LIFE.....on the road (stories 1-25)

Life #24.....TYBEE ISLAND SEND OFF - SAVANNAH WELCOME.....Savannah, Georgia.....5/11/04

    When I wrote about the following in my journal, I ended with: "When a day like this is so good, it's worth writing a story about, and I probably will." So here's that story:
    The 17 miles from Savannah to Tybee Island seemed longer. Highway 80 passed over bridges, waterways, marshes, and vast wetlands. The main route through Tybee Island boasted the usual vacation rentals but avoided the fast-food chains, T-shirt vendors, and souvenier shops that have landed Key West on the list of America's ugliest tourist destinations. It has a small-town feel, and I relished the open space -- water everywhere.
    I spent three days on Tybee Island. Each morning, I hopped on my bike to see some of the island. The mornings were sunny -- and shorts weather -- still cool before the heat of the day hit. The island is flat and great for bike riding. One morning after a great breakfast at The Breakfast Club on Butler Street, I walked a long block to a wooden footbridge that led to the ocean. I'm always curious to see how the ocean and beaches vary in different places. The white sand continued from Key West through St. Augustine, Florida then turned golden, while the waves increased as I moved north. I walked to the end of the long pier and through the large pavilion before biking back to my camper. The temperature was in the 90s -- difficult to get through my YMCA aerobics class at 6:00 p.m. Heat in the 90s was forecast for the week; so I planned to go back to Savannah the next morning.
    It was my last day on the island. Before leaving, I rode my bike to Tybee Treats, a bakery which had been recommended to me yesterday. Everything was baked from scratch by Sue, the owner, who is just as sweet as her pastries. I chose a cheese Danish, still warm from the oven. I was the only one there so early in the morning, and Sue and I had a chance to chat. Later, Sue's friend Tim came in, and we started talking about foeign travel. Tim speaks Spanish and loves to travel. He offered me his services as a guide when I decide to do foreign travel. As I was getting ready to leave, Sue handed me a paper sack with one of the cinnamon rolls which I admired but weren't in the pastry case when I ordered. "For the road," she said. I was very touched by her thoughtful gesture, and it added to fond memories of this small town.
    I got back to Savannah in time for the 10:00 a.m. aerobics class at the YMCA. I happened to be in the exercise room when the Tai Chi class started. I was first attracted to the music and then to the instructor. She was Korean and had an accent; so I thought she might be the "real thing." The slow movements were fascinating to watch, and I will probably stay in town over the weekend so I can attend this class on Monday. I had taken one session of Tai Chi while living in Seattle and wasn't thrilled with it. That just goes to show that Tai Chi (like yoga) depends on the teacher and the method. I learned this lesson with cities and wrote a story called "Giving Cities a Chance." In essence it said: Don't make up your mind too quickly. I think that applies to many things -- certainly Tai Chi which I now love, and I plan to look into classes as I travel.
    The day continued to bestow blessings. After class I took a leisurely shower and pampered myself by enjoying the whirlpool spa. There is one in the women's dressing room at the Y; so I didn't have to wear a bathing suit. In my travels, I have experienced many hot springs where bathing suits were optional. YMCAs seldom have whirlpools, and if they do, they are usually co-ed; so it's a real treat to find one exclusive to women.
    I stopped on my way out to tell the Director what a nice Y this was and to comment on the wonderful Tai Chi class. As I approached my truck, I heard a voice behind me. The Director was running after me, bringing me a YMCA cap "to add to my collection." He had noticed the YMCA T-shirt I was wearing which had been given to me at a YMCA in Canada.
    As I said in my journal: When a day like this is so good, it's worth writing a story about, and I probably will.

Life #23.....HOMELESS FOR 20 MINUTES....Key West, Florida.....3/20/04 (Revised 6/2/04) (Published in Solares Hill, Key West, Florida 4/9/04 and in The Desert Messenger in Quartzsite, Arizona 5/16/06.)

    I got the idea for this story in February. Now, more than a month later, it is still a difficult story to write, not only because the subject of homelessness is depressing and discouraging, but because there are so many facets to this story. It is hard to know where to begin.
    I am visiting Key West in my small camper, and all this began with needing a shower. For a long time, I thought I had only one choice: the cold showers at the community center. That led to a longgggg time between showers. Then through the grapevine at Higgs Beach, I learned about free showers with clean towels offered in partnership by the Salvation Army, FKOC (Florida Keys Outreach Coalition), and the City of Key West. I decided to try it. I parked my car and approached the trailer which held 12 separate showers -- six for women and six for men. It was a busy day there. Various people, mostly men, were sitting on the curb. It was a heavy experience for me, and I felt very uneasy. I wanted to explain that I wasn't REALLY homeless -- just traveling in an RV. That's when the story title came to me: "Homeless for 20 Minutes." For the first time in my life, I actually felt homeless.
    I was pleasantly surprised by the friendly, nonjudgemental greeting; the clean towels and washcloths; and the supply of soap, shampoo, razors, Q-tips, etc. The showers were well lit and clean -- pleasant actually. I happened to arrive at the showers on the day there was a homeless survey. I filled out the form. Some of the questions were:

What is your first name and last initial? (Note: Last names are never used in this type of situation.)
Do you have a regular place to stay right now?
Do you have any source of income?
Do you have a disabling condition?
Have you ever been arrested because you had nowhere to stay?
Do you have any family members living with you? (If yes, describe.)
Where have you slept for the last few nights? (street, mangroves, boat, under bridge, beach, park, other)
Please put a check in all boxes where the answer is yes:
During the past year have you used this service? Have you needed this service? (emergency shelter, housing for homeless persons, education/job training, health care, alcohol/drug treatment, mental health treatment, showers/bathroom facilities, mailing address/telephone, food pantry/soup kitchen)

    It brought tears to my eyes to think that people in this wealthy country have to live this way. We are a country divided into the HAVES and the HAVE NOTS, and it's getting worse all the time. The U.S. squanders money on pork barrel politics, war, and outer space while the homeless, affordable health care, and education suffer. For God's sake, where are our priorities?
    Anna Quindlen, one of my favorite writers, in her book Thinking Out Loud speaks about homelessness:
    "Once again, we’ve wasted time and money by dealing with the homeless backward. Too much energy has gone into deciding where we do not want them to be, and making sure that they would not be there."
    "....no one has made any connection between the crazed consumerism of our kids and their elders’ cold unconcern toward others. Maybe the homeless are not the only ones who need to spend time in these places" [shelters].
    And speaking of rampant consumerism, are you living on a NEED level (like the Peace Pilgrim who traveled the country with only what she carried in her pockets) or a WANT level? Please consider what living on a NEED level means and the many ways it would benefit the world.
    My friend "Bob at the Beach" said to me one day: "Have you ever thought that the only difference between us and the people living in the mangroves is a piece of metal?" (By "metal" he meant a car or other vehicle.) Now that's a shocker. No, I'd never thought about it, but I'll tell you; I feel very insecure when I pass by the mangroves. Poor people are desperate people. How far would you go if you were starving? Bob's statement got me to thinking about the different levels of homelessness. I decided to write a story "The Many Levels of Homelessness," but I haven't written it yet. The lowest level, I suppose, is the people in the mangroves. Next would be the people with some form of transportation who move around. I'll have to admit that I'm in the next level: the people who don't have homes (but could) and travel by choice. The next level would be the snow birds: people who have homes but follow the weather (Bob's category.)
    On a lighter note, I met a woman who told me about a friend of hers who had to live in the mangroves for a while. His parting words were always, "Well, I'm off to the shruburbs."
    There is a real dichotomy in Key West. The Salvation Army and FKOC are doing everything they can to help the homeless (and I am naming them as beneficiaries in my Will). Besides the free showers, St. Mary's Church Soup Kitchen offers free meals, and there are safe houses operated by FKOC and Catholic Charities. On the other hand, it seems that the City is doing everything it can to get rid of the homeless, with the support of many residents. There were a reported 40 homeless camps in the mangroves, and recently the city evicted all of them. The City is now preparing to evict the homeless out of other areas. And there's a trickle-down effect for responsible travelers like me (homeless or not) who are dedicated to leaving a place better than they found it. One night as I parked my camper, a woman yelled at me, "You can't sleep overnight here." I don't really blame her. Obviously she has had a bad experience, but that doesn't mean all homeless should be condemned. That would be like condemning all CEOs of big corporations.
    One thing I notice about homeless people is they are usually missing teeth. I am having about $2,000 worth of dental work done in Key West. Who has that kind of money? Certainly not the homeless. They simply can't afford dental care, even check-ups. And guess what? If people don't have teeth, they can't eat healthy things like apples and carrots, and their health deteriorates. Their health deteriorates, and they can't work. They can't work so they can't afford housing. You get the picture. Thus begins a vicious cycle. Have you ever heard someone say, "The only difference between the homeless and me is my next paycheck."
    I saw the movie "Monster," the film about a woman serial killer, for which Charlize Theron won the academy award for best actress. It stayed with me for weeks. Surprisingly, I didn't come away from the film hating her. She was abused since the day she was born; she didn't have a chance for anywhere near a "normal" life. How could she be anything but what she was?
    Recently I discovered why I hadn't started writing this story until now. I had a dream or a vision (or something) a day or two ago: Right at the entrance to Key West where Highway 1 goes right and Highway 1A goes left, there was a huge gate that went right across the highway. There were men at the gate, checking each car, and determining whether the car could enter or not. I was an observer in this dream (nightmare?); so I don't know what questions were asked to determine entrance. But I have a pretty good idea; don't you? It has to do with whether you can afford a home in Key West; I read the average price is $600,000, but a mortgage broker I met says it's much higher than that. In other words, like so many other things in our society, entrance to Key West was based on the bottom line.
    The homeless are a major topic of discussion in Key West. More and more this seems to be a city of the rich. The most common bumper sticker in Key West is "One Human Family," but I wonder, does that include the homeless?

Proud to be an American? Sometimes.....

    Tim Cox, Field Outreach for FKOC (Florida Keys Outreach Coalition for the Homeless), conservatively estimates that the homeless in Key West are made up of 50% alcoholic, 40% mentally ill, 40% drug problem, and 15% physically ill. He thinks about 30% of the homeless could be working but are not making an effort.

According to (http://www.mungos.org/facts/needs.shtml):

"When rough (homeless) sleepers were asked what the trigger was for them first becoming homeless, the most common reasons given were:

relationship breakdown=39%
heavy drinking=21%
losing job=18%
having no money to pay for housing=13%

38% have an alcohol need
64% have a drugs need
36% have a mental health need
35% have a physical health need"

And this from Maine (http://www.mainecouncilofchurches.org/homeless.html):

    "There are presently almost a million Americans who are homeless every day of the year.
    There are approx. 1,000 homeless persons every night in Maine. About 600 sleep in shelters for the homeless...the others with family, friends or on the street.
    About 98% of the homeless live on resources that are below the poverty level.
    More than half of the homeless suffer serious, long-term mental health problems, another 25% have periodic mental health problems.
    One out of five homeless persons has a medical problem, about half a substance abuse problem.
    On an average night, close to 30% of the residents in shelters are under 18.
    The number of homeless adults and children in shelters has increased regularly during the past five years, a period of economic prosperity."

Usually I have only one quote at the end of each story, but I couldn't stop at just one this time:

The life of the individual only has meaning insofar as it aids in making the life of every living thing nobler and more beautiful. Life is sacred, that is to say, it is the supreme value to which all other values are subordinate....Albert Einstein

The poverty of our century is unlike that of any other. It is not, as poverty was before, the result of natural scarcity, but of a set of priorities imposed upon the rest of the world by the rich. Consequently, the modern poor are not pitied ... but written off as trash. The twentieth-century consumer economy has produced the first culture for which a beggar is a reminder of nothing....John Berger (b. 1926), author

Poor America, of what avail is all her wealth, if the individuals comprising the nation are wretchedly poor? If they live in squalor, in filth, in crime, with hope and joy gone, a homeless, soilless army of human prey....Emma Goldman (1869–1940), author

> Life #20.....SOMEONE SAID, "IF LIFE GIVES YOU LEMONS, MAKE LEMONADE".....Alamosa, Colorado.....10/15/03

    I knew I was in trouble when I woke up to find ice on the INSIDE of my camper windows. Even though I don't have heat in my camper, I never get cold for some strange reason I don't understand. If it's really cold, I wear a stocking cap to bed and socks, along with my flannel night gown, and I may double the comforter I pull over me. Sometimes, I turn on my propane stove for about five minutes before getting into bed. (Yes, I know about the danger; so I make sure I stand up as long as it's on.) That seems to take the chill off.
    Another bad sign was my bike. Locked to the clothesline in my friend's yard, it had icecicles on it. Then I slipped on some ice and fell down. Was it any surpirse to find my car wouldn't start? Nope. Okay, what to do? I sure didn't want to wait for AAA to come. I was freezing, and sometimes AAA takes an hour or so to arrive. So, I decided to put on my backpack and my walking shoes and walk to the college where I could write for a while. Why not walk along the river? I thought. I could call AAA later in the day when it's much warmer.
    This is where the "If life gives you lemons, make lemonade" part comes in. Even though bitterly cold at 7:00 a.m., it was a sunny, blue-sky kind of day. I bundled up with stocking cap, muffler, and gloves and started out along the river -- from Cole Park to the college. I'd walked it many times, usually at sunset. It was less than two miles one way. I LOVED IT! I realized just how special it was when I saw a blue heron standing in the shallow Rio Grande River. I watched it for a while, both of us motionless.
    As I continued walking, I decided to take the parallel path about 15 feet away from the river. This is the dirt path that, after a ways, is covered by a canopy of trees. The trees that were lush with golden leaves just a few days ago were now bare or had just a few leaves hanging on for dear life, after the strong winds of yesterday. Still, it was glorious because no matter what the season, there is the quiet, the serenity, and the beauty of nature.
    As I approached the college, there were patches of ice on the sidewalk which I carefully avoided because of this morning's fall. Stepping on the grass, I noticed it had a definite crunch -- frozen!
    The walk back was just as rewarding. First, I picked up some lunch to eat on the way. I meandered through neighborhoods until I came to a path through the woods which led to the trail along the river. Right at the beginning of the path were five dear. (No, that's not a misspelling! It's just how I think of them: dear deer.) I made a mental note of where they were; so I can leave my table scraps for them on my nightly walk. I continued along the path, enjoying this new route immensely. I soon reached the river trail. Amazingly, in the distance, I caught sight of the blue heron I saw earlier in the day, taking off. Its graceful flight and wing span something to behold.
    So what was different about this morning? Well, because of the cold, I usually drive to the college and run errands on the way. This morning was much more satisfactory. Walking along the Rio Grande made my spirit soar! So what if I spent the rest of the day with AAA and getting a new battery installed? The two-way walk along the river more than made up for it. When something happens like a car not starting, I always think three things: 1) it's all relative -- just a small blip in the big scheme of things, 2) I have such a good life my number is bound to come up sooner or later, and 3) it can always be worse. As I get older, I don't let things like cars not starting bother me. I just deal with them -- another beauty of age. And you know, nothing is EVER as bad if I can get a story out of it!

Life #19.....A TRAVELER'S FABLE.....Alamosa, Colorado.....8/24/03

    As the story goes, a farmer working in his field saw a man walking down the road toward him. When the man was near, he said he was heading to the next town and asked the farmer what it was like. The farmer replied, "What was the last town you lived in like?" The man replied that it was terrible, the people were very unfriendly, there was no work to be had, and he was glad to get out of there. The farmer said, "Well, I think you'll find the next town the same."
    Next day, the farmer was again working in his field when a stranger approached. He, too, asked the farmer what the next town was like. The farmer asked him the same question he had asked the previous traveler, "What was the last town you lived in like?" The man replied that it was a wonderful place, the people were very friendly, he had a good job, and he hated to leave there. "Well, said the farmer, "I think you'll find the next town the same way."

Life #16.....MOTHER NATURE'S GIFTS FOR TODAY.....Parker, Arizona.....3/27/003

    I opened my camper door to bright sunlight, a view of the Colorado River, and the distant mountains. After writing in my journal, it was warm enough to put on shorts, grab the things I use in my daily "practice," and head for the river to stretch and meditate. I walked down the winding, paved path that led to the river bank. I sat for a few minutes beside the blue-green river with its backdrop of scenic mountains: tan rushes along the shore; then green, rolling hills followed by slightly higher, chocolate brown foothills; and in the distance tall, gray-green, sculptured mountains complete with tall spires, peaks, and valleys. Lovely! To be here is to know contentment.
    I walked to the large green, grassy area in front of the outdoor amphitheater to a shady spot under a row of trees. I did my stretching, and particularly enjoyed the part where I lay on my back, looking through graceful leaves at a cloudless, blue sky. My "practice" begins by sitting cross-legged on my pad. I tap a small, brass bowl and listen to the waves of sound that signal the beginning of my practice. Next I do eye exercises; with my eyes closed, I circle my eyes in one direction ten times and then reverse. I follow this with spiritual/inspirational reading. Having completed the Peace Pilgrim's "Steps to Inner Peace," I am now reading the longer book about her life. Then I do some chanting and toning until I feel myself somewhat removed from the world and calm enough to focus during meditation. Next I do a bit of deep breathing until I feel I am ready to meditate. I close my eyes and focus on a clear blue sky inside my mind. When thoughts occur, I think of them as puffy white clouds and gently nudge them out of the picture. Then I focus on a white light in the middle of my forehead. When I feel I have meditated enough, I tap the brass bowl again to signal the end of my practice.

    Today life has given me a special gift. I see something moving very fast and realize there is a hummingbird darting irraticly among the branches. It's the second one I've seen lately. Recently, in Patria Park there was a hummingbird flying along the shore from plant to bush to tree, hardly pausing in its flight, such fascinating creatures. I never think they're hummingbirds at first, but rather very large, flying insects. Therefore, I am always pleasantly surprised to discover it is actually a hummingbird. (So named I think because of the humming sound their fast-moving wings make.)

    The desert cacti are in bloom! I saw one this morning along the casino drive with more than ten blossoms. The dark red buds are at least seven inches long, turning into huge, white blooms at least eight inches across. The blooms tend toward the palest of greens with the outer row of petals tinged red from the bud. Hard to capture their beauty in mere words. I stop and look at this cactus every time I drive by. The flowers don't last long, disappearing almost as quickly as they bloom, a matter of a day or so. Surprisingly, the flowers have a very strong, sweet scent reminiscent of a Hawaiian lei.
    There is a cactus garden at the entrance of Buckskin State Park. Many of the cacti are in bloom. The beavertail and hedgehog cacti have large, magenta flowers with buds promising many more to come. The cholla are covered with yellow-orange blooms. My favorite is the teddy bear cholla with subtle flowers of a heavenly, pale green which blend in with the plant. Now, a few days later, the cacti are blooming as before, but the prickly pear cacti has many, many more large, bright, magenta blooms -- the biggest blooms of all the cacti in the garden. One cactus I especially like has dark, pink buds opening to peachy-yellow flowers tinged with pink outer leaves. Lovely!

    There are many beautiful places in this country, but I think Arizona has the most diversity -- from the pine trees, high altitude, and The Grand Canyon in the north to Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument in the Sonoran Desert in the south. Sometimes I think the whole state of Arizona should be designated as a National Park!

Life #15.....SOCK IT TO ME.....Parker, Arizona.....3/27/03

    If the title sounds familiar, it dates you, and if you actually saw the TV show "Laugh-In," you must be really old!

    It occurs to me that a lot has happened to me in the last several weeks that needed fixing. Life has just been sockin' it to me one thing after another. Just as soon as I get one thing fixed, another thing happens. Let's see:

    In Quartzsite: ran out of propane as I just started cooking dinner so had to figure out a place to cook it, ordered a new propane tank the next day with the required OPD safety valve, picked up the tank the next day and took it to be installed and filled.
    In Yuma: three dental surgeries in one day, a tire blow-out the same night and waiting for AAA, bought four new tires the next day.
    In El Golfo, Mexico: had to buy Mexican insurance in a torrential rainstorm where nobody spoke English and/or knew where to buy insurance, forded two streams to get to the RV Park.
    Back in Yuma, figured out how to fix my camper door which was coming off the hinges, my icebox clogged up and filled with water so I had to clear the drain from both the inside and the outside with a long piece of thick wire I bought earlier for just that purpose (you can't always count on long, thin sticks in the desert), my stove quit working (nothing serious, just a loose connection), washed and waxed my car which was covered with mud from El Golfo.
    In Puerto Penasco, Mexico: my roof vent was stuck in the open position (another chance to work on my left-brain persona). After unscrewing what I could unscrew from the inside and squirting Lock-Ease through the screen above my head, it worked! There is nothing so pleasing to a right-brain person as completing a left-brain job successfully. However, this was nothing compared to getting stuck in the sand and having my window screen cut and my TV stolen.
    In Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument: my solar system stopped working.
    Back in Yuma, my 3,000 lube and oil was due, had my radiator flushed at a different place, went four places before I found a black & white TV to replace the one stolen in Mexico, went to three places and called three others to see if they could replace my camper window screen which was cut in Mexico (they couldn't; so it looks like velcro or duct tape), bought extra 30-watt batteries in case my solar system goes out again in the middle of nowhere.
    It's all working fine now -- and has been for a matter of hours -- days even. I was frankly amazed when I wrote the above list. It's seems like a lot, but at the time, it just seemed like one thing needed fixin'. The trick is taking care of things when they happen so they don't add up. Each time I take care of something, it makes me just that much stronger and more capable. Sooooo, sock it to me life; I can handle it!

Life #14.....I KEEP GETTING THESE MESSAGES.....El Golfo, Mexico.....2/28/03 (Rev. 3/7/03)

    Three times within a week life presented me with the same message. What's interesting about the message is: I ALREADY GET IT! In fact, I got it longgggg ago. So my question is, "Why am I getting this same message repeatedly when it's one of the guiding principles of my life?"
    The first time I got the message it was in a tape by Eckert Tolle. Last fall a friend gave me Tolle's tapes called "The Power of Now." Then while I was at the Peace Pilgrim Center in the fall, a man asked me if I had ever heard of Eckert Tolle. I had time at the beach in El Golfo to listen to the tapes. Basically, they are about the path to enlightenment, and of course a major part of enlightenment is living in the NOW. Here is what I remember about what Eckert said: 1) Living in the NOW means being fully present in the moment. It means turning off the mind to the past and the future -- not easy to do. 2) The second prerequisite is great appreciation and gratitude for what life has to offer. (I speak about this in "Spirituality vs. Religion" on this Life link, Story #12.) Eckert Tolle explains this nebulous topic better than anyone I've ever heard. (If you get the tapes, stick with it through his German accent and detailed explanation.)
    After writing the above, I found the notes from my journal: "Eckert Tolle stresses living in the NOW, what I call "living 100%." He says the mind robs us of the NOW because it concentrates on the past and the future, and it is never still. That is why meditation is so important; it stills the mind. Secondly, he stresses appreciating, being thankful for, and being grateful for what we have right NOW -- not living the regrets of the past or longing for something better in the future. Both of those take us away from living right NOW. All of these things take us along the path to enlightenment. It involves watching what is going on in our minds but not being controlled by it (the ego) and not letting it use up the NOW. After all, the NOW is all we have."
    I also had time to catch up on my reading while in El Golfo. The second message came from one of the articles I pulled randomly out of my reading box, which was one sent to me more than 15 years ago (GASP!) by a friend in New Mexico. It talks about a speech given by Sir William Osler at Yale University in 1913 entitled "A Way of Life." Osler was inspired by a quote from a book by Thomas Carlyle, an English essayist and historian (1795-1881) who said, "Our main business is not to see what lies dimly in the distance, but to do what lies clearly at hand." Osler credits that quote with shaping his future: "To do the day's work superbly well, planning for the future but not worrying about it, became the guiding principle of his life." Two other quotes from the article are: 1) "Live for the day only.....The chief worries of life arise from the foolish habit of looking before and after," and 2) "Live neither in the past nor in the future, but let each day's work absorb all your interest, energy, and enthusiasm. The best preparation for tomorrow is to do today's work superbly well." (Quotes are from Light from Many Lamps "Peace of Heart and Mind." That's all the information I have.)
    The third message came to me when I got back to Yuma. I was delighted that the movie "The Hours" was in town as I had been waiting to see it. Near the closing, Meryl Streep is sitting on the bed talking with her daughter. She says when she was young, she thought that happiness was just about to happen; she felt it was almost within reach. But you know what? She just kept waiting. Now, a death of someone very close makes her realize that happiness is right NOW. Why? Because all we have is right NOW, and the future is something that never happens; its always out there, somewhere, close or far. She realizes that if she doesn't live NOW, she won't live ever.
    So this is all very interesting to me because I believe so strongly in living in the NOW. For years I have said, "If we live this moment 100%, we will have a rich past and can be optimistic about the future." Read a book and eat at the same time? Never. Equally as important is appreciation for what I have this moment -- a genuine gratitude and thankfulness for all the gifts the world has to offer.
    So I repeat: Why am I getting the same message three times within the same week? You tell me.

Life #13.....LIVING OUR FANTASIES.....Yuma, Arizona.....Rev. 2/25/03

    A few nights ago I saw the movie "The Life of David Gale" staring Kevin Spacey (be still my heart!). If his name is on the marque, I see the movie. Yeah, I know, he's not really that good looking, but it's always a person's mind that attracts me most -- and integrity, of course. Those qualities are right up there with dancing. But I digress. This story is NOT about my admiration for Kevin Spacey. I will try to think of other things...
    This movie IS about the death penalty, and of course Kevin Spacey's character shared my views; we're both against it. What I wasn't prepared for in the movie was the scene that shows David Gale as a college professor, probably philosophy, lecturing his students. He said so much interesting stuff that I wish I'd brought something to write it down. He said SO much SO fast that I can't remember it all. I DO remember he said something really thought provoking about fantasies. He asked his students, "What are your fantasies: travel, a profession, a relationship, love? He said that the really wonderful thing about fantasies is that they are "never" attainable, and that's good because once a particular fantasy is attained, it disappears. The fantasy part is gone and so is a lot of the looking-forward-to-it phenomena. It's kind of the carrot and stick thing. The carrot is out there, and we're enjoying looking forward to enjoying it. It kind of keeps us going in that direction, but once we get it, it's over. Done....gone....caput! If the fantasy doesn't work out, we're left with nothing, except maybe conjuring up another fantasy. I think my fantasies are a lot like that -- much better in the fantasy stage than in reality, and I try to prepare myself to handle the disappointment (with Plans B and C). My major challenges in life are expectation and attachment. Being aware of those two things has made me more cautious, and I think I'm making good progress toward mastering them.
    I think my whole life is a lot like a fantasy. The journey is always the best part -- not the destination. Interesting to think about. It's just so damn wonderful to look forward to things, to live them in my mind. I wrote a short verse once: Expectation is so joyfully painful, so painfully sweet. Remember how you used to wish away the hours until the scheduled fantasy? I'm not sure it's any easier to wait even now that I am older. With my vivid imagination and zest for life, I realize that I may be setting myself up for disappointment. Knowing that, I go full steam ahead with my imaginings -- not to be denied. Sometimes I have a hard time keeping both feet on the ground -- Plans B and C at the ready.
    The other really profound thing David Gale said was: As we get older, habits replace dreams. Gasp! DON'T LET THAT HAPPEN TO YOU!

Life #12.....SPIRITUALITY VS. RELIGION.....Yuma, Arizona.....2/23/03 (Rev. 3/3/03)

    Maybe "vs." isn't the right term to use in the title because when I speak of spirituality and religion, it's not some sort of competition or battle. The definitions of the two might be grounds for debate, however, and within me these questions arise:

1. What is spirituality?
2. What is religion?
3. How are they different?
4. Can one exist without the other?
5. Can both exist in the same person?

    I'm a Unitarian, and I go to church "religiously" every Sunday. About Thursday I get on the internet to find out where the nearest Unitarian Church is. Sometimes that determines my next destination.
    Perhaps I should define what Unitarianism is or at least the way I see it. We are a small group with churches (have a minister) and fellowships (lay led) across the U.S. and throughout the world. We are relatively unknown by the majority of the population; so I am often asked, "What is a Unitarian?" I always reply: "I can best describe Unitarianism by this quote which appears often in Unitarian literature: 'Let your acts rather than your words declare your religion.'" I think that pretty much explains it.
    Unitarians are the most intelligent, educated, active, caring people I know. They are into EVERYTHING, especially causes. At the Unitarian Fellowship in Pagosa Springs, Colorado, my belief that I was definitely a Unitarian was confirmed because everywhere I went, the Unitarians were there. They volunteered at the breast cancer walk-a-thon, built a forest trail in memory of a member, and cleaned up the highway on a regular basis. And I met them at all the fun things too: the Gray Wolves hiking group, the exercise class, the outdoor club meeting, community events, the film society, and concerts.
    We Unitarians get very uncomfortable with religious words (e.g., God, prayer, heaven). We have no creed -- no beliefs -- no dogma. We have no spiritual leader, prefering instead to seek wisdom from all sources. We are a very diverse group and therein lies the appeal. At a Unitarian service one will find Jews, agnostics, atheists, visitors from other denominations, and maybe a Christian (though I've never met one there). When I am asked if I am a Christian, I reply, "I don't follow any one faith, but I do believe in the teachings of Jesus. I also like the compassion of Buddhism and the teaching of Islam "What I do to another, I do to myself." There is much wisdom in religion, and I prefer to listen to them all and choose what feels right for me."
    I've been thinking a lot about religion over the past few years. Religion is certainly a separating factor in our society; it plays its part in politics, health, wars, etc. I've mellowed a lot in my in my religious views. I have been thinking about the ultimate purpose of all religions. Isn't it to be good people, to help where we can, to not hurt anybody, to make the world a better place? Isn't the important thing the goal, not how we get there? So what does it matter what our specific relgion is? I now look at all religions as different paths to the same goal -- like the fingers of a hand, extending out into the world but all leading up the hand to the heart. And I am not only much more accepting of "religious" people, but I'm much more comfortable in myself.
    Yesterday during church the idea came to me that rather than thinking of God as a noun, I much prefer to think of GOD AS A VERB. What a concept! Thinking of God (or Buddha or Jesus or any other diety) NOT as a person but an ACTION -- doing good in the world at every opportunity. In my business, people often said to me, "I want a job where I can do good in the world." I replied, "Whatever job you are doing, you can do good in the world. Every moment of every day there is the opportunity to help the people around you -- to do what you can to make a person's life a little better. It can be as simple as letting someone ahead of you in traffic, complimenting a person, holding a door open, letting someone ahead of you in the grocery line, or showing your appreciation." To carry this one step further, one person cannot solve the problems of the world; so I think the very best thing we can do is to live by example, to always take the higher path rather than the lower. When you do that choices become easier, and actions become clear.

    Here is the responsive reading from the Unitarian Church service yesterday written by Vincent B. Silliman:

LET RELIGION BE TO US LIFE AND JOY.
Let it be a voice of renewing challenge to the best we have and may be; let it be a call to generous action.
LET RELIGION BE TO US A DISSATISFACTION WITH THINGS THAT ARE, WHICH BIDS US SERVE MORE EAGERLY THE TRUE AND RIGHT.
Let it be the sorrow that opens for us the way of sympathy, understanding, and service to suffering humanity.
LET RELIGION BE TO US THE WONDER AND LURE OF THAT WHICH IS ONLY PARTLY KNOWN AND UNDERSTOOD:
An eye that glories in nature's majesty and beauty, and a heart that rejoices in deeds of kindness and of courage.
LET RELIGION BE TO US SECURITY AND SERENITY BECAUSE OF ITS TRUTH AND BEAUTY, AND BECAUSE OF THE ENDURING WORTH AND POWER OF THE LOYALTIES WHICH IT ENGENDERS;
Let it be to us hope and purpose, and a discovering of opportunities to express our best through daily tasks:
RELIGION, UNITING US WITH ALL THAT IS ADMIRABLE IN HUMAN BEINGS EVERYWHERE;
Holding before our eyes a prospect of the better life for humankind, which each may help to make actual.

    As far as spirituality and religion go, I think of religion as an external thing and sprituality as internal. I consider myself spiritual rather than religious, although a favorite minister of mine tells me I am religious. He defines religion not as a set of beliefs but as the way a person relates to the world. Question #4 above: Can one exist without the other? First, can a person be spritual and not religious? That is how I think of myself. Secondly, can a person be religious and not spiritual? Definitely. Then, I have met many people who I consider to be neither religious or spiritual. And the final question: Can a person be both religious and spiritual? I think that is possible: to have the inside join with the outside. And I think I may have met one person like that, but I would need to spend more time with him. It is very hard for me to find people who I consider truly spiritual. Well, these are all questions to think about, and of course, it all depends on your definition of the words spirituality and religion.
    The questions I listed at the beginning are for you to ponder. To help, here are definitions of religion and spirituality:

religion:

1) Belief in and reverence for a supernatural power or powers regarded as creator and governor of the universe.
2)A personal or institutionalized system grounded in such belief and worship.
3)A set of beliefs, values, and practices based on the teachings of a spiritual leader.
4)A cause, principle, or activity pursued with zeal or conscientious devotion.

spirituality: A pleasure made for the soul

    I found the definitions of spirituality less satisfactory because they related mostly to religion, and the above was the only one acceptable to me. This only goes to show how individual a thing spirituality is and how difficult it is to define. I feel there are two prerequisites to becoming a spiritual person. The first is to live life 100%. That means being fully present in the moment. It means turning off the mind to the past and the future. Quieting the mind and focusing on the present moment to the exclusion of everything else prepares one for the second prerequisite: a great appreciation and reverence for life. If I try to define it for myself, spirituality is a feeling that comes from deep inside me and colors my approach to life. I feel my spirituality most often when something touches me deeply, leaves me speechless with awe, and touches my soul in appreciation of all the world has to offer. For me, spirituality has opened the door to wonder and bliss.

Life #11.....IT'S GOOD -- MOSTLY (A Story in Three Parts).....Yuma, Arizona.....2/18/03

STORY IN PROGRESS

    Like the title says: It's good -- mostly. But several things have happened to me in my three years of travel that I could have done without. They involve mice, a boat, and six dentists

    I had stopped in Santa Inez, California to see a family I became quite fond of in Seattle. The father had moved there with his wife and child to manage a lovely, private preserve in this beautiful area of California with its green rolling hills, open space, and wildlife. I had just parked in the small town of Santa Inez when I noticed a small face looking in my window. It was the people I had come to see! Surprise! They live quite a way out into the country but just happened to be in town that day. Good thing because when I followed them to the preserve; it was a long way and would be difficult to find on my own.
    A day or so later, I accompanied them on their errands to Santa Barbara. Before heading home, the woman suggested we stop at the art museum. Now normally, I would have jumped at the chance, but I just wasn't feeling up to it -- unusual for me. I was feeling unusually tired and had no energy. Later I realized that those were flu-like symptoms creeping up on me. The next day I was feeling really bad: I had a temperature, and my sinuses were screaming. (to be continued)

    Just before I left Seattle, I placed an angel on my dashboard. I'm not even sure now where it came from: the exchange table in my co-op apartment building? A yard sale? No matter. The angel is white, made of some hard material. I know it is an angel because of the two, small wings sprouting from its back. It has on a long coat and a large cap with a bill. I don't know if it is male or female. Maybe angels are neither. I'm pretty sure it's young in age -- maybe around eight or ten years. Since I'm not religious, I'm not sure what my relationship with that angel is or why I even put it there. I just followed my intuition and placed it on my dashboard on a whim. Why not?
    Now, that no-name angel doesn't prevent me from having to deal with the day-to-day tasks of living, like having my solar system stop working or a tire blow-out. I don't expect it to. In fact, it has very little to do with those kinds of things. Then, why is it there? Well, I need all the help I can get to make it through this life with a smile on my face. To be positive. To look forward to the next moment. The angel on my dashboard seems to embody that feeling. It kind of represents a trust in the universe. It says to me, "If you do your part, take care of business so to speak, the universe will support you. I'm just here to remind you of that." I like that angel, and I'm glad it travels with me: always quiet, undemanding, present. I have no expectations of it; it's just company on my journey.
    One day as I was leaving Reno, Nevada (for where I don't remember as this was the year I started this journey), I decided to take the loop drive around the city which I had wanted to take since I arrived. It maybe added an extra 10 to 20 minutes to my departure time. After that, I continued on the highway to my next destination. It was a two-lane road, and the winds were strong that day. After driving a short time, I noticed a RV coming toward me with a rowboat tied to the cab of the pick-up truck. As we got closer, I noticed that the boat was starting to wobble -- then more so -- then violently. Suddenly, when we were about 20 feet apart, the boat flew off the truck and headed directly toward me. I thought the boat was going to come crashing through my windshield. I thought I was going to die or at best be hospitalized with serious injuries. In short, I thought my journey was at an end -- maybe my life journey.
    In those situations which happen so unexpectedly and so quickly, one doesn't have time to think, much less react. I do remember swerving to the right before the boat hit. That's when this amazing thing happened. The boat hit my camper on the bumper, somersaulted over my windshield, hit my camper shell on the front, and bounced off. I was a little shaken, but completely unhurt. I couldn't believe it! In fact, there was very little damage to my truck and camper. My bumper had an indentation right at the license plate, my right side mirror was bent, and my camper shell had a shallow, two-foot long indentation. That was it. I drove to the side of the road, and got out. I was amazed at how I felt: surprisingly calm and THANKFUL! Yes, thankful. Thankful that I didn't suffer any injuries. Thankful that my RV sustained such slight damage. I always feel better when I think how much worse it could have been. Mainly, I was just thankful to be alive.
    The amazing thing about hardship and what really makes it easier to bear is the kindness of people. No sooner had I pulled off the road than a huge 16-wheeler pulled off in front of me. The man and woman came over to see how I was. They had seen everything. The man called the police in the nearest town. They stayed with me a while until I told them I was okay and not to feel they had to wait until the police arrived which could be a long time. So they left me their names, addresses, and phones, and I sat on the highway waiting alone. When the police arrived, they took down all the information, and we went in search of the boat with landed quite a distance away, damaged beyond compare. Their parting words were: "You're very, very lucky."
    I must admit to having a few questions about it all -- fate, I mean. Like: What if I had left Reno yesterday? What if I hadn't taken the loop drive and arrived at the accident spot 10-20 minutes earlier? All interesting to ponder but in the end, of what value? What happened happened.
    The owners of the boat had not stopped. I seriously doubt if they even knew what happened. I like to believe that anyway. I think they will get to their destination and discover their boat missing. If they do know what happened and didn't stop to see how I was, that is something they will have to live with the rest of their lives.
    After talking to the police officer, I continued on my journey, thinking how different the outcome could have been and being so grateful for being alive. I blew a kiss to the angel on my dashboard, and I could swear it was smiling.

    Later: I was able to get a replacement bumper for around $100. I needed new license plates anyway, but there was nothing that could be done about the slight indentation to the front of the camper shell. It's still there as a reminder...

    I've been collecting the names of Mexican dentists since everyone in this area seems to go across the border for dental care, eye glasses, prescriptions, etc. Algodones, Mexico is less than 1/2 hour from Yuma. Yesterday at the Unitarian Church, I got a couple of more names. I drove to Algodones hoping I would be able to get in, and I did. The dentist in Lancaster, CA in January said I would need a deep cleaning reguiring novacaine -- even though I've gone to the dentist every six months all my life -- another "joy of age" I guess. The Mexican dentist concurred and referred me to a periodontist. To make a long story short, $300 and three dental surgeries later on three sides of my mouth, I returned to Yuma. The good thing about it is that I was able to get it all done in that one trip, and the first dentist did not charge me. The surgeries were relatively painless thanks to about a gallon of novacaine, but afterwards it was really painful. I used ice packs and even took an aspirin, which is saying something for me since I don't take medicines of any kind. I gave into the pain, listened to my body, and stayed in bed most of the day. By evening the pain was considerably less. I went to the Yuma library to catch up on my email and to take my mind off my teeth. I was able to write until 9:00 p.m. I made dinner in my camper and started out to the "Wal-Mart RV Park" about 10:00 p.m.
    The end to a "perfect" day? How about a having a tire blow out? Thank goodness it was late in the evening with little traffic. The blow-out itself was nothing serious; I just felt a kind of thump which progressed to a loud hissing sound. When I pulled over, the hissing sound was still there, but I couldn't see anything wrong. When I started driving again, I had a bumpy ride. Then it was obvious what had happened. I called AAA and was on my way again within an hour. It's never a good time for a blow out, but today after the dental surgery, it seemed a bit much. I always look at these things philosophically because I know two things: 1) eventually one's "number" comes up and 2) it can always be worse. What if I'd had the blow-out in Mexico earlier in the day or on the freeway or going at a much faster speed?
    It occurs to me that I could write a long story around dentists in my travels. The first year I went to the dentist six times -- three different dentists in three different towns, but that's another story. (See "The Singing Dentist" on my people link.)

P.S. And this doesn't count the week I spent in Naples, Florida.....at the car repair place where my car had a partial hysterectomy: muffler, radiator, starter, and clutch. These had been creeping up on my over time; so they weren't unexpected in my 12-year-old truck.

Life #10.....THE STORY OF THE FIVE QUARTERS.....San Francisco, California..... 12/04/02

    I was hanging around in my camper in Port Angeles, Washington this summer, waiting for a meeting to start. When I opened my wallet, a quarter fell out onto the floor and bounced out the door into the grass in the parking lot. I clearly saw where it fell and decided to pick it up when I went inside to the meeting. The grass was about three inches tall, and when I looked for it, I couldn't find it. No problem, I thought, I'll look again when I return to my car.
    After the meeting, as I was walking across the gravel parking lot, about half way to my car, I happened to look down and spotted a very tarnished quarter in the gravel. By its dull-gray color, I could tell it had been there for a very long time. Since it was the exact color of the gravel, I was amazed that I was able to see it; I wasn't even looking. When I got to my car, I looked a bit longer for the quarter I dropped earlier but no luck. Oh well, I thought, at least I broke even.
    The next morning I parked in front of the YMCA and decided to check out the new playground equipment in the park across the way. The whole Port Angeles community had joined together to build it in less than a week (more than 1,000 volunteers!). As I walked among the intricate construction (bridges, spires, cubbyholes, tunnels, ladders to higher and higher platforms, etc.), I saw two shiny quarters lying side-by-side on the wood-chip-covered ground. Hmmmmm! I thought that was pretty unusual. Now I had three quarters for the one I lost the day before.
    Later that day, as I sat down at the computer to write at the library -- you guessed it! There was another quarter right beside me. Within 24 hours of losing my quarter, I had received four quarters in return. When things happen like this, I start to get that other-worldly feeling. A feeling comprised of mystery and happenstance and, yes, magic!
    Is life trying to tell me something? I often get confirming messages like this from the universe. Encouraging messages -- messages that say to me, "Keep it up, Jane; you're doing the "right" thing. You're living the life that was meant for you to live. Maybe even discovered what Carolyn Myss calls "Your Sacred Contract." I realized that the five quarters were a perfect simile for how life works: What you put out, you get back a thousand times, over and over again. In the case of the lost quarter, I got it back four times. That means I have at LEAST 996 rewards in store!

P.S. I still have those four quarters today, and I show them at my presentations. When I talk about how I don't charge for anything I do, I use "The Story of the Five Quarters" as a perfect example of how we get back many, many times what we put out.

Life #9.....MERRY CHRISTMAS?.....San Francisco, California.....12/02/02

Since my divorce in 1979, I've never known what to do with holidays, especially Christmas (and then there's Thanksgiving, Mothers' Day, and Valentine's Day, not to mention my birthday). But Christmas has been especially hard for me, except for the past couple of years. You see, I don't consider myself either religious or a consumer. So, the question always was: "What do I do with Christmas?" Here are some of my views:

1. CHRISTMAS CARDS: I stopped sending Christmas cards years ago for many reasons: how to limit the ever-growing list, the cost of postage, whether to send cards to out-of-town friends only or in-town friends too, getting printed cards from people with mailing labels for addresses and only a signature -- no personal message (why bother?), sending a card and not getting one back, getting a card when I haven't sent one, etc. I'm sure you could add to this list. Now if I get a card, I either call the person or write them. I save my responses until Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, New Year's Eve, or New Year's Day. It gives me something to look forward to when I am by myself and need to feel connected.

2. GIFT GIVING: Since I have everything I need or want (and so do most people if they only realized it!), I stopped the gift giving/receiving long ago (what Vicki Robin, co-author of the book Your Money or Your Life, calls "the feeding frenzy called Christmas"). I was tired of going through the agony of opening presents and pretending to like them. I began to dread it. I will never forget the Christmas I spent with people who were very well off, yet the Christmas tree was two-feet high with gifts. I was very uncomfortable there and vowed never to participate in the gift-giving activity again. When I made my decision to stop getting/giving gifts, I wrote people notes in November, saying: "Since I have everything I need or want, please buy a Toy for Tots instead of giving me a gift." I think a better idea would be to ask them to make a donation to their favorite charity. (Now don't get me wrong. It's not that I never give gifts, but I don't give them according to a schedule perpetuated by business interests. I give gifts when I see something that is absolutely perfect for the person in mind.)

3. THE HAVES AND THE HAVE NOTS: At a Unitarian Church Service (Valdosta, Georgia), there was a program on meeting the needs of underprivileged children. People wondered what they could do to make a difference. The problem is so overwhelming at the world, national, state, and even local level. Knowing that change starts with the individual and being aware of the tremendous difference one person can make, I suggested the church start a fund called something like "The Valdosa Unitarian Church Fund for People in Need." It would be a discretionary fund. Any person or organization could ask for help from the fund and the executors could decide about contributing and how much. It could be used by the community, as well as Unitarians in need. I suggested everyone send notes to people asking them to contribute to the fund instead of buying gifts for them.

4. THE RELIGIOUS THING: At another Unitarian Church (Macon, Georgia), the minister gave a sermon on Christmas. Afterwards, she asked the congregation to share their feelings. This is what I said: "Since I'm not religious, and I'm not a consumer, I've never known what to do with Christmas. But during the sermon today, when the minister asked something like 'What can you do to make Christmas more meaningful for you?,' I had an epiphany: I realized that I DO believe in the teachings of Jesus. 'That's it,' I thought! 'During the Christmas season, I can focus on the life of Jesus and be joyful: how he treated everyone as an equal, how he accepted the outcast, his nonjudgmental attitude, and his gentle nature. He is the very epitomy of peace.'" It was a life-changing moment for me.

5. THE DOOR FULLY OPEN: Finally, last Christmas Eve (Tallahassee, Florida), I had time before the Unitarian Church service; so I decided to walk around the small, urban lake, not too far away. I loved walking around the lake at night with the only light from lamp posts positioned around the lake. When I saw a heron motionless by the shore, I paused a while on a park bench to watch. It was a blissful experience -- the door that began to open for me in Valdosta, Georgia and continued opening in Macon, Georgia became fully open to the true spirit and joy of Christmas on this Christmas Eve in Tallahassee, Florida. Time stood still for me. I was so filled with joy that I had to write it. That is the night I began my journal, and without knowing it then, that is the night I became a writer.

I forced myself to check my watch and saw it was time to go. As I continued to walk around the lake toward my camper, for the first time in my life I was able to say "Merry Christmas" to everyone I saw (and mean it)!

Life #6.....FORGET EVERYTHING I SAID; LIE TO ME!.....Port Angeles, Washington.....9/8/02

    What was I THINKING when I said, "You can tell me anything," when what I REALLY meant was, "You can tell me anything...as long as it's about how wonderful you think I am and how much you care about me." It certainly didn't mean, "You can tell me ANYTHING about the women in your life -- in excruciating detail." I cried for two days...well maybe not two days...but certainly two hours.     As soon as I got the letter, I tried to answer it (three times). Here's what I wrote on the third try:

"My dear friend, this is my third attempt at trying to respond to your letter. To say I am completely overwhelmed is putting it mildly. When I try to write you from an objective, intellectual, mind view -- taking the higher path -- it seems the way I OUGHT to feel. When I discard that and write from my heart, the truth seems too emotional. So nothing seems right. I have decided to take the following approach:

Will you just pretend to be me for a few moments and read the letter you wrote as if you were me? Please read every single word from my perspective, and I'd appreciate an answer on this one subject alone. Then I will send you the second part of this letter. (God only knows what that will be...)"

    This has been a very interesting experience for me -- a real learning experience. (Have I told you that all my lessons are hard and/or expensive? It's how I learn best.) You see, it's been eight days now since I tried to respond to his (name withheld to protect the guilty) letter, and I haven't responded yet. If you know me, this is unbelievable and completely out of character for me: the person who has no unfinished business in her life, no loose ends. But the day I received his letter, it was inpossible for me to respond to all the letter contained. I was FORCED to wait. And waiting, although frustrating at the time, was a very good experience for me. The conflicting emotions, feelings, and ideas continued to jump around in my brain like overactive monkeys -- hardly ever at peace. But as the days went by, I found I WAS able to "take the higher path instead of the lower." I was forced, through being unable to act/write, to sit back, and I found I became less of a participant and more of an observer in what was happening.
    I was able to reach beyond myself (my reaction) and look at things from his perspective. I had asked for openness and honesty, and I GOT IT! How could I fault anyone for that? And if I did, could I expect openness and honesty in the future? NOT! You've heard this before, "BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU ASK FOR!" I got EXACTLY what I asked for -- maybe a little MORE than I asked for...OKAY, a whole lot more than I asked for, a whole lot more than I wanted to hear.
    I have to admit that I felt depressed. And I wasn't writing -- a sure sign that life had taken a downward turn. (The thought crossed my mind: Would I would ever be able to write again?) Still, what could I do, but get on with the daily tasks of living.
    A couple of nights later, I was playing cards with a group of women, probably in their 70s or even older. I thought, "How can I concentrate on cards when I feel like this, moreover put on a happy face?" Finally, I just blurted out the whole story to them, not the details of the letter, but the fact that I had asked for openness and honesty, got it, and didn't want it. I actually began to see the irony and humor in all this and laughed in the telling. The three elderly widows listened in interested, empathetic silence to my story and my questions: How can I be upset over this letter when I got exactly what I asked for?" and secondly, "How could I answer it?" These three women were a longgggg way away from this type of situation, and although they listened attentively didn't have much to offer in the way of advice. But it helped me to voice the experience and even to laugh about it.
    It has been seven days now since I received his letter. The sadness I feel comes back every now and then, along with the mixed feelings. Last night I was eating a soggy salad left over from lunch while listening to Garrison Keillor's Prairie Home Companion on the radio. I had carefully saved a piece of choice turkey from that same meal, thinking I would make a sandwich to go with my salad. When I looked for the turkey, it wasn't there. Where it was....was on the floor. Oh, how I wanted that turkey! "That figures," I thought, "with the way my life is going right now." I picked the turkey up and threw it outside where I figured some dog would find it and have a kind of gourmet doggy meal. As I continued listening to the radio program, Garrison announced that a musician would play my favorite piece of music in the whole world: "The Swan" by Saint-Saens. I immediately brightened. It's a good sign, I thought; things may be looking up. Then the musician started playing the music -- on a musical saw! Oh my! What that musical saw did to "The Swan." There oughta be a law.
    "Now isn't that just a great example of the yin/yang of life?" I thought. In fact, isn't this whole thing just an interesting example of how life works? That's when I dropped the container of beautiful, delicious, organic, cherry tomatoes (from the Port Angeles Farmers' Market) on the floor.

And, that's when I decided to write this story, and I knew I was going to be all right!

Life #5.....LAST NIGHT I SAUNTERED.....Port Angeles, Washington.....7/1/02 (Revised 7/8/02)

    Dr. Andrew Weil, author of Eight Weeks to Optimum Health, the best book on health ever written for the lay person, says to walk every day. As I remember, he says to start out with ten minutes the first week and increase that by ten minutes every week until you walk up to about an hour. "I don't have to do that," I thought, "since I exercise every day -- either aerobics or weight machines." But no, Dr. Weil says walk in addition to other exercise.
    Now for quite some time, I have been torn between walking for exercise and walking for enjoyment. If I walk for exercise and concentrate on keeping up a good pace, it's hard to stop and linger over some little gift of nature. I like the idea of walking for enjoyment much better. I still get exercise that way, maybe not the aerobic kind, and can enjoy noticing what's going on in the world around me. Since I do exercise during the day, why not just saunter at sunset?
    So, that argument with myself resolved, last night I sauntered and enjoyed it immensely. Thoreau sauntered, and that's where I first got the idea. Sauntering -- I like it. It brought to mind a leisurely pace, noticing and enjoying everything, stopping to smell the roses. The first night in Port Angeles, I parked on the hill near downtown overlooking the Strait of Juan de Fuca. The view was breathtaking -- an expanse of water as far as the eye could see, ending at mountains in the far distance. I walked downhill, toured the city park, walked the length of the pier, and began a long walk along the path that edged the water. The path passed over short bridges crossing ponds where duck families nestled in the cat tails. Purple foxglove, nettles, salmon-colored salmon berries, promising black berry bushes, and a plant with leaves bigger than a dinner plate reminded me I was back in the Northwest. I walked to the end of the path and backtracked to another path going up the hill, meandering through neighborhoods high above the water with spectacular views. Flower gardens offered me roses of many colors and dark red, pink, white, and pinkish-white peonies and other blooms too numerous to mention. The clouds lifted just enough for me to see the snow-covered peaks of the Olympic Mountains. It was almost dark when my walk ended.
    I LIKED this idea of sauntering. Of course, I like walking and hiking too, but sauntering was something different; it encompassed so much more. It had a spirit of its own. So, I did it again the next night. This time I parked in the same place at the top of the hill, inspired immediately by the immense expanse of salt water and distant mountains. This time when I reached the city park, I went in the opposite direction -- a more cityfied walk that went past the ferry terminal to Victoria, Canada. This walk had sidewalks with the prettiest planter "boxes" I've ever seen. There were park benches every now and then, but I didn't want to hesitate right now -- so enthralled I was with sauntering in the fresh air and the lovely surroundings. Tonight, I will walk along one of the town streets. Or maybe I'll go to the very top of the hill by the college, where the views are even more spectacular from above the town.

Life #4.....TRANSCENDENTALISM.....Des Moines, Washington 6/21/02 (Revised 6/26/02)

From a letter to a friend:

    Last night, I went to a weekly group at the Unitarian Church called "Thoreau as Spiritual Guide." They are using the book by the same title by Barry Andrews. The subtitle is "a companion to Walden for personal reflection and group discovery." I have seen this study group in other UU Churches in my travels, but it meets weekly, and I've never been around that long.
    It says that transcendentalism grew out of Unitarianism and that Thoreau was a Unitarian along with Emerson. (And that the very beginnings were with Emanual Kant, someone I want to read.) The book includes intriguing chapters entitled: How Do We Spend Our Lives, How Do We Wake Up, How Do We Grow, Society and Solitude, The Spiritual Life, and How Then Shall We Live. WOW! I want to own this book. Another thing it says is to let yourself unfold to whatever you are and that one does this by: contemplation, journaling, conversation, reading a lot, and sauntering -- yes, sauntering. And that opens up a whole other topic....maybe a story. (See how writing letters starts my creative juices flowing? I never resent the time spent writing to friends; so many of my writing ideas stem from letters back and forth.)
    Finally, the author says religion is not so much thinking as living; not so much doctrine as waking up, about being fully alive, in the awareness of the present moment; not so much meaning as passion. (When I read that aloud to my friend after class, she said, "You are all those things." For once, I was speechless; nothing could have pleased me more.) I can send you the handouts for the class if you like (once I come down off the ceiling). It occurs to me as I write this, that if a person has the words PASSION, FANTASY, MIRACULOUS, and PLAY in their vocabularies, I definitely sit up and take notice. People who have those words in their vocabularies, usually have those things in their lives. (I feel another story coming on....)
    During the class, I realized why you are the person you are. Here's the part about transcendentalism from the book: "reverence for nature, an organic world view, a sense of the miraculous (!), an optimism about human potential, a search for what is universal in religion and personal experience, a strong ethical sensabiliy, and an encouragement of the individual in his or her own religious quest." YES! YES! YES! All that just makes my heart beat faster. Of course, I'd love to talk to you about this, especially since you were involved in teaching transcendental meditation, but it might be a rather expensive phone call! Better to save it until we meet in person. (Now I am on the lookout for "Walden" in the over-forty size print!)
    There's not much more to say on this subject now, but I'm sure there WILL be later -- just as soon as I read the book Walden AND all the class handouts AND Walden as Spiritual Guide AND Emanual Kant AND Emerson...and...And...AND...

P.S. Added 6/26/02.....Hmmmmm, transcendentalism. It occurs to me that the word incorporates the word "transcend." And it is truly like that for me. (It's not easy to explain; like trying to define spirituality.) By being totally present in the moment (seeing rather than looking, listening rather than hearing, feeling rather than touching, and, most important, APPRECIATING EVERYTHING), I am able to transcend the moment and carry the wonder of it all with me wherever I go. WOW!

Life #3.....DEATH.....Laramie, Wyoming.....5/26/02

For the past several years, I have sent the following to the loved ones. I print it in large, italic letters. It takes up a whole page. I leave room at the top of the page for a handwritten note. One of my notes said, "I am so sorry for your loss -- for the world's loss and mine. I share your sorrow. Please let me know if there is anything I can do to help. You are in my thoughts; I hope the following brings you some comfort. Jane"

Life #2.....A PERFECT EVERY-DAY-KIND-OF-DAY.....Boise, Idaho.....6/4/02 (Revised 6/26/02)

    Now I like to do a WHOLE LOT of other things than I mention in this story, but if I were going to pick a perfect every-day-kind-of-day, it would be a day like today: I started out early driving from Greeley, Colorado to Cheyenne, Wyoming, about an hour's drive -- everyone still sleeping -- the road to myself. Have you noticed that driving at dawn or dusk adds a special something to the trip no matter what the scenery? During early mornings and early evenings the world takes on a kind of glow. "Between the dark and the daylight..."
    I headed straight for the YMCA, with only one stop for directions. The Cheyenne YMCA turned out to be one of the best: friendly, helpful people and a great facility. Since it was a Memorial Day weekend, I didn't get a chance to attend classes. The bonus was that the Y is located on a good-sized park with a lake. After stretching, aerobics, and a shower, I had a great lunch on a $3.17 coupon saved from another city. The weather is a perfect 68 degrees and sunny. After being in Florida for so long, I'm cool once again, and it is oh so welcome!
    Cheyenne has only one library, but it's a great one, and I was able to get some writing done. Right now, I'm parked by the lake, getting ready for my nap, snuggling in with my comfort tucked under my chin, and my feet sticking out; I like cool feet. I'll either pick up a novel or do a crossword puzzle until I get sleepy.
    From 6-8 p.m. I'll tune in to Garrison Keillor's "A Prairie Home Companion" on the radio (my favorite radio program), make dinner, and work on projects while I listen (dishes, cooking, filing, mending, organizing,etc.) -- you know, all the little tasks YOU do at home. Non-thinking tasks; so I can pay full attention to the program. I never miss "A Prarie Home Companion" wherever I am. When I know where I'll be on Sunday, I look it up on the internet to make sure of the time and the station. When there's no Unitarian Church around, I jokingly say, "I attend the Church of Garrison Keillor." The show is repeated on Sunday afternoon. Sometimes I listen to it twice. It does my heart THAT good!
    At 8:00 p.m., I'll do my practice (yoga, spiritual/inspirational reading, and meditating) and then walk around the lake before dark. I expect the birds and I will have the lake all to ourselves at that time of day. It's a serene time -- a time to think and reflect on the day, my life. When I was in Tecopa Hot Springs, I began the practice of taking my daily walk just at sunset, my favorite time of day. There's a big sky there, and sometimes the sunset filled it completely.
    To end the day, I might go dancing. I tell people I have to go dancing at least once a week or see a psychatrist, and dancing is A WHOLE LOT cheaper. Or, I might go to a movie; next to exercise, movies are my second addiction. Just ask my friend Lyn. We always give each other our latest movie reviews via almost daily e-mails, and we usually agree. Neither one of us is big on science fiction, fantasy, or animated movies. (And, I don't do violent movies -- anything to do with war, murder, or any other type of violence, believing that I vote with my dollars, and I think violence in movies and TV is one of the major causes of violence in our society.)
    Most days are pretty similar to the "perfect day" above. Of course, the order varies depending if there's a YMCA nearby, how soon it gets dark, if I'm on the road, etc. But ideally:

1.  exercise (five-minute warm-up walk, stretching, aerobics or weight machines). Other exercise like hiking, volleyball, or biking can substitute for this, but I try to always do the warm-up walk and stretch before any activity.
2.  writing until lunch (e-mail, internet, website)
3.  lunch
4.  fiction and nap
5.  my practice (yoga, inspirational/spiritual reading, meditation)
6.  errands and chores
7.  PLAY (from here on....see * below)
8.  dinner
9.  walk at sunset
10. occasional movie, dancing, or TV
11. fiction and bed

Hmmmmm...I notice my reading pile is not listed here. No wonder I never get it done!

    * After my nap, I PLAY! That means I have the whole rest of the day to do whatever I like. That usually includes going some place of interest or doing an activity like biking or hiking. If I were in one place, it would also include gardening (both flower and vegetable), a great joy of mine. There is nothing like digging in the dirt (dirt therapy)! Hours can seem like minutes. It's kind of a meditation in itself. Every evening at my home in Seattle, I would delight in walking the length of the yard, admiring my roses, herb bed, and the miscellaneous section that included violets, lilies of the valley, irises, and rhododendrons. It's one of the things I miss most. One house I sold in Seattle was billed as a "city farm." You get the idea.
    You know, when I think about it, the two hardest things to give up besides the beautiful co-op apartment I owned, were my house plants and my art, but once again, that's another story.

Life #1.....I CHOSE "SILENCE".....Key West, Florida.....4/25/02 (Rev.3/16/04)

      My friend said, "I like Unitarians, but they talk so much." I have to agree. Unitarians do love to talk, and they love to express their opinion about EVERYTHING because they have an opinion about EVERYTHING. (I know; I am one.) The Seekers are a group of people (not necessarily Unitarians) who meet at the Unitarian Church every Monday at 5:30 p.m. I have been to two sessions: one on "What is real?" and one on being connected. Last week I had to leave early; so as I left, I slipped a note written on a napkin to the leader. It said, "topic suggestion: silence."
      I have a friend who is big on silence and meditates regularly. I saw her last night, walking along the beach at sunset. When she stopped to visit, I told her I suggested the topic of "silence" for the next Seekers' meeting. We had the same thought at the same time: discussing silence? And laughed together. "Sounds like an oxymoron to me!" I said.
      I will start by telling you that there are three things that I can't live without, and together they cost less than $3. The most important of those is EAR PLUGS. (I know you are wondering; so I'll just tell you the other two are sunglasses and chapstick - - one a treat for my eyes and the other a treat for my lips. I guess the ear plugs would be a treat for my ears...and my sanity.) I carry my ear plugs EVERYWHERE.
      I love silence! And I think one of the worst forms of pollution is noise pollution because a lot of the time it's constant and inescapable. It's everywhere! Ear plugs help.
      Specific events have happened to me lately that cause me to think about silence:

1. THE LAUNDROMAT IN HOMESTEAD, FLORIDA. I was the only one in the laudromat that morning, except for the attendant. The TV was blaring out at high volume. In addition, the program was in Spanish. Since I don't speak Spanish, it was just a loud NOISE to me. I asked the attendant if he would mind turning down the volume since I was the only one there. He kindly responded, "Would you rather have me change it to English?" To which I responded, "I'd rather have you turn it off." He stood there completely bewildered. That someone would want the TV off was beyond his perception. I said, "Silence is good." He hesitated a moment and then set the volume very low. He simply could not fathom the idea of quiet in the laundromat.

2. YMCAs ACROSS THE U.S. AND CANADA. I am at the YMCA every day. I have the book of YMCAs which is almost two inches thick. Where I stop at night depends largely on where the next YMCA is located. I know that I can have a shower there and maybe my timing will include an exercise class. At the very least, I can use the weight-bearing machines. Now I can't say enough good things about the YMCA, whether you're traveling or not, BUT some YMCAs are major noise polluters! They play nonstop tapes or radio programs (with their incessant chatter), and they play them LOUD. Now, some people like to hear music; some people like quiet. Some people like loud music; some people like soft music. Some people like country or classical or rock 'n roll or opera or, god forbid, rap. How can we please everybody? The point is, they can't. BUT, it's an easy solution. Some enlightened YMCAs have absolute quiet. People bring tape or CD players and headphones. That way they can listen to the kind of music they want at the volume they want, and they do not disturb anyone else. I suggest this simple solution at every music-mad, anti-quiet Y I go to. To support my pro-quiet cause, I tell them most Ys do it that way. And, always the optimist, I think they'll just pull the plug right away. NOT! There's something about change that's hard, especially without a committee meeting. What was that quote? (Pause to look it up...) Ah, yes, here it is: "A conference is a gathering of important people who singly can do nothing, but together can decide that nothing can be done".....Fred Allen. Lord, give me patience, but hurry!

3. THE UNITARIAN CHURCH CRUISE. It was perfect in every way: the weather, the drinks, the food, the employees, the company -- everything. The catamaran slid from it's mooring into the beautiful dusk on the Atlantic Ocean - - a lovely evening for a cruise. It just couldn't have been better. Then the music started, and it felt like an intrusion. I thought, "Why?" Could music really improve this already wonderful experience? I just wanted it to be quiet. I wanted the peacefulness needed to enjoy the natural beauty of Florida at sunset. For once, I didn't say anything. After all, I am a guest here, and I didn't want to "rock the boat," so to speak. And the music wasn't loud, and it wasn't awful; so I endured. No way would I let my quest for silence ruin an otherwise enjoyable experience.

Did I say three examples? There are so many more:

--A five-star, oriental restaurant that plays loud rock music instead of music with a soothing, peaceful, oriental flavor
--Visiting someone who leaves the TV on during the conversation. I usually ask if they can turn the TV off, but if I have to ask, I shouldn't be there.
--Parking in a scenic spot, a car parks beside me with its radio blaring.
--Setting up camp, a car pulls in next to me FOR THE WEEKEND with a boom box playing at top volume. Last time that happened, I walked over to the car and asked if he would please turn his radio down or off. I added that I came to the wilderness to "get away from all that." (Age gives you guts!)
--Hiking in the Colorado mountains, a woman in the group had a bell around her neck, kind of like a cowbell, which rang with every step. The quiet of the forest was continually broken by the constant ringing of that bell. I couldn't hear the birds; I couldn't hear the stream. As pleasantly as possible, I asked her why she wore the bell; she explained it was a "bear bell," worn to scare bears away. "Would you like me to take it off?" she asked. Problem solved. Believe me, with this group, even the most hard-of-hearing bear would have been outta there long ago. When I hike with a group, I usually walk near the back, with a lot of space in between the group and me because the humans have a tendency to talk, Talk, TALK. I think it was Benjamin Franklin who said, "Never say anything that can't improve on silence." I can always find good conversation, but when I'm in nature...ahhhh....I prefer a quiet reverence; so I can LISTEN. The only coverstation I want to hear is nature talk: birds, leaves, streams, waterfalls, pine needles under foot, wind -- all combined in a forest symphony.
      During the group, we discussed the difference between noise and sound, and then we got into silence. I talked about one of my favorite places: Tecopa Hot Springs in California at the southern tip of Death Valley. There is nothing there, and therein lies the breathtaking beauty of the place. The silence is as loud as thunder. On the edge of the campground, I look out over miles and miles of nothingness -- emptyness as far as the eye can see. In the morning, the sun comes up over the low-lying mountains, and the colors of the desert change from subtle grays and tans to a quiet riot of pinks, oranges, yellows, and reds. The heat follows the colors. And night? Ahhh, the sky is the blackest black, a perfect background to show off trillions of stars. Watching shooting stars at night, it occurs to me that this is the closest I have ever come to total bliss.
      On a lighter note, George told the story about how he and his wife were on a long road trip. Their little girls were in the back seat, and, of course, the noise was nonstop. He or his wife were constantly after the girls to quiet down, without success. George stood it as long as he could and pulled to a stop alongside the highway. Very quietly and very apologetically, he said something like this to his wife, "I'm very sorry to have to do this, but I'm going to have to put the girls out of the car." And he did! As he drove off, he looked back to see the girls looking very forlorn, holding hands on the side of the road. After going about 100 feet, of course, he let them back in the car. He said, "I have never had a quieter trip."
      In conclusion, I ask you, "Why do we always have to have noise? Why don't people prefer silence as I do?" To answer my own question, I think it's a combination of three things. First, I am older now. Second, I seek happiness internally rather than externally. Third, I teach meditation and have come to love the bliss and peace that comes with silence.

P.S. I saw a bumper sticker that said "If it's too loud, you're too old." I wish someone would create a bumper sticker that says "If it's too soft, you're too young."