DePave

   Today I had what may be my most best day yet in Portland. Im not sure why I say that as Ive had some great days here involving people I have met. Today I went to volunteer with a group called DePave. It's their mission to get the pavement out of town and replace it with food based gardens and or native plantings. They were so welcoming and real and everyone enjoyed themselves. And of course, they are doing something I believe in. Now, I am helping them. 

   Afterwards, we met at a members house for beer provided by Widmer, a local brewery. So many new and genuine faces and I did not feel uncomfortable at all. Wow, have I finally grown up? Matured?   (:

     

Here's A Picture For You

After a beautiful string of eternal moments at the rose garden, I rode to another favorite spot. The spot where I first saw Levi. I love that name but not in the textile kind of way.

Never mind.

The spot where the column is at what one could almost consider to be the top of the park. But it's the top of the bottom of the park.

Never mind.

I rode up to the spot where they should have put Sacagawea and noted a women from some place in history enjoying a gentle swing. Well, perhaps it was not so gentle for her, but there she was, dressed in a calf-length brown skirt with a matching jacket. I had to imediately ditch the bike and go swing next to her.

"How old is she?'

She's from the old-country. Any old-country that is full of warm memories. That's how old she is. A light blue scarf, truer blue than the sky, framed a face warmed by the wisdom of centuries. With excitement I sat on the swing next to her and began to swing gently.

"Hello" I said. Her face smiled true. I was being true too.

I said something else that, like a dream, I can't remember. But like a dream, those ones truer than life, I felt everything,

More smiles.

"Do they have swings in Iran?'

Im swinging high now, my feet reaching for a brilliant sun while my head gets wrapped up in the earth. Believe me, this is not my normal condition. But Im still being true.

What if everything you heard was a lie?

Musing In The Garden

Life, it seems, is a constant pulling oneself up. At a certain point one is either strong or dead. Of course, there is plenty of in between. There is always a place between this and that, whatever those may be. Some may have it easy till one day trouble comes along and they have no idea how to manage. But I couldn't know for sure, being that I am only me. Some never figure out that they poses the strength to lift themselves. Yes, I know, there are broken minds but many may be looking for a reason.

The path of least resistance would be to give up.

Or perhaps it's the weight. Yes, the excess wait of cultural and religious bonds. Heavy steel chains wrought by... who? A Saguaro can stand for a time, months, years even, before anyone knows it's dead.

"Yeah, it's been dead for a time. Just now decided to fall over."

Sometimes I think our culture is dead, or at least dying. So much of everything is an abstraction. A culture full of dead things that make a lot of noise. So much so that it's easy to know they are alive. Someday we will be like machines but we wont know it.

"It all happened quite naturally really."

A kind of contrived evolution. So be it. I ride through the sun, find some shelter under a tree where the wind whispers, breath in the decay of leaves so I know I am real. That I am... indeed alive.

"How strange, these people who can smell death and know it means life. They eat bizarre things from the earth, roots and tubers. They walk with their feet." "Oh, I've heard but never seen. I hear they have no place between."

The emptiness between distractions.

Why have I chosen this path? Seeking to simplify the convoluted. Lying around smelling dead leaves. Listening for signs of life in the roar of dead things. The wind shakes the leaves and fills my eyes with light.

What if everything you heard was a lie?

Well, you'd have to pull yourself up. Be strong. Go ahead and try.

Look past... everything,

breath slow and deep,

let it in,

let it go.

Now, stand like and ancient tree beside a polluted river. Listen to the light in the leaves. The river waits for the prophecies to fulfill themselves. She has plenty of time.

Appreciation

    Oh my. I got paid today and treated myself to a big burger and some beer. And what a treat it was. The 5th Quadrant is where I ate. They represent a local brewery and use local, organic beef between their buns. The burger was beyond good and for the first time I had gouda cheese with it. Yum, perfect compliment. I also had two Sockeye Cream Stouts via nitro. Too good. For those who do not know, nitro is sometimes used instead of  Co2 to get the beer out of the keg. It makes for a smoother creamer taste. Much preferred by myself. I had never heard of it till moving here. Anyway, I enjoyed my treat and that has as much to do with the fact that I just got paid for some work I am doing. I have not had any significant work in months so have not been able to go out and get a burger and beer in some time. There is nothing like lack to make one appreciate some seemingly simple things. Of course I have been enjoying myself without money as there is still plenty of living to be had for free. It's my goal now to be even more self-sufficient. What does that mean? Is anyone truly free or SELF-sufficient? It's a matter of degree but just having to rely on others for income is not self-sufficient. But there is a great deal one can do for themselves, even in the city, to minimize dependency. So yeah, land of the free, home of the brave. I think not. At least no more than many other "Lands".  But why would we compare ourselves to say... Palestine. Apple to apple we are pretty ordinary and much more dependent than we ever think about. And brave? Have you sucked up your dose of fear today?

    ANYWAY......... So while I was sitting there eating I noticed this tiny, bright-green bug walking across the beer menu. Little bug lost. An aphid out of place, and I thought, like with the buzzing fly, to squash it. No reason for that, but one might think maybe it would be better for the bug. Put it out of its misery. What misery? One would not do that to a person. Let's lend a hand. Of course I did not bother with the bug anymore than I usually bother with the person on the street asking for some change. Im sure the guys on the street need much more than some change and it's not anything I can really help with. But the bug... The irony of it is that being a gardener, if I had found it with a bunch of other aphids in excess on some plant I probably would have suffocated them all with soap and water. Hey... there's no shortage of aphids. Hum... one could say that about us humans too but I don't believe it. I think there is enough for all but we let fear and greed rule us from the highest realms of humanity. We are humans not aphids. We should live accordingly. What separates humans from aphids? Yeah, yeah ,yeah, we've got big brains and can create things we are not mature enough to use. Always reaching for more of nothing and not realizing that we've got it all going. Fa ree and brave.

Great burger. I think Im going to go get me some ice cream. Or better yet the same thing only different made with coconut milk. Got to love coconut though.

Stories

   I believe everyone has a story to tell that would be of relevance and interest to others. A story that instructs or encourages or just makes one laugh at living. My friend Laura has been in Mexico City now for several weeks. She's a performance artist and is walking Aveneda de los Insurgentes, through the heart of the city, inviting anyone to walk with her a bit and tell a story. Any story. She then posts them at Walking Stories: Mexico City. The stories can be bizarre but are mostly everyday though insightful and warm. A bridge to understanding.

   Today I was sitting our front of Backspace reading a local rag and sipping some coffee. It was a quiet, overcast afternoon, yet bright and warm. A couple guys sat next to me talking and at one point engaged me. One spoke of a man he met from China and of his idea to get a story out of him and post it to a blog. He spoke of building this bridge to understanding. Laura's blog is like that. She was there when the piggy flew and was reporting straight from the streets of Mexico City. Her actual observations tempered the ridiculous hype coming form the joke we call news. Of course there is nothing funny about some of that which is spewed form the mouths of various talking heads on the television. It is important that we live with open minds and hearts so that we are ready to see the truth when it confronts us. And I am not talking about some contrived dogma parading as truth, "only" or otherwise. Think about it. There is no shortage of religions claiming to be the path. No shortage of chains binding spirit.

   Anyway... The guys went into Backspace and came out later with a girlfriend of theirs. They were on their way to get a free meal being offered at Obryant Park and invited me to join them. Sure, I said and off we went. I didn't need the meal but was grateful for the friendship offered and yes, the meal too, which turned out to be quite generous and tasteful. There was a variety of fresh prepared dishes and deserts. There was even a queue for clothing for anyone who might need something. 

   When I leave my house to be part of the day these are the kinds of experiences I hope to have. All three of these travelers had stories to tell and today we were all part of each others story. I say go ahead and tell your story even if it's only to yourself and not in words to be read. It's like a journey of discovery at the least, and if you listen to the stories of others you'll know that you are not alone. And like life, you never know. You never know what will come of the telling, the writing, the listening, but it will come to something. Take charge of your story. Laugh, cry, get angry and let it all go. The wind is listening.