I miss everyone I know, and if someone I don’t know is reading this, I miss you too.
Why? As though living 3,000 miles away from my friends and daughter isn’t enough, Daughter Darling, Baby Darling and I took a trip to the mainland and I didn’t visit a single friend. (It was a fact-finding mission.)
Maybe we made a new friend though—Baby Darling is a master at attracting people, you know how it is with puppies and babies… At Chevys Restaurant in Glendale California we met Debbie, a young woman, efflorescent as champagne, and a photographer. Her companion was a Documentary maker—his documentary, “Press One for English,” has to do with immigration. While Debbie goo-gooed over BD, we struck up conversation. We asked her how she liked living there and told her what we were up to. She gave us her email address and we were off.
Back at the plane change in San Francisco BD high-fived the passengers around us. He high-fived the man in front of us who played finger puppets over the back of the seat, he high-fived his wife, as well as the man beside us who showed him pictures of his dog he had shipped from Hawaii to SF. The couple behind us figuring we were having so much fun joined the fray and were high-fived along with the group. As we were coming in for a landing at the City of Angels airport, the sun was gold on the horizon, and BD was squealing, pointing at the wonder that was happening outside our window. Someone commented that they had never seen anyone so excited over a sunset.
We have to get this child off a remote island and into the world.
Shall I tell you about the man in San Diego now or later? Now? Okay.
From our eighth floor Hotel window overlooking a grassy hillside I could see an orange dome. It looked like a beach ball set in the tall grass, but I surmised it to be a small tent.
The following morning BD and I watched as a young man, dressed in clean light colored clothing, stood beside the tent, it was a contemplative stance, and while there he slung bubbles into the wind almost like someone bowing to the sun. He then gathered up a small plastic bag, a skate board, walked down the hill, threw his bag into a garbage can, jumped on his skate board and took off into the world.
You might wonder about our restlessness and our search, and you might understand that too. You have your own life and search for fulfillment and understanding. It is a human condition. The ancients called it pathos, a yearning for home. Ulysses traveled around the known world to find his. The ancient kahunas of Hawaii knew about energy and that certain sites would heal the physical or emotional body, thus when they felt called, they moved. Yes, I have nomadic tendencies. I do believe, however, that our human search is to find the divine within us.
