Day Tripper #2

It started at breakfast,

gangbusters with the huevos 

Mexicana....hard but easy 

getting home. My dear friend 

going through hell with a woman.

All the people I know, it's never 

any other way. My friend, Binny,

just died. Lost both of his legs

in a skiing accident in his twenties.

Managed to have a positive life

from a wheelchair. Humans can be

amazing. What's happening to our

species? What's happening to the 

world? Is anybody paying attention 

beyond their little lives? Did we 

have a few disco years and now it's

just a matter of survival? How 

quickly things can change. Of course,

being old, it seems like it took no time

at all....the Sixties are a cherished

memory. From about '75 on 'til the

World Trade Center collapsed was 

a busy time and a fruitful time, but

the details are unclear at this point.

I'm glad I'm old, that I don't have to

be too concerned about the next

fifty years. There are too many old 

people. The Boomers drove the

culture in the Sixties, and, now that

we begin to be aged, testosterone

therapy has taken the importance 

away from the next big rock and 

roll group  coming out of San 

Francisco. And those artists used to

speak to what was happening at the

time..."For what it's worth"...A lot of

people woke up from the American 

Dream at that time. Now, entertainment

has no other message than distraction

and "Lethe"ergy. ...the river you float

on in order to forget what's really going 

on.

So, yes, old people. I'm pretty much 

done with what I had to do in life. I 

know that because I've been paying 

attention....not because of any greatness

of my own. No, it was simply a matter

of paying attention in order to survive,

meaning not getting lost in the bullshit.

Now, my teacher was as enlightened as

Buddha himself. He had maybe five 

thousand students...tops. Buddha had a

great influence on half of the world. My

teacher, brought up as a Lama, studied

western culture at Oxford and knew the

Western mind, only attracted that many

students. A less auspicious time in human

history? I think we could safely say that.

Straight to the heart...discovered when 

no one is looking. 

So, again, as I have used this life 

imperfectly, yet learning with every 

misstep, I wouldn't mind giving up my 

place on this earth so that younger minds

with more energy can work to save 

themselves and the planet. I don't want to 

take up more of their resources when I've

already had my day. But I do think a lot....

many...old people even more useless than 

I am with knowledge and compassion for the

world...should volunteer to get out of the way

with me. It might be the best thing some of 

them have done in their whole lives. 

I had a great life...at least, that's what I feel 

now. And I was fortunate enough to find my

own way, not listening too much to what the

"adults" had to say. 

So, now, chemically blissed. looking out my

window at my yard, which I can't see beyond

because of it's filling the space in front of me

completely with green of bushes and trees,

bougainvillea, butterflies and colored birds.

Where else do I want to be? Even though there

are other beautiful places in Mexico, I have no

urge to see them. I've found my place. I knew

that the first days I was here, crying in the

restaurant and not knowing why. Some magic 

of some sort? Well, if you knew my teacher,

you wouldn't necessarily see it as magic. On the

other hand, you could call it "ordinary magic".

“In many shamanic societies, if you came to a shaman or 

medicine person complaining of being disheartened, 

dispirited, or depressed, they would ask one of four questions. 

When did you stop dancing? When did you stop singing? 

When did you stop being enchanted by stories? When did 

you stop finding comfort in the sweet territory of silence? 

Where we have stopped dancing, singing, being enchanted 

by stories, or finding comfort in silence is where we have 

experience the loss of soul. Dancing, singing, storytelling, 

and silence are the four universal healing salves.” 

- Gabrielle Roth