In the winter of 1990, I spent six weeks traveling in the canyons of Utah and the redwoods of California with a dog, car and oh yeah, a boyfriend. The following year, we bought a small pop up trailer that we towed with a VW Golf and traveled to Ashville NC, Charleston, Okeefanokee Swamp, Edisto Island in Georgia and landed at Mardi Gras in New Orleans just by luck. I was hooked. For the past 25 years I've been wanting to do this again, but one thing or the other made it just not feel like the "right time." So now it is. Me, dog, car. No boyfriend.

Saturday, February 4, 2017

The Buddha on the Bench and Bye Bye Borrego

Following up my last post, I made a promise to go over and talk to a man I had seen sleeping in the park. And I did. His name is Tim.



Tim is happy. I expected to encounter someone who wasn't happy. What a surprise to meet someone who is pretty much the most amazing example of presence and contentment I've ever seen. In his words......

"I just decide to go. And I get on a bus and hitch to wherever. This is my life, it's my choice. No use in complaining about it."

Tim has no agenda AT ALL. He is basically totally in the moment, wherever he is whether he's sleeping on the ground in the park, in front of the library, or in the desert. He has a tiny little foam pad he sleeps on. He's got one of the most gentle and open faces I've seen on an adult. Because he has a snaggle tooth in the front, I couldn't get him to light up his smile and his eyes. This was the ONLY evidence I saw of self consciousness or self loathing, he wouldn't show his tooth. Such a shame cause he had a beautiful smile.

And he was bright, sweet and funny. He's from Kentucky but lives in Alaska.



"I talk to people then I never seen them again." 

This is something I can't really understand and kept pressing him to tell me how he manages to just let people come and go without any attachments.

"What, no Facebook?" I ask.

He just sort of looked at me like, "Well, why?"

And I said "You can keep in touch with people, maybe see them again, maybe when you're in town, contact them" I proposed.

He just sort of smiled and shrugged.

He had a little phone, a little tablet. He uses a little folding 6 watt solar panel to charge up his stuff. He used the library internet to watch movies. Borrego Springs is very tolerant of nomads. They even have public bathrooms in the shopping center that are open all night. And electric outlets outside. And you can take showers at the park for $8 entrance fee.

The park where Tim sleeps has a small farmer's market every Friday. This is where we also had an open mic.



He humored me in his good natured way as I asked my questions, the how's the where's the why's. "Aren't you lonely? Scared? Isn't the ground hard?"

What was truly heartwarming was his generous offer to watch my puppy while I went on a hike. California state parks don't allow dogs on trails. And what was so special about that is that the friend (who I de-friended - see last post) refused to watch my dog even though we had known each other for about a month. "That's not my responsibility" she declared dramatically waving her arms in front of her as she stepped backwards.

Here was a total stranger, cooing to my dog, and saying "it will be a gift to me to get to be with your dog and you get to go on your hike."



I was moved to tears by this person. I literally went back to my car and sobbed.

This  was someone I avoided because of what I thought might be HIS neediness or clinginess, when actually, he has almost no needs at all. And beyond that he was willing to extend himself to a stranger as a way to be helpful.

What a gift.

The next day I told him so, and said that he had made my day.

"You've made mine" he said.

Saying farewell to Borrego Springs, a gorgeous little gem in the middle of the Anza-Borrego desert, heading to Ehernberg AZ where Bob Wells, the creator of the Rubber Tramp Rendezvous is camped with some folks from the RTR.

Map from Ehrenberg, Arizona to Borrego Springs, California

The last sunrise in Borrego at my site on the mountain.






Sunset drive to Ehrenberg.


Next stop Sedona.


5 comments:

  1. Yes, checking in with you Laura. It's Pa'Mella! Love your post about your new friend. Isn't it amazing how we think they are going to be needy, yet he has no needs at all. Love it. I performed my first hour long one-woman show last night. So fun!

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  2. Hey Pamela, I'll give you a call sometime! I've found a wonderful "grandfather fruit" called a Palmello! So I think of you every thing I eat it.

    xox

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  3. Laura, you are fearless in your girl power to stay open, curious, and loving. You're learning and teaching a new paradigm every day. I'm enjoying your posts, they're getting interesting as you dig deeper, along with your discoveries, so thank you for continuing to share! I am singing and songwriting up a blue streak, and taking a winter break from hospice work (didn't want flu shot so not in compliance :-). Mickey and I looking to adopt another rescue, and just trying to maintain zen throughout this winter and all the shananigans of our change agent prez. Love to you!

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  4. Never a dull day, eh? What a journey of discovery!

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  5. Your story Tim is fabulous. You went back and look what you got! I guess sometimes the people that you think will offer you the least offer you the most!

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