THIS IS MY LIFE
Tuesday, 6/26/2001
Copyright (c) 2001, Michael Dickerson. All Rights Reserved.
Reproduction or quotation is strictly prohibited without
permission.

Hi, sentient (I assume) beings ~

Yes, it is verifiably true. I am in California. I feel so much like a California boy. I�m suddenly craving a surfboard. No, I�m not serious. Anyway, I�m getting ahead of myself.

If you haven�t ever cut everything you own down to 2 carloads or less, I�ll inform you that it�s an enlightening experience. It�s very similar to the question I�ve asked about what we would save if our house were on fire. It seems that it�s mostly the people who�ve really had the experience of losing everything or of paring their belongings down to a small number who understand. Most people think so much of their stuff is important.

I�m one of those people who�s right on the edge of that. Sometimes I get it that very little of what I own really matters. Other times it seems as if a lot of it does. (It�s mostly what�s irreplaceable that I hold as important � photos, books with underlining in them, notes from classes I�ve taken, the materials for workshops I�ve facilitated, etc.) And now I�m doing the paring down and seeing what happens. Very, very enlightening. Barbara said she once let go of everything she owned except what would fit into a backpack and then moved to Hawaii with only that. Sounds like the advanced course to me.

Anyway, this all became exceptionally clear to me last week when I was moving my stuff out of Diana�s garage. I had a collection of record albums (LPs, not tapes or CDs) that dated back to 1963 (and some of them were made years earlier than that). I�m not talking about a small collection. I don�t know how many I had, but I�d say that it was about 6 feet of them, if you stacked them all. Hundreds certainly. I hadn't played any of them for years. I just moved them from one place to another. (And, if you�ve ever moved records, you know that�s a lot of weight.)

So, Diana and I were talking, and I suddenly felt inspired to sell all of them at Half Price Books (for virtually nothing). I could probably have gone on eBay and sold some of them for a lot more. But it just didn�t seem like what I needed to do. My inspiration was to just get rid of all of them as quickly as possible. Before I got to Half Price Books, I went through some interesting spaces. This was the biggest one: A lot of the albums held some kind of emotional, sentimental meaning for me. I thought maybe I should sort them and keep just those. But my inspiration was to get rid of all of them. Besides, as I said, I hadn't listened to any of them in years. So, I sold them all. To my great surprise, I didn�t feel much sadness about it. I felt more relieved of a burden.

And now that seems like a template for sorting the rest of my things. For certain I can release my turntable now (which I also haven�t used for years). There�s so much more to shed.

Saturday evening I got together with Barbara again for the first time in way too long a time. That�s significant to me for several reasons:

First, seeing her is a bit like taking a ladle and dipping it into the river of my past and drinking the water. I know some of you may have negative associations with that. For me, it�s a very comforting and pleasant experience. It gives me a sense of continuity. For those of you who are too new to this to know, I met Barbara when I was 11 and she was 7. She lived across the street from me, and then I eventually began dating and finally married her older sister, Pat. I love hearing how things are going with her family members.

Second, I appreciate being reconfirmed in not wanting to be with Pat any longer. I held onto that for way too long. And, as I get more perspective on it, the picture of Pat�s and my relationship clears, and I see how we didn�t ever really work together, even then. I stayed with her, not because of how great the relationship was (because it wasn�t), but because it was familiar, because it was better than nothing (which is what I imagined I�d have without her), because she was pretty, and because I liked sex (as bad as it was, though I didn�t really know that then). Besides, probably most importantly, I couldn�t at that time imagine anything better. My parents� relationship had been similar � 2 mismatched people staying together for some unclear reason. That was the model I was using. I don�t even like who Pat is now. I can�t imagine choosing to be with her.

Third, I like spending time with someone who, under other circumstances, I could imagine being happy with as my romantic partner. It gives me hope that there is someone out there in the universe who I can connect with. Surely the woman for me exists, traveling her path in life, as I am traveling mine, drawing ever closer to our meeting, whenever it�s most spiritually appropriate.

I like and love Barbara a lot. She and I are much more alike than Pat and I ever were. How odd. If I hadn't perceived her as the little sister, if I hadn't dated and married Pat, if I had known who she really was under her adolescent acting out, if I had had any inkling of who she would develop into, if I had followed my enormous attraction to her, it would have been she I would have pursued. But, I wasn�t ready then for a decent relationship, and we both had lots of experiences to live through to become who we are now. I know that it worked out as it should have for the highest benefit of all humankind. But the fantasies about how things might have been different for both of us are very interesting.

And I admit (fourth important thing about seeing Barbara) that I did have a few twinges of jealousy talking about the man in her life. That�s one of my issues for awakening. I know lots of women I wish I had the opportunity to connect with romantically, but they�re involved with other men (or aren�t interested for some other reason). I�ve acknowledged to Barbara that my jealousy sometimes interferes with my relationship with her � especially with my willingness to spend time with her. The same is true for other women I know. My lesson is to accept what is and not to be attached to what isn�t. I do, intellectually. My feelings aren�t always caught up to that, though. The positive side is that I did spend time with her and, except for a few feelings, my jealousy didn�t interfere.

Fifth, it was notable for me at this time in my life to come out of my introverted shell and to spend time with someone socially. I do that far too infrequently, some part of me says. Being an introvert, making social contact is a big effort on my part, even when I like someone a lot. I know that extraverts don�t understand that. That�s one reason that I�m so much happier in a committed relationship. I�m not especially comfortable with dating (now we�re back again to why I stayed with Pat), and when I�m part of a couple, social things seem easier for some reason.

And finally, sixth (you do remember still what the numbers are related to, don�t you?), we went to one of my all-time favorite restaurants for dinner. I want to highly recommend it to anyone for whom Tacoma doesn�t sound like a long way away. Actually, it�s in Parkland, I think. (Get on Pacific in downtown Tacoma, going south, and keep going for several miles. Then it�s a block and a half to the right on some street. Great directions, huh? You can look it up in the telephone directory or online.) The name of the restaurant is On the Bayou, and it�s Cajun cuisine. Everything about it is great: the food, the d�cor, the people, the service. Be forewarned, though, it tends to be crowded. Make reservations. I recommend the etouille (think I�m spelling that correctly).

Well, that turned into a long report, didn�t it?

Then, yesterday was my flight down to San Diego. For several reasons � having to get up so early (for me; it would be late for Barbara), not knowing if I could trust the alarms to wake me, being in a strange place with cats walking on me, and anticipatory anxiety about flying � I didn�t get much sleep. But I did get there in plenty of time. (Thanks to Ginny for driving me!)

Unfortunately, the plane crew wasn�t as timely, and we took off about 45 minutes late. I preferred that they do the work on the plane, though, rather than ignoring it and taking off on time. The most eventful thing about the flight was that I wasn�t all that anxious. I won�t say that I�ve gotten over my fear of flying, but I take this as a good sign.

A Japanese family sat in the row behind me along with a 10-year-old who was flying alone to see his grandparents. They got into a conversation about baseball, and I learned something interesting (to me, at least). Do you know what Ichiro means in English? (If you don�t even know who Ichiro is, subtract 15 points.) Ichi = 1. Ro = go. So Ichiro = #1 go or go #1. How about that!

Then, 2 hours and 20 minutes after we took off, we landed in San Diego, land of sunshine and palm trees. Does this occur to anyone else besides me as something of a break in reality? Going that far in that little time, with such big changes in climate and geography, just doesn�t seem quite in keeping with the laws of physics to me.

I stepped off the plane, and there was Marcia (Mar-see-uh) waiting for me. She was flying out in just a few minutes to go to Lopez Island (WA) for her job (she works as Jewel�s home care coordinator or something like that � if you don�t know, Jewel is a well-known singer). It was nice to see her. She left me in the hands of Sally and 2 year old Auriana to drive me up to Sheila�s house.

And so, now I�m in Vista in an incredible home with 5 animals (Wil, short for Wilbur, the Black Lab who will chase balls endlessly; Whitney, the Airedale who doesn�t like to chase the ball, but who likes to take it away from Wil; Pooka, the brown and white Balinese cat; Tinkerbelle, the lilac and white Balinese cat; and Zoe, with whom I am totally in love, the brown tabby kitten who spends a lot of time sitting in my lap and who spent most of last night lying on top of me). Sheila lives on a large piece of land with a swimming pool and a small orchard. I haven�t looked closely yet, but maybe she�s growing lemons. She has a gate across her front drive and a big turn-around in front of the door. The house is a huge Spanish-style home up in the hills with 3 bedrooms, an office, a den, 3 � baths, and a kitchen with one of those center things (what are they called?). Robert has built the cats an outdoor play area that�s enclosed in chicken wire (so the coyotes can't get at them) that looks like kittieland (stretch your imagination with that word). And I have use of her car. Pretty cool.

Yesterday evening Robert dropped by to say hi and see that I�ve gotten settled in. We�re going to get together for dinner sometime soon. (For those of you too new to know, I lived in Robert and Marcia�s house in Maple Valley � that�s WA � between 12/99 and 6/00 when Robert was getting it ready to sell after Marcia had already moved down here.)

I nearly immediately learned something important. Before Santa Fe began calling to me, I thought I would probably move to San Diego. I�ve noticed that, while I really like it here, it doesn�t call to me as a place to live. It isn�t my place, like Santa Fe is � similar to Sedona, which I also like a lot, but it isn�t my place to live, either. Valuable confirmation.

Well, I�m having another computer problem here. Sheila�s phone lines both have messages on them, which means the dial tone isn�t a tone but a series of beeps. My computer doesn�t recognize that as a dial tone. That means I can�t connect to the internet. I may have to go over to Robert and Marcia�s house to send and receive e-mail. What is this on-going thing about not being able to connect to the internet?

I�m up-to-date, and I�ve written more than enough for this time, so I�ll close.

May there be the sunshine and warmth in your heart that I�m experiencing in the weather here.

Namaste,
Michael

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