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APRIL
2001
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“If
I ever get the chance, I am going to kick the livin’ daylights
out of
my
higher-self!”
— Linda Heflinger |
15
April
Hello
my love:
Are
you ready for a story? One
that some will call fiction? A
story about following your heart, in spite of others telling you that you
are screwing up your life? A story that demonstrates that right or wrong
are only relative terms. That
the only thing that matters, in the end, is if you were faithful to
yourself? A story that has no
end, because I continue to live it, while committing my experiences to
paper for you.
I
have read books about great adventures and spiritual quests.
And sometimes I have wondered, from my reading chair, if, in fact,
some of the things really happened that the author had penned.
Well, my Love, I tell you now that if my experience is any
indication, they most certainly have.
I
shall start on 19 December 2000. The
sun was shining bright that morning as I quickly got some last details in
order. I hadn’t “walked
the white line” since Klondike cut her paw on 3 November, and the road
had been calling to me since then.
I
had come to the understanding that since this was no longer a commercial
project, I would follow The Voice, rather than following the predetermined
route I had set for myself when I left Key West. My friends, Linda and Earl, with whom I had been staying
while I closed my company and cleared my debts, were going to drive me
down to Raton, New Mexico. I would then leave from there into the
mountains and the small roads leading south, far away from the Interstate.
As
we headed south, out of town, my spirits where high, and I yelled out my
window, “SEE YA LATER, COLORADO SPRINGS!”
I didn’t intend to see the city for a very long time.
By
the time we got to Raton, it was a little after 2 p.m.
And for some reason, I was starting to feel like I didn’t want to
begin walking from there. I had no other explanation other than it just didn’t feel
right. Maybe I would try
hitching further south, I thought, then start walking.
There
was a sense of apprehensive excitement in the air as I put on my pack in a
gas station parking lot next to the I-25 entrance.
Earl took a couple of digital pictures.
I adjusted straps. We
made small talk. I had $140
in my pocket — not one penny more.
After
I hugged Linda goodbye, Earl walked up to me and offered me $100.
I told him no thank
you, I had confidence that I would be fine and that money would come to me
as I needed it. My refusal
was a natural reflection of my upbringing.
I had been raised to politely decline a gift when it was offered.
It is how a lot of us have been raised, because it was how their
parents were raised, and so on. If
you think about it, that’s a pretty stupid rule.
If
we understand that limitless abundance is always around us, and that we
can at any moment attract it into our lives when we need it, HELLO!
isn’t it kind of stupid to turn something down that we have
obviously asked for, on some level, simply because someone, somewhere, a
long time ago decided that we should give up our power?
Indigenous cultures around the world considered it rude to refuse a
gift when it is offered. Is
that because they understand this universal law?
I
turned and headed out onto the entrance ramp as they waved.
Part of me kept looking around, expecting to feel Klondike tugging
at her leash, like she always had when she was excited to be getting on
the road.
I
stood on the ramp for a few minutes, vehicles entering the freeway, and
decided to take off my pack while I waited for a ride.
In those moments, Linda disappeared in the gas station and I
started thinking. I had
complete confidence that my money situation would take care of itself. That “abundance” would present itself when I needed it.
So why did I just turn down the $100 Earl had offered me?
Duh!
I
walked back over to him and said, ”Ya know, Earl, I’ve been thinking
about that hundred you offered me, and I think I’ll accept your offer,
thank you. Who am I to turn
down abundance?” He smiled
knowingly, pulled out his wallet, and asked me if I wanted a $100 bill, or
twenties. I chuckled. Isn’t
this great, I thought, not only can I create $100, I get a choice of
denominations!
After
he handed me the money, we shook hands again.
This time he held on to my hand a little longer.
I think I saw tears forming in his eyes, as we stood there, silence
between us, hands firmly clasped. The
cars rushing by faded away, and I realized that I had never had a friend
like him before. We both knew
that I had no idea what lie ahead of me; his eyes belaying concern, yet in
them was a quiet determination -- a knowing, one man to another.
For a moment, I felt as though we were in another time and I was
headed off to war. “Godspeed,”
his voice cracked, “or whatever it is they say.”
***
A
series of lessons were set firmly into motion when I took my first step
out of Key West. Of course,
they were already in motion before that time.
They just weren’t happening with such frequency.
Ironically, these lessons had intuitively been foretold to me, when
The Voice had first whispered the notion of my trip, so long ago.
At the time I left Key West, I just wasn’t ready to remember
that.
And
this was the beginning of my first lesson: to let go of Self, of Ego and
release, completely, my attachment to the outcome of events and my actions
— to live each day by my inner guidance.
I had been trying to practice this for several years, but now, if I
were to survive the trip, I would have to do more than “play” with
this concept.
As
you may already know, Ego is not just that part of us that insists on
getting attention. Ego is also our Self; that attachment we have to our
Earthly existence. I do not
consider it “bad,” for it is something most of us live with — unless
you are the Dali Lama.
When
one releases attachment to the outcome of one’s actions, it does not
mean that they then can act irresponsible, or without regard or
consequence. Rather, it means
that they no longer take a course of action, desiring a certain outcome.
Instead, they allow the Universe, or God, to produce an outcome
that serves the highest good for all involved.
Indigenous cultures around the world have lived this way for
thousands of years. I wonder
what would happen to this country if each of us lived this way for just
one day a week?
As
I wrote you on 2 April, my trip had originally been a private journey of
self-discovery. No fanfare. So
on 2 October, the Universe began to bring my odyssey back to its original
intent. Remember how we have
learned that all things are interconnected -- Nature, Man?
Nothing happens without reason?
And sometimes the connection is in ways that many of us can’t
comprehend completely? I know
now, that is what the deluge of rain was: a cleansing.
Among many things, that is what rain represents.
It also brings new growth, just like the flowers in the desert
bloom after a spring rain. I guess the Universe figured I had screwed up my original
intent so much that it would take two days of nearly solid rain to get me
off on the right (albeit soggy) foot, so to speak.
The
first part of releasing my Ego was changing the way I managed everything.
And this was not easy -- I am still struggling with it.
Since I can remember, I have always been a person to have a Plan B
— in the life that I have lived, it was a necessity.
For instance, from the time I was 4 years old, till I was 16, my
family traveled the country doing acrobatic performances.
A lot of the stunts we did were so dangerous that if we fell,
someone would wind up seriously injured — or killed.
We never worked with nets or pads, so our Plan B was always hours
of practice. In over 9,000
shows and
thousands
of hours of practice, we only had 49 falls -- less than 10 caused serious
injuries.
When
I served on the fire department, a Plan B wasn’t always possible —
that is the nature of the business. Still,
every precaution was taken to protect ourselves, and the people we were
rescuing.
As
a TV and video producer, it is necessary to have a backup plan.
And
so began the contradiction of my journey.
If I were to experience that which had originally guided me to do
begin, I would have to leave my “producer’s hat” off — for the
remainder of the adventure. And
this was something that would take me over a month to fully realize.
As
October progressed, an unspoken tension increased between me, and those
that were at my home base, running the daily operation of the project.
From my point of view, things weren’t running as smoothly as they
should have been. And, they
were feeling the same way about things on my end.
(In reality, each of us was doing the best we could in our given
situations.) This, of course,
is what happens when the Universe decides to put things back to their
original intent — without telling anyone.
Once
I left the Keys, I began to experience a deep fear about where I would
make camp each night. I was now in territory that I knew little about;
where I was hundreds of miles from anyone I knew.
I couldn’t just pick up a phone and say, “HELP!”
My fear was a surprise to me, as I never thought I would experience
it. I thought I had complete
confidence in myself. I found
out I didn’t. In the
beginning, the fear forced me to seek out as many campgrounds as I could.
It was my intent, so of course, each night either a campground or a
kind stranger offered me a place to pitch my tent.
Yet, each day I faced the same concern -- where would I sleep that
night? And I found that the
only way to deal with it was to boldly step into the unknown every
morning.
By
the time November arrived, each morning I stepped confidently onto the
road with a renewed sense of excitement and wonder for the day ahead,
knowing that a place to sleep for the night would present itself by
nightfall.
Till
I write again, I am yours, always . . . .
Robert
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