gardener several times. It is in an actual forest.
Baja's general lack of trees got to me.
Dad, I did order _The New Hawsepipe_ (thenewhawsepipe.org ?), and sent it to Northern Virginia by mistake. Maybe mom can bring it out, but I don't really need it, I suppose.
An issue is the endless web applications asking for employment history.
For me that's wrong (many to list, too much time).
I look for what does not require those apps or soul-selling to "homeland security" (sedition?).
Go where there is not (/is less) bureaucracy. Go to where one is closer to essentials. To where you are known/need to know the people rather than have the right docs & paperwork. To where if there is paperwork, they'll help you get through it because you already know you want to work together.
I got to considering the potential of small boats. Can I kayak/canoe along San Diego/Sweetwater rivers. Along the coast? Mississippi? Inland waterway? With others?
That's what's up. If not Camp Stevens, then perhaps WWOOF, keep eye out for cruising boats to get on (San Carlos got hit by the hurricane--is redpill's boat ok?), for commercial opportunities too.
Goals:
- Keep moving (this may give, temporarily? Do I need to keep moving or just to leave Grandma Ann's house?)
- Avoid cars/urban areas (until their transformation to carfree is further along. Car use is consumption/destruction engine.)
- Work with others.
Peace,
Friday, October 10, 2008
rebel-alternate-greenng trans-progressio
Just passing time while I air-dry, sitting on [a toilet in] a stall in the Kroc Center, attempting to bring a bit of introspection to mindless moving[, eating, reading, rut reinhabiting].
Now that I have a goal to work for (?) (working on a big ship/tug/etc), life is fine, until I realize the goal doesn't work. So will try to make this potential mistake slow, cheap.
It's not really ever a mistake, just another branch of the (carfree) path to follow, learn from, see where I end up.
Plusses:
o It keeps me moving. Working canals, long-term trips, I would not have the rut of a home base.
o Working with a team for the length of a trip.
Minuses:
o Irregular sleep from watch-keeping.
o Diesel fumes, other insults,--how bad will this be?
---
Previously: Rebelling(?) against idea that we must have a profession/career. By what oddness do masses of people believe they have some calling in life? [or some true love?] What perversity?
Or: that you must have trade/profession just to get by nicely--a bit more reasonable, but no more guiding.
Regardless of my thoughts about it, not having a trade. . . well computers was mine once.
Now: rebelling against idea that one must do something creative: business, art, Internet, etc. Why is going to sea not considered. (man whistling and farting next door makes focus a challenge). Business school is, engineering, doctors, dentistry, architecture, planning, politics, even now farming, all those, OK.
'Rebelling' isn't the right word. Just exploring the alternative.
What mindfulness could be added here? Better care of body? What does my friend's friendliness mean? Is that rut too? [or life?]
Better care of body[, mind]. (how balance care with use?) [Can use be care?]
Other than that, it is time to flail, act, react, evaluate later, as pauses come.
This mindless ocean/water/sky-hypnotized movement, is it life? or just another version of passing time painlessly as once was eight hours programming?
The life part is partly the new addition of being more with others(--life [flow/dao/tao] being homeostasis [no--better, perhaps: a flowing, growing into new spaces/across/through/into old boundaries. A complete break with past/previous/precedent being impossible, what I called homeostasis or settling (dialectic?) is just a result of having existence, of having come from somewhere?] ? A travel to extremes, an ever-return to balance[, if too much with others, life=more solo?]?)?
being more with others, moving stuff around, being not [only] our own agent, but agent of whatever is being done through us, such as, "greening of transport."
[Coming from somewhere, going somewhere--some sort of balance of this process could avoid both rut mindlessness and flailing mindless movement, eating, etc. I'm _not_ going nowhere, never will be, however little I do do. How to manage(?) the process, of having come, of being going? Eating: generally a rut mindlessness. Actual movement and non-commitment is more often movement mindlessness. Going upstairs to do old weight routine. . . is . . . not going and eating more tortillas . . . is . . . Both rut mindlessness, but one more healthy. True movement would be doing something healthy but (more) different than previous habits. (Having come from somewhere,) there will always be a cycle, a repetition. Could each cycle incorporate a new and more progressively healthy (or otherwise different in some positive way) difference. . . The big cycles are the big ruts--by taking aim at them, I can enable more progression? To somewhere? Or just stimulating change? The big cycles: (Transport of self, movement to obtain resources/experience in a physical environment.) Sleep, wake. Eat/not eat. Exercise/rest. Alone/with others. Act/reflect. Learn or create (perhaps by challenging fear) new pattern/repeat old. By never being near old physical environment and old acquaintances (and old languages/culture) many old patterns are disrupted, and the question "what now?" can happen more.
Some cycles, repetitions then generally enable flow and progression (healthy, moderate sleep/eat), some inhibit? Too great attachment to anything inhibits? Too little attachment to anything inhibits? Great attachment enables great progression? Great attachment to one thing (to the right things?) enables great progression? Attachment to many things inhibits?
. . .
By doing old weight routine with new/different thoughts/foci in mind, progression occurs? By being in familiar physical location with unfamiliar thoughts/ a different past. . .
What of the huge progressions? A farm at San Diego City College, a monkey in space, going from senator to president, from Jersey Turnpike Tollbooth Attendant to member of the Huaorani (sp?) tribe in the Amazonian Ecuador? From upper-middle-class LA Jewish kid to super-skilled Bedouin?
Individual progressions and collective progressions. . . we can progress from a people whose lives and collective actions destroy, to . . . we can progress from an organism defenseless against annihilation by asteroid . . . from defenseless nation to defended nation, to groups of nations not needing defense from one another, etc . . .
Individual's role and meaning in the collective progression?
what is the individual progression? the collective? Do we look to Wilber again?
We all sense, as in theory U, and collectively each larger cultural unit does the same?
{Ending reflective cycle/writing, resuming movement, action.
Locker room sounds (add 'em in). . . water (sometimes obsessive flushing), doors, rattling on metal, slams, drops of bags, pressing of soap dispensers, developmentally disabled (random honks), financial planner firm mgrs (an employee issue), now a schizophrenic(?), to self(?): "Y-y-y know, Charles Lindbergh flew over the Atlantic," (laughs} "[. . .] E-e-even now, who cares?"
]
Peace,
Now that I have a goal to work for (?) (working on a big ship/tug/etc), life is fine, until I realize the goal doesn't work. So will try to make this potential mistake slow, cheap.
It's not really ever a mistake, just another branch of the (carfree) path to follow, learn from, see where I end up.
Plusses:
o It keeps me moving. Working canals, long-term trips, I would not have the rut of a home base.
o Working with a team for the length of a trip.
Minuses:
o Irregular sleep from watch-keeping.
o Diesel fumes, other insults,--how bad will this be?
---
Previously: Rebelling(?) against idea that we must have a profession/career. By what oddness do masses of people believe they have some calling in life? [or some true love?] What perversity?
Or: that you must have trade/profession just to get by nicely--a bit more reasonable, but no more guiding.
Regardless of my thoughts about it, not having a trade. . . well computers was mine once.
Now: rebelling against idea that one must do something creative: business, art, Internet, etc. Why is going to sea not considered. (man whistling and farting next door makes focus a challenge). Business school is, engineering, doctors, dentistry, architecture, planning, politics, even now farming, all those, OK.
'Rebelling' isn't the right word. Just exploring the alternative.
What mindfulness could be added here? Better care of body? What does my friend's friendliness mean? Is that rut too? [or life?]
Better care of body[, mind]. (how balance care with use?) [Can use be care?]
Other than that, it is time to flail, act, react, evaluate later, as pauses come.
This mindless ocean/water/sky-hypnotized movement, is it life? or just another version of passing time painlessly as once was eight hours programming?
The life part is partly the new addition of being more with others(--life [flow/dao/tao] being homeostasis [no--better, perhaps: a flowing, growing into new spaces/across/through/into old boundaries. A complete break with past/previous/precedent being impossible, what I called homeostasis or settling (dialectic?) is just a result of having existence, of having come from somewhere?] ? A travel to extremes, an ever-return to balance[, if too much with others, life=more solo?]?)?
being more with others, moving stuff around, being not [only] our own agent, but agent of whatever is being done through us, such as, "greening of transport."
[Coming from somewhere, going somewhere--some sort of balance of this process could avoid both rut mindlessness and flailing mindless movement, eating, etc. I'm _not_ going nowhere, never will be, however little I do do. How to manage(?) the process, of having come, of being going? Eating: generally a rut mindlessness. Actual movement and non-commitment is more often movement mindlessness. Going upstairs to do old weight routine. . . is . . . not going and eating more tortillas . . . is . . . Both rut mindlessness, but one more healthy. True movement would be doing something healthy but (more) different than previous habits. (Having come from somewhere,) there will always be a cycle, a repetition. Could each cycle incorporate a new and more progressively healthy (or otherwise different in some positive way) difference. . . The big cycles are the big ruts--by taking aim at them, I can enable more progression? To somewhere? Or just stimulating change? The big cycles: (Transport of self, movement to obtain resources/experience in a physical environment.) Sleep, wake. Eat/not eat. Exercise/rest. Alone/with others. Act/reflect. Learn or create (perhaps by challenging fear) new pattern/repeat old. By never being near old physical environment and old acquaintances (and old languages/culture) many old patterns are disrupted, and the question "what now?" can happen more.
Some cycles, repetitions then generally enable flow and progression (healthy, moderate sleep/eat), some inhibit? Too great attachment to anything inhibits? Too little attachment to anything inhibits? Great attachment enables great progression? Great attachment to one thing (to the right things?) enables great progression? Attachment to many things inhibits?
. . .
By doing old weight routine with new/different thoughts/foci in mind, progression occurs? By being in familiar physical location with unfamiliar thoughts/ a different past. . .
What of the huge progressions? A farm at San Diego City College, a monkey in space, going from senator to president, from Jersey Turnpike Tollbooth Attendant to member of the Huaorani (sp?) tribe in the Amazonian Ecuador? From upper-middle-class LA Jewish kid to super-skilled Bedouin?
Individual progressions and collective progressions. . . we can progress from a people whose lives and collective actions destroy, to . . . we can progress from an organism defenseless against annihilation by asteroid . . . from defenseless nation to defended nation, to groups of nations not needing defense from one another, etc . . .
Individual's role and meaning in the collective progression?
what is the individual progression? the collective? Do we look to Wilber again?
We all sense, as in theory U, and collectively each larger cultural unit does the same?
{Ending reflective cycle/writing, resuming movement, action.
Locker room sounds (add 'em in). . . water (sometimes obsessive flushing), doors, rattling on metal, slams, drops of bags, pressing of soap dispensers, developmentally disabled (random honks), financial planner firm mgrs (an employee issue), now a schizophrenic(?), to self(?): "Y-y-y know, Charles Lindbergh flew over the Atlantic," (laughs} "[. . .] E-e-even now, who cares?"
]
Peace,
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Urban Camping?; Rut.
Well, I'm back in SD in the place I tried to get unstuck from. May never get unstuck? So it goes in hours: got computer out; got email taken care of and pics up; started looking for jobs; sort of gave up seeking using computer; free internet failed; started feeling like I should get out of here ASAP--tomorrow morning, perhaps to Monterey; using cell phone, got to looking at craigslist rideshares, then jobs, volunteering, etc; then decided to post. "Urban Camping?" is in _strictly platonic_, but maybe _activity partners_ would be better, but can't crosspost:
---
Looking for folks who might want to camp out around town. Admittedly it may be risky and not always the most pleasant (lights, noise, air pollution, helicopters), but maybe we can plan grander adventures to more serene places.
We can also camp at friends' backyards.
I'm happy to share techniques--I've done two months in the sierras, a week at Ensenada, a total of two or so weeks over the years at various places in urban SD county, three weeks or so in rural/wilderness SD county. And I have plenty to learn.
basically, we can meet somewhere, walk until we find a decent place to sleep, sleep, & perhaps cook breakfast in the morning there or at a nearby park grill.
---
that's it.
what now?
I know society values those who can develop and implement prosocial visions over the longterm. (Eliot Jacques/requisite organization/holacracy/etc.)
I know society values those who can lead others instead of simply selling their time and labor to those who pay the most for what one can tolerate doing.
so. . .
well anyway, I don't know what I'm doing. I suppose I could head to Monterey and camp there until I find something I can sell myself to, if being here gets to be too much.
the rut is: mindless eating, exercising, internetting, reading of union tribune. Walking around car-infested, paved neighborhoods I've been in for too long.
potential outs that appeal somewhat are: sea/coast work of some kind; urban planning work of some kind; or just continuing to wander, but with others in some way?
the nearby senior center in the Jewish Community Ctr is looking for volunteers too.
Peace,
---
Looking for folks who might want to camp out around town. Admittedly it may be risky and not always the most pleasant (lights, noise, air pollution, helicopters), but maybe we can plan grander adventures to more serene places.
We can also camp at friends' backyards.
I'm happy to share techniques--I've done two months in the sierras, a week at Ensenada, a total of two or so weeks over the years at various places in urban SD county, three weeks or so in rural/wilderness SD county. And I have plenty to learn.
basically, we can meet somewhere, walk until we find a decent place to sleep, sleep, & perhaps cook breakfast in the morning there or at a nearby park grill.
---
that's it.
what now?
I know society values those who can develop and implement prosocial visions over the longterm. (Eliot Jacques/requisite organization/holacracy/etc.)
I know society values those who can lead others instead of simply selling their time and labor to those who pay the most for what one can tolerate doing.
so. . .
well anyway, I don't know what I'm doing. I suppose I could head to Monterey and camp there until I find something I can sell myself to, if being here gets to be too much.
the rut is: mindless eating, exercising, internetting, reading of union tribune. Walking around car-infested, paved neighborhoods I've been in for too long.
potential outs that appeal somewhat are: sea/coast work of some kind; urban planning work of some kind; or just continuing to wander, but with others in some way?
the nearby senior center in the Jewish Community Ctr is looking for volunteers too.
Peace,
returning?
I think I'll go back to Grandma Ann's house today. I don't have a good plan of what to do next and how to get out of there though.
I sort of want something good to do--like work in urban planning, something related to carfreeness, affecting public opinion, marketing, organizing. I read a lot of the Worldchanging blog last night--but was thinking that way before then.
I don't have a lot of faith in my ability to commit to something long-term. I still think I may go with or at least check out that sailor, redpillsailor, when he's ready to leave on his long trip.
Being here was healing in a way in that it nearly could be an urban environment that is humane. . . parts of it, and makes me want to participate in it rather than avoid it.
The monastery is another possibility. A very good one, perhaps. They specialize in humane environments--at least Deerpark seems to.
I will use up a lot of $$ if I go to Deerpark-$25/day, but perhaps I should.
The only other path seems to be urban planning somewhere--and most urban environments seem to too depressing to me to want to move around in, to want to try to help. The Worldchanging crew seems to be able to live in it and work to change it.
So, the monastery then? Register for a two-week retreat? -$350? Stay at Grandma Ann's until it is time to go?
Monasteries or sailing--two fairly carfree environments. By putting myself in either, I think I do help--
So I don't need to return to Ann's--I can arrange from here to visit the monastery, and only leave a bit before it is time to go.
But it is time to move somewhere.
Deer Park, Metta Forest, then? Sail? Would like to be with others working on something good--sailing a bit questionable that way, but fear needing to be buddhist without really believing in some of their guidelines (no meat [not all buddhists], no masturbation, who knows what else), needing to deal with the built-in conservativism Brother Stream and others mentioned.
Imagining myself returning to society, needing new clothes, new shoes, not yet quite ready to make my own, like Mike--well, I suppose I could. . .
But do feel that buying--and fitting in with establishment, say as urban planning Intern, could be a poor step--unless I was with Worldchangers, if they really are.
So, I can head back and research worldchanging-type jobs. Make my own shoes or something. I don't want to deal with the urban mistakes wherever those WC opporunities might be. . . want the world already changed. . . Sort of want to stay south of the US--
As you can see, I don't really know.
I guess I will just fall back into rut. Stop this questioning. Release it (following Theory U, Scharmer). Next step will be apparent or will happen to me.
So, why should I leave here? Reasonably comfortably I can hang out on this hill south of town, going down once a day for water, food, exercise. . . @$5/day or less. Can do cheaper at Grandma Ann's perhaps (no $$ for water, & less food buying because storage, foraging easier).
So that's the state of things. Pretty sure I'll be returning today. Tried to contact activist friend Jorge, to visit his garden, but haven't gotten any word back.
Peace,
I sort of want something good to do--like work in urban planning, something related to carfreeness, affecting public opinion, marketing, organizing. I read a lot of the Worldchanging blog last night--but was thinking that way before then.
I don't have a lot of faith in my ability to commit to something long-term. I still think I may go with or at least check out that sailor, redpillsailor, when he's ready to leave on his long trip.
Being here was healing in a way in that it nearly could be an urban environment that is humane. . . parts of it, and makes me want to participate in it rather than avoid it.
The monastery is another possibility. A very good one, perhaps. They specialize in humane environments--at least Deerpark seems to.
I will use up a lot of $$ if I go to Deerpark-$25/day, but perhaps I should.
The only other path seems to be urban planning somewhere--and most urban environments seem to too depressing to me to want to move around in, to want to try to help. The Worldchanging crew seems to be able to live in it and work to change it.
So, the monastery then? Register for a two-week retreat? -$350? Stay at Grandma Ann's until it is time to go?
Monasteries or sailing--two fairly carfree environments. By putting myself in either, I think I do help--
So I don't need to return to Ann's--I can arrange from here to visit the monastery, and only leave a bit before it is time to go.
But it is time to move somewhere.
Deer Park, Metta Forest, then? Sail? Would like to be with others working on something good--sailing a bit questionable that way, but fear needing to be buddhist without really believing in some of their guidelines (no meat [not all buddhists], no masturbation, who knows what else), needing to deal with the built-in conservativism Brother Stream and others mentioned.
Imagining myself returning to society, needing new clothes, new shoes, not yet quite ready to make my own, like Mike--well, I suppose I could. . .
But do feel that buying--and fitting in with establishment, say as urban planning Intern, could be a poor step--unless I was with Worldchangers, if they really are.
So, I can head back and research worldchanging-type jobs. Make my own shoes or something. I don't want to deal with the urban mistakes wherever those WC opporunities might be. . . want the world already changed. . . Sort of want to stay south of the US--
As you can see, I don't really know.
I guess I will just fall back into rut. Stop this questioning. Release it (following Theory U, Scharmer). Next step will be apparent or will happen to me.
So, why should I leave here? Reasonably comfortably I can hang out on this hill south of town, going down once a day for water, food, exercise. . . @$5/day or less. Can do cheaper at Grandma Ann's perhaps (no $$ for water, & less food buying because storage, foraging easier).
So that's the state of things. Pretty sure I'll be returning today. Tried to contact activist friend Jorge, to visit his garden, but haven't gotten any word back.
Peace,
Monday, October 6, 2008
Morso (walrus)
That googling was the last gasp of a seemingly endless one megabyte of data. I hit the race PDFs, partly to see if it _was_ unlimited--guess that took care of it.
The Hound Dawg skipper came to his senses, decided not to take me, but said it was an issue adding me to the crewlist in bringing me into the US. That is apparently not a problem, however, but concern with bringing a somewhat grungy stranger & his bag across the border may have been.
That left me little time to get to the marina where the day's race around Todos Santos Island--famous for monster 50-foot waves to surf--started to see if anyone else needed crew. I took, for the first time this trip, one of those ubiquitous little buses--$7, <$.70dlls. And got on board the Morso.
It had rained off and on the night before--but rarely above a heavy drizzle, and I avoided moving and pitching tarp. So got wet and wondered if should move and pitch, and amen'd Jardine's focus on synthetic insulation versus down (partly for usefulness when wet/damp, partly for ease of home construction). Who thought it'd rain on me here before November?
It took longer to cook in the morning than I expected--I was rushing at the end, though I woke at 0640. But I had to be at Hound Dawg by 0930--a half-hour walk. Hard shift from needing to pass as much time as possible as pleasantly as possible to needing to be somewhere at a time. I wasn't even sure there was no hour difference due to differences with daylight savings time between US and Mexico. I'd never before checked what the local time was.
Describing these events after the fact is too solid. In reality it was more like riding a wave--getting off could have happened so easily: being late, quitting after Hound Dawg's no, deciding to walk the whole way instead of taking bus, figuring out how to catch bus, being patient waiting, getting past security at Coral marina, finding a boat that had not left yet, that was ready to go, that was needing crew that instant.
The sailing was peaceful. Five hours.
Afterward the surfing began again: what do I do? Can I get a ride to SD? Is adding a crew to your list that hard? If I'd approached one friendly boat differently perhaps I'd have got a ride to Mission Bay--as it was I filled my jug with marina water--the Ensenada doctor I'd crewed for said it was fine if you boil it (forgot to ask about the water that boats put in their tanks)--and prepared to head to the hills--but knowing that their regatta awards party was in walking distance, perhaps I'd stop in--
It _was_ the way I was headed. I solicited inside for a bit, but then went out to wait for groups as they arrived, and got to talking with Mario, the security guy/parking lot attendant.
Magic. It is tranquil now--he said--I could begin to feel his sense. But the sound of the cars always there--I said. Beyond, above that--he said--in the light. . . in the breeze on your face, pausing to demonstrate, he gave more example than words. I then felt and knew his sense, what he meant, the tranquilidad he was describing. . . in that moment he is a great teacher, show-er. Are you a metaphysic? I asked (I had noted a vipassana & related presentation by a guy who used the word: metafisicasedecentral.com / metafisicayosoy @ hotmail . And that turned him on. He showed me a trance as he stared at the setting sun, and in him I saw Ramakrishna, knew he _was_ there. I am paranormal--he said (all this is my rough memory, understanding, translation, condensation of his Spanish, which was wonderful for me because of the intense meaning in his speech, his patience with my Spanish, his not switching to English [he's not proficient at it])--I speak with crows, los cuervos . . . I see infra-red . . . I see GPS signals. I kept listening--we each occasionally attending to our duties--him as greeter, me as solicitor of rides north--and I posed to him my life problems. How do I choose? How did you choose?
No resolution, perhaps, did he give me in his respuestas. . . but I have yet to really consider/contemplate this encounter, what was being expressed. Eventually I left to walk up to the hills. Partway to the path a man who'd come from the restaurant was waving up at me--I thought I had a ride. It was an employee/friend of the doctor inviting me to stay as the dr's guest.
The doctor knows my type (however momentary), I sense, and I'm not sure what my type's relation is to the established man and significant contributor to the life and wealthier/more powerful society of a town. He was ready to let me be. But his (younger) novia(o? thought I heard him say)--I bet it was her idea.
--
The broad details of the day are down, enough for now. Tomorrow? May call my activist friend, ask to visit his garden, spend another night on the south side of town. Make an appointment with a dentist recommended by the doctor (dr's name is Joel = Ho-el). Catch a bus back to TJ/ Tecate. Visit UABC library. Who knows. The Morso sails ~ every other Sunday, mentioned Terry, Joel's novia.
I walk up by the dr's house on the way to the sleeping spot closest to the center of town. Here, where I am now, I'm a bit further north, near where I was the first night, straight up from and a bit south of where the regatta party was--something like ~Sare's Steakhouse & Cafe, though we had mexican food buffet, $20dlls per.
Hound Dawg is a high-powered, fancy US racer, forty+ feet(?) (It took second today. Staghound was first, and did not attend the awards ceremony. So far ahead it was it may have gone on North right away.), with a laid-back (so the crew says) crew of more than five(?). Morso is an old 26' fiberglass nothing fancy--with a crew this time of four (Joel, Terecita, & Carlos, who showed up after me--a longtime crew-er of nine years with Ensenada yacht club races, he set up the spinnaker).
Peace,
The Hound Dawg skipper came to his senses, decided not to take me, but said it was an issue adding me to the crewlist in bringing me into the US. That is apparently not a problem, however, but concern with bringing a somewhat grungy stranger & his bag across the border may have been.
That left me little time to get to the marina where the day's race around Todos Santos Island--famous for monster 50-foot waves to surf--started to see if anyone else needed crew. I took, for the first time this trip, one of those ubiquitous little buses--$7, <$.70dlls. And got on board the Morso.
It had rained off and on the night before--but rarely above a heavy drizzle, and I avoided moving and pitching tarp. So got wet and wondered if should move and pitch, and amen'd Jardine's focus on synthetic insulation versus down (partly for usefulness when wet/damp, partly for ease of home construction). Who thought it'd rain on me here before November?
It took longer to cook in the morning than I expected--I was rushing at the end, though I woke at 0640. But I had to be at Hound Dawg by 0930--a half-hour walk. Hard shift from needing to pass as much time as possible as pleasantly as possible to needing to be somewhere at a time. I wasn't even sure there was no hour difference due to differences with daylight savings time between US and Mexico. I'd never before checked what the local time was.
Describing these events after the fact is too solid. In reality it was more like riding a wave--getting off could have happened so easily: being late, quitting after Hound Dawg's no, deciding to walk the whole way instead of taking bus, figuring out how to catch bus, being patient waiting, getting past security at Coral marina, finding a boat that had not left yet, that was ready to go, that was needing crew that instant.
The sailing was peaceful. Five hours.
Afterward the surfing began again: what do I do? Can I get a ride to SD? Is adding a crew to your list that hard? If I'd approached one friendly boat differently perhaps I'd have got a ride to Mission Bay--as it was I filled my jug with marina water--the Ensenada doctor I'd crewed for said it was fine if you boil it (forgot to ask about the water that boats put in their tanks)--and prepared to head to the hills--but knowing that their regatta awards party was in walking distance, perhaps I'd stop in--
It _was_ the way I was headed. I solicited inside for a bit, but then went out to wait for groups as they arrived, and got to talking with Mario, the security guy/parking lot attendant.
Magic. It is tranquil now--he said--I could begin to feel his sense. But the sound of the cars always there--I said. Beyond, above that--he said--in the light. . . in the breeze on your face, pausing to demonstrate, he gave more example than words. I then felt and knew his sense, what he meant, the tranquilidad he was describing. . . in that moment he is a great teacher, show-er. Are you a metaphysic? I asked (I had noted a vipassana & related presentation by a guy who used the word: metafisicasedecentral.com / metafisicayosoy @ hotmail . And that turned him on. He showed me a trance as he stared at the setting sun, and in him I saw Ramakrishna, knew he _was_ there. I am paranormal--he said (all this is my rough memory, understanding, translation, condensation of his Spanish, which was wonderful for me because of the intense meaning in his speech, his patience with my Spanish, his not switching to English [he's not proficient at it])--I speak with crows, los cuervos . . . I see infra-red . . . I see GPS signals. I kept listening--we each occasionally attending to our duties--him as greeter, me as solicitor of rides north--and I posed to him my life problems. How do I choose? How did you choose?
No resolution, perhaps, did he give me in his respuestas. . . but I have yet to really consider/contemplate this encounter, what was being expressed. Eventually I left to walk up to the hills. Partway to the path a man who'd come from the restaurant was waving up at me--I thought I had a ride. It was an employee/friend of the doctor inviting me to stay as the dr's guest.
The doctor knows my type (however momentary), I sense, and I'm not sure what my type's relation is to the established man and significant contributor to the life and wealthier/more powerful society of a town. He was ready to let me be. But his (younger) novia(o? thought I heard him say)--I bet it was her idea.
--
The broad details of the day are down, enough for now. Tomorrow? May call my activist friend, ask to visit his garden, spend another night on the south side of town. Make an appointment with a dentist recommended by the doctor (dr's name is Joel = Ho-el). Catch a bus back to TJ/ Tecate. Visit UABC library. Who knows. The Morso sails ~ every other Sunday, mentioned Terry, Joel's novia.
I walk up by the dr's house on the way to the sleeping spot closest to the center of town. Here, where I am now, I'm a bit further north, near where I was the first night, straight up from and a bit south of where the regatta party was--something like ~Sare's Steakhouse & Cafe, though we had mexican food buffet, $20dlls per.
Hound Dawg is a high-powered, fancy US racer, forty+ feet(?) (It took second today. Staghound was first, and did not attend the awards ceremony. So far ahead it was it may have gone on North right away.), with a laid-back (so the crew says) crew of more than five(?). Morso is an old 26' fiberglass nothing fancy--with a crew this time of four (Joel, Terecita, & Carlos, who showed up after me--a longtime crew-er of nine years with Ensenada yacht club races, he set up the spinnaker).
Peace,
Saturday, October 4, 2008
Hounddawg
If all goes well (or who really can say what would be best?), tomorrow I'll get to crew on Hounddawg (Annapolis, MD; captain: Drew) in the race around Todos Santos (?) Island (an island at the edge of the bay). I may be able to sail with them back to San Diego too.
I almost blew the whole thing: the paper I read about the race in, _The Log_ or _Baja Times_, said, I believe, that they would not arrive until late Saturday afternoon at the earliest. While shitting on the hillside around 4pm this afternoon, I googled "San Diego Ensenada race sail" and found they had already reported times, that it is only 60 nautical miles from Point Loma to Ensenada, that the awards ceremony was at noon today, and so on.
I walked quickly over to Hotel San Nicholas and asked around of the people still there--and found these guys in red shirts, playing pool, a bit drunk, who had been shorthanded on the way down.
This got me into the Cruise Port Marina, where I could take a shower and post more notes about seeking to crew. Now I'm back on top of the hill closest to town. Btw, midnight two nights ago one older guy and two younger ones walked by this spot--oblivious to me it seemed.
Aside from that, I had managed to enjoy being patient on the hillside, looking around (I never noticed a lot of sailboats coming in, but they may have all arrived Friday night), reading Calvino, partly in the shade of a bush. I was going to go down, get water, come back up, not go into town until Sunday.
It's drizzling.
2008-10-04-0940
Peace,
I almost blew the whole thing: the paper I read about the race in, _The Log_ or _Baja Times_, said, I believe, that they would not arrive until late Saturday afternoon at the earliest. While shitting on the hillside around 4pm this afternoon, I googled "San Diego Ensenada race sail" and found they had already reported times, that it is only 60 nautical miles from Point Loma to Ensenada, that the awards ceremony was at noon today, and so on.
I walked quickly over to Hotel San Nicholas and asked around of the people still there--and found these guys in red shirts, playing pool, a bit drunk, who had been shorthanded on the way down.
This got me into the Cruise Port Marina, where I could take a shower and post more notes about seeking to crew. Now I'm back on top of the hill closest to town. Btw, midnight two nights ago one older guy and two younger ones walked by this spot--oblivious to me it seemed.
Aside from that, I had managed to enjoy being patient on the hillside, looking around (I never noticed a lot of sailboats coming in, but they may have all arrived Friday night), reading Calvino, partly in the shade of a bush. I was going to go down, get water, come back up, not go into town until Sunday.
It's drizzling.
2008-10-04-0940
Peace,
grad school
If I last out here until October 20th or so, maybe that's a way of looking at this time. [grad hobo school]
There's a big ground-breaking for a community garden near where I used to live on 10/21, and my mom may be in SD at that time--
Thursday I did not meet the marineros, but the activists instead. The sailors don't meet at Vendimia _every_ Jueves, I was told. However, at the end of the SD -> Ensenada race which started Friday, they gather at the Saint Nicholas hotel--
I did mend my pack: for me a great accomplishment and industry and some inventiveness (used the tab of a Tecate can to run drawstring through so it doesn't cut the sil-nylon any more).
Tues night I was out near Sauzal. Went back to UABC library Weds. Found beautiful coast walk and another back way (past security) into El Coral marina. Posted note seeking to crew. Found new spot practically right over town (in hills) Weds night. Thursday went back out coast walk, swam, found shade, sewed, lay hypnotized by sounds and sights of ocean and ocean life. Have not spent this kind of time right on the coast for years--if I lived near water and beach in SoCal, maybe. . . [something].
But mind was voided [what now? Nothing], and Thursday asked about buses to TJ. Could cost only $10 dlls, but haven't verified. ABC bus line. Every half hour. Trip is just an hour or less? So easy to return. But heard the Valle de Guadeloupe(sp?) is even more beautiful than the coast for at least one SoCal transplant (a marketer). I believe this is along the road from Sauzal to Tecate. Were I headed back north and manage not to rush, hope to go that way--catch the smaller buses or hitch. Wine Country.
I managed to hang on though. I have nothing to do in SD, nothing to do here[--nothing comes to mind]. Why leave? And I won't let myself return to old rut, won't return without some plan of what I'd be doing and when I'd get out.
I did meet the activists in the plaza of large gold heads. October 2, 1968 students were killed (50 or so?) by soldiers in Mexico City(, at UNAM?). The activists would like permanent display space for information about this killing and related issues in this plaza of (~2m altura) gold heads( of prominent males in the fairytale Mexican history--hidalgo, juarez, and??[ De Goma/de Vasca?]).
I spoke most with Jorge--he could find me folks to stay with, invited me to 10peso/pint beer the next day at Amigos, shared info so we could stay in touch. I had my carfree vest on--this is sort of my crowd. . . we knew folks in common from the City Heights Free Skool & Organic Collective. He'd watched from the top of the fence, Mexico side, when the Border Patrol came in on 'no borders camp' (US side) and grabbed one activist and were beating the guy.
Well--I haven't followed up yet. Was sort of thinking of heading north at the time. Things are different in the mornings. I was a bit tired out yesterday [Friday] and laid around in various spots where I found shade: where I woke, until sun was higher, reading papers I'd collected; by the rock wall of the overlook on Chualtepec (sp?) hill, listening to a probably professional drummer practicing in one of the large, interestingly-architectured houses nearby; and in the oasis of shade and mellowly great public space at Parque de Revolución--a ways off the main tourist street. Cruise ship patrons were running through the latter, the town bimbos trying to catch the (generally American, somewhat frat-ish) cruise ship bimbos.
In el Parque, practicing sitting on a bench, sort of felt like a Quaker meeting. Eventually settled down and just sat. Eventually got to reading more Calvino--this time a Spanish translation, his Cuentos Fantasticos del Siglo XIX (something like that). At one point helped my benchmate move our bench a bit so he could be more in the shade. Eventually the little whiffs of exhaust I'd been getting got to be too much. Resolved to get food and make for the plaza near the harbor (better air) and head south for the evening. So now I'm on a hill south of town after having spent some time along the beach south of town [in the afternoon shade behind a deserted guard box/casa de vigilancia].
Some notes of things to look up sometime:
o a google search on "baja permaculture" -- I did this and . . . A site near TJ came up--
o http://trifund.org - united world of art, evironment, culture
o Augen Optics (has a fancy factory near where I spent night in Sauzal)
o Santorini ? Fancy blank façade--toughish males out front. & sanoviv(e) , while you're at it--the med school.
o Ongley Institute
o IWAHQ.org - publishes _Water_ a water industry mag.
o Titulos en español y en lenguas indigenas - www.culturaspopulareseindigenas.gob.mx / cnca.gob.mx
o council cudadano de atención al tourista - ccat
o Coleus (a genus of plant?)
o Comisión de Amor
o Frente Popular Revolución - pcmml.com
o junkraft.blogspot.com - ecomariner Joel Paschel
o solidnav.com / repower
o hospitalityclub.org (ensenada hosp. club)
o bajanews.info
o ensenadadentalgroup.com (a visit to dentist could be good, if they were)
o juventud con una misión (rehab?)
--
A lot of the wondering, when mind not blanked by rolling waves, waves hitting rocks, pelicans flying, surging water, sparkles, light, has been '. . . well, now what?'
Haven't been driven to head to that mountain--not yet, so far. Sort of feel I'm done wandering alone? So: wait around still more to try to meet some sailors who may need crew. Wait until redpillsailor is ready to leave--. Go to family farm and grow something(s). Go to monastery. Continue to hang out and do nothing/read ebooks/whatever. Go back to SoCal or US somewhere (along beach? or anywhere else--) get some sort of job [McDs?], make money, pay rent--, go work on some permaculture project-- , urban planning or library school/work--
have entertained and imagined out those possibilities and a few others. . .
The continuing themes: not wanting to commit to any significant ?? (such as becoming a buddhist, such as making the effort to visit the permaculture site, such as asking anyone for anything [let me crew, let me have this job], such as . . .)
Lest you think it's too idyllic out here--always seems to be at least one spry mosquito out on these hills. And I haven't sewn Ray's anti-mosquito gear, and not until tonight has it really been cool enough to stay covered with quilt.
Peace,
There's a big ground-breaking for a community garden near where I used to live on 10/21, and my mom may be in SD at that time--
Thursday I did not meet the marineros, but the activists instead. The sailors don't meet at Vendimia _every_ Jueves, I was told. However, at the end of the SD -> Ensenada race which started Friday, they gather at the Saint Nicholas hotel--
I did mend my pack: for me a great accomplishment and industry and some inventiveness (used the tab of a Tecate can to run drawstring through so it doesn't cut the sil-nylon any more).
Tues night I was out near Sauzal. Went back to UABC library Weds. Found beautiful coast walk and another back way (past security) into El Coral marina. Posted note seeking to crew. Found new spot practically right over town (in hills) Weds night. Thursday went back out coast walk, swam, found shade, sewed, lay hypnotized by sounds and sights of ocean and ocean life. Have not spent this kind of time right on the coast for years--if I lived near water and beach in SoCal, maybe. . . [something].
But mind was voided [what now? Nothing], and Thursday asked about buses to TJ. Could cost only $10 dlls, but haven't verified. ABC bus line. Every half hour. Trip is just an hour or less? So easy to return. But heard the Valle de Guadeloupe(sp?) is even more beautiful than the coast for at least one SoCal transplant (a marketer). I believe this is along the road from Sauzal to Tecate. Were I headed back north and manage not to rush, hope to go that way--catch the smaller buses or hitch. Wine Country.
I managed to hang on though. I have nothing to do in SD, nothing to do here[--nothing comes to mind]. Why leave? And I won't let myself return to old rut, won't return without some plan of what I'd be doing and when I'd get out.
I did meet the activists in the plaza of large gold heads. October 2, 1968 students were killed (50 or so?) by soldiers in Mexico City(, at UNAM?). The activists would like permanent display space for information about this killing and related issues in this plaza of (~2m altura) gold heads( of prominent males in the fairytale Mexican history--hidalgo, juarez, and??[ De Goma/de Vasca?]).
I spoke most with Jorge--he could find me folks to stay with, invited me to 10peso/pint beer the next day at Amigos, shared info so we could stay in touch. I had my carfree vest on--this is sort of my crowd. . . we knew folks in common from the City Heights Free Skool & Organic Collective. He'd watched from the top of the fence, Mexico side, when the Border Patrol came in on 'no borders camp' (US side) and grabbed one activist and were beating the guy.
Well--I haven't followed up yet. Was sort of thinking of heading north at the time. Things are different in the mornings. I was a bit tired out yesterday [Friday] and laid around in various spots where I found shade: where I woke, until sun was higher, reading papers I'd collected; by the rock wall of the overlook on Chualtepec (sp?) hill, listening to a probably professional drummer practicing in one of the large, interestingly-architectured houses nearby; and in the oasis of shade and mellowly great public space at Parque de Revolución--a ways off the main tourist street. Cruise ship patrons were running through the latter, the town bimbos trying to catch the (generally American, somewhat frat-ish) cruise ship bimbos.
In el Parque, practicing sitting on a bench, sort of felt like a Quaker meeting. Eventually settled down and just sat. Eventually got to reading more Calvino--this time a Spanish translation, his Cuentos Fantasticos del Siglo XIX (something like that). At one point helped my benchmate move our bench a bit so he could be more in the shade. Eventually the little whiffs of exhaust I'd been getting got to be too much. Resolved to get food and make for the plaza near the harbor (better air) and head south for the evening. So now I'm on a hill south of town after having spent some time along the beach south of town [in the afternoon shade behind a deserted guard box/casa de vigilancia].
Some notes of things to look up sometime:
o a google search on "baja permaculture" -- I did this and . . . A site near TJ came up--
o http://trifund.org - united world of art, evironment, culture
o Augen Optics (has a fancy factory near where I spent night in Sauzal)
o Santorini ? Fancy blank façade--toughish males out front. & sanoviv(e) , while you're at it--the med school.
o Ongley Institute
o IWAHQ.org - publishes _Water_ a water industry mag.
o Titulos en español y en lenguas indigenas - www.culturaspopulareseindigenas.gob.mx / cnca.gob.mx
o council cudadano de atención al tourista - ccat
o Coleus (a genus of plant?)
o Comisión de Amor
o Frente Popular Revolución - pcmml.com
o junkraft.blogspot.com - ecomariner Joel Paschel
o solidnav.com / repower
o hospitalityclub.org (ensenada hosp. club)
o bajanews.info
o ensenadadentalgroup.com (a visit to dentist could be good, if they were)
o juventud con una misión (rehab?)
--
A lot of the wondering, when mind not blanked by rolling waves, waves hitting rocks, pelicans flying, surging water, sparkles, light, has been '. . . well, now what?'
Haven't been driven to head to that mountain--not yet, so far. Sort of feel I'm done wandering alone? So: wait around still more to try to meet some sailors who may need crew. Wait until redpillsailor is ready to leave--. Go to family farm and grow something(s). Go to monastery. Continue to hang out and do nothing/read ebooks/whatever. Go back to SoCal or US somewhere (along beach? or anywhere else--) get some sort of job [McDs?], make money, pay rent--, go work on some permaculture project-- , urban planning or library school/work--
have entertained and imagined out those possibilities and a few others. . .
The continuing themes: not wanting to commit to any significant ?? (such as becoming a buddhist, such as making the effort to visit the permaculture site, such as asking anyone for anything [let me crew, let me have this job], such as . . .)
Lest you think it's too idyllic out here--always seems to be at least one spry mosquito out on these hills. And I haven't sewn Ray's anti-mosquito gear, and not until tonight has it really been cool enough to stay covered with quilt.
Peace,
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