Work is therapeutic

When I met Stacey, life was easy. I had my truck. My house. I went to the mountains. And I rode in the trees. I jumped in the water. Since meeting her, I have had a growing worry. About a peaceful future. And I have become more peaceful. More diplomatic. More real. And now some things scare me. This world is militant. The younger people. They’re al just like I was. Fighting. Fighting against everything!! Everything is the enemy! Haha! It’s kind of worrisome. But I do my part to ease those parts of those people. Wouldn’t you rather just be loved? And heard? And rubbed? I find work therapeutic. I like to write by hand because it eases my worries.


All I can think about is the tomatoes that are ripening in the fridge. I made wild rice with that other small funny sprouted grain, broccoli, zucchini, onions, mushrooms, and cilantro. And I’m going to have to for breakfast with fresh tomato. It’s drivng me crazy. I already ate a banana wrapped in whole grain bread earlier this evening. It was a little late. Life is so wonderful without sugar. Everything else is so amazing. Maybe with garlic salt. Sometimes I just smell the garlic salt. It wakes me up. Like truffle. One should eat egg plant, mushroom, ginger, a whole lemon, cilantro, mint, and large squash at least once a month. And, California butter. Avocado. Tomorrow is going to be exciting.

The man in the mirror

On the first rain of the Santa Cruz summer, things changed. There was a lightness to the city, something I thought had been long forgotten. The abuse of the heat fueled neuroticism and aggression was gone, only a few remnants of trash scattered in the beaches and streets remained. The courts so graciously decided that we both deserved to be heard, and the scheduled meeting was coming up fast. I decided to leave her a voicemail. At least it would be a serious effort to temper my path. At best she would receive it well and we could both move forwards. Fellow travelers on the epic journey of life. Right now, I have a goal, but the destination has changed. I made it to the last destination. And I’m not certain what the next one looks like. All I know is where to steer. It’s like sailing in fog, during a fall dusk when a grey wall comes sweeping in from miles out. You know it’s coming so you make sure to get the bearings straight before you’re enveloped. Making it through smoothly requires pulling from years of experience, exercises, and letting it work.

The best answer

Someone is profiting.

I have been surveying homeowners to understand their need better as the area real estate agent. A major issue that has come up is homelessness. So I started asking the for solutions. One man said, we need to understand why it doesn’t exist in Capitola or other cities. That will help us find the solution. Another said; it exists because someone is profiting off of it. And I realized, this is also why the world is so chaotic and dramatic. It’a profitable for people to be unbalanced, needy, self-righteous, compartmentalized. Capitalism is almost a virus of the soul! Anyway, I don’t want to question everything about the world. These are just the things that have come up.

The best answer havevactualky been: why do the homeless bother you? Perhaps it is something inside if you? And, the only problem is that you can’t accept them. Whoa!!! It’s only problem because it doesn’t fit your ideal. The reason it exists, is that some people in Santa Cruz didn’t see it as a problem. Hmm. I could reword that to fit my understanding of Santa Cruz better:

The reason homelessness exists in Santa Cruz is that the people of Santa Cruz have never treated homeless people as a problem.

Oh there was one more nugget: you are a problem to the homeless.

In the United States, homelessness is not illegal. Therefore, it must be respected, as much as anyone else should be respected.

The waves of harassment that have been occurring are due to a slight rebellion from the homeless, due to the recent attack on them by certain groups and organizations who have physically been attacking them.

The formulas

Santa Cruz has a way. And I don’t like ways. I like to observe. And feel. Stacey has formulas. How should things be. Everyone does. But her journey is to disconnect from the formulas and see. See the formulas. Does she them? Whenever she doesn’t see them, that means she is in them. And the same for me. Our relationship has been to support each other in entering the silence. Where there are no preconceptions and no needs to be anything. The Christian will generally react, with formulas, and say, but you need to do this. But that’s a formula. Jesus came to break the formulas. But what about love your brother? By he didn’t say to do anything. Maybe the best love I can bring right now is to enter the silence. With her. And him. Let the scene be and watch it, without needing to control it or react to it. Like grandparents I suppose. I don’t know what I’m getting at and that’s OK. I’m in a process. I don’t what the goal is. Well, I don’t know what the destination is. The goal is to be free.

I want to support her in finding what she wants to find. That’s what I’m trying to do. That’s the goal. I have been getting away from formulas. If you don’t see a formula in every single other person, then you’re still in some type of formula! It’s scary. We’re all robots enslaved to some formula. Does she see it? That’s why she’s mad! The formulas. She knows they aren’t right. She knows freedom. Do you know freedom?

Ah, freedom. A sweet breeze in your nose. She cane and went from my life, like a summer curtain dancing in the door.