A return to the West! Hooray!

by Jessica Barnthouse
I had spent several days mainly laying still reading prior to this photo--_Little Women_ was one of the texts. _The Mastery of Love_ another. In other words I really needed exercise and was not feeling too chipper. Did my best to smile with eyes still recovering from looking near. Grateful to encounter two friendly, interesting cyclists after days alone. It's 12/21. I go on to scoot out of the way ~5 miles to see if the EO Wilson Biophilia center is open. No. Later in the day Erni turns his van around to wait for me, and I accept his offer of a ride.

It is time for an update. There is far too much to write. I had the goal of writing what I might write here in my Molskine journal book first (I have both small and large sizes) and then typing it in.

Here, though, is my current situation: I'm in the computer room of the Kroc Center in San Diego, having just joined for $35 or so per month. I may be here through March 4th. The Molskine I began to write in is not here.

It took me a while to settle into deciding to make that month commitment.

Yes there is too much to write and not really any hope of covering it all or making sense of the past. . .

Yet Magic is one theme. Looking back at previous posts you will notice I had a goal of avoiding thinking less--you can see that in that post from the library at Mobile, AL.

My first discovery in which "the trip gives me what I need" was Ernest Dimnet's _The Art of Thinking_ (1928) which I believe should be freely available on the internet and in the public domain. . . This was a wonderful thrift store find and continues to influence how I live. The following was a rush to read the first time:

There is in every man a feeling of enmity to things whether they happen or only exist. We hate the crowded, confused lumber-room where no motion is free, we want to push rubbish out of our sight and reduce objects to a minimum as the Carthusian does in his white cell with just a plain black cross on the wall. The notion of a vacuum is repellent to us, but let enough appear round us and above us to create the idea of a shelter and we breathe freely and happily. We "find ourselves" as the phrase goes, our poor, neglected self, dearest of friends, yet dragged along everywhere like an ill-treated dog, hardly every spoken to or taken notice of, going where it listeth not, till at last the unnaturalness of it all appears, and, for a few hours, we live instead of just being alive. (_The Art of Thinking_, Ernest Dimnet, p. 92, 1961/1928)

I felt, in reading Dimnet, I found someone who understands how I am, how I feel, how I wish to be.

Another significant discovery was _The Last American Man_ by Elizabeth Gilbert. And _The Education of Little Tree_. _LAM_ is epic/tragic/ an OEdipus Rex that is still happening as I write now. . . I've explained why in person several times. . . not sure I shall try again here.

Another find was: Jim McCormick, a life coach who does not use computers-- only the phone, with no texting-- who invited me to stay (I did not) and recommended I read _As Man Thinketh_ by James Allen. The copy I got included _From Poverty to Power_.

Jim addressed my concern with my avoiding of thinking directly in these recommendations. . .

I also met one super fast through hiker and was following the footsteps of another. These gave me much to think about / follow up later.

Where does that leave me now? I have a few ideas.

Let me explain the recent "Magic":

1. Jim invites me back and tells me about the book when I get around to calling him.
2. Considering his invitation helps me realize I've had it with Florida and wish to be back where much of the family is converging (San Diego). I get a Southwest ticket for $184 (which lets me take two bags free--that gets my scooter with me easy).
3. I do my WFR recert and catch my flight. . . with experiences & encounters along the way yet unwritten. And scoot from the SD airport to my Point Loma grandparents' house (30 min).
4. I mail a letter to Leslie, who I've been writing every so often this year, and who once camped with me in the mountains of Santa Barbara. Without reading the inside of the letter she gets in touch so we can meet. We meet (while babysitting my niece Asa) and later tentatively plan to camp out east of SD over two days or so in the future.
5. The idea of camping out / hiking to the east starts to seem to me to be a bad one. Do I even want to be with people in that way any more? Do I even want to be out there any more? Lots of doubt about lots of things.
6. A memory of the Sea to Sea trail comes to me. That at least would be a newer location for me. I email my friend telling her about this idea early in the morning on a computer (my dad's) I did not plan on starting to use. (and why did I feel compelled to tell her by email at 2 in the morning. . . no quick answer but it seemed important that I do it then). I did not plan on starting to use computers again outside of libraries. . . I was doing pretty well with that and enjoying avoiding computers. I had learned to use his computer while getting instructions for tying and making my "invisible shoes" huaraches (if you order them after following that link, I get a commission! You will not be sorry once you take the time to make them and figure out how to tie them.), which I've been wearing and loving ever since. . .
7. At 02:30 that morning, I discover that WYP.org has an adult sit spot and solos program coming up-- exactly the thing I'm interested  (or once said I was and believe I still am interested) in making happen for others-- Perhaps I should get out of SD and go.
8. I get to thinking more about the Sea to Sea trail route and how I and another might get there and get out. . .
9. I think about getting another Razor A5 for my friend to ride. Which I have money for because my Grandma Ann who died on 12/30 gave me a bit. And which I'm pretty sure I could sell to someone. . .

And I'll not mention the following ideas here because it will be better to write about them after they are realized. If they are.

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Let me conclude this somewhat thoughtless blog post by saying:

I'm glad to back in CA. I'm glad to be staying in one spot with a swimming pool and more resources and friends and family for at least one month (as I got to do for about 5 days in Gainesville, FL with my aunt and uncle and dogs Nugget and Max). I'm glad to not be wandering any more and living outside and I'm not sure how much I'll continue to wander as I have been.

I've made many good discoveries. I've continued to be challenged and uncertain at times by life and the same issues as before. I have not lapsed as much into unthinking habit as I used to though. This may be progress.

"Magic" / Life seems to be taking me somewhere--

My goals for being in SD:

1. Possible Lifeguard Recert March 2, 3, 4 at the Kroc Center.
2. Avoid using computers. Write in my molskine and write letters and post cards more.
3. See my mom, other sister and nephew when they arrive.
4. Do something with the scooter.
5. Wear these huaraches (if you order them after following that link, I get a commission!) which are helping my feet feel very good (this is significant. . . as anyone who has walked across a state as big as Arizona before. . . (Shay) can tell you). I could explain why they are better than other barefoot shoes right now, but I will save it.
6. Take care of my body, exercising it in ways I haven't been: swimming, playground bars, and sleeping and doing everything else with awareness of posture, spine alignment-- how what I'm doing feels and can I make it feel good and restorative. . . see egwellness.com if you haven't.
7. Help clean up Grandma Ann's house so it can be sold.

Other goals?

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One way I've been helped to not be as unthinking:

The paper is not delivered to where I'm staying. I don't distract myself with it. I have begun to scheme how I could get a copy of The New Yorker or The Sun Magazine, but I have enough to work with.

Another way:

I began to keep a media journal (as some people keep food journals) making a note of/about every bit of media I picked up to read. . . 

No mindless reading, in other words. I've kept to that for the most part. Mainly because I've had more than enough to think about and have not felt like reading.

I briefly made a resolution to plan for my own death: how I'd be disposed of, where, and so on. Seems I may not follow through. . . At the time I didn't have interesting plans and thought I'd start taking responsibility for my life by working backwards. . . after talking with my dad about how Grandma Ann died and seeing how my mom's dad is likely to go. . . And believing I'd like to be buried and rot without preservatives (accomplishing that these days can be challenging, especially if you do not die near where you wish to be buried). Disposal by buzzards (a native american way & mentioned in _Last American Man_) is also intriguing. And what will I do when other people in my family die? What should our family do? Some sort of doing something other than nothing with the dead was once considered a sign that humans had culture where animals did not?

And I cannot let it lie I guess: my oddness with food continues to be a part of how I live. I'll just mention that. . . It's a complex thread to follow I think, and I plan to stick with watching media use for now and thinking vs unthinking and considering what true wealth is--according to James Allen:

Your true wealth is your stock of virtue, and your true power the uses to which you put it. Rectify your heart, and you will rectify your life. Lust, hatred, anger, vanity, pride, covetousness, self-indulgence, self-seeking, obstinacy,- all these are poverty and weakness; whereas love, purity, gentleness, meekness, compassion, generosity, self-forgetfulness, and self-renunciation,- all these are wealth and power. (_From Poverty to Power_)

Also, there were a lot of bugs in Florida. And it got warmer at night than I was expecting. I need to have a bug tent with a floor if I go back again. I got bitten a lot by ticks and probably chiggers, though I'm still not sure what a chigger is.

There is also a Planned Parenthood a short walk from where I now stay, making it convenient, I think, to do something encouraged at this web site that is blocked on the computers here. Those were chigger bites or some other kind of bug bite I am sure, slow to heal in the moist conditions of the warm, humid unwashed Florida nights, but even so, I'll follow Shay's example and see what, if anything, I might have picked up over the years. Especially before further steps along this path. Yeah, and I had that split in the left side of my mouth that took a while to go. (used/using coconut oil) . . and you may remember how worn out I was when I arrived in TN on 9/12.

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The j9k.org domain now is no longer a web forward--

I wanted my solos page to look a little better. Solos.j9k.org or j9k.org/solos. There should be an ad in communities magazine about that.

What I'm here to do with people continues to be a bit of a mystery-- especially with my preference for often being alone. I have had fun re-meeting Jonathan, Andy, Laurie, Leslie, my relatives (and it is fun to have new ones), and now the people I knew from the pool, 

• Melissa Regas. . . Sketches of a DisABLED Princess
• Andy Schell _Flying Camels and Tiger Mothers_, _My Best Man_ and Jonathan Louie Design
• Laurie Kramer (maker of pottery and ceramic birdhouses and fun and my oldest friend here)

There will be others. Eric Shanower could show up. Foolish to add that link?

And the many others who do not have web pages. Heather, Tim, Andrea, Charles. The homeless guy Jimmy or Johnny who called out "Nature Man!" as I was walking away. . . "You know I'm talking to you!" "You used to sit under trees and eat nature food. . ." (figs)

Buddha-For-You moved to the shopping center right next to Grandma Ann's old house and David Viafora teaches classes there. http://buddha-for-you.com/classes/

You can still get a free week trial at the SDSU arc, and there's an abandoned corner on campus where Muslim students go to pray, near which I took a nap last Thursday.

Sweet potatos I hurridly planted in poor soil during a short visit last spring at Laurie's old apartment grew very well. The beets & chard in the back of 4602 seminole still keep coming up in spite of others and now my Dad's best efforts to get Lawns not Food to grow there.

There are great and growing farmers markets here. And this nearby: Lisko Deli & Fish Market -.

(I use the scooter to glide through this urban environment I mainly walked in for many years. . . )

What goals do I have for the future? What is my ideal day? Are these questions I can ask, or is it better to do what I feel compelled to do, to try to be still and listening to the present. . . and acting, making what might be mistakes, what might be life. What might be.

And partly since Leslie's letters, her continuing to write back, I've been more likely to feel love (from her example: she writes what I used to take to be love letters. For her they're just letters. And they are a love letter.). And due to all the acceptance (or something. . . I'm not sure what-- something that is a bit more than tolerance for what I'm doing?) I get from my relatives. . . I've been more likely to feel love.

I've met and keep meeting great people. And? This is written for you. I'm not just by myself right now-- not just seeking space to sense where my thoughts might go-- I am, as in writing a letter, sharing a bit of time with others now? It may be another year or more or never before I write again? Next, would I write less and more and actually write on paper before writing here? You don't need all this text and more links. . . you need more time to sense what's being asked of you?

Best wishes and blessings and love.

Vice Chief Cedar Bear and Chief Bear Heart of the Perdido Bay Tribe, east of Pensacola, on December 8, 2011