The rest of my trip was very enjoyable. I visited several friends, had bonfires on the beach, and many fabulous conversations about our disconnected society and looking for ways to heal it.
My last stop was a rest area just south of the Oregon/California border. I had intended to make more miles, but the rest area was well off the highway, with soft green grass and a beautiful sparkly river.
It was just so damn pleasant I had to stop for the night, even though it was early in the afternoon.
Redwing blackbirds chuckled in the willows and cattails, and every so often I would catch a whiff of sea air, blowing up the river from the Pacific.
I laid on the grass near the river, and thought about my journey. It was amazing how the timing had worked out. Any time I was delayed, it worked to my advantage. I invariably arrived at friends places at the beginning of their weekends. Once I just decided to flow with it and "let it roll" everything fell into place.
I thought about how thankful I was for this opportunity to see our big, beautiful country, and follow spring across it.
I gave thanks for good friends, and for simply being alive and able to appreciate all the wonderful possibilities life has to offer.
Slowly I drifted into a state of bliss I can only describe as the "God experience". When one is truly, deeply grateful for one's existence, and hyper aware of the realities that surround you, you can get to a place where you feel the earth breathing, and feel that you are a part of All That Is.
It is a place so whole and loving and happy it never fails to move me to tears, though they are tears of joy.
It occurred to me that wherever my friends were on this journey, there was a green valley.
Near Santa Cruz, CA
Near Tucson, AZ
There was a Green Valley park near my brother, and a Green Valley town near my mom.
The Green Valley isn't necessarily a physical place, it is inside me. It's where my community lives.
That Green Valley is inside all of us. Where do you think the Eden story comes from?
The Green Valley is an archetype as old as mankind.
This blog has been slipping for a while. I'm simply too busy to spend much time time on the computer. I think it's time to wrap things up.
I'll still check in from time to time, and maybe be lurking in the blogosphere, but this is probably my last post.
I am a different person now. This blog no longer reflects me as I currently exist.
If I start a new blog I will post a link here.
A few days ago, I visited a place that comes as close to the physical reality of my Green Valley as I could ever hope for.
About 1 1/2 hours drive from the nearest city, up winding country roads, across an old wooden bridge, lies a valley surrounded by wooded foothills.
I worked alongside fellow gardeners and volunteers in the acre of organic vegetable gardens.
I wandered through the fields, skimming my hands across wildflowers and grasses, and felt like I could fly.
I swam in the beautiful rocky trout stream beneath the wooden bridge, and saw more food swimming around in the water than I had seen since the reef in Key West.
I hiked up to a patch of old growth trees, put my hands to them and gave thanks that they still existed, while praying for their continued existence.
I followed nicely built hippies through the shoulder high grass next to the stream.
I felt this land welcoming me home, holding me gently in its embrace like a lover.
We are each responsible for creating our reality. With every thought and word and deed we shape what we experience.
I want a reality filled with love and peace and light, and I will work tirelessly toward that end.
Each of us is a creature of God, a part of the universe, and like it or not we hold the power to manifest our reality. Negative energy begets negative reality, and positive energy begets positive reality.
You can't fight the waves, but you can learn to surf.
I just caught a monster wave, and I'm gonna hang on and ride it all the way in to the land of milk and honey.
From here on out, I surf.
