Incipient Vagabond--Verily

I have decided to take a journey around the world, through every continent, and taking several years (obviously)... The idea is to take my time and to really listen for what the world has to teach. This is my story.



Day 1:
I embarked today. I failed immediately. I left late, forgot my sunglasses, my water bottle, was unable to sell my rock climbing harness, am broke, and JUST as I found a community of people who I appreciate and who appreciate me, I have to leave. But nonetheless, I am in a very good mood. I was humoring myself earlier that I could speak spanish, and almost eerily immediate after, I got a phone call from a girl I had accepted as a couchsurfer who speaks better spanish than english and asked for complicated directions to my home. I failed.
The weather out is phenomenal. Lots of fog, moreso than Frisco, sweeps up and buries Skyline Blvd on what is probably a regular basis. I was steeped in awe when I was descending the Pacifica side of the hill and was treated to a duskset vista of the sun behind fog, so thick that it looked like the moon, but with yellower light, and completely removed in my vision from the reflected colors on the ocean. Though I'm not one for mysticism, I felt it like a premonition of a dying planet, the sun in its last years.
The reason I am in such an infallibly good mood, is my circumstances. Perhaps I'm lulled into a sense of comfort from the niche I carved out and am fleeing from right now, but I feel set at the beginning of a new stage, the birth of an adventure, after a period of tenuous self-torment and chaotic turmoil, the moratorium of my 20th year completed; I have found my reason in nothing, and a sustainable way to live, to auto-educate, to share my life and beliefs and a way to put myself into again, after the detour that was San Francisco. We shall see. Carpe Omnius.
Spending tonight along some fine piece of California coastline, listening as the ocean coos me to sleep.
I'm currently trippin' on the fact that I have no responsibilities, yet a general mission, which combine to allow me a self-developing itinerary which I contribute to with minimal energy on the daily, making progress, forging ahead, but with no pressure except what the day puts in my way. To pick up a craft or to read and volunteer and meet folks and explore is my sole vocation, to learn from and about nature, nature including people just as it includes physics.

Day 2: The Night of the First Real Day of Trekking.
Today I made about 70 miles, met a felon, picked blackberries, encountered an old acquaintance from a year ago, picked blackberries and random fruit (one was both sweet and spicy), learned that bamboo is freakin' delicious, and got to hang my hammock for the first time. We'll see if I get good enough with it and have a streak of nights being able to use it, I might just ditch my sleeping bag as I get farther south. So I started out early this morning, walked down the last of skyline blvd to downtown Pacifica where there were several stoplights in a row which made for prime hitching territory; unfortunately the first guy who stopped only took me over the hillside to montara--though to be honest I'm kind of glad it was only this long, for this guy kept talking about how just that morning he had been in handcuffs, and the only reason he was out was because he had a surrender date; I suspected him of being a meth maker because he was making vague excuses about "as long as we clean our shit up". Well, I wasn't gonna press it. Not long after, however, I caught another guy to drive me clear down to Half Moon Bay; good distance for a couple of hours of unknown. Then I hit a dry spell; almost an hour of nothing. Finally this guy drives up in a brown van with his cat--haha how cliche. After today, I'm starting to see the truth in many cliches; Santa Cruzans all dress the same, even the kids, and there's STILL VW's with peace signs on the back and flowers in the front. Oh well, culture is culture, and it's kind of nice to know that some things are static. Now I got this fine set-up down in Capitola for the night with a hammock in a tree on a cliff by the sea :)
However, I was wondering at myself earlier today as to why I had no urge to stay in SC--in fact, to keep moving. I finally realized; I have taken to the idea that I need to do work, real physical work, and Santa Cruz is still too close to all that ennui and solitude and boredom that was San Francisco for me. I need, psychologically, to get some more distance between me and it to feel more comfortable with slowing down. But the rest of California doesn't really have much draw for me either--I've already done Santa Barbara and San Diego, and Los Angeles just looks like one big filthy heaving tumor; so I'm torn between the safety of the US and the adventure but unknown of South America. Finally, and in swift closing, I am about out of food since I left my non-perishables at the squat (a bit silly of me, but I was trying to be good about waste and take the stuff that I would decay if I didn't eat it, and leave the boxes and cans for Dan), and I don't get money until October 4th. Gotta stay creative and have my eyes open for all the free food I can forage.
Event: Sitting on the cliffside with my hammock and bongos playing along to Jerk It Out eating bamboo watching the water under the full moon

Day 3:
Already this has been a great trip. Perhaps I should just refrain from judging, because for probably every one of my high moments there will be an equally low one. Oh well.
First I must express that, had it not been for the serendipitous connection with the kids of 509, this may never have happened. Were it not for the silly self-ascribed necessity of saving face when having set a date and failed to embark the first time, I would have delayed yet again. But that is the wonder of community: others can push you to do things you would have never expected alone. This can go up or down; but the fact is the phenomenon.
Now I have seen already many wonders of this everyday world; comedians in Los Angeles, neighbors running into each other in distant places, Barack Obama's inauguration as president, survival while climbing seemingly doomed cliffs, sea otters swimming up to me, waterfalls and badlands and great plains and the vast instance of time that is life on earth; but this journey stands well on its own already. I intend to make it one of my life's works, and thus I must do it well. I have walked half the distance of Monterey Bay just today, playing the Bongo's Fred and Ted, talking and smiling and laughing and jumping the whole way. The natural life in this area is spectacular as well; badgers, racoons, skunks, cats, dolphins, crabs, spiders, ptarmigans, seagulls, other birds I've only seen before in National Geographic.
Needless to say I was pleased to the brim, and it expanded every time I encountered some wonderful friendly person who shared my love for life; and on the flipside my cynical self jumped to the surface every chance he got, creeping in with every disdainful judgment toward folks with issues I've steamed over in the past. Hopefully soon this will fade into a distant whisper; already now I am beginning to love/cherish those I used to despise for their flaws, mistakes, shortcomings, and oversights. As I experience different niches of reality I increasingly develop my awareness that life is still the same, the same phenomena pervade life from physical phenomena, to single-celled organisms, to individual humans and societal organizations. The latest example of this was when I realized that organisms have been "manufacturing" proteins, chemicals, etc, forever, because this is the most efficient way; so it follows that a higher level of organization (corporations) will tend toward that same most efficient conclusion. And that is all okay; we can learn to channel our world, to nourish it and to take appropriate preemptive action to avoid the more dangerous aspects of our nature. Life is still the same and will continue to fight fiercely and enduringly until the world grows cold with old age.

So it turns out the bamboo wasn't bamboo; they are some kind of reed, and they are still damn difficult to get the right stuff out of. But that's okay, because it was a learning experience, and that's exactly what I'm out here for. I love (though sometimes hate) that I am learning by trial and error. That is the way I learn how to make a good bed, to find the right food, what to do when entering a new town, and get practice making momentous decisions. FINALLY, I can become coordinated and capable and action-oriented. This should complement my academic education well. The thing is, so often we get caught up in being told what to do, everything has been done a thousand times before, so we can be assured that anything we do, we can do the right way the first time, or at least have a fail-safe. Not so in nature, mon frere; do or die. So far, the worst that's happened is that I've had to walk a few miles back to town to take care of some business, and have had to climb over a high wall to get to a water fountain, and had to find my way by flashlight and been a bit uncomfortably cold. Hopefully my common sense stays hardy for the bigger stuff in the future. I am cautiously optimistic--okay, a little more than cautiously optimistic.

On a slightly less dapper note, It's very easy for me to start getting down on myself. To start feeling like the stranger. I wander into a new town, LaSilva, and start to worry the locals are going to judge me, to look upon me as an intruder and a morally degenerated individual who slacks off and leeches and is generally useless. But then I remember my experiences in the past, even in hometowns, and I realize that most people are earnest, though they may be a bit wary and apprehensive, though some are totally cool with the wacky stranger. I also still totally can't believe Kaeli was down with me. I feel like it was a trick; way too good to be true. This BEAUTIFUL girl took my compliments in stride and stuck with me; she was even messaging me and apologizing for little things I wouldn't expect others to even hardly pay attention to; absolutely sweet girl, maybe she's just free with her love? I don't know, but I do know it makes me feel like the luckiest man in the world and eases some of my more depressed moments like a little honey on the finger.

I am at the gates of paradise. Perhaps it will not last, but that is okay. Now that I am here I realize that paradise is a perspective, not a place. Paradise can be all around us, in fact omes from within us, but we must be coaxed into letting it speak; for it is the Tao, Nirvana, Atman, enlightenment. It is personified and set apart as God, but this is only because of the limitations of language. But all this has been said before, so I must return to my experience.
[Post edit: After seeing the sunset at Le Selva Beach tonight, I am reconsidering these flowery words above. Paradise can definitely be made much closer with a physical realm that is supportive of life, promotive of our survival. What I mean by that, is seeing the confluence of so many sensory pleasures (colors, sounds) and land, sea, life, and man living in such clean harmony, makes one think that there is plenty for all of us to share, and to continue surviving. Nonetheless, some places require much more energy to be considered as this way, or to be made this way]
I realize, at least, if this turns out not to be Paradise, that this is at least a good life for me; or at least a good period for what should be a whole life for me. For I am able to travel, and work, at my leisure; there is no shortage of distance for me to explore, and presently I may be completely present and not want for anything. Thus I may stay and read and write, moving with the seasons and the weather; I may take refuge in the abundance of humanity's collective achievements, learning skills in exchange for energy and skill and tactility, a few moments of my youth; and by that same vein I can use the wonderful tools of knowledge and common sense to find food for myself; already I have come up with ways of collecting berries, discovered a wonderful shoot which provides a maize-like sustenance, combined foods I would have never thought of before for meals (cucumber, milk and honey?), and volunteered time, work, and conversation for leftover hotdogs, marshmallows, and donuts. In closing, I am at peace in this moment, for I am glad that I can live what I've thought, and do what I speak.