Sobering Fear (The Last 12 Hours)

The last twelve hours have changed me like none before.
Travelling may just be behind me.

Such small choices
(at first act)
with major consequences.

Work late
Sleep in
Hitchhike from Kalamazoo to Ann Arbor
End up in East Jackson
with a sobering fear of becoming normal.
Note that said normality sounds much more attractive
than ever before in my short life.

My ethos has taken a complete 180 degree

I'm sipping on a mcdonald's coffee
sitting under a metal awning
on the side of a mobil gas station.

The wind has changed from the westerlies
to rushing from the south
(with rain in it's mouth).

My hands are cold but not cold enough
to completely destroy
whatever sense of good handwriting
I might have had.

I am waiting for my grandfather
who is secretly my role model.

The following are outlined points
drawn from my recent reflection:
a) I do not especially enjoy travelling alone.
b) Travelling alone in the country is terrifying.
c) I am a very impatient individual.
d) I tend to romanticize the awful aspects (increasingly so as said events are further away in time)
e) Perhaps the uncertainty of the life that I am living will kill me, if not the risks themselves.
f) A cellular phone is necessary if I ever make the ill-advised decision to give this another go.
g) These are the circumstances that help me to realize how important my loved ones are to me.
h) In fact, anything familiar is comforting.
i) Loving people is a truly difficult endeavor. Loving them only when they love you is not enough. That is the easiest part.

Christmas Light Crucifix

Certain nights
when I am still working
until after the sun has set
I exit

& am lit by the street lights
that are scattered round the parking lot
as I liberate my bicycle

The air seems to cool
as I hurtle down the streets
pedaling possibly toward

a warm dinner
prepared by able hands

tired, weary eyes
in all of the rooms

my loved one waiting
in our bed sheets
up the stairs

the moon sometimes
sets her eyes upon me
in the gaps between the buildings
that rise from the earth

the traffic lights don't mean much
when I am the only one
with my tires on the pavement
red means go
as does yellow

Only one thing is ever certain
The incandescent illumination
that reminds me
I am almost home.

The Christmas Light Crucifix
at the end of my street
reminds me that most of
what is on my mind
is meaningless.

The Stars were the Brightest

as I crossed over the interstate.
The lakeside town seemed almost haunted
as I walked it's streets at 4:30 in the morning.
I walked past houses
as their lights turned on inside.
Obedient citizens with semi-lucrative careers.
Waking before the sun
to drive into the night to offices they hate
to make money that they don't need
to support families that they might love.
But perhaps...
the homes that i was passing
"were inhabited by happy families maybe with new babies, 
a great promotion in a job they like because it allows them to help people, 
an exhibit at a local gallery, 
excitement for a planned vacation, 
joy about a breakthrough in import(ant) research."
Either way,
It is a beautiful morning
& I feel that I have experienced this lakeshore
like no one before me.
Last night was not easy, however.
The wind blew and woke me up
all throughout the night.
In all, I would estimate
that I slept an entire six hours.
Sleep is the most difficult aspect,
for myself, while traveling.
I hope to conquer it soon.

As the Ship Returns to the Harbor

The soon to be setting sun played hide and seek with me
Behind the beach-side homes as I walked towards the water.
My month had come and gone
Summer was a memory to me.
And yet I feel that I still have it in my grasp,
My grip is not very tight, however.
If I am to have two, consecutive days off
Than those days will be spent
out of the city
on the road
on the waterfront
in the forest
in the cars of strangers.
I find nothing to be as peaceful, as serene,
as watching the slow but steady rippling waves
caused by forces unseen
as well as the breath and movement of the aquatic creatures.
The geometric patterns that can be seen
so clearly after patiently waiting for life to come full swing.
I long to hear the beautiful melodies of nature
without plastic speakers in my ears.
The fish evaded the fisherman for long enough,
he has headed home.
The elderly couple that scowled at me when I arrived
with my torn jeans and over-sized backpack,
is now sitting on the waters' edge
enjoying each others company as they are so used to.
I've tuned the world out
& feel better for it.
Music that was written centuries
& decades before my birth
is now the soundtrack to my life.
I have realized, however,
that I must write the lyrics myself.
But it becomes so difficult
when I can
Never say the right thing at the right time.
The tip of the pier, the end of this long stretch,
is meant for lovers.
I am but one,
without the other.
She resides in the city,
our city.
I will see the sunset without her for the first time in months.
I know not where I will sleep.
Rarely do I ever.
But as usual,
it will be illegal,
as most practical solutions are.
She'll be alone in our bed
with the windows wide open,
waiting for my return.
As the ship returns to the harbor,
so will I,
to my love,
my home and rest is in her.

The Desert Moon Begins to Wane

Our trip is coming to an end as the mountain (& then desert) moon that led us along begins to wane.

We were able to spend some time in San Francisco

but with a lack of free parking

we had to skip town before seeing an old friend of mine.

A detour was taken, solely for my sake.

I had wanted to see a ghost town while we were in the Southwest.

No fee was made apparent online.

So we went a good distance out of our way (a full extra day on the road).

After arriving we realized that we were to be charged $21.

($7 per person)

I thought that it would be a good plan to have Benjamin hide in the backseat.

Thus saving us $7.

Bodie, California.

Quite the sight.

Perfectly preserved.

The town folk abandoned their houses, furniture, all of their belongings.

 

We continued to head South and decided to skip over the larger cities (San Diego, L.A.).

This being due to our lack of ability to locate free parking.

I am a cheapskate.

We did see Santa Monica, however, which was great fun!

We swam in the ocean with scuba gear we dumpstered while still in Michigan.

The waves were unreal, nothing like what we see at the great lakes.

The water was also saltier than I would have imagined.

I headed inland after a large wave caused my goggles to vanish. 

After swimming, we laid in the sun.

Then Benjamin decided that he wanted to walk the shore.

This was fine. But he had to be back in half of an hour.

He was not.

After running up and down the shore, along the sidewalks, making desperate phone calls,

I decided to wait where we had been when he left.

Somewhere between overjoyed and angry was how I was feeling when I spotted him walking towards me.

We continued on our way, making it to the Grand Canyon by the next morning.

What an incredible sight it was!

Ben and I did some free-hand climbing off the beaten path.

The best part was hiking down into the canyon for a few miles.

We could see storms making their way across the desert.

Absolutely beautiful.

In the end I was glad the we had stumbled upon the Canyon in monsoon season.

We spent around 8 hours total in the park

witnessing the stark difference that light quality made throughout the day.

Night fall was upon us soon enough and we were just leaving the park.

We made the heart-breaking decision to pass the Pueblo Ruins

A lot of road had to be covered in the next few days.

We hoped to make it to Colorado that night.

Which we did, with me behind the wheel.

I was usually the late night driver.

The plan was to see our Grandfather Jim by tonight.

We should be to Greely by this afternoon.

It is very difficult for me to believe that we've been on the road for close to a month.

I guess that this is what traveling and living in a car can do to an individual.

Headed Out West, Fourth Day, Spirits Are High

It is our fourth day into our first traveling stint across the nation.

Plans changed abruptly when my partner's mother voiced her concern for her daughter hitchhiking.

She "resolved" the situation by offering us her car (& credit card to cover gas!).

This amendment would change more aspects of our travels than I would like to admit.

It would dramatically decrease the adventurous, as well as spiritual, energy of our experience.

Thus causing the trip to feel less genuine to myself.

It would hinder the personal interaction with strangers that we would usually be forced to endure.

I could continue with the negatives, including the hypocrisy that would come coupled with my personal philosophy on life and travel.

But this was an opportunity of a lifetime and I felt that it would be

foolish to not accept.

Accepting the car keys and credit card would (almost) ensure that we did make it to the West Coast.

That we wouldn't get stranded in the desert.

This would also be a chance for us to "give back" by giving rides to fellow hitchhikers along the route.

Safety is usually something that I am completely content to sacrifice for absolute freedom.

But after much prayer and thought on the subject, we were headed north from Kalamazoo,

Autumn, Benjamin, & I.

We made our way up through our home state & were able to sneak into Sleeping Bear Dunes.

With our tent and gear on our backs.

We met a couple from South Carolina that took a genuine interest in our travels and philosophy.

We watched the sunset over lake Michigan, as a summer storm made it's way over the waterfront.

The wind was strong and we were silent.

Our tent was pitched in a basin carved inbetween the dunes.

The wind turned out to be more than our little tent could handle...

So we made the two mile hike back to the car.

It was dark and the rain fell hard on us.

After we reached the shelter of our vehicle, the sky opened and displayed the stars in a beautiful way.

We would be air-drying our clothes in strange places for the next few days.

The next morning we hit the road at 5:30 a.m.

Ended our driving in a familiar Traverse City.

Free breakfast for the needy was located shortly.

Solitude time was spent in chapel that we came across.

We also took in a 25cent movie.

The 75cents were spanged and the film was an old-time classic based off of a Hemingway novel.

We continued on our way.

Across the Mackinac Bridge and to the U.P.

This is where the sight-seeing truly began.

We visited the Tahquamenon Falls, both high and low.

Then proceeded to the Lake Superior shoreline by way of a a network of narrow, dirt roads.

We thought that we were lost many times, but the Almighty pulled us through!

It was a race with the sun along the swerving country roads.

We made it to Pictured Rocks just as the sun was setting.

Ben and I found a hole in the barricade that was keeping us from the rock formation...

we made the ascent, right past the sign forbidding us to do so.

The image of us sitting in the lotus position atop the monumental rock face is burnt into my mind.

Then it was to far northern city of Marquette.

I drove through the night and we eventually found a wal-mart on the outskirts

where we camped in our car for the night.

The next morning we explored the city.

Most notably were the ancient ore dock

the People's Food Co-op

& Northern Michigan University

Autumn picked Benjamin and I upon campus and we made our way west towards Wisconsin.

I was navigating and fell asleep.

This ended in us accidentally going much further north than intended.

After many roads traveled through the Northern Woods we crossed the state border

& began our descent through Wisconsin.

I drove late through the night once more until we found ourselves at another wal-mart parking lot.

This time in Menonimie, WI.

We were asleep soon enough.

Up until this point we've sustained ourselves on dumpstered food and a large jar of peanut butter.

Mostly free traveling and our spirits are high.

And now we're in the Twin Cities, taking off for St. Paul's Cathedral!

Empty Arms, No Longer (Silence & Life)

When is one no longer considered alone?

Silence.

Deafening Silence.

Life-changing Silence.

Is my soul but a whisper?

I had been lying to myself the entire time.

It was only a desire for warmth, for intimacy.

That caused me to feel any need to speak.

But fingers have been put against my lips,

to hush, to caress. 

How can nothing have ever felt so right?

My bag is mostly unpacked.

When you live the way that I have chosen to,

Plans that work out are a thing of the imagination.

"Peregrinatio est tacere"
"To be silent keeps us pilgrims."

Hold your tongue, find yourself and the Almighty in silence.
Make no more plans, start living.

Atrocious Atmospheric Conditions in Ann Arbor

 

Our departure began with the rain.

It shows no signs of stopping.

The journey would have it that we were stopped

in the street by two gentlemen calling out to us,

"You are here now."

We were here now.

The conversation shifted from travel to sleep

And from worldly pleasure to spirituality.

A friend of theirs came outside

She invited us to spend the night on her couches.

Thus the story of our night in a dry, warm house.

Radar continues to show that we will not be

wandering dry

anytime soon.

Finger crossed,

we're hoping to cross

the Canadian border with no trouble.

Cheez-Its and Powdered Lemonade (Spiritual Rebirth)

The gratuitous comforts of a home

Are never enough to make me stay.

Walls and a roof over my head,

but I would rather take my chances.

As I have always said.

People will always speak of money.

Well, they can make their living,

but, me, I'll be living free.

I decided to drop out of school

to see what else the world might hold for me.

Anyone can be an exception to "the rule".

Could I live a different lifestyle

than the one that I had been taught was "correct"?

Still making it out alive, with a genuine smile?

I began to give away my worldly possesions

to those who needed them more than I.

I became involved with activism, small-scale rebellions

I began to stick my thumb out on the edge of highways.

Eating meals from the bottom of trashcans.

I'd growl and snarl at men in suits, in my early days.

I wore a dark bandanna over my face.

My clothes were ragged and sewn together.

I was happy to be out of place.

I began to study many subjects.

Religion intrigued me.

So much to learn, so many holy texts.

I had grown up loosely in the Christian tradition

but without much reason to believe.

I eventually thought my way out of it, through my "intuition".

I felt that conflicting answers made sense to different people.

Varying circumstances meant that

not everyone needed to worship underneath a steeple.

I still see organized religion to be a limitation.

The modern representation of Christianity, in general,

causes me to cringe. Even just the indication.

Christ's message doesn't seem to be represented well by the Christians.

Why isn't more focus put into action than vindication?

We were told to care for the widows, the orphans. To give away our riches.

Not to proselytize or to prove who was right, who was wrong.

The medium was love, the mindset was unconditional acceptance.

To come as you are, to join in the most rebellious of songs.

I have come to realize that my existence holds much higher aspiration.

To continue my search for beauty, for goodwill.

To be active in my personal liberation.

Most everyone seems to be searching for something more.

I've found it, but believe my journey is never-ending.

This fills my heart with excitement, more so than ever before.

What more reason is needed to walk the earth?

To learn, to explore, to love

What better way is there to experience spiritual rebirth?

sunlit fruit trees

The orchard has begun to burst with color and blossoms

I've had thoughts of searching for love

I am but the son of a farmer and the artist

I wake at a different time every morning

to work with my hands

in the soil

to walk in the forest

in the early summer sun

to tend to my carpentry

in the workshop

To Question All that Holds Us Together

Is to have a greater chance at living

If we are not to dispute the societal fabric
that encompasses our day-to-day lives
How are we to know what we could have a chance
at standing for, at believing in?

The most passionate of beliefs come from exploration
Promising results following abandonment
of what we've been taught to think.

There is no problem to return to what we were told,
But there is an undeniable issue in not making these beliefs our own.

It is every individual's responsibility
to tap into their personal ethical system.

Where is the excitement or authenticity
of preaching the same politics that we heard
from our fathers at the dinner table?

Question
all history
all science
all religion
all authority
all of the ideas
you ever thought to be truth

In Love but Led to Leave Louisville

The last few days of our traveling were spent in Louisville, Kentucky

We fell in love with the place

The most beautiful city we had been to yet

As well, as some of the most beautiful people that we had met yet

But we felt The Almighty calling us to return

To return to our childhood home

Nestled in the orchard

Our lives are currently filled with our studies

Books on spanish, weather lore, and bush craft

A truly spiritually & intellectually enriching environment

But I feel that my heart may always belong to the road

Invitations & Introspect in Indy

Close to 300 Miles covered

in only a day and a half

Each day feels like ten

We've decided to expand our route

two or three weeks more

an entire month of freedom

minus the finances, comfort, and television

the best kind of liberation

We're making our way through it

but Indiana is becoming

a state that we want little to do with

after we've made it out, of couse

Thus far we've gotten by on mostly bread and water

We've slept under a bridge in Plymouth, IN

As well, as alongside the White River, here in Indianapolis

We've met many kind folk

Godsends, I'm sure.

Some gave us their numbers

to contact if trouble arose.

No hassles from any police, yet.

But it is still early in the journey.

We're hoping and praying for the rain to end

We wanted to be to Louisville early this afternoon

Our Packs Are Full & Our Hearts Are Bursting

I've been laid off from the migrant work

They said that they would call in two weeks

As soon as the next busy season began.

No better time for me to give in to the ever-present wanderlust.

My youngest brother and I had our maps out

& our bags packed before the sun had set.

It seems reasonable that with 

playing our music in the streets,

doing migrant labor, as available,

plus whatever other odds n' ends are found

that we can continue to wire money home

to pay off student loans.

All without having to settle down anywhere.

Goodbye, Great Lake State.

You will be missed!

The Man Who Could Never Settle Down (Falling of the Face of the Earth)

"Where do you go when you fall off the face of the earth?"
I've been asked this question
many times,
many different ways.

I've never been able to stay in love for too long
with places, ideas, or women.

But now that I'm working
an average of twelve hours a day
every day of the week
with a migrant worker's pay

my hands are slowly scarring
callousing over the old

mi español está mejorando

I've returned to my folks farm.

I had forgotten

how bales of hay find their way into work boots

how much brighter the stars shine in the country sky

how well dark, moist soil soothes my aching fingers

I may be here for a while before I hit the road again.

The crops must be planted.

The orchard must be pruned.

The chicken coop must be built

In Greenhouses After Sunset (Translucent Lightbulbs, Brighter Futures)

with new seasonal work
comes new experience and insight
15 hours spent
first day on the job

after the sun disappeared
i was surrounded by the same verdure
but the atmosphere had been altered
translucent lightbulbs
shone dimly

my brother and i were only silhouettes
as we spoke of our brighter future

To Leave My City Behind, To Return to The Home of my Childhood Dreams

Circumstance has had it that
I've decided to move back
to my folks farm out here near the lake

to take steps toward progressing my future
to spend time with my dearest mother
to come closer to myself and The Almighty
to live a more simple life until The Departure

I arrived home this evening
The power was out
I gathered wood and made a fire to heat the little orchard house
My brothers and I made dinner in the dark

Father, Mother, Benjamin, Daniel, and I
We gathered around the dinner table
Our faces lit by the flickering lantern

The lights came on near the end of our meal
We turned them off and played a game of scrabble

The house is full
My youngest brother is reading
The middle brother is snoring
We are all here
All is well

Originally Titled "An Unlikely Return to A Philosophical Prison"

Some communication had been rekindled between some old friends from college and this weekend seemed to fit perfectly into my own freedom-laden hands. To the road it was.

I got off of work and started my two day weekend with my thumb on the side of the 94 on-ramp.

I always have a certain amount of doubt as to if I'll make it all of the way to my destination. I have faith but always brushed with a certain amount of practicality. Plan B is always circling in my head. Who to call?

Nonetheless, as always, I managed to pull it off. Thank you, everyone. May The Almighty bless you all, as I told the last driver who dropped me off in Berrien Springs.

As I walked the length of campus, memories began to flood me. Some good, some bad. It always seemed a somber, joyless institution to me. The sun had never seemed to shine (although I'm sure it had most of the time) on the isolated, prison-like university. I had been told that the best days of my life were ahead of me at college. That I would meet my life partner here. None of this happened. In fact, the spark of life that I once exhibited had been doused in these buildings, in these halls. To join such a shamelessly insincere student body that wore a smile for all of the cameras. To witness classmates binge drinking one night and returning to campus in the morning for church service. To hear the testimonies of those claiming to live the example that Christ Jesus had set while not showing the slightest sign of a loving character.*

But alas, the weekend continued and I found myself being asked the question by a new friend, "How does it feel to return?"

"I'm at peace with myself and this place now, after all these years," I answered.

Closure had ocurred. I no longer recoiled at the thought of Andrews University. It was my alma mater. That was all.

And along with the gift of my newly-amended opinion, much time was spent reminiscing of the delinquent activities that we, mostly I, had been involved with.

Stealing bikes and taking them down the highway.
Burning old textbooks on top of the roof of a building that was soon to be demolished.
Streaking across campus on October 10, 2010 at 10:10 p.m.
Convincing a bartender to give us all free drinks when most of us were underage.
Having my room searched/torn apart for drugs by the campus "security".
Spending a night in the women's dormitory (Same-sex dorms only on campus).
"Theft with malicious intent" of a stop sign in a slow-traffic mall.
Getting arrested, thrown in a cop car, finger printed, photographed, and tossed in a holding cell.
Breaking my foot in three places on a long board.
Soothing the pain with the high-dosage painkillers that I had been selling at the time.

ETC ETC ETC.

Thank you for the amazing times, Andrews.
Most of which you will never know and chances are would never hope to.
I am no longer the young punk that I was, but I am not yet the man that I will be.
Nonetheless, I will remember these times for the rest of my life.

The Imposter That I Am

Throughout my day-to-day I seem to counterfit brand-new strategies, cutting-edge rip-offs, and innovative culture jams.

I refer to these as "scams". How can I live even more liberated from one day to the next? This evolving freedom not only releases myself from the secular constraints of this world but allows me the time to share and love those around me on an entirely higher level. How do we survive in a political/economical/educational system that thrives off of the very act of exploiting each and every one of it's members (aside from those who can finance their way to the top of the pyramid, of course)?

Some scams have existed for centuries. Some were invented around the time that our grandparents were born. We've all heard of shoplifting. I'm sure that the term hobo or tramp may sound familiar even though their original defintions have been lost.

What new scam have I come across today? I'm sitting in a community college library as I type. I hitchhiked out here yesterday evening and spent the night with a beautiful friend that gave me her college i.d. and password. Instant access to an amazing library space and high-speed internet, not to mention a warm retreat from this cold Michigan winter.

It's almost Valentine's Day. This will be my first year in over 7 years without. But I'm an imposter, I'm a wanderer. I never stick around for too long. I'm still learning to depend on The Almighty.

much needed communion

I have this awful habit of holding off on everything that gives me joy
wether it be till the end of the day or the end of the year
The case in which this gives me the most trouble is when it comes to spiritual pleasures
may they be simple and not asking much of my time

I will go through an entire day, feverish at the thought
of time alone spent with My Creator, My Lord
Quiet, Nothing but communion between myself and The All-Knowing
But it must "always wait" until I finish my work

The actuality being that even while I'm thinking of putting HIM off,
I can be in touch, saying prayers under my breath
lifting my thoughts up

I much prefer a secluded spot amongst HIS creation
But tis not necessary.
This realization has been a long time coming.
Thank you, G_D

"the truth"

The desire to write a book struck me this morning
Not that I would necessarily act upon the impulse
But that if I was to, it would be called "the truth"
It would be autobiographical

"Truth", in respect to the proposed volume, would be observed in three different ways.
The first and forth most being The Creator, the only real truth that has ever spoken to me.
Secondly and much more overlying, my quondam as well as my present self.
A past and even current struggle (I truthfully hate to admit) with compulsive lying,
I feel self-reconciliation just from the thought of how this book might read.
And on the subject of reconciliation, the last way in which truth presents itself
Would be that I am sincerely just human.
How constantly I need remind myself of this reality is astounding.
Even more so, how constantly I myself am reminded of this by external factors is exhausting.

Small type, "the truth"
in the middle of an otherwise blank page
my fingers would strike the typewriter keys all through the night

"we were never related by blood"

"not hundreds, but perhaps 2"

"only by heart and circumstance"

"much less, so the possibility is slim"

"i thought my life to be boring, so i decided that i must invent another"

"i never lived there before"

"and these pieces of fiction got me into trouble regularly"

"i begin to wonder if it was worth it?"