Alchemic Verse

The narrative continues – this covers the next two nights, continuing to break up the content to a reasonable length.

The next place that I stayed was a well-preserved 1950s cabin overlooking a broad lake. It reminded me heavily of my grandparents’ house from when I was young, which was sold in the mid 2000s. Like the backdrop of those awkward family memories, everything was adorned in rough knotted pine paneling. I navigated across indigenous lands and nature reserves to get there, crossing rivers and borders, and my mind was on fire the entire way. Nonetheless, I made it a point to quiet my inner questioning and to appreciate how beautiful the surroundings were.

The road was lined with towering pines, waist-high bushes of yellow wildflowers with buttery petals, and still taller bristling thistles tipped with mauve blossoms shaped like the plumes of soaring fireworks. Expanses of deep blue mountain ridges wreathed in sheer slips of cloud rolled into the horizon ahead of me. Undaunted birds stood in my path, uninterrupted as I carefully navigated around them, and high above spread the broad wings of vigilant hawks and buzzards. Often I didn’t see another car for hours. The fingers wrapped around the helm of my mind chose to steer toward “profoundly grateful for the opportunity to see the majesty of those surroundings,” to appreciate beautiful things and kind people even when feeling discouraged.

The cabin had an extraordinary view of a broad, glittering lake rife with boats and jubilant recreators in the valley of lush mountain ridges, visible even from the inside, for which I was grateful as mosquitoes worldwide seem to prefer the taste of my blood best in creation.

The first day there was filled with a long, deep nap full of feverish vignettes of dreams and swirling silhouettes of human shapes. Traveling has a lot of fine points to it, even solo, but the sheer number of times I awoke feeling deeply confused by my constantly changing surroundings began to take its toll. Seeking anchoring in time and space, I procured a nutritious meal from the most earnest DoorDasher, who I eventually sought and found parked and panicking some 1000 ft away from the cabin’s street. I half-jogged swiftly beside her car to the edge of the driveway, as she had found herself lost in time and space in the tangle of backroads that rimmed the lake; we both volleyed chuckled apologies at one another for the situation through her open window.

Having broken the chain of gas station meals and fast food with fruits and vegetables and having broken the extended silence by sharing cheerful words with her, I felt strong enough for a long chat with my brother, who helped remind me that heavy feelings can have their place and be allowed the room to rest as part of renewing hope and anticipation. The sun set that evening, glowing vibrant orange against the blackened bark of a massive oak tree out back, and a juvenile wolf spider guarded the darkening corner of the sunroom while I reclined and read about ancient Egyptian mythology, peeking up from the words to appreciate the dimming view of the mountain lake. For those soft hours, I felt profoundly peaceful.

The second day, I broke up the solitude with a trip to the world’s friendliest Dunkin’ Donuts for cold brew and breakfast, followed by two spots trying to buy Sudoku books, the second of which proved fruitful, and an impromptu massage. Each of these interactions reminded me how important patience, acceptance, and a friendly smile can be in someone’s day.

The cashier at Dunkin’ didn’t see me at first, having entered with the same bing-bong as others leaving. As she apologized profusely while her manager scowled, I reassured her it was no trouble, that she simply had given me time to decide. My drink order was then incorrect, but easily fixed which garnered more frantic expressions of regret – to which I replied I was not in a rush and complimented her that it was absolutely perfect once fixed. Based on where I was, and the social/societal dynamics of that location, it occurred to me she was used to truly ugly words and responses if and when she made a mistake from entitled and prejudiced patrons.

As this thought took form, the customers that followed me made a deep demonstration of that assumption. For better or worse, I chose to insert myself to interrupt the tirade with a “oop, ‘scuse me just a second there while I scooch right by ya” to leave a cash tip at the counter, which helped to deescalate if by sheer momentary physical separation and distraction. I left to finish my breakfast in my car, reflecting that I would never understand how or why human beings treat one another that way.

After the Sudoku book adventure, where I was warmly if unusually praised for my purchase – “it’s so good for your brain!” – I drove to the massage and simply could not find the place. My masseuse truly struggled with what little English she knows so far, particularly when trying to understand and assist my directionally-challenged self to find the door to her business based on Google’s misplaced pin. Running the place on her own, at least for that day, she must have apologized a hundred times for the intermittent calls and visitors requiring momentary interruption of my massage. From my prostrate position on the table, I overheard how loudly frustrated and unkind many of them were despite her earnest efforts to help them. For my part, I reassured her that I did not mind and thanked her for the massage that was deeply healing. In equally deep gratitude for my understanding, she eagerly gifted me a pretty red and gold charm which she pressed into my hands, saying “Chinese, good luck” when I explained I was traveling a long way, just passing through the area.

I’m no saint, I repeat, and I’m not looking for brownie points – rather, I hope that empathy, patience, reassurance, and strategic interruption of overblown conflicts when encountered can be part of an existence that makes a bigger difference than the moments themselves. I write about them for that purpose, and hope that others might find moments of their own in which to embody a kinder way of interacting with one another. As the tiny canvas beside the bed at the cabin reminded me, what you feel you will attract.

Sitting with myself quietly for long hours after the rapid-fire succession of effusive apology in the face of [checks notes] ah yes, normal human mistakes, I mused over the hard questions a layer above the quotidian and how to connect the daily actions with the long term goals.

What do I truly want to be doing with my life? Where do I belong? What could become my community, career, life path, location? I know I want to create. I know I want to inspire and to heal people. I hope that writing this blog, sharing the ‘Hot Takes,’ and weaving the poetry can serve as a solid starting point for exactly those efforts.

All creators should know, and I seek to remind myself of this also – if even one person is reached by your work, a ripple has been created in the universe that cannot be altered. Every time someone listens to your song, every person that reads or sees or hears your creation, their story has now taken on a piece of you. The credits of their life now include your name. I like to imagine for music especially, all of the moments in a person’s life where that music was an indelible part of their story, of their scenery and the emotions of that moment. I can think of few things, perhaps nothing else as powerful as that, reflecting on the mosaic that I am of every piece of music I have heard, every artwork I have viewed, witnessed, or read. Too often, society is fixated on the commercial success of artwork as the primary measure of its worthiness. I challenge that view simply with the myriads of creations that I know indelibly changed my life for the better, regardless of their monetary successes. So how and what can I create myself, with these hands, this mind, this voice, that can have such an effect on the world – on people, or even just a single person? Where is the link between the day to day, this journey, and the creation?

I trust I’ll find my way, but I also know I have to niche down and choose a way in order to be effective in any craft. There are also the omnipresent pressures of ensuring I maintain enough of an income such that I have shelter, food, and sufficient indulgences to enrich life and inspire me in turn, if more occasionally. If nothing else, I had/have nearly released the doubt and criticism instilled over 30+ years by numerous voices that responded to me with cynicism and/or directly said I couldn’t do it. I continued to sink those voices in the wakes behind me as I sailed by the stars.