Monday, November 14, 2011, 2:41 PM
I stopped in at Bookman's a picked up a copy of Shirley MacLaine’s book The Camino: a Journey of the Spirit. While having lunch at a local, inexpensive, Mexican Restaurant I began to read. Spoke to my daughter who is giving me much frustration and had to just let go of attempting to control the situation. She is a grown woman who in my estimation is not making very good choices right now. But, she is making them and all I can do is tell her what I think, then sit and worry about the outcome. I am fearful that something will happen to her which I cannot stand to think about. She is flying across the country to see a man/boy she is obsessed with calling it love. I don’t trust him, nor like him because of his behaviors toward her which have caused her great distress. Even so she is off and all I can to is wait for her to return, hopefully alive and well.
The Camino starts here in Flagstaff, AZ.
Read more: http://blog.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/cookecarl/1/1323629666/tpod.html#ixzz1hInwaA45
Thursday, December 22, 2011
June 15, 2011, 12:40 pm
Flight 145 Heathrow to Boston
Well did not get to Austria, or France, or Ireland, or Scotland or even Liverpool this year. And now I'm heading home early which feels like the right thing to be doing at this point. Not having almost unlimited funds as I’ve had for the past two years is part or the reason. Needing to get back and take care of a number to things having to do with getting ready for next year’s tax season. Also feeling like I’m needing to be with my son on his birthday and Father’s day. This year there was no mother for my daughter’s birthday, or to celebrate Mother’s day or her birthday in May and now no mother at his birthday. So rather than spend any more money and dealing with not so nice weather I’m heading home.
Several things have come to mind this year as I traveled that will apply to my trip next year. The first it that my previous trips all had some goal attached to them. All those goals have been reached which is one of the reasons I floundered around this year attempting to find some purpose. Next I felt stuck, gee there’s a new one, by not doing better planning on the events I volunteered at during the Festival. The time between them required me to spend more time in Salisbury than ever before. There was really no need to wait for a special order tire, which if I had paid more attention/focus just by looking at the one good tire already on the bike. Focus or the lack there of was probably the biggest problem. Then the weather was the worst I’ve run into since coming over here. In the past I’ve had lots of rain which was not a problem because it was warm and there was little wind.
This year was much colder and windier than any previous year. Wind blowing so hard that it almost stopped me from going forward while riding. Almost daily wind, rain, and cooler temperatures then on prior trips caused my bones to ache. This along with a lack of direction or focus, my mind more back in the states then here left me unsmiling. Not all the time, but a good deal of it I checked in on myself and found no smile or wonderment on my face. I found that even the birds, which sang me to sleep and woke me up in the past, went unheard. Each of my previous trips ended being a spiritual renewal that seemed not to be possible this year. A thought that kept running through my head was To much death this year, to many lives cut short and mind goes on. Where is my gratitude?
So I found on line this site that talks about the process of a Pilgrimage. A pilgrimage is most likely what my previous trips turned out to be. So the following are the steps:
1. Feeling what it means to be a pilgrim.
2. Reading the signs along the way as the journey takes on a life of its own.
3. Awareness of companions along the way and why are they there.
4. History of the story we witness as we journey: Spiritual, historical, and political.
5. As you travel you become part to the story, no longer an observer.
6. Seeing where heaven and earth touch, seeing with the eye of you spirit
7. Affirmation. Opening up to what needs to be confronted or what is revealed.
In retrospect the pilgrimage this year did not reveal itself until I made the decision to return home early. Then and only then did the bigger pilgrimage I’ve been on become visible from the smaller. Gary and I talk often about things happening when they are supposed to not necessarily in tune with when we think they should. People, time and time again, ask me what drove me to do this bike riding in England. Each time I answer them only I miss the answer. I’m saying I dreamed of doing this for a long time yet only just found a way to do it. Which seems to say that other things had more priority then doing this so it could not have been a very important dream could it? What I really mean is in my mind was a hope that this would come to pass when it was mean to. Not after doing it I’d which I’d done it sooner because it would have meant the same.
The first trip happened at a time when it was most needed. Subsequent trips happened because the first did not give me enough time to complete the pilgrimage, not that it is completed now. The bigger pilgrimage, my life, will not be finished until I die. The smaller pilgrimages which create the bigger one are by no means over either. The England Pilgrimage may be over, or needs to be looked at in a different context. So it will become, at this point, England Pilgrimage II, because I think England Pilgrimage I has been complete thus this years feeling of being lost may be the beginning of England Pilgrimage II.
Step One: Feeling what it means to be a pilgrim.
I think back to Gary and I talking about his Pilgrimage to Spain and Walking the Camino Santi Ago(?).
Read more: http://blog.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/cookecarl/1/1323633518/tpod.html#ixzz1hIgaRdjB
Flight 145 Heathrow to Boston
Well did not get to Austria, or France, or Ireland, or Scotland or even Liverpool this year. And now I'm heading home early which feels like the right thing to be doing at this point. Not having almost unlimited funds as I’ve had for the past two years is part or the reason. Needing to get back and take care of a number to things having to do with getting ready for next year’s tax season. Also feeling like I’m needing to be with my son on his birthday and Father’s day. This year there was no mother for my daughter’s birthday, or to celebrate Mother’s day or her birthday in May and now no mother at his birthday. So rather than spend any more money and dealing with not so nice weather I’m heading home.
Several things have come to mind this year as I traveled that will apply to my trip next year. The first it that my previous trips all had some goal attached to them. All those goals have been reached which is one of the reasons I floundered around this year attempting to find some purpose. Next I felt stuck, gee there’s a new one, by not doing better planning on the events I volunteered at during the Festival. The time between them required me to spend more time in Salisbury than ever before. There was really no need to wait for a special order tire, which if I had paid more attention/focus just by looking at the one good tire already on the bike. Focus or the lack there of was probably the biggest problem. Then the weather was the worst I’ve run into since coming over here. In the past I’ve had lots of rain which was not a problem because it was warm and there was little wind.
This year was much colder and windier than any previous year. Wind blowing so hard that it almost stopped me from going forward while riding. Almost daily wind, rain, and cooler temperatures then on prior trips caused my bones to ache. This along with a lack of direction or focus, my mind more back in the states then here left me unsmiling. Not all the time, but a good deal of it I checked in on myself and found no smile or wonderment on my face. I found that even the birds, which sang me to sleep and woke me up in the past, went unheard. Each of my previous trips ended being a spiritual renewal that seemed not to be possible this year. A thought that kept running through my head was To much death this year, to many lives cut short and mind goes on. Where is my gratitude?
So I found on line this site that talks about the process of a Pilgrimage. A pilgrimage is most likely what my previous trips turned out to be. So the following are the steps:
1. Feeling what it means to be a pilgrim.
2. Reading the signs along the way as the journey takes on a life of its own.
3. Awareness of companions along the way and why are they there.
4. History of the story we witness as we journey: Spiritual, historical, and political.
5. As you travel you become part to the story, no longer an observer.
6. Seeing where heaven and earth touch, seeing with the eye of you spirit
7. Affirmation. Opening up to what needs to be confronted or what is revealed.
In retrospect the pilgrimage this year did not reveal itself until I made the decision to return home early. Then and only then did the bigger pilgrimage I’ve been on become visible from the smaller. Gary and I talk often about things happening when they are supposed to not necessarily in tune with when we think they should. People, time and time again, ask me what drove me to do this bike riding in England. Each time I answer them only I miss the answer. I’m saying I dreamed of doing this for a long time yet only just found a way to do it. Which seems to say that other things had more priority then doing this so it could not have been a very important dream could it? What I really mean is in my mind was a hope that this would come to pass when it was mean to. Not after doing it I’d which I’d done it sooner because it would have meant the same.
The first trip happened at a time when it was most needed. Subsequent trips happened because the first did not give me enough time to complete the pilgrimage, not that it is completed now. The bigger pilgrimage, my life, will not be finished until I die. The smaller pilgrimages which create the bigger one are by no means over either. The England Pilgrimage may be over, or needs to be looked at in a different context. So it will become, at this point, England Pilgrimage II, because I think England Pilgrimage I has been complete thus this years feeling of being lost may be the beginning of England Pilgrimage II.
Step One: Feeling what it means to be a pilgrim.
I think back to Gary and I talking about his Pilgrimage to Spain and Walking the Camino Santi Ago(?).
Read more: http://blog.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/cookecarl/1/1323633518/tpod.html#ixzz1hIgaRdjB
Monday, November 28, 2011
Sunday, November 13, 2011
The Camino de Santiago de Compostela (The Way of St James)
The Camino de Santiago de Compostela (The Way of
St James)
Wednesday, November 09, 2011, 3:44 PM
In 2004 my friend G stated he was going to Spain
to walk The Camino de Santiago de Compostela and would be gone for 2 or 4 months. At the mention of the Camino Shirley McLain’s
book Out on a Limb flashed through my brain. It came out in 1983 and I remembered reading
it because I have always loved Shirley, and it was on the NY Times best seller
list. But, I could not remember much
about the book as we talked. It passed
from my mind, other than the remembrance of things I use to believe. Of all the books I’d read during the 60’s, 70’s
and 80’s before I became a counselor and left that world mostly behind.
Gary had been talking about doing this for a
while now, so I was surprised that he was really going to do it. We discussed his fears and his wondering if
he recent strip of lost items were an omen.
He was gone and since he had no computer or SKYPE I did not hear from
him for four months. Now, I thought this
was an interesting journey, but nothing I’d be interested in on two
counts. First I don’t like the idea for
carrying stuff on my back like a mule; second Spain just did not call to
me. G returned home with tales of his
travels along the Camino which sounded absolutely wonderful; for him. The Camino slowly slipped into the background
and our lives went on until 2005 when went to the emergency room and was
diagnosed with cancer.
This event brought about my excitation of a dream
I had for a very long time. My dream was
to travel to England follow the path of King Arthur and find my family. In 2006 I made my trip to England which
turned out to be a very spiritual adventure.
I found my family in England, then in Austria, travel the roads of King
Arthur, and found the air field my father flew out of during WWII, traveled to
France and continued to do so for the next six years. Last year I found my trip lacking, no spiritual
insight, that was until I boarded the plane home. It was when I found the spiritual part of
this year’s trip. I began to understand
that although I had completed almost all the things my soul requested I search
for there was more to do.
Up on return the Camino began to show up
again. Gary, from time to time, mentioned
his wanting to walk it again. I had met
Ainhoa my first year in England and she asks from time to time when I’m coming
to Basque Country. I have just written
her on Facebook to let her know I’m thinking of coming. That’s
not the truth I’m being drawn to ride the Camino. Recently a new move was released called The
Way. It is about walking the Camino and
is a wonderful movie.
This year will be my seventh year to travel to
England and Europe. Last year I was left
with a feeling that had accomplished all that I had wished, yet there was still
this pull in me to return. And, return I will with a new adventure in
mind and as before there will be not planning, no training, no nothing but the
DOING! This is the beginning of my 2012
travel journal and my road to traveling The Camino de Santiago de Compostela (The Way of
St James).
Friday, September 30, 2011
Monday, September 5, 2011
DEPRESSION
Days
go by slowly when you are moving about, but accomplishing absolutely nothing,
The vagueness of it all becomes a comfortable bed to lie in, Do not attempt to
struggle just move along from one moment to the next. Filling each with events of little or no
significant, cold or hot, wet or dry, dark or light, day or night the times are
as one. To look at one’s life like this is to get the impression of total
uselessness and utter frustration were it a possible feeling. But no feelings
are possible since there is a need to put forth some effort in order to be in
contact with them. Things are looked
forward to with no enthusiasm and once arrived at beheld with no wonderment.
One arises not because it’s time to accomplish some preset goal but rather to
do the expected. The expected can be what the person expects or thinks others
expect of the person. It is expected the person will go to work were the
mundane is common place. This person expects to make it through the day without
the necessarily a why; things just are.
If
another body happens to be lying in a shared bed upon arising it is noticed
with indifference. When one is not there no expectation for sex is felt and
that is fine. Eating is done for the sake of stopping the gas pains in the
stomach, but the excitement of different tastes is elusive.
Many
people pass before vacant eyes as one. Noticing only a certain few for a moment
they are then quickly forgotten. Things are done in a series of prerecorded
steps which never change. Showers, not baths, are done in ritualistic manner
like preparing for a sacrifice. Each day there is a sense that the person is
offering their body for sacrifice on the altar of insincerity which is relieved
daily without notice. The possibility is
that small parts which make the whole have died leaving an empty shell which
must wait until the correct chronological time to die comes.
There
are goals which are vague and somewhere ahead. There are so many that they run
together each looking for attention like several puppies might each wanting to
be petted. As a goal gains attention it
is followed until sidetracked, by some vague thought, then another takes its
place. In this way none are ever reached
and many reasons for ''why'' can be found. Career is a thing of the past and offers
an indefinite future. Others who pursue such an exacting mistress are mocked
with a knowing sneer. This mistress, like the spell drugs of addiction cast, is
difficult to become disentangled from once enchanted. Yet there are those who, through
circumstances, are thrown by the wayside never again to be in its company.
Strive as one might there is no regaining that particular bed ever again. Each
day is a long search for a way back into the arms which will never again
enfold. Soon the searcher becomes cynical and unfeeling. Of course this elusive
mistress is not the only one that has the ability to place you in living limbo.
Faded
memories of those who once arose passion, and then moved on, float daily
through his mind. Reflection is rejected and replaced with a guard so
impregnable even the one who created it cannot get through. So love is a memory stirred only by late show
movies which now seem trite where once they were the meaning of life. The magic
moment never comes, and happily ever after is the most hideous of jokes. New
people move in to positions created by memories and because they do not fit
pass from view. No remorse sets in any longer at the passing of those who were
briefly part of this so called life. Life denotes animation and involvement which
are things vaguely remembered when picture albums are reviewed with cold
squinting eyes. What is seen is registered only as points in time. The original
significant emotion reached to each lies deeply buried in the cemetery within a
mind guarded by never ending walls. The vicarious thrills of a movie or TV
program has no connection to life events and are as faded as clothes awaiting
cleaning in commercials.
His
eyes look deep into others unknowingly searching for the spark which may to
ignite spontaneity. There may be hope that a small glowing ember would again
kindle the flame of caring. This hope is not conscious but rather in a
catatonic state and if the ember by chance did come near it is doubtful it would
be recognized or responded to.
How
does one reach such a state?
THE WAY THINGS ARE...WHY?
When l returned to school, at the age
of forty, I was already ''older then dirt'' Most of the time I found myself
being asked for wisdom by younger classmates, In most classes there seemed to
be this belief that Carl had the answers, or should have them, or would get
them, I found some professors who would profess ultimate knowledge of why we,
each one of us, act/behave, think, feel, react, believe, etc., etc., the way we
do. Many exhibited various forms of distress at my seeming threat to their
leadership role after all I was only a ''student'' and a freshman at that. Many
of my young freshmen peer would sit taking notes imprinting the supposed
knowledge these professors would expound into their memory banks. It seemed to
me that the information speech had not been changed or updated in a very long
time. Each person seemed to believe, without question, the information given by
this all powerful giver of candle light.
One or two in the class would,
attempted to let sun light in by question using the ''why'' to the knowledge
givers, But, in order to receive the grade needed to pass, one did not question
beyond what was clearly acceptable to the professor, Slowly their individually
alike boxes were being formed about them; creativity stifled, The ideas passed
on in class after class offer views of how to correct the problems of
Twenty-first century humans based mostly on Nineteenth century ideas.
Expectations of how a person is to act were formed, according to what label is
applied. The label (diagnosis at times) does not insure recovery from a
particular dysfunction, and the label may perpetuate the prognosis.
Depression, as an example, may have
several epidemiological beginnings
yet the depressed person is, in order to be labeled (diagnosed) depressed, must
display certain behavioral criteria. Once an acceptable, to managed care
companies, diagnosis is made ''treatment'' can begin. Overtime these criteria
will either continue which will mean more treatment, or abate which will mean a
cure has been achieved. This is the basis for the medical model of wellness.
There is only one way a person can
get influenza and that is by being infected by the virus. If someone were to be
infected by an influenza virus they would be treated in a specific way. There
are not many cures for one particular disease. So each person who contracts an
influenza virus can expect to be treated the same way, Since mental Illness can
have many entomologic beginnings how can people with mental health problems all
be treated the same? Chemotherapy has replaced behavior therapy and
psychotherapy due to increased case load and cost of patient care. Warehousing
(mental institutions) was societies answer to giving rid of those that are
undesirable and cannot be boxed. This practice in effect for hundreds of years
ended in the nineteen seventies. Now we call them the ''Homeless'' and use bus
therapy on them.
These quick fix, band-aiding, of
those who suffer must be stopped and it is time to stop the oppression of those
who are different.
Friday, July 8, 2011
England 2011: The whole story with Pictures (all former posts and newer ones)
Saturday, May 14, 2011, 4:48:51
PM
However, I do get the trick is to overcome the fear of changing it. I had to laugh as she described me as putting on the John Wayne, Gary Cooper, Clint Eastwood façade of being in control of the situation hiding the timid, shy, and scared not in control me. We laughed as she rolled her eyes and asked “How many times have we been here.” So she sent me off to England for yet another spiritual quest. Indeed each trip has been a kind of spiritual awakening to heal the hurts, boost self-confidence, and connect with what messages I’ve been missing that God has been sending. We had a really good laugh as she pointed out that God has put messages right in front of my face, but fear has kept me from reacting as I’ve really want to.
So on Monday I’ll climb on the jet, with my friend Mark, and head off with the sinking feeling in my stomach that I should stay here. My head telling me that if by staying the day will be saved, all will be well, and everyone will live happily ever after. I’ll find a way to protect my kids from being hurt, or going down the wrong road. I’ll be able to fix my sisters pain from losing her husband and best friend. And, going back to the movie theme that after the trials and tribulations all problems are solved, and the hero rides off into the sunset with the heroine. Honestly! This may happen somewhere, but it has not happened for me.
Monday, May 16, 2011, 12:48:29 PM
Delta Airlines Flight 1546, 37,000 ft., currently over Oklahoma
On the way! We left Phoenix at 11:00 am currently almost two hours into the flight to Atlanta. So far so good as they say. Texted Son, Daughter and Claudia prior to taking off from Sky harbor. Had a very nice cab driver take us to the airport which reduced my worries about getting to the plane on time. Getting to the airport is always an anxious event for me. There is always this fear of missing the plane do to some unforeseen event on the Phoenix streets or highways. So until I’m in the terminal at the gate my nerves are a jangle. It does not matter whether or not it is a local flight or international I want to be at the airport long, very long, before it takes off.
My son was to take us to the airport, but after some discussion we decided that it would be better if I drove my car to Marks and we take a cab from there. Of course that puts me back in control of getting to Marks house on time. Having spent close to five years, running around Phoenix to every ER doing evaluations, makes me think that I can get places quicker the others. Reality is that it’s probably not a true thought, but it gives me the illusion of control. So many times, in my therapy practice, I talk with clients about the illusion of control most have. Long ago it became quite clear to me that letting go of attempting to control events around me make life easier. However, there are times that slipping back into that mode causes me much distress.
Controlling the environment, circumstances, and people in one’s life is pretty much an illusion. One can attempt to cover all the bases yet the universe may have a different idea which is called getting thrown a curve ball. Health issues, relationship changes, Divorce, Termination from a job, car breaking down etc… are all curve balls. Life was going along fine, than sometimes something happens to make it even better, them BAM! Everything changed in the blink of an eye leaving a mixed bag of unpleasant feelings. Like a rollercoaster up you go feeling great, happy, and hopeful then down you go depressed, sad and hurt, but you’re not done yet because HOPE jumps in to save the day. Up you go again only to realize there is no hope.
My world was rocked and I’m left with hope but nothing more. The only thing I could do differently is hide in my house not coming out unless I had to go somewhere. Kept to myself and not experience any of the wonder that was available for a short time. I could have attempted to control the situation and mold it into what I wanted it to be. This would have led to my attempting to manipulate in order to get my ends met, but not anyone else’s. I use to do that and found it wanting and still not in control. When I was a therapist I use to do an exercise with parents of Teens, and couples in relationships to help them understand that attempting to control rather than working together to reach a join resolution is not productive. But, one person can’t do that all involved need to be on board. It also helped them understand that sometimes you have to let go, move on, and be content with what was that can longer be. Sad, depressed, numb, and hurt are companions for a while leaving me thinking that I’ll never do this again.
But, someday I’ll be taken by surprise fine I opened myself up for this to happen again. Yet maybe, just maybe this time it will be different. Darn hope.
6:12:21 PM
Delta Fight over Atlanta:
We have left Atlanta heading to London. My seat mate is a professor of Art History in Kentucky who is heading to England to do research. Mark is across the aisle trying to stay awake until we are served our dinner. A few moments after sitting down the stewardess approached my set and asked if I were Mr. Cooke. My heart immediately began to pound surely bad news was to follow my acknowledgement. But it turned out to be a quite simple question of did I order a special meal which I had. I can’t wait to see what my non-dairy vegetarian meal tastes like. I had a nice pasta salad at the Atlanta airport so we’ll see how this goes. So far I’m sticking to eating healthier than ever before and certainly have more energy.
Dinner was fruit, Green salad, Vegetable medley, 9 grain bread, water, and Promise spread. Only thing I’m not sure of is the Promise spread other than that I think I did good. I’ll have to check about the Promise spread.
11:04:29 PM
That’s’ it until tomorrow. Good night, Gods speed, and Peace.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011, 10:29 am
Salisbury:
Arrived England two hours early flashed through customs, collected our bags and purchased a bus ticket to Salisbury. Originally we were to land in England at 11:00 am which meant 1/2 hour wait for the bus, but since we landed two hours early we now sat around for an 1 1/2. The bus ride is about one and a half hours, which gave us both a bit of dozing time before arriving in Salisbury. Every time I get off the bus here I am reminded of the first time I got off the bus with no idea where to go. I wandered around for about an hour before I found a map and headed off to the YHA. Today, without a second thought we picked up our 50 pound bags and off we went to the YHA. After checking in it was time to head to the retrieve our bikes.
My bike, for the sixth year was locked exactly where it had been deposited the year before. Mark’s bike however was no were to be found. My bikes, two of them, had four locks holding them in place to my dismay the keys in my pocket only unlocked two of them. Had I not brought all the keys with me? I racked my brain for what I had done with the other two keys. As we walked away from empty handed I hoped I’d not left the keys at home. This would mean cutting locks while being watched by CCTV cameras. I, slowly, remembered that I had put the keys on two separate key rings, but could only remember packing one of them. I have to return to the YHA and dig through my stuff. We stopped at a bike shop to check out prices and I was able to chat with Pip who helped my purchase my bike last year.
Back at the YHA I searched through all my bags emptying everything on to the floor of our teeny tinny room which sleeps four. No key in that bag, no key in that bag, no key in that bag only one left. I begin searching my handle bar bag nothing on the bottom now to empty out the side pockets. Keys! I found keys, wait these are the keys I already have one pocket left. At the very bottom of the last pocket I find the keys I need to unlock both bikes. Life is like that isn’t it? Searching for something in all the obvious places, then when we look in the least obvious place we fine gold. Some people spend a great deal of energy looking at thing right in front of their faces missing the gold that God has but around them. I’ve missed it time and time again.
It reminds me of a story about a wealthy prince in India who believed he was missing the most fabulous gem in the world. The story goes something like this he set off to find this gem. While he was searching his palace falls in to disrepair, his servants strip it bare using their new found wealth to build their own palace. His family had to use whatever money was left to buy food, but that soon ran out. One by one his family died and the palace was taken over little by little by the jungle. After the many years of useless searching the prince returns home only to fine ruin. He is in rags as he has spent the fortune he took with him to pay for his journey. He wanders around then falls to his knees in sorrow having found the graves of his family. He cries out “Why!” as he looks toward the sky. Slowly he lowers his head and as he does so notices a statue that has been in his yard forever. There imbedded in the statue is a huge gem. In fact it is the most precious gem in the world. But, it now means nothing as those thing that were really the most precious gems are now gone. Look around your “backyard” before you go off in search of things that can be found there.
After returning to the YHA with both my bikes we had dinner. While Mark was entertaining a group of kids from Cornwall I placed a call to Claudia to catch up on events of the last three days. Her laughter is intoxicating, and she always able to put a positive view on things. Our SKYPE call just ended when Mark returned with a picture of the group he had been telling a story to. I tracked down my daughter who was returning to Phoenix from Las Vegas then let my son, via Facebook; know that we had arrived safely. It had been a long somewhat stressful day time for bed.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011, 11:56 pm
Thursday, May 19, 2011, 8:23 pm
Salisbury:
Mark discovered a bump and torn sidewall on the front tire of my bike. Because of this my plan of heading to Southeast England has been put on hold. This morning after porridge and coffee at the Kings Head I stopped in at Stonehenge Cyclery to get a new tire. I spoke with Pip for a bit than asked Christopher to order me a tire called an Armadillo Cross Trail made by Specialized Bikes. It will take two days to get the tire delivered so I’m not going anywhere this week which is just as well. It is overcast today and quite windy again so don’t really feel like riding a fully packed bike in this weather. Really don’t feel like doing much of anything and am hoping that once I can get on the road this will pass. I’m allowing myself to do nothing right now in hopes of finding something to talk to my spirit.
Barns and Noble Glendale AZ
Next Monday I’ll be heading back
to England. Well maybe not just England,
maybe Austria and France again, maybe Ireland and Scotland? Lots of Maybe’s but that the story of my
life. Since August my world has been a
roller coaster ride. Today, as I sit
here writing, I’m not a happy camper currently filled with fear about what the
future has in store. I’m not focused, definitely
distracted and stuck. So I met with my
therapist today where after shedding some tears, sharing a few laughs we came
to the conclusion this is not a new place for me. I’ve sat in her office with the same story
only different charters, boy talk about not getting your process.However, I do get the trick is to overcome the fear of changing it. I had to laugh as she described me as putting on the John Wayne, Gary Cooper, Clint Eastwood façade of being in control of the situation hiding the timid, shy, and scared not in control me. We laughed as she rolled her eyes and asked “How many times have we been here.” So she sent me off to England for yet another spiritual quest. Indeed each trip has been a kind of spiritual awakening to heal the hurts, boost self-confidence, and connect with what messages I’ve been missing that God has been sending. We had a really good laugh as she pointed out that God has put messages right in front of my face, but fear has kept me from reacting as I’ve really want to.
So on Monday I’ll climb on the jet, with my friend Mark, and head off with the sinking feeling in my stomach that I should stay here. My head telling me that if by staying the day will be saved, all will be well, and everyone will live happily ever after. I’ll find a way to protect my kids from being hurt, or going down the wrong road. I’ll be able to fix my sisters pain from losing her husband and best friend. And, going back to the movie theme that after the trials and tribulations all problems are solved, and the hero rides off into the sunset with the heroine. Honestly! This may happen somewhere, but it has not happened for me.
The problems don’t magically disappear, and the heroine rides off into
the sunset with someone else. Mostly
because I’ve waited for some sign or message that will tell me it’s O.K. to
express my feelings. The message never
comes, I never express which equals no Hollywood ending. So I’ll go with my head, not to be confused
with intuition, creating fantasy of what will happen while I’m gone. Because you do know I have a crystal ball which
will tell me the future, yeah right
Monday, May 16, 2011, 12:48:29 PM
Delta Airlines Flight 1546, 37,000 ft., currently over Oklahoma
On the way! We left Phoenix at 11:00 am currently almost two hours into the flight to Atlanta. So far so good as they say. Texted Son, Daughter and Claudia prior to taking off from Sky harbor. Had a very nice cab driver take us to the airport which reduced my worries about getting to the plane on time. Getting to the airport is always an anxious event for me. There is always this fear of missing the plane do to some unforeseen event on the Phoenix streets or highways. So until I’m in the terminal at the gate my nerves are a jangle. It does not matter whether or not it is a local flight or international I want to be at the airport long, very long, before it takes off.
My son was to take us to the airport, but after some discussion we decided that it would be better if I drove my car to Marks and we take a cab from there. Of course that puts me back in control of getting to Marks house on time. Having spent close to five years, running around Phoenix to every ER doing evaluations, makes me think that I can get places quicker the others. Reality is that it’s probably not a true thought, but it gives me the illusion of control. So many times, in my therapy practice, I talk with clients about the illusion of control most have. Long ago it became quite clear to me that letting go of attempting to control events around me make life easier. However, there are times that slipping back into that mode causes me much distress.
Controlling the environment, circumstances, and people in one’s life is pretty much an illusion. One can attempt to cover all the bases yet the universe may have a different idea which is called getting thrown a curve ball. Health issues, relationship changes, Divorce, Termination from a job, car breaking down etc… are all curve balls. Life was going along fine, than sometimes something happens to make it even better, them BAM! Everything changed in the blink of an eye leaving a mixed bag of unpleasant feelings. Like a rollercoaster up you go feeling great, happy, and hopeful then down you go depressed, sad and hurt, but you’re not done yet because HOPE jumps in to save the day. Up you go again only to realize there is no hope.
My world was rocked and I’m left with hope but nothing more. The only thing I could do differently is hide in my house not coming out unless I had to go somewhere. Kept to myself and not experience any of the wonder that was available for a short time. I could have attempted to control the situation and mold it into what I wanted it to be. This would have led to my attempting to manipulate in order to get my ends met, but not anyone else’s. I use to do that and found it wanting and still not in control. When I was a therapist I use to do an exercise with parents of Teens, and couples in relationships to help them understand that attempting to control rather than working together to reach a join resolution is not productive. But, one person can’t do that all involved need to be on board. It also helped them understand that sometimes you have to let go, move on, and be content with what was that can longer be. Sad, depressed, numb, and hurt are companions for a while leaving me thinking that I’ll never do this again.
But, someday I’ll be taken by surprise fine I opened myself up for this to happen again. Yet maybe, just maybe this time it will be different. Darn hope.
6:12:21 PM
Delta Fight over Atlanta:
We have left Atlanta heading to London. My seat mate is a professor of Art History in Kentucky who is heading to England to do research. Mark is across the aisle trying to stay awake until we are served our dinner. A few moments after sitting down the stewardess approached my set and asked if I were Mr. Cooke. My heart immediately began to pound surely bad news was to follow my acknowledgement. But it turned out to be a quite simple question of did I order a special meal which I had. I can’t wait to see what my non-dairy vegetarian meal tastes like. I had a nice pasta salad at the Atlanta airport so we’ll see how this goes. So far I’m sticking to eating healthier than ever before and certainly have more energy.
Dinner was fruit, Green salad, Vegetable medley, 9 grain bread, water, and Promise spread. Only thing I’m not sure of is the Promise spread other than that I think I did good. I’ll have to check about the Promise spread.
11:04:29 PM
That’s’ it until tomorrow. Good night, Gods speed, and Peace.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011, 10:29 am
Salisbury:
Arrived England two hours early flashed through customs, collected our bags and purchased a bus ticket to Salisbury. Originally we were to land in England at 11:00 am which meant 1/2 hour wait for the bus, but since we landed two hours early we now sat around for an 1 1/2. The bus ride is about one and a half hours, which gave us both a bit of dozing time before arriving in Salisbury. Every time I get off the bus here I am reminded of the first time I got off the bus with no idea where to go. I wandered around for about an hour before I found a map and headed off to the YHA. Today, without a second thought we picked up our 50 pound bags and off we went to the YHA. After checking in it was time to head to the retrieve our bikes.
My bike, for the sixth year was locked exactly where it had been deposited the year before. Mark’s bike however was no were to be found. My bikes, two of them, had four locks holding them in place to my dismay the keys in my pocket only unlocked two of them. Had I not brought all the keys with me? I racked my brain for what I had done with the other two keys. As we walked away from empty handed I hoped I’d not left the keys at home. This would mean cutting locks while being watched by CCTV cameras. I, slowly, remembered that I had put the keys on two separate key rings, but could only remember packing one of them. I have to return to the YHA and dig through my stuff. We stopped at a bike shop to check out prices and I was able to chat with Pip who helped my purchase my bike last year.
Back at the YHA I searched through all my bags emptying everything on to the floor of our teeny tinny room which sleeps four. No key in that bag, no key in that bag, no key in that bag only one left. I begin searching my handle bar bag nothing on the bottom now to empty out the side pockets. Keys! I found keys, wait these are the keys I already have one pocket left. At the very bottom of the last pocket I find the keys I need to unlock both bikes. Life is like that isn’t it? Searching for something in all the obvious places, then when we look in the least obvious place we fine gold. Some people spend a great deal of energy looking at thing right in front of their faces missing the gold that God has but around them. I’ve missed it time and time again.
It reminds me of a story about a wealthy prince in India who believed he was missing the most fabulous gem in the world. The story goes something like this he set off to find this gem. While he was searching his palace falls in to disrepair, his servants strip it bare using their new found wealth to build their own palace. His family had to use whatever money was left to buy food, but that soon ran out. One by one his family died and the palace was taken over little by little by the jungle. After the many years of useless searching the prince returns home only to fine ruin. He is in rags as he has spent the fortune he took with him to pay for his journey. He wanders around then falls to his knees in sorrow having found the graves of his family. He cries out “Why!” as he looks toward the sky. Slowly he lowers his head and as he does so notices a statue that has been in his yard forever. There imbedded in the statue is a huge gem. In fact it is the most precious gem in the world. But, it now means nothing as those thing that were really the most precious gems are now gone. Look around your “backyard” before you go off in search of things that can be found there.
After returning to the YHA with both my bikes we had dinner. While Mark was entertaining a group of kids from Cornwall I placed a call to Claudia to catch up on events of the last three days. Her laughter is intoxicating, and she always able to put a positive view on things. Our SKYPE call just ended when Mark returned with a picture of the group he had been telling a story to. I tracked down my daughter who was returning to Phoenix from Las Vegas then let my son, via Facebook; know that we had arrived safely. It had been a long somewhat stressful day time for bed.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011, 11:56 pm
Salisbury:
Mark buys a bike after much
searching the stores here. It will be
awhile before the bike is ready so we wander around town. We end up in Poundland, of course, pick up
some absolutely necessary things then head to the Kings Head Pub. I spend some time cleaning up my bike so it
is ready to go. After picking up Marks
new bike we ride a little bit then it’s back to the YHA to get things packed so
they are ready to load on the bikes.
Spent another day at the YHA to
finish getting things in order to be able to ride and camp. Tomorrow we will move to the campgrounds and
I begin doing my Stewarding for the Festival.
My second bike is now completely put back together and I’ll attempt to
sell it on Saturday at the town market.
Dinner: Breakfast: Lunch:
Precooked rice = 1.05 Cantaloupe
= 2/2.50 Avocados
= 3/1.00
Stir Fry veg = 1.79 x4
breakfasts = .62 per meal. Cherries
= 1lb/1.00
Total 2.84 1
Avocado and cherries = 1.33
Made 3 meals = .95 pence a meal
Friday, May 22, 2011, 11:15 am:
Salisbury:
Today moved to campground after
getting everything packed into panniers.
Mark suggested that we take trial ride with the packed bikes so off we
went. Mark managed to ride into a hedge and
fall over, but was not hurt. He was not
distracted by a woman, but a horse.
Other than that the ride went well and we made good time should be able
to cover more distance this year. We
arrive at the campground and receive a warm welcome from Nigel and Wendy. We
are told our corner, where we set up our tens, is waiting for us.. By the time we set up I had to race off to
the cathedral for my first volunteering stint.
I spend 2:30 to 5:00 pm in the entrance of the cloisters to be available
to answer questions about the performance going on there. Mark pays me a visit and we make plans for
dinner. Joined Mark for dinner at the Kings Head Pub
prior to the next event.
I found on the menu a Vegan dish
of one of my favorite meals in England; sausage and Mash. They had meatless sausages which were quite
good, mashed potatoes, and a very tasty cider.
No butter or milk used to make the mashed potatoes. Now off to the market place for the beginning
night of the festival. After a bit of
direction I was paired up with two very nice ladies Megan and Kate. We were to guard the fencing around a sound
booth and one of the spot lights. We had
a great time chatting, watching the show, Kate helped a person who swooned, and
I attempted to chase a person who had climbed up on the stoplight platform,
only to find out she was a member of the press. The show itself is composed of
a group from Chili who preform after being hoisted in the air by a crane. All in all it was a very enjoyable
night.
Saturday, May 21, 2011, 11:15 am:
Salisbury:
Today is town market day and
hopefully at good day to sell my old bike.
After moving around town to different spots we give up. After dinner we managed to get the bike out
to the campground where it now sits in front of the office for sale. In between I talked to my daughter then
headed to one the events I was to volunteer at.
However, I ended up being almost an hour late. Upon arriving one of the Stewarts sent me to
the spot I was to work. There I met
Megan again who had volunteered to fill in for me as they thought I was not
going to show up. Her partner was quite
put out by my late appearance and made sure all knew it was just not
proper. I surely thought she would have
me taken out behind the Cathedral and flogged.
She reminded me of the times I’d
been so inflexible, demanding all go just as it was suppose to. A time of being very put out by those who did
not follow the rules, or arrive on time so to speak. There are times that I catch myself still
doing this behavior. I’m sure now that
this is part of the funk I find myself in. Things are supposed to turn out, or go a
certain way and I don’t want to repaint my picture yet again. The canvas is extremely heavy do to the lays
of repainting. Will there ever be a time
I don’t have to repaint the picture?
That all will be as what was painted?
I know how to do that just paint a safe picture with me surrounded by
fences and walls that should do it.
Sunday, May 22, 2011, 11:15 am:
Salisbury:
Mark is off to Canterbury and
then Amsterdam today. We were up early
so he could get packed and to the station in time to catch his 10 A.M.
train. He would have to get off the
train and bus part of the way to his destination. Also, he’d have to ride across London to get
from one train station to the other. He
let me know later in the day that he had arrived safely with little problems. After he left I rode around town looking for a
new front tire, but had no luck. There
is not much open in Salisbury on Sundays.
Went back to the campground took a nap then headed into town to spend
time at the Kings head making SKYPE calls.
Spoke to my mother, Daughter and son catching up on doing here and there. Today my son was holding a one year birthday
party for my granddaughter Rebecca.
After that it was time to see the new Pirates of the Caribbean movie.
Monday, May 23, 2011, 6:07 AM
Arizona, 2:07 pm EnglandSalisbury:
Mark discovered a bump and torn sidewall on the front tire of my bike. Because of this my plan of heading to Southeast England has been put on hold. This morning after porridge and coffee at the Kings Head I stopped in at Stonehenge Cyclery to get a new tire. I spoke with Pip for a bit than asked Christopher to order me a tire called an Armadillo Cross Trail made by Specialized Bikes. It will take two days to get the tire delivered so I’m not going anywhere this week which is just as well. It is overcast today and quite windy again so don’t really feel like riding a fully packed bike in this weather. Really don’t feel like doing much of anything and am hoping that once I can get on the road this will pass. I’m allowing myself to do nothing right now in hopes of finding something to talk to my spirit.
I sorted out my money which
helped me feel better about being here as I am quite worried about having
enough for the trip this year. In
November I resigned from 227 Tax Service dba as H & R Block after ten years
of working the Block stores in Flagstaff.
The new owners refused to protect me from the under handed attacks by a
co-worker. They refused to protect a
female employee in his store, and verbal abuse of other employees. So it was time for me to head on down the
road into my own business. This was not
something I ever expected to be doing again, but with the help of my friend
Lisa and her partner Gene it’s a done deal.
My new office is in one of Flagstaff’s historic buildings. When my customers came in they did nothing
but rave about the building. The tax
season turned out to be not as good as I’d hoped for. I was sad to leave my friends at Block, but
soon found out that I only had one real friend there. We are in contact and will get together upon
my return from this trip.
I’ve been very sad, this trip and
I think this is one of the reasons for the sadness I put a lot of myself into makeing the Block
stores successful only to have someone undermine everything, and the owners
reduce the stores to nothing but tax return mills. Everyone is expected to churn out 600 to 700
returns, and are allowed to take as many returns for themselves with no though
for the others in the office. The owners
put nothing back into the community, taking as much as they can. I am so glad I’m not working there any
longer.
So many things happened since
last November that has caused me to sink into this grand funk. First my son-in-law decided he no longer
wanted to be married. He expounded on
the reasons he no longer wished to be married which ended being a cover for the
real reason. He’d had a girlfriend for
some time now and wanted to be with her.
Sadly this caused my daughter and grandchildren great distress. Then my brother-in-law was diagnosed with
brain cancer and given about six months to live. I’ve known Victor since he was seventeen and
was very much more a brother then brother-in-law. Vic, my sister and their daughter Laura made
the trip from Florida to California via car.
Victor wanted to spend what time he had left with his daughters and
grandchildren. My son and daughter
wanted to see their uncle before he passed so I made a trip with each of them
to California. My daughter and I made
yet another trip for his memorial service.
My former wife fell out of her
car in October breaking her foot. This
caused her to end up in a rehabilitation facility in order to regain strength
in her legs and get some other health problems under control. She was expected to regain her mobility and
return home. However, the first week in
January she took a turn for the worst and I received a call from my son on
January 9th she had died. We
set about making arrangements for the funeral and setting up room for friends
and family who were arriving. My former
wife had a lot of friends and most showed up at the memorial service. My children and grandchildren will hurt a
long time from her loss. Within two
weeks I had two people with whom I had spent the better part of my life ripped
from the world. So many major losses not
to mention several other events happening during that time have taken their
toll.
As I said my therapist as
suggested that I take the trip in the hopes of having yet again a spiritual
renewal. So far not much of anything
happening which hopefully will change once my new tire arrives, or will I find
yet another reason not to move from this spot?
As usual when I look around, and pay attention there is God talking to
me though people, places and things.
When I pay attention understanding begins to take place
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Salisbury:
Went for a ride just to see how
long it would take to get there. Stopped
into the camp office and talked to Nigel who printed me a map showing the route
to Danebury Hill Fort. I figure the tire
will hold out for a short ride because I’m only going 16 miles. First oops!
Actually according to the map I’d be going 30 miles round trip. However the map does not take into account
getting misplaced from time to time.
Seems that the way of things you have the map all set then you get
misplaced due to one thing or the other.
I leave the campground at 2:45 pm
thinking I can ride a bit then turn back whenever I want. Along the way I’m passed by a group of bike
riders on sleek racing bikes. Why is it
that everyone passes me by? I begin to
speed up then remind myself that the tire is bad, and I’m in no rush to get
anywhere.
They hit a hill and begin to slow
down one actually gets off his bike and walks up the hill. Not me I ride up reaching the top at the same
time they do. My head tells me this will cost you I check my map and
head off as they rest. At the next
intersection one of the riders pulls up to me and asks directions. Ha Ha!
I’ve got a map they don’t, knowingly I give directions. He asks where I’m heading “We’re not going
that far” says he. About an hour into
the ride I stop and look at the map.
Looks like I’m about half way there no
problem. Stopping again to check the
map I spy a back way to my destination.
This is great as I’m riding on a very busy road with car zipping by very
close to me. After a couple of oops I’m
on a road that could be the right one.
By now I’ve gone up and down about 10 hills all of which have been very
steep.
The road ends at a “T” and
looking around for direction signs there are none to be found. I’ve been on the riding two hours now and am
faced with which way to go as this could not be the road I think it is. Well I’ll pretend it is so off I go. Half hour later I arrive at the Danebury Iron
Age Hill Fort elated. Now to return back
to the campground via a different route so I try to avoid the busy road that
got me here. It is now four hours into
the ride and I stop to check the map.
This is not going well my little detour is going to require more time
gong back the coming. I ride on and have
now climbed about 20 hills of very long and steep duration. My legs are getting tired but I tell myself
no problem. Five hours and maybe 24
hills later it looks like I’m still an hour from the campground. I’m walking up the hills and costing down the
other side. I remember my first ride
here when I could no longer ride and walked about 20 steps at a time.
I can do this, this is not then. So back on the bike I clime and look for that
second wind I’ve heard about. Nope no
second wind as I walk up the last hill, well I think it’s the last hill. I’m passed by to other riders and tell myself
they have not ridden as far as I have makes
me feel better anyway. So back on the
bike and ride the last hill slow and steady reaching the campground six hours
after I started. Takes longer then you
think to get there, sometimes doing things differently is not the answer, you
can always make it one way or the other
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Salisbury:
Tire arrived! After sitting in the sun this morning
enjoying a breakfast of fresh bananas, Strawberries and soy milk it was off to
town to pick up my new tire. Coffee at
Starbucks while checking and sending emails then on to Facebook to see what the
rest of the world is up to. Lunch time
found me back at the campground working on the bike as the sun started to be
blocked out by the clouds.
Thursday, May 26, 2011, 4:57 pm:
Salisbury:
Rain, Rain go away come again
another day! Sun shine when I awake which slowly turns to
overcast, then rain and wind. I spend the better part of the day at the
Kings Head Pub writing and planning routes on my computer.
Friday, May 27, 2011, 2:00 pm:
Salisbury:
More overcast, more wind and some
rain thrown in. Just killing time and
becoming frustrated at doing nothing which is not lifting my spirits at
all. Kings Head to Starbucks to King
Head is what this day is made up of.
Saturday, May 28, 2011, 6:00 pm:
Today I’m to work the Cathedral
again. Yesterday an email was sent out
stating that functions at the Cathedral required a suit, little late for that,
tie etc… The answer I received, after
writing back that all I had was a white shirt and dark pants as stated in the original
dress code email, was not to worry all will be fine. I hurry to the Cathedral to take up my
station and am there one hour early. I
take up my station at where I think I’m supposed to be and wonder why there is
no one to relieve. I pick up a Festival
brochure and see that there are two events with the same name. It appears the one I’m to be at is in the
Cathedral not in the Cloisters.
Shit I’m late now. I’m five
minutes late to the check in and John,
the head Stewart, is already giving out information. He looks at me and asks if there was anything
he could do for me. “I yours” is my
reply to which he rolls his eyes. Smile, play nice, I tell myself. “Right and you are?” he says. After telling him my name he rustles through
some papers hands me a couple of sheets along with a badge and returns to
giving instructions. Meanwhile an older
gentleman smile’s at me and says “This is the fellow for Arizona.” I smile to all, but across from me is the grumpy
puss lady for the other evening. She
does not smile and my heart aches to think how hard it must be to live in her
unsmiling world. I take up my post at the main door and do as
the instruction sheet tells me. I greet
everyone, hold the door, and answer questions of which most I guess at. I’m at the main door; I’m the first one
everyone sees as they come in for their tickets. I’m
quite surprised that I’ve not been placed on the back door or something of the
like. But, nope I’m here right out front
and certainly not dressed as the rest of the stewards are. No suit, no tie, no socks, however, the dress
code did not call for socks.
The show starts and after ten
minutes I’m allowed to leave my post and enter the Cathedral to watch the
show. I’m motioned to come in by one of
the other Stewards so I do and sit.
Grumpy puss lady is across from me scowling. The show finished and I stand to take my
place with the rest of the Stewards, however John walks over and says “I’ll
have you badge now.” Oh my being
drummed out to the service. As I head
toward the doors the two stewards standing there say to me “That was very rude
of John.” I smile and say “It is what it
is.” As I turn to leave I think No he is not going to get away with
this.” I find him and say “Might I
have a word in private.” Of course he’s
very busy but consents “John I’m sorry. I’m not here to cause problems. I told Helen, who sent out the email, that I
had no suit. She told me it would be
fine. If you have a problem I suggest you take it up with her.” He looks me up and down and says “That’s the
problem with the Festival people. We at
the Cathedral just don’t dress that way.
I sure if you when to something like this in the states you’d not fine
anyone dressed like you.” My answer
“John I go to Plays, Operas, and Symphonies dressed like this. We do things different in Arizona and are not
quite so uptight. Again I’m sorry I’ve offended you I’m here just trying to
help out don’t mean to cause you problems. I understand you may be shorthanded
for the second show and am willing to help if needed.” He tells me there is no need for me to
stay. I shake his hand and leave. Again on the way out the two of the other steward’s
comment on how rude he was.
I’m sad for John and Grumpy puss to
have to live in such a tight world. I
enjoyed the performance as it is always wonderful to here song in the
Cathedral.
Sunday, May 29, 2011, 1:00 pm:
Salisbury:
I’m up and begin to get my stuff
ready to pack for my trip tomorrow.
After shower I’m off to the Cathedral for a Sunday service. This is probably the only church service I go
to and usually there is a message for me.
I enter the Cathedral and head toward the Stewards pick up a program,
then I head to my usual seat in the Choir.
I see John presumable giving directions as he is the head of the
Cathedral Stewards. As I begin to
settle in to my seat John approaches me, is
he going to hassle me again, I think.
I smile. He approaches then
reaches out to shake my hand. He does
his best to make up for last night asking me about my travels. When I tell him this is my usual seat when
attending services he’s surprised at the number of years I’ve been coming to
the Cathedral. We have made up, I smile.
I have some lunch then head back
to the campground to meet Tim who has offered to drive me out to the Kite
event. We arrived to kites already in
the sky. I’m given parking lot directing
duty with a former Salisbury Police inspector who now lives in Scotland. I have a fund time stopping the cars and then
directing them where to park. Everyone
is polite and do as directed. I’m
relieved for my parking lot duty and return to the top of the hill which now is
loaded with families having a great time flying kites. It is fun watching these families enjoying
this simple past time. The cost of
admission was 5 pounds which includes a kite if needed. I’m requested to join three kite flyers from
china as they are going to fly a very long Dragon kite.
Before the Dragon kite takes to
the air I’m amazed to see that the cords attached to it look to be ¼ inch nylon
rope. After the kite takes to the air I
find out why. I’m allowed to fly the
kite hanging on for dear life. It feels
as if it will lift me off the ground there is so much pull on the line. This kite had to be about 30 ft. long and
made only of bamboo strips and rice paper.
In the air you’d think it was made of steel. This was a six hour event that when by very
quickly as we were all having grand fun.
Upon returning to the campground it was time for doing a wash and
packing the bike for my trip tomorrow.
Monday, May 30, 2011, 6:00 am:
Salisbury to Attleborough via
London and Cambridge:
After breaking camp it was time
to head to the train station to purchase a ticket for Attleborough. Now I’ve done this trip maybe four years
ago. I’m doing it again because the
pictures taken were all lost due to a computer clinch just after
returning. This is the area where my
Father was stationed during WW II. I had
tracked down what was left of the airfield he had flown out of and was out to
do it again so I could recapture the pictures lost. The train would take me to London Waterloo
station, from there I’d have to bike across London to Kings Cross Station where
the next train would take me to Cambridge.
Upon arriving in Cambridge I’d change trains to Attleborough.
Arriving at Waterloo it’s time
for the loo and directions after which I’m off to Kings Cross. This
seems to be a different route then the last time I’m thinking riding down
London streets with a fully packed bike.
People do tend to stare. Arriving
at gate 6 I watch the train pull away from the station, darn loo stop. The nice station person tell we it will be
and hour before the next train so I take the time to rearrange some stuff, chat
with a fellow about my bike and the load its carrying. It is amazing how many folks I’ve talked to
who are thinking about doing what I’m doing.
I give them my card telling them that reading my blog might help get
them ready for the adventure. It’s time
to board the train to Attleborough via Cambridge.
After the switch in Cambridge I
begin to think that I’d not taken the train to Attleborough, but to
Thetford. I’m remembering this because I
when to the Halfords in Thetford so I must have ridden to the campground from
there. After getting off the train at
Thetford it’s time to figure out which way to go to get to the campground. I have a vague memory of being here, get off
to a false start then get my bearing and Oh
yes this I remember. Riding brings
back some dim memories of the last time I rode here. Only four years ago and most of the memories
of the place and ride are gone. It is
about three in the afternoon when I arrive at the Thetford Forest Campground.
I’d stayed in this campground
four years ago when it first opened.
Then there were two gentlemen running the place both of whom seem to no
longer here. There are now six people
running the campground who vaguely remember those fellows “What were their
names?” They ask each other. I’m giving a spot about as far from the
block house has you can get. After
setting up it’s time for a quick dinner as rain clouds are moving in. The rain begins and it is time to get some
shut eye.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011, 11:00 am:
Thetford Forest Campground to
Attleborough and Dapham Green:
Up early and on my way to
Attleborough via back roads and not highways.
Again my memory is somewhat hazy things look familiar only just. There is a nice fellow walking his grandkid
down the road. After inquiring he gives
me directions and I’m off. About an hour
later I arrive in Attleborough and ride around the town. Finding the post office and take its picture,
then a Saintsbury where dinner is to be found, then to the local church. Oh half a moe here’s the coffee shop that had
Wi-Fi the last time I was here. “Nope
there’s no Wi-Fi here.” She says as I
order coffee and carrot cake which is quite good. Now it
is time to relax, read the paper, eat my cake and drink my coffee. When finished it will be time to ride to the
airfield and retake my pictures there.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011, 11:00
am:
Attleborough to Cambridge
Broke camp and rode into Attleborough
to catch the train back to Salisbury.
Upon arriving in town it occurred to me to stop and have a coffee. So after hitching my bike to a rail I head to
the coffee shop. Arriving at the door
there are two prams blocking the door attempting to get in. Now this is the same coffee shop from
yesterday and it’s not the biggest place.
So after getting inside I find a lady with a pram leaving or at lease
putting hers outside. I enter the
backroom where I know there is a plug to charge the computer battery. In there I find two more prams and of course
each has a baby of some size in it.
There are now no less than six mothers and nine kids stuffed into this
small room. I smile sit and plug in
while I wait for my coffee and carrot cake to arrive. I stay here for about a half hour then head
over to the train station.
I’m thinking of spending the
night at a campground there and head back to Salisbury on Friday. Since I have the time there’s no need to be
back in Salisbury until Saturday. As I
ride up to the station the cars are stopped and backed up down the road. There are two large gates blocking the cars
from crossing the tracks. After finding
the correct platform I look around and again see the gates blocking the cars
from crossing the tracks. A train whips
through the station and I expect the gates to open automatically open. Across the there is a building that sits high
up with windows all around much like a control tower at an airport, not quite
as high. From the building a trainman
come out the door runs down the steps and manually opens both gates then runs
back up the stairs into the control tower.
About five minutes later he comes out again closes the gates and goes
back in the tower. The Train passes out
he come down the steps opens the grates and back up the steps.
I’ve got about a 45 minute wait
for the train and during that time this fellow runs up and down those stairs
about ten times. He reminds me of figures
in a clock that pop out one door and back in another when the hour is
struck. I can’t imagine doing that for
eight hours a day, five days a week. But
then again sometimes my life has been like that. Gotten into a doing the same things over and
over get comfortable doing it, and become kind of like the man at the rail
station. Then become fearful of changing
the routine for whatever reasons.
Sometimes events happen that push towards the need for change but are
resisted even when that little voice tells you move on.
Off the train in Cambridge and
it’s off to fine the campground. After
requesting directions to the general vicinity of the campground it’s time to
ride my bike in Cambridge. Now I thought
Oxford had a large bike parking lot at the train station, but this one is three
times as big. Riding down the street I
begin to notice bike parked along almost every inch of fence or wall. Bike fly by, car fly my on the road leading
out of the station. I’m getting to be
really good at riding in cities and being right out there on the road with
busses and cars. At times I follow other
bike riders to learn the ropes not that they are doing the correctly.
After a bit of a ride I find the
campground and after setting up I’m off to ride about Cambridge less my
panniers. The closer I get to town
center the more bikes go zipping by along with cars and trucks. They weave in and out fearless of the
vehicle’s size or speed. Now I’m liking
this reminds me for driving in Manhattan.
So I start zipping also busses inches from my rear wheel down the road
we go. You have got to watch those
corners bike riders just pop out hardly looking left or right. I’m not speeding just riding along with
everyone passing me by like I’m standing still.
But, no one blows there horn or yells.
I ride around for a bit up and down very narrow streets. I find the town market and near by a
Starbucks. Time for a little
computering.
Starbucks here has a new Soy
Strawberry and “cream” drink. So I ask
if there is any dairy in it and am told there is not so time to try one. These are very good I could get hooked on
these. Sitting at a bench my bike is
tied outside to a section of post I manage to find. Everything that a bike can be attached to has
one. Mark was here already and told me
about the bikes and riding in this city but you have to experience it. It’s time to head back to the campground for
dinner and some rest. Tomorrow I’m gona do some serious riding in
this town because it is fun like an amusement park ride I think heading
back to the campground.
Thursday, June 2, 2011, 9:00 am
Up early and I’m ready to
ride. Cambridge here I come! I’ve spied a bike path that that’s you
directly to city center down I go.
Peddling around a corner brings me head to head with a herd of
cows. No way in the middle of a city,
in a park blocking the path is a herd of cows.
Carefully I walk around them and am off to Starbucks for a coffee and
some internet catching up. Now it’s
time for some serious riding the streets of Cambridge. With reckless, abandon, whipping up this
street, then down the next one heading nowhere, but ending up seeing some
interesting sites. After passing Kings
College, Queens College, Christ’s College, and two vast parks with bike paths
chris-crossing them and finally ending up in front of the Cambridge Press book
store.
While surfing the book shelves I
find book after book to read. I must stop reading all the paperbacks and
start reading these. Then I look at
the prices and remember why I reading $5+ pulp books and not these. There are some 5 pound books here, a special
selection, none of which, of course, interest me. But
the history, psychology, Linguistics, religion and Science books oh my I want
the all. Well not buying them here at
the pound price when I can get them in them for dollars at home. Finding a Wetherspoons I decide to have
dinner here so I can do some more riding around on this glories armament
ride. The weather is warm, the sun is
out, and it is a beautiful day to be playing here. For a short while the nagging of what I
should be doing and where I should be.
My spirits fill from time to time
especially during time like these.
However, I find myself not smiling much these days and know this has to
do with my wants than anything else.
From time to time all that comes to mind is to go home. Go home to what, to do what, I guess to find
some of what has been lost, which might be lost only in my mind. Realities come to me that make my no happier,
but need to be paid attention to. It is time to return to the campground for
some sleep. Tomorrow I’ll pack and ride
through Cambridge fully loaded as I’ve decided to return to Cambridge Print
Bookstore for at least one book.
Friday, June 3, 2011, 11:00 am
Today finds me up at 6 am, packed
and on the road to Cambridge. People
staring at my fully loaded bike is nothing new, other bike riders coming up
alongside me to ask were I’m heading or where have I been are not new. Going back to the Cambridge Print bookstore
and buying a book which is not pulp fiction is new. It is also something I’ll be doing more of,
but at the price there may be fewer books to read. In Starbucks I’m reading my new book with
coffee rather than internetting. I’m
going to stop typing now and go back to my book.
Saturday, June 4, 2011, 11:00 am
Salisbury: Closing Night of the
Festival
This morning starts off with my
doing wash at the campground. I get
things organized as I’ll not have time tonight because I’ll be working at the
Closing Night. Tomorrow I’ll leave early
to meet up with Mark in Canterbury. Around noon I ride into the town marked to get
some fruit and look around for some bungee cords. There may be a way to hold my panniers on
other than the system they came with. I hang out at the King Head then it is time to
return to the campground and put on my working clothes and head to the
Cathedral.
I arrive early and manage to run
into a garbage truck alone the way. My
bike is fine but I’ve managed to put a dent in this huge machine. The driver looks down and me and I motion to
him all is well riding on quickly. The
volunteer begin showing up after which the meeting starts to tell us our
contributions to making the evening a success.
There are two shifts and since I want to see all the entertainment on
closing night I’m here early. I’m asked
if I mind starting early to which I agree.
Its fun walking around the grounds helping people find places to relieve
themselves or fill themselves. Several
people look at me after I’ve answered then state “You’re not English.” My answer to each with a surprised look on my
face is “How could you tell?” We laugh,
chat and move on.
My last position of the night is
directing traffic out to the close at the end.
I meet the head of security an ex-police inspector who “got tired of
rolling around on the floor with drunks...”
We have a great talk waiting for the festival to end. We then begin to stop traffic attempting to
leave the close as we’ve been told all pedestrians leave before cars. Most wait patiently, but some are special and
expect to be able to leave sooner. When
I explain to them quietly in my best New Yorkease “Ya ani’t gon nowhere til I
says!” most sit quietly and wait. It is
time to let the cars out and our job for the evening is finished. Anna from the Festival office comes walking
out and gives me a big hug as she’s on her way home. My evening is complete.
Sunday, June 5, 2011, 8:27 am
Salisbury to Canterbury:
Arrived at the train station an
hour early to catch a train from Salisbury to Clapton Junction where I’ll change
trains for Victoria Station where I’ll change again for a direct train to
Canterbury. Arriving in Canterbury an
hour early on a rainy day I head for the town center to see if I can find
Mark. After having a coffee at Starbucks
and using the wireless to see if Mark was online somewhere in town. I can’t fine him so I’ll head ou to the campground
we stayed at last year. Arriving at the
campground I find that Mark has not yet arrived. I get
us a spot and begin to wonder where he might be as he was to be here before
already.
Just as I’m finishing setting up
my tent Mark arrives after riding down from Sandwich. It is good to see him and now for the rest to
the trip we’ll be riding together. He
has spent the better part of three weeks in Holland ending up in Calais where
he ferried across to Dover. It had
stopped raining for a while but as Mark begins to set up it starts again. We share some stories of our time apart and
since it is a rainy, drizzly day and we decide to have dinner in town. After a nice dinner, then spending some time
on the internet we decide its time to head back to the campground for a night’s
sleep.
Monday, June 6, 2011,
Canterbury:
Mark is up before me and decides
to head into town where I’ll meet him in a bit for breakfast. After breakfast we roam around Canterbury
during brief times of sun, but mostly rain or overcast. Then it’s time for lunch, a bit more
sightseeing before with head for a supermarket to purchase the makings of
dinner. Back to the campground, rain has
stopped, sun is out we enjoy our dinner and plan to ride to Hasting which
should take us about two days. First
we’ll ride to Ashford, spend the evening then on to Rye or Hastings. I’ve mapped out the round and found a
campground in Ashford which should be easy to find.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011, 9:00 pm
Canterbury to Ashford
Bikes loaded we had out to
Ashford. The ride is filled with up the
hill and down the hill which covered 25 miles of country lanes. We had agreed to follow the National Bike
Route to get to point “B.” Arriving at Ashford we stop at a Wetherspoons for
lunch then off to the campground. We
don’t get too far before the course decided on can’t seem to be found. As we stand on the corner a fellow rides up
and asks us where we want to go. After a
bit of explaining the route to us he must have thought there is no way these
guys are going to find the campground.
He tells us to follow him and he will take us to the campground, but first
he has an errand to do. So he sends us
off down the road and tells us he’ll catch up to us. Yeah
right I think.
We reach the end of his
directions and are about to strike off on our own when he does indeed show
up. So we follow him across the street,
then down that street, across the street again round and round she goes and
where she stops nobody knows. At last
we arrive at not a campground, but a Holiday Park after checking in we set up
our tents being very excited that we have a picknick table, a rare thing in
English campgrounds, to have dinner on. We
have a pleasant dinner and I enjoy some nice Italian wine Mark has purchased
for me. There is Wi-Fi here so we
purchase a day’s use for 5 pounds. After some searching we find the best place
to use it is in our tents.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011, 9:35 am
Broadhembury Holiday Park:
This campground is really quite
nice. The showers have heated floors and
are very roomy. There is a TV room, game
room, and outside two playgrounds one for children under four. The laundry has heated towel dryers on the
wall. At breakfast we decided to spend
the day here and head off to Hastings tomorrow.
As the wash gets done I watch a
little British TV in the hope of find a channel with weather on it. We find a map in the campground office which
gives up directions to get back to town on a less hectic route then the one
which brought us here. Arriving in town
we head to the Witherspoon settle in and spend most of the day catching up
online. I spend a great deal of time
planning a route to get us from Ashford to Hastings using National Bike routes
and other back roads. The day is nippy
with little sun and after spending the better part of the day it’s time to ride
back to the campground for dinner and rest.
Thursday, June 9, 2011, 6:55 pm
Broadhembury Holiday Park to Rye: 28.5 mile ride.
We are up early enjoy a nice
breakfast, pack and shower it’s off to Rye with the sun shining on us. About half way through the ride rain clouds
block the sun. As we ride into open farm
land the rain begins along with heavy winds.
There are times I’m almost stopped dead by the wind. The rain stops, but the wind does not. It has been mostly a flat ride, but the wind
is taking its toll. We stop at the
Woolpack Inn to dry out and have some lunch while planning the rest of the
route. We have gotten off course which
means we’ll have to ride the last bit into Rye via a very busy road. After reviewing the map it seemed that any
other route then the main road would take us mile out to the way.
After a nice lunch and getting a
little dryer we head off toward Rye on the main road. The rain has stopped but the wind has
not. We reach an intersection with a
sign pointing toward a campground. I
suggest we ride on at the campgrounds I’d found the previous day were south of
Rye not north were we currently were. Rye
is perched on the top of a hill which we must now ride up against the
wind. After locking up the bikes we
walk around Rye for a while then enter the information office. We
have ridden about 22 miles and are now told the closest campground is the one
we road passed. The one’s south of Rye
do not accept tent campers and the one we passed did. We are not going to ride the six miles to
Camber and the Pontis’s Camber Sands Holiday Park.
This is by far the worst I’ve
been in during all my adventures in England.
Talk about a tourist trap! We
were charged 24 pounds a night, for and “electric” hook up because they
supposed had none electric hook up pitches available. We were then led to filed and told we could
pitch anywhere. None of the pitches were
remotely close to an electric box. We
would have had to carry a 100’ cord with us to hook up. The wind was so bad the Mark’s tent was flat
on the ground as he attempted to put it up bending some of his poles. We then had to walk about half a mile to the
camp recreation center where we had dinner that was just about palatable. Mark asked if he could have some extra gravy
for his potatoes and was told it would cost him an extra 80 pence on top of the
high price he already paid.
We headed back to our tents the
wind whistled through my tent all night with what sounded like rain patters
from time to time. Pontis’s Camber Sands
Holiday Park is a place to avoid rude staff, none stop noise throughout most of
the night, poorly prepared food, overpriced, and poorly kept restrooms for
campers this is not a place you want to stay.
Friday, June 10, 2011
Rye to Hastings to Portsmouth:
We are out of the campground
early and back in Rye for Breakfast. We
purchase tickets to Portsmouth, but will jump off the train in Hastings to see
his historical site. What a
disappointment. Weather turned from
overcast to rain, we ended up down by the water only to find the place was far
from historical. It looked like a giant
amusement park and reminded me of Coney Island in the 50’s when its hay day was
over. After lunch we boarded the train
to Portsmouth. I’m very disappointed
tired of the cold and rain, and then find out that the battle of Hastings took
place in a place now called Battle, go figure.
We arrive at Portsmouth station with the sun out and the wind blowing.
We are riding toward a campground
I’d stayed at four years ago Called the Southsea . It was a nice friendly place on my last visit
Saturday, June 11, 2011
Portsmouth to Romsey vicinity:
Up early time to shower back and
cook up a bit of breakfast before riding off.
A nice lady whose name we find out later is Julie offers us tea as she
feels bad that we spend the night in the rain.
We meet her son and husband, take some pictures and then we are
off. There is a nice bike path with lots
of historical sites along the way to Portsmouth harbor. Taking our time to sight see a little then we
are off heading toward Romsey. As we
ride Julie and family cruse by honking their horn and we wave. Finally we come upon Bike Route 2 which is
not as clearly marked in places as it could be.
The day wares on and we are now heading
toward Fareham where we will catch the train to Romsey. Off the train in Romsey one false start, stop
at supermarket and we are off to find the campground. We run into some rain but manage to make
good time then we ride around in circles for a bit until I flag down another
bike rider. He takes us to the road to get
to the campground. Very nice lady checks
us in an we have enough time to cook dinner before the weather turns to heavy
rain pattering down on the tent most of the night.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Totton to Salisbury:
Rained all last night and still
raining upon wakening. Mark wants to
stay in his “warm” dry tent and wait until the weather lets up however my
experience tells me that could be a long wait.
I’ve been up for about an hour now, had breakfast, showered and started
taking down my tent. Thankfully there is
an open barn right next to where our tents are set up which gives some respite
from the rain. After attempting to dry
off the rain fly and ground cloth we are riding in the rain toward the train
station as we have decided to take the train back to Salisbury. I disembark for the train looking around for
Mark who has come out another door. He
calls for me to wait up as he has had an accident and didn’t “mind the
gap.”
There is a gap between the train
and the station platform. In some
stations it can be quite large and I’ve always been fearful of having my foot
go down with the weight of the bike on top of me. This is not a new fear as it was instilled in
me by my grandmother whenever we when into New York City to go shopping. Trains had gaps, and so did subways. There were new articles for time to time
about someone missing the platform and getting their leg stuck in the gap. Often if the person’s leg could not be freed
amputation would be necessary. On every
trip to the city I received the warning that my leg could get cut off if I was
not careful. Luckily his leg did not go
into the gap but he fell pulling the bike with him. The bike was now refusing to move and after
some inspection I found that the back wheel had been bent. On the train Mark
suggested that we head to the YHA for the night when we arrived. I now suggested that we head to The White
Heart which I was sure he’d like better to recuperate from the last two days.
At first he was reluctant to
spend the money, but the relented and we checked in for 100 pounds. This is a very nice hotel in the heart of
Salisbury with all the amenities. We entered
our assigned room and found that it had one queen bed in it. We both did and about face heading back down
to reception. While they rectified the
problem we were given complementary tea in the lounge. There was a psychic fair which was just
finishing up for the day which we perused for a bit. Mark went up to the room for a shower while I
finished my tea. Then it was my turn for
a long hot shower. After that I went to
the Cathedral Hotel for a nice hot bowl of soup while Mark remained in bed all
warn and comfortable.
Monday, June 13, 2011
Salisbury:
I was up at 6 am to enjoy the
wonderful breakfast which was included in the price of the room. White linen table cloths, white china plates,
flowers on the table, pressed coffee, water with ice, plus all the food you
could eat. I indulged in the fresh fruit
salad, mesial cereal, beget with soy “butter,” beans on toast, apple juice, and
pressed decafe coffee. Lingering over
breakfast it was decided that Mark would go to the shop where he purchased his
bike and get a new wheel. I was going to
head to the Cathedral Hotel for coffee and Wi-Fi and would meet him there.
We have now moved into the YHA
again. We use my bike as mule to get
mine and Marks bags moved over. Then we
begin working on drying all our equipment out and doing wash. I begin thinking seriously about going home
early. I think about going up to
Liverpool to spend time with my new family then head back home in about a
week. I send them an email that about my
intentions. Mark accompanies me to the
Festival office where I am turning in a self-evaluation of the events I
Stewarded and how then helped me accomplish some goal of self-improvement. I’m hoping t get a picture with Anne and Gill
to post, but Anne is not in the office today.
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Salisbury:
Marks last day here and we are
warping up loose ends. One loose end is putting the bikes somewhere
safe for this year. Haybills bike shop
agrees to store the bike for a price until next year. We store both bikes because I’ve made
arrangements to go home early. We’ll
head to the airport together, but take different planes to get back to
Phoenix. I ride out to the campground to
see Wendy and Nigel. They have not been
able to sell my bike and there is a place in town which may buy it, which turns
out to be a bust. So the bike goes back
to where it’s been for the past six years.
If it is still there I’ll try to sell it again next year, but it’s time
to go home. My son is somewhat depressed
that his mother will not be around this year for his birthday. I think I should be there and will surprise
him by showing up on his birthday which is Father’s day.
June 15, 2011, 12:40 pm
Flight 145 Heathrow to Boston:
Well did not get to Austria, or
France, or Ireland, or Scotland or even Liverpool this year. And now I’m heading home early which feels
like the right thing to be doing at this point.
Not having almost unlimited funds as I’ve had for the past two years is
part or the reason. Needing to get back
and take care of a number to things having to do with getting ready for next
year’s tax season. Also feeling like I’m
needing to be with my son on his birthday and Father’s day. This year there was no mother for my
daughter’s birthday, or to celebrate Mother’s day or her birthday in May and
now no mother at his birthday. So rather
than spend any more money and dealing with not so nice weather I’m heading
home.
Several things have come to mind
this year as I traveled that will apply to my trip next year. The first it that my previous trips all had
some goal attached to them. All those
goals have been reached which is one of the reasons I floundered around this
year attempting to find some purpose.
Next I felt stuck, gee there’s a new one, by not doing better planning on the events I
volunteered at during the Festival. The
time between them required me to spend more time in Salisbury than ever
before. There was really no need to wait
for a special order tire, which if I had paid more attention/focus just by
looking at the one good tire already on the bike. Focus or the lack there of was probably the
biggest problem. Then the weather was the
worst I’ve run into since coming over here.
In the past I’ve had lots of rain which was not a problem because it was
warm and there was little wind.
This year was much colder and
windier than any previous year. Wind
blowing so hard that it almost stopped me from going forward while riding. Almost daily wind, rain, and cooler temperatures
then on prior trips caused my bones to ache.
This along with a lack of direction or focus, my mind more back in the
states then here left me unsmiling. Not
all the time, but a good deal of it I checked in on myself and found no smile
or wonderment on my face. I found that
even the birds, which sang me to sleep and woke me up in the past, went
unheard. Each of my previous trips ended being a
spiritual renewal that seemed not to be possible this year. A thought that kept running through my head
was too much death this year, too many
lives cut short and mind goes on. Where
is my gratitude?
So I found on line this site that
talks about the process of a Pilgrimage.
A pilgrimage is most likely what my previous trips turned out to be. So the following are the steps:
1. Feeling what it means to be a pilgrim.
2. Reading
the signs along the way as the journey takes on a life of its own.
3. Awareness
of companions along the way and why are they there.
4. History
of the story we witness as we journey: Spiritual, historical, and political.
5. As
you travel you become part to the story, no longer an observer.
6. Seeing
where heaven and earth touch, seeing with the eye of you spirit
7. Affirmation. Opening up to what needs to be confronted or
what is revealed.
In retrospect the pilgrimage this year did not reveal
itself until I made the decision to return home early. Then and only then did the bigger pilgrimage
I’ve been on become visible from the smaller.
Gary and I talk often about things happening when they are supposed to
not necessarily in tune with when we think they should. People, time and time again, ask me what
drove me to do this bike riding in England.
Each time I answer them only I miss the answer. I’m saying I dreamed of doing this for a long
time yet only just found a way to do it.
Which seems to say that other things had more priority then doing this
so it could not have been a very important dream could it? What I really mean is in my mind was a hope
that this would come to pass when it was mean to. Not after doing it I’d which I’d done it
sooner because it would have meant the same.
The first trip happened at a time when it was most
needed. Subsequent trips happened
because the first did not give me enough time to complete the pilgrimage, not
that it is completed now. The bigger
pilgrimage, my life, will not be finished until I die. The smaller pilgrimages which create the
bigger one are by no means over either.
The England Pilgrimage may be over, or needs to be looked at in a different
context. So it will become, at this
point, England Pilgrimage II, because I think England Pilgrimage I has been
complete thus this year’s feeling of being lost may be the beginning of England
Pilgrimage II.
Step One: Feeling
what it means to be a pilgrim.
I think back to Gary and me talking about his Pilgrimage to
Spain and Walking the Camino of Santiago
de Compostela.
The feeling
of being a bit lost at the beginning which is what I felt for the first time
this year. Unsure of where I’m going and
why am I doing it. It does not help to
have someone second guessing you along the way.
So this pilgrimage begins with whatever I do not bring any joy or
direction.
Step Two: Reading
the signs along the way as the journey takes on a life of its own.
In the past this has happened on almost all my odysseys
here. But this year the signs are hard
to read obscured by thoughts which take me somewhere else rather than the
present. When I review the blog the
signs begin to send a clearer message.
Step Three: Awareness of companions along the way and why they
are there.
Several new people come into play here all seem to be
dealing with endings and beginnings.
Mark comes and goes and there is awareness that there are parts of
riding with him I enjoy, but there are parts that I allow to distract from the experience. This becomes clearer after I’m home and
attend a program where I’m left with some people who introduce me as the person
who goes with Mark to Europe.
Step Four: History of the story we witness as we
journey: Spiritual, historical, and political.
I’m drawn into politics between the Cathedral and Festival
staff which distracts from the experience.
As much as I try to stay out of politics inadvertently at times I’m
drawn in. I was good at doing politics long ago, but
have chosen to attempt to stay out as people get hurt when playing. The history of my past, which could mean
yesterday, interacts with the history going on around me. There seems to be no spiritual aspect this
time out, but is found as I board the plane home.
Step Five: As you
travel you become part of the story, no longer an observer.
This has happened every year I’ve gone on this quest. Every year I’ve become part of other’s story
and they have become part of mine. New
family members, new friends to keep in touch with all become part of the future
story.
Step Six: Seeing
where heaven and earth touch, seeing with the eye of you spirit
This was a very hard this year. My spirit eye was clouded by my mind’s eye of
“what if, what could, what should, and why not?” Heaven and earth touch more solidly upon
arriving home which probably would not have happened had I not gone.
Step Seven: Affirmation. Opening up to what needs to be confronted or
what is revealed.
This to me was clearly the message of this year’s Pilgrimage. Several things were confronted which
required me to readjust my thoughts and feelings. Revelations along the way showed errors in thinking
and feeling. This trip cleared out the cobwebs alone the
way which allowed for more clarity of goals for the future. I now
know that all my goals/dreams were fulfilled in prior trips. This year’s trip was mean, in part, to give
me new dreams for future trips.
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