Facing West

The Call of the West

Nineteenth century American author and newspaper editor Horace Greeley is attributed with the famous quotation of "Go West, young man". A line that is as a part of our lexicon today as is "From sea to shining sea" and "Gentleman start your engines". 

Actually the entire quote reads as:

                       Washington is not a place to live in. The rents are high, the food is bad, 

                       the dust is disgusting and the morals are deplorable. Go West, young 

                       man, go West and grow up with the country.

The Southwestern culture of the US has always appealed to me with its big wide skies and stark and rocky deserts. Areas teeming with life; cactus, sage brush, ocotillo and prickly pear, tan rocky mountain mesas and 40 mile vistas. I can't seem to get too far away. In my mind anyway that is. 

This past September I decided that I was ready for a journey to the places where my dreams reside. Because of certain circumstances, the time was right and I resolved that since I wasn't getting any younger, I got in my vehicle and pointed it West. This was not to be one such as where the only focus is the destination but, instead, the space between where I am here and where I wanted to be there. I planned to drive to Arizona from Georgia and enjoy and savor every mile. States covered going out were Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana, Texas, New Mexico and Arizona. The return was New Mexico, Texas, Oklahoma, Arkansas, Tennessee, Georgia. 10 states all told. The road led the progress but the exits and sights called out to me. Time was my own and there were no clocks to beat. I'm not intending to lay out the whole itinerary here but, lets just say that it was a relaxed and refreshing trip that anyone should take, figuratively, at least once in their lifetime. Truth be told, the destination was in my soul all along and this travel was but an external illustration; a manifestation, of what I can see in my mind at any time I drift off and dream a little. 

When ever I see a sunset here I visualize it as illuminating the land far out over the western horizon. Golden skies with orange and gray-blue clouds as big as countries in the fading blue of the stratosphere. 

Entire storm systems can be seen at a distance from high thunderheads to rainy plains below. We don't get views like that here because of the lay of our land. Its that kind of place you go to wherein you feel as if you've really really been somewhere. 

It was enough for me to go and just be present and soak up the vibe and experience what the earth had to offer out there. No agendas or touristy bullshit wastes of time. I climbed a mountain and I turned around. I didn't see any reflections in any snow covered hills and the landslide surely didn't bring me down. The serenity gripped me however and I felt my inner self connect with life and remind me that there is so much more to come. Maybe this world out west here has room for even me. Broken and shot-out as I am. 

One day soon I will (I hope) return to where the land spreads out with nothing to hide before you. I do not possess an ability to translate the security I feel while in that place of complete openness and where the world seems laid bare all before you. Painted Deserts and Petrified Forests. Indian reservations with river canyons steeped in colored bands of geological times. Drives that elapse hours where there is only me, the gentle trees, the infinite sky and the road leading ahead. Time does not apply...

I'll be back.

- Hal

Boots of Spanish Leather

Spain...España. The country of Mediterranean coasts, Don Quixote and The Alhambra; Night life with dinner or La Cena never before 10PM; Flamenco and a modern-day foodie ground zero paradise of Tapas, Paella and Jamón de Trevelez. Running Bulls and decadent deserts; Cities and low sun-yellowed mountains with sage chaparral; Matador de Toros y corrida de toros. 

A lifetime would not be enough. 

I have been three times in my life to Spain. My memories are nothing short of fantastical and almost cinematic in their expanse of dream like settings of city and countryside. Desert meets low shrubs and terra cotta roofs; olive trees and steak restaurants at old ranches. Ancient cities with jigsaw streets and night-lit gothic cathedrals. Small neon bars with old men having jamón y huevos at midnight and drinking café con crema. Who needs Paris, London or Rome, even, when this is all there in the multi-cultural destination that is Spain?

I have a friend who is traveling to Spain today and he has asked me to drive him to the airport. Me being the friend I am said of course and we're even leaving early enough to grab a bite nearby before his check-in. I'm envious of his travels, if for nothing else than to just soak in the vibe and lifestyle that I found so many years ago while in the country. At a time while already living in the heart of the European continent, I found myself being dispatched to even more disparate and captivating places. I have always, when asked where I would want to return to, said first and foremost the Iberian peninsula. Words fail me to accurately describe the visual and sensory experience that was in my time there. I really envy my friend.  Did I mention that already? 

Crossing 5 time zones and the North Atlantic the flight route will take him over the islands of the Azores, landfall at Portugal and into Spain and finally down to Madrid. Roughly 9 hours total overnight travel time consisting of a light dinner, a movie, some snooze and a wakeup prior to approach into the Adolfo Suárez Madrid–Barajas Airport. All through the night. Amazing to think, by way of comparison, that when the first Spanish explorers of the new world in the 16th century set out 450 years ago to come this way and discover the west the journey took months at sea and survival against the elements. A good half or more of them didn't even make it and gave in to disease or weather. 450 years from now will we even still need to physically travel at all any more ?

The world is certainly a smaller place than once was.

How far do you have to travel these days to feel like you've "been somewhere"? Leaving my hometown I can drive for at least 5 hours in any direction of the compass rose and with the exception of some low mountains or oceans it all remains relatively the same. Main St USA and all your favorite stores on every corner. How far before the change really comes and starts to appear? Where is that elusive line of "there" and no longer "here"? 

I digress.

Spain has long evoked images and thoughts of a distant and foreign land to poets and writers and dreamers alike with its vast cultural landscapes and warm climate escapist lifestyles. I choose to believe that when Bob Dylan wrote his song of unrequited love and the longings of the heart for one who has travelled away from life and presence, that he turned his thoughts to distant yet romantic Spain as the destination. All the mournful subject of the song ever wanted was for her to "return unspoiled" or unchanged by her travels and remain as who she was before. When he realizes that she isn't likely to return after all he settles for some boots made of fine Spanish leather instead to possibly walk in and move on towards whats next for him. Thats my interpretation anyway. 

Take a listen to the link below and as you hear him sing the story see if you can imagine someone you long for strolling the far away alleyways and market shops of old Madrid; the Tubes of Zaragoza; the hills of Catalonia; the sunny coastal surf of Valencia and the halls of the Alhambra while they remember, only somewhat, of the life that was left behind. 

One day that might just be me sailing away. 

https://vimeo.com/20204690

Hal 

So - Writing....

Day 1 (or 2) but who's counting?

Hurray for this 30 day challenge which is off to its blazing and much celebrated start; on day 2(!) I might add. Due to a longer than planned, albeit great New Years Eve / Day in Savannah I am now here and present, prepared to pour out any and all which may find itself in need of being written of; described in depth and story shared. That said let us see what awaits here at the start of a new year. Begun with renewed hopes; (re)commitments and several pounds to go, the first step is thus taken. Or stumbled. In my case, at times, face-planted in an attempt to march boldly into my new year with all things being recreated in the fresh light of hopes and dreams. Then I get up and shake off the short lived euphoria of some magical, appointed moment based on an antiquated Roman calendar system and I see that life is waiting right where I had left it. Back there at the curb, with the engine running. The driver, Reality, says to me "Ok, you've had your moment, can we now move it along?" 

The reality I awake to is best described with a quote from Death Cab For Cutie (The New Year):

                    So this is the new year

                    And I don't feel any different

                    The clanking of crystal

                    Explosions off in the distance

                    

                    So this is the new year

                    And I have no resolutions

                    For self assigned penance

                    For problems with easy solutions

Life moves on in the direction it wills. 

Truth be told, reader, this is as much (if not more) an ambition for me as it may be for you. I've committed to writing daily (with some others) for a period of 30 days as an exercise in free-form expression. This invitation stands for anyone who feels the inner call to express or create. Why do this you may ask? Because, for me, whether it is through music, visual arts or written word - to express is to live. No matter what is said here, it is an open door into my soul; a light shined into a dark and packed closet wherein lies things I've long since forgotten about. Maybe some things that are best left where they are. We all have our things like that don't we? The time is here now to clear away some of these notions, ramblings and hear-says and discover what's behind that door in the unused room down the end of the hall. 

I open with this. The first picture of 2019 (above) taken by me as I walked from a marshy area back to civilization just after midnight NYE. What does this image seem to want to say to me?  It is not full frame and there is a reason for why. Maybe you can deduce that one for yourself. The road ahead calls; ever open to head out upon. A limitless destination says "here I am, do you have the guts to come my way?" Staggering through life I often fall like the lame hurdler who always crashes yet gets back up and, paying no heed to the other runners that fly like graceful gazelles, continues the run to face the next hurdle ahead with confidence.  This is my way. Never in a straight line as it were. 

So...I see that the new year begins here with a single step into this dark yet beckoning road. I am not so brazen as to plan, and to expect, that it leads where I may desire it. It is its own blank page that I am merely a contributor to and an observer thereof. Sure, I make plans but we all know where even the best made of those usually winds up. Paving some other road it seems.

From this road I can traverse to all others and find, or lose, whatever it is that I've been looking for or needing to purge myself of. It is an invitation to move beyond the present and a promise of a future to be had, not without peril or cliffs to fall from mind you. But a road nonetheless. Blindly imploring you to take that next corner or turn without a clue in the world as to what it may hold. The not knowing is the part that keeps me alive and ever growing. Like Bono once said, "I still haven't found what I'm looking for" and that holds true for me as well reader. Maybe I never will. Maybe a part of me never wants to. 

What is there to be found down that road off in the light and under the Spanish moss hanging from the trees in the solemn, quiet hour with the marsh frogs singing? Only one way to find out and know for sure. 

Stumbling onward -

Hal 

Awakenings and the 2019 Writing Challenge

Awakenings and the 2019 30-Day Writing Challenge

Me: <blows the dust from my keyboard>...Is this thing even on? Does it still work? 

QWERTY type type type 

Where have I been, where have I BEEN? I'm a few years older now and time has compressed so much that I felt the racing by of days like I've been binge-watching myself on streaming. Sheesh, I've had so much to say but no voice to say it with it seems. The expressive words have slowly drained from me like so many stones down the river. 

Months have in fact elapsed; a few years, really, since I've had anything to say here. Not that there hasn't been anything to write about. Oh, theres been plenty...but the writing muse had surely flown south for the season and then decided to stay away indefinitely like some wandering vagrant lured by the promises of warmer climes and peaceful shores. I had shut down and in place of were new pursuits, creations and passions.  Still they were seemingly empty though and never quite saying all that I felt was in there. Sometimes late at night I would wonder about if I could ever have a voice to speak with or a story to tell again? Where had all that creative voice gone? Hadn't I enjoyed it when I was writing more? 

Epiphany

LIGHTS ON: The realization came to me that I had it backwards all along. The story comes through the writing which is always first. Not the other way around. Open the tap and let it flow out, then will the thoughts and ideas take form and shape. The muse promptly took a non-stop flight to my desk back from the exiled ends of civilization where she had sequestered herself waiting on me to awaken.

Now that she's back I'm not missing another opportunity; not letting another season pass by without the written observations in my own voice left here for all to see. Or none to see. Writing is never really about the reader but more for the author to say, and say they must! Last time I was writing I felt alive, articulate and accomplished. Somehow. for me, to express is to live. 

That being said, I offer this:

To start the new year off right (write?) I've decided to challenge myself, and some select others to a 30-day writing challenge. Write something, anything daily for 30 days. For me the challenge will not necessarily be in keeping it up but in the stopping after the 30 days are through! 

So for you, reader, if there is a desire to create from a place that is purely and only you; to take up the fearful blank page and set to typing that which is totally as you would choose to express, this call may be for you as well. Would you care to join in with me on this journey through your thoughts? 

I'm drawn to that horizon and that place of unknowns that maybe we can share in together. What is over that horizon there? I'm going to see.

My Christmas Spirit 2016

I was asked today if I still believed in Christmas any more. I found myself repeating this thought and reflecting the inner responses to that question to myself as the afternoon went on. Truth is that I think maybe I never did to begin with; that is, in the form it takes today and that to be anything other than the blindly happy supplicant who beams with joy at the repeated sounds of rehashed same old same old Christmas music and imagery. But I think that to truly answer that one must step back and ask what defines Christmas and what do we mean when referring to this time of year. Is it the celebration? The pageantry or the aweing displays of things that “look” Christmas-y? Maybe it’s the biblical version of what the season represents – although, historically speaking, the makings of this season mostly all come from early pagan rituals grafted into the Christian tradition combined with the visions of Charles Dickens and the advertising campaigns of Coca-Cola (Santa Claus). Such aspects are all of an inauthentic spirit to me. I can’t seem to “get with the times” lately concerning the holiday season. Maddening rushes plunged into retail frenzy; frantic schedules to beat the clock to see family and friends. The true meaning is lost upon me as is the home for the core of my faith. And yes, I still have a faith; buried as it is beneath an as yet incomplete journey of self-re-discovery and a reemerging of my personhood following a very long season of isolation and depravity.

I think this blog post from December 9^th from John Pavlovitz sums up and paraphrases my feelings almost without exception.

He writes:

The holidays are difficult when you’re losing your religion.

When your beliefs begin to shift and when doubt creeps in, those dates on the calendar that used to bring such joy, the ones that once set the steady rhythm of your spiritual journey each year suddenly don’t provide the familiar comfort they used to. 

Instead of being more deeply connected to God and to your community of faith than ever, you tend to feel more like an orphan; a former insider pushed to the periphery of the party, no longer sure whether to try again or walk away for good. Having something that once was such an integral part of you, now leave you oddly estranged can bring a terrifying existential free fall.

I’ve heard from and spoken to so many Christians these past few weeks who aren’t sure what to make of this season anymore. Many of them are struggling with what they actually believe about the birth and life of Jesus, about his divinity, about how salvation works—and that all adds up to one really strange holiday.

There’s such a commonality of experience for the people I’ve heard from; the religious muscle memory that tells their hearts that they should be in a building somewhere singing songs and praying prayers and feeling feelings, mixed with the profound guilt when they no longer have the slightest desire to do any of it. There is the pining for spiritual security—and tremendous guilt when that security is elusive.  

If you’re there right now friend, know that you’re in good company. Many people both inside and outside churches are navigating the treacherous minefield that is carrying faith in seasons of profound doubt.

The bad news, is that there are no easy answers if you find yourself at the precipice of this Christmas season unsure of what to do or what you believe; no silver bullet response that will instantly clear all that is cloudy in you or suddenly usher in simple answers to complex questions that have pestered you for a while.

The good news, is that the only and perfect answer, is to walk into Christmas just as you are without pretense or guilt or editing and know that this is enough. This transparency is a spiritual journey which might lead you back to a building that used to be so familiar to try once more. It might bring you to your computer screen to participate in a new community of faith half a world away from the safe confines of anonymity. It may bring you to a quiet place of solitary prayer or meditation or to a small gathering of like hearted people.

It might lead you far away from anything remotely resembling religion or church or spirituality—and that’s okay too. 

Despite the lights and the tinsel, this season is not about pageantry it’s about authenticity. It’s not about pulling the wool over God’s eyes but about giving God the full weight of yourself and trusting that God is able to bear it all. It’s about what you can profess or believe at this moment and making peace with whatever that might be.

Because whatever is true is no less true in those moments we are unable to believe it, anyway. In other words, God is still God even if we can’t see that from where we’re standing; the same way we trust that the sun is shining somewhere, even when all appears dark to us. It doesn’t need our consent to shine.

One of the things that can be so easy to forget when we are struggling with our faith, is that God is not struggling with us. God sees the cavernous depths of our hearts, the meandering curves of our road, and God has a mercy for us that transcends what we are capable of understanding. Because of this we can be encouraged even when we waver, knowing we are fully loved even still.

Others may lose patience or write you off when you vacillate, but you needn’t worry. Though people around you might seek to shame you back into secure faith or to judge you harshly in your doubts, they are not the final word on that matter, and not at all the point either.

The real tidings of great joy, are that God is always going to be more loving, forgiving, understanding, and Grace-giving than God’s followers, and that you are safe in your truth.

Rest securely in that truth, and however you are this Christmas season; whether you are feeling drawn back toward or fully repelled by the religion you grew up with, know this is all you can give and give it unapologetically. 

Pray whatever prayer you are capable of praying, even if it barely feels like prayer. 
Profess the faith you are able to, even if it is still somewhat smaller than a mustard seed.
Give thanks for what is good in your life; celebrate the people and the things around you that give you joy, and let that be the thread connecting you to this season.
Let your honest declaration of faith or doubt be the most spiritual act you perform. 

And as with any day on your spiritual journey, may you be your truest self this Christmas.

Let that be the gift you give and receive—and believe that this is enough.

I choose to engage with the holiday season this year as a reluctant and hesitant participant, confident that my place on the last, back row of the celebration is just fine with me for now. If I’m not smiling or singing then know this: I am alive and continuing my journey, going through what I need to go through to find my own place of peace which is real and comes from within, not falsely manufactured from without and lacking in connection with my reality. Rediscovering who I am and where the light shines in my life, places new and old. This is my pilgrimage back to me. Its not complete yet.

Whomever you may be that reads this, I wish the truest and most honest tidings of joy and peace in the form of the knowledge of Gods presence in the manner in which you understand him to be; in the strands of your past, the serenity of your present and the promises of your future.

 - Hal

   Dec 2016