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April 8th, 2012
One might see this as a social experiment to find out what happens to a person who tries to live according to their heart and nothing else. The reason it's dangerous to commit your whole heart to something is because if it's connected to a lot of people and they're all living in a disconnected way you end up spreading yourself too thin. The only solution is to give up on some people and concentrate on others and my heart won't let me do this, but by refusing to I have spread myself too thin which has jeopardized losing connection to all of them. What I've needed is to belong to all of us and though I still believe there is an us I haven't been able to find a place to do this. I've been searching knowingly or unknowingly for a long time and I 've been running on fumes for a couple weeks, now, not knowing where to try next. I know I'm suppose to get a job, find a girlfriend and start a life like everyone else, but that only keeps us separated. I've already tried this too many times and it does not work. I've exhausted my hope that it will improve anything except my own individual situation and that's not good enough because then I'll never have time for us. We are all too busy or too afraid to admit this, but it is not your fault. It is the situation that we're all living in. We lose when we judge one another. Some may realize this, but most are in too deep to do anything about it so they decide they must block it out. Others work the situation well enough that they never question it, but they will eventually realize this, too. Not sure how much longer the experiment will last, but at least I know I've tried and others who are brave enough will be able to learn from it. I can live with that.
Thank you for reading.



March 31st, 2012
I am walking for the National MS Society in their "walk to create a world free of MS" tomorrow, Sunday, in Boston and it would be wonderful if any of my friends could make a $5 donation (just click on the link below). Thanks if you can, no worries if you can't. It's for my cousin's ladyfriend, Mewsette Eyelashes, and my aunt.
Thank you for reading.

*Donate.



March 28th, 2012
I remember one stormy day at work my captain, Jacob, and I notice something was wrong with Job. As we were motoring to our next set of traps 900 feet below on the bottom of the ocean, Job came to me shaking as I sat in the cabin to keep out of the weather. Both Jacob and I looked at Job trying to figured what was wrong with him. The weather wasn't great, but it wasn't cold enough to make him shiver. His face looked sad or scared so we both gave him a pat on the head and I told him to stay in the cabin and keep warm as we arrived at the next set of traps. We were fishing for slime eels, a prehistoric creature that hadn't changed much in millions of years. It lived in the dark depths of the ocean eating sick or injured fish from the inside out. After hooking the buoy it was a few minutes wait before the first trap which was basically a five gallon bucket with a funnel for a lid in the string of 50 was hauled aboard. The eels would swim through the funnel trying to get to the rotting bait in the bottom of bucket and be unable to get back out. They're called slime eels because when alarmed it excretes a milky slime substance to protect itself. This always made it fun at the end of the day when it was my job to empty the giant bait well of them by scooping them out with a big mesh bag I held open with my teeth while dragging it through the slime filled water with my bare arms. After we emptied, baited, and put the lids back on the next set of traps Jacob tossed the south end anchor back overboard and I clipped each bucket on the line as it followed the anchor to the ocean floor. I checked on Job and he wasn't doing any better. I was perplexed wondering if he could be sea-sick, but even though it was a fairly rocky day it didn't make sense because he'd never been before. Jacob set the boat in the general direction of the next set of traps and turned on the auto-pilot as we ate lunch. Then we watched Job walk out of the cabin and up to the front of the 62 foot steel boat. Through the cabin windshield, we could see him standing at the bow with a shameful look on his face when he suddenly went the bathroom on the metal deck. The poor guy had a case of the runs and knew he wasn't suppose to go on the boat, but just couldn't hold it any longer. He must have eaten some bait when I wasn't looking and it made him sick. The mess easily washed away through the holes in the rail with a bucket of ocean water and I assured him that he hadn't done anything wrong. Jacob and I laughed as Job ran around like a new man, or dog. Poor guy. I knew something was wrong, but he just couldn't tell me.

There are times in our lives when something is wrong with someone we care about, but we don't know because they don't know how to tell us. Knowing that we love them is the only reason they would try to. Taking a dump on a boat stinks. Have you walked your dog or told someone that you love them today?
Thank you for reading.



March 26th, 2012
It's a lot easier to love an animal than it is a person. Animals can't lie. They are innocent. They can't hurt us emotionally like we hurt one another. Even in the case of my buddy, Stiles, who could have run me over hurting me physically, but didn't, an animal even if it did hurt us would not be motivated by malice. The question is when we hurt each other "Are we?" What if our hearts are like animals. Wild and innocent and it's learning to understand them that determines how we treat one another. When I suggest everything that I suggest, it's with the conscious assumption that I'm "speaking" to other people who want to learn how to be the best person they can be. Naive as it may sound, I'm still writing to my tribe or at least to those who want to find their own by listening to their hearts. If our hearts are forces of nature, as I've said before, there is no choice in what each of our individual hearts make us feel. We feel what they feel like it or not. The choice is only in our actions. How well we live in harmony with nature may be a reflection of how we our treating our own hearts. Nature is the very thing that gave us life even though our lives are now dependent on many unnatural things in a world which serves our minds much more readily and as result keeps us in a certain state of mind that may not be the best for our hearts. I know it sounds a little confusing, but our natural hearts are combating all the artificial components of our lives at this time in history while still trying to feel human.

When I was working at a zoo a couple years ago, a 350 pound Bengal tiger named Sima who would allow me to scratch her belly until her leg twitched like a dog's would have tore my arm off if the scent of food was in the air. The smell of raw meet at feeding time turned that seemingly docile giant cat until the most ferocious thing I have ever seen in my life. The sounds that came from deep within her and out her open jaws cut through my bones in a primordial way that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, everyday. I loved feeding time. It was a glimpse at something that I would have only seen in a state of nature just before I was about to be eaten. Is this the excitement of being in love when two untamable hearts connect that have been living such a domesticated existence are, now, brought to a timeless place where they can run wild and free? Yes, a caged animal will get use to being free, again, once it has been allowed to roam the forest long enough, but we do not have this luxury in the world we live in though many of us are guilty of getting too use to the privilege of being connected to the heart we have found, if we are lucky enough to have found it, that is most like our own and all it takes is for us to separated from it for a long enough period of time to be reminded of this. When we meet them for the first time, and every time after, they help us remember who we are. Trying to forget them would be like trying to forget ourselves. Love is a selfish thing in this sense because we love them for how they make us feel, but knowing our own hearts allows us to love them as best we can. Our love makes us fearful of ever hurting them because of how helpless it makes us feel. Doing anything and everything we can for them is the best solution as they in turn do the same for us creating a harmony that is balanced by the independent will and actions of two people making one united effort, one unified life and one unified love. We occupy the same dangerous position as sitting beside Sima by being that close to someone else's heart. They could tear our heart out with a single swipe and we theirs. Trust and understanding is what affords us the privilege to have our hearts loved and protected by the wild beast of another's and we can't be comfortable here if we don't trust and understand our own.
Thank you for reading.



March 23rd, 2012
If we don't test a relationship by being ourselves we'll never know who really loves us. You can draw all the conclusions in the world by interpreting someone's behavior without ever actually talking to them and they can do the exact same thing to you, but neither of you will benefit from the relationship. Being yourself isn't as easy as it sounds because you are your heart and your mind and they need to be working together. Love can get wrapped up in fear in a way that they cancel each other out. If you love someone, but you're afraid to say or do something that might upset them so you avoid the possibility you're allowing fear to dictate your behavior more than love which prevents it from being received. In worse cases, someone you love could think you don't and that hurts both of you. Facing your fear gives them the opportunity to love you and even if they don't you've still freed yourself of the fear which allows you to learn to love them in a different way if you're willing to try. The only thing that can stop you from loving someone is you.

Walked out the open gate yesterday, but this time I was completely aware of why? The first step in facing you fears is admitting them to yourself. Fear is the enemy and you need to recognized it before you conquer it. The most crucial factor in facing it is owning it. Don't blame someone else for it. It's your fear not theirs no matter what they do or did. You can make them aware of their actions, but once you have it's all about you. What they do is up to them.

I remember standing in a paddock with a big beautiful Thoroughbred barreling towards me a few summers ago. The woman who owned him was looking for someone to adopt him, so whenever I was at the stable doing an odd job for my friend who owned the place, I'd jump in the paddock and hang out with him for a little while. The owner was giving him up because he was a little too rambunctious. He wasn't mean, but he did tend to intimidate people and the other horses, so he was often left by himself. My friend was trying to implement a new paddock system that had a number of large rectangular areas that the horses could be turned out into surrounded by a track which I installed the posts for to give the horses some exercise. You could open the gate of each area that boardered the track and let horses have at it. I think it was the narrow corridor effect that encouraged them to take off running. It was quite a sight to see them galloping around the perimeter. You could feel the earth shake.

On this day, after goofing around with "Stiles" and giving him big hugs, I opened his paddock so he could do what he was born to do. Run. Oh, boy! Is all you can really say. I had thought long and hard when it was suggested by many of the other boarders that I should adopt him, but I've worked at a lot of horse stables over the years and I know what kind of a commitment it would require to give him the life I'd want to give him and Job and I were barely above being a couple of strays ourselves. He made a couple passes around the track passing me with a gust of wind as I stood to the side. I had finished pouring the concrete for one of the big cross-tie posts over by the wash down area and only had few more minutes before Job and I had to head home to my little off-the grid house on a sunny hill in the forest. Stiles wasn't super eager to go back to hanging out by himself in the paddock, but as he rounded the far corner of the track at full tilt heading right towards me I stepped out into the middle of the narrow pathway. With a big smile on my face almost laughing, I shook my head at him and said quietly almost to myself "You better slow down." He didn't. The closer he came the faster it seemed he was galloping. I said, "Oh, well. Here we go." and kind of tucked my chin into my chest and prepared for impact. With just enough distance to do it at the very last second, he put on the brakes and arrived in front of me one step into a walk, put his head in my chest and I gave him a big hug. The horse world is mostly women and many at the barn that day probably thought I was crazy when I looked up and they were all staring at us, but after I said good-bye to my big buddy and was walking back to my jeep with Job I replied to one of their comments that suggest this, "You can't be afraid of something you love."
Thank you for reading.



March 22nd, 2012
You can't expect things to change if you're trying to change them by doing things the same way you always have. I was packed up and ready to walk through that open gate, today. When I stopped and asked myself "What are you running from and where are you running to?" When you're a proactive person able to make things happen where nothing is from pure initiative, stopping yourself from trying to do this and waiting for things to develop is very hard. Initiative which is normally seen as a good thing can sometimes be motivated by something not so good, pain.

When I came up with the name for this website, I was motivated by my love for one person, but I, also, realized that I could apply it to all my previous walks before meeting her. Whether I was aware of it or not, I was walking for love all those years, too. Maybe I could say I was walking for her even though I hadn't met her, yet. Maybe I could say I was unknowingly walking for my family's love who didn't even know where I was. Maybe I could say I was walking for the love of all the people I met who I never would have if had I not been walking, but as corny as it sounds, now, that I'm not walking at that moment the new places I'm traveling through are inside me and this is helping me love myself. Euhh, this makes me want to puke. Whatever, that's exactly what I need to be working through. I wasn't afraid to start this site or re-start it for the love I had for her. She was so proud of it and loved me for it, now, she won't even speak to me. I've had to work through the opinion that I was obsessing over losing her, but what people don't see is that I wasn't obsessing over her. I was obsessing over love and family and not giving up on one another and truth and being honest. These are the things I believe we're all suppose to obsess over not our cars, iphones, clothes, or money. I don't walk my dog on a 6 foot leash obsessing if he tries to run away from me like so many people in the city. I let him run free and can bring him back with the snap of my fingers because he wants to. I'm obsessing over knowing my heart so well that when I look someone in the eye or hear their voice I know when something's wrong and they love me for it when they want to make it right and hate me for it when they don't. It's what I was born to obsess over. It's what we were all born for.

I'm like some goofy African bird on the plains of the Serengeti doing some crazy dance that only one other goofy African bird will see and say "Holy sh*t! That's the one for me!" Those who get it and are doing their own dance know I'm not obsessing over one girl. I'm obsessing over one love and She, if she's out there, and everyone else who believes in love would never expect any less of me. She needs me to. If doing this goofy dance is what I need to do so she, or they, will recognize me then put another dime in the juke box because I'm dancin for tuff love. What I've been walking, working, and writing for is my tribe. The pain that has driven me in the past is from being separated from them for too long and it might be the pain that drives us all to do things that aren't good for us. Show me a world that is getting better because people aren't obsessing over love and I'll stop this very second. Until then, I'm going to keep trying to show her, wherever she is, you and anyone else what a world can look like if we never do even if it's only as small as mine. Man, I hope the planet doesn't stop obsessing around the sun.
Thank you for reading.



March 20th, 2012
I haven't been to a lot of concerts, but when I was living in Arcata up in northern California which is apparently the pot growing capital of the world Earthdance, a three day music festival, was being held a few hours south of there. I'd recently quit working on a small farm with it's own honey business after learning it was a front for a marijuana growing operation. It was great to learn so much about bees. They're amazing little workers and vital to a healthy ecosystem. The problem was the owner's token honey business was doing too well. He only started it to keep up an appearance that he was making his money legally, but it grew regardless of his minimal efforts and he was buying 50 gallon drums of honey from Montana and having it shipped to his little farm where he bottled it and stuck his local label on it. He didn't trust me because I didn't smoke especially when I turned down his offer to give me 12 plants of my own each worth about $2,500 each which had been left by the young guy who had previously worked for him before drowning in a mountain stream running from police. Becareful not to get on your high horse and judge the man. I've had countless jobs in a wide range of business and they all have hidden lies and morally questionable ways of making it profitable that weren't as taboo as this example, but to me not a whole lot different. I was astounded at what a hidden economy marijuana was in the area. Actually, it wasn't very hidden at all. Hardware stores, nurseries, indoor lighting companies, diesel fuel suppliers all had a stake in it and openly sought out their business. Mom and pop type folks seemed to be doing it, as well. It wasn't uncommon to drive through a rural neighborhood with nice well groomed yards and see homes with two garages. It wasn't very noticable at first, but one would have windows and one wouldn't.

I'd started a landscaping business and one of my customers encouraged me to go to the festival knowing I was new to the area and felt I needed to spend more time having fun. I considered taking her advice because Earthdance was more than a music festival. There were all kinds of educational and informative workshops and lectures on a wide variety of interests from primitive skills, permaculture, art, even quantum physics... plus Michael Franti was headlining. Yes, there were alot of people doing drugs, too, but not everyone was. The coolest thing about the festival was at over 250 other locations all around the world there were other Earthdances taking place and at the same exact moment everyone at all the festivals stopped and had a moment of silence ending with a global "OM" making it the world's largest synchronized sound event. I thought that was pretty cool. I even heard that scientists were able to document with some kind of device that measures energy frequencies that there was a slight shift in the world's energy field at that very moment. I don't know if that's true, but it was still pretty cool knowing that people all around the world at that very moment we trying to unite with one another for peace.

On the downside, dogs weren't allowed at the festival. I can't really blame them for this policy. I'm sure it's hard enough to keep that many free-spirited people under control without adding dogs to the mix. My customer offered to watch Job for me and assured me that he'd be fine. We'd been working on her property for the last few days and Job was already familiar with spending the day in her yard, so I decided to go. The tickets were a little expensive at $200 and they were only taking cash so you know somebody was making a lot of money that weekend, but my customer was right and I needed to lighten up.

I left after work on Friday and drove down to Laytonville, Ca where Earthdance was being held that year with Matt, a young guy who I offered a ride to. He wasn't your typical young person trying to hitch a ride out of Arcata. I'd given a few of them rides since I'd moved to the area and after I'd dropped them off to wherever they were going the smell in the back seat lingered for the rest of the day, a mixture of bud and b.o. Matt answered my ad on craigslist and was clean, neat and ready to travel when I picked him up at his father's house. His family owned a wine business in northern Humboldt County. He brought a small box of top of the line lazer pointers that he was selling for a $100 each. Apparently they are pretty popular at concerts because the really good ones can project patterns of light spanning hundreds of feet which was an ability that Matt used to get the attention of other concert goers. He sold all four with ease, so he actually made $200 by going to the festival. I was a little impressed. At first, I though it was a clever way to make some money, but what I, also, realized was that it wasn't just about being clever. It took a certain kind of mindset that I didn't have. I posted the ad on craigslist to offer other people a ride because I couldn't justify using all that fuel to drive down and back to the festival if it was just going to be me. I was giving something away for free so I wouldn't feel bad, he was profiting off the situation with a clear conscience. There was no judgement on my part from this observation. Even when we got there and parked next to a car full of young girls who were happy to jump in my Vanagon and have a little dinner with us, I couldn't bring myslef to hook-up with the tall pretty one who came around later that night looking for me because earlier I overheard he friends giving her a hard time for flirting with me because she had a boyfriend. Though he checked in with me a couple times throughout the weekend, Matt ended up staying in the tent of a cute girl he met at the festival and caught a ride back with her.

I use to say that the most valuable thing in life is a clear conscience while the most valuable thing in the man-made world is money, and as our priorites continue to head in the direction that they are going it is becoming more and more necessary to sacrifice one in order to possess the other. It sounds like a compelling argument, but the fact that my new friend was able to capitalize on opportunities that I refused to allow myself to accept even when they were throwing themselves at me was clear evidence that no matter what I did on the outside it could never clear my conscience on the inside and I've been finally forced to ask myself "Why?" Obviously, in the case of the pretty festival neighbor or the sketchy pot growing farmer it was a moral issue, but there have been plenty of other instances over the years when the situation did include a boyfriend or breaking the law.

It was hot and sunny. I was walking along a lagoon from one little beach town to the next. Cars were lined up bumper to bumper headed south on this quiet stretch of the Pacific Coast Highway that would eventually bring them back to San Francisco. There were no cars headed north, just a young guy carrying a back-pack with headphones on bobbing along to his music. Why is it that when a heavy set guy has his shirt off, it's because he's hot, but when I guy who's in decent shape does, he's showing off? Whatever, I was hot and I took off my shirt. 50lbs on your back all day will do that to you. I couldn't see very far ahead of me because the roaded winded along the water to my right and the steep grassy banks of the mountains that run along the California coast went straight up on my left. It's funny how when you're on foot passing by people sitting in cars even when you're headed in the opposite direction as them, you still feel like you're getting to where you're going faster than they are. That's not why I was smiling though. I usually only see this many people when I walk through city traffic which I don't enjoy, so it was nice to have a little company on this summer afternoon in such a beautiful place. Little did I know what kind of company was waitng for me around the corner; three girls in bikinis. I hadn't noticed them drive by and stop because there was no place for them to pull-over where I was, but as I looked ahead of me a young lady in a half shirt with bikini bottoms was walking around the bend in my direction. It's a little hard to act normal when such a sight is walking towards you barefoot and smiling. All you can really do is smile back which I did. As she approached, I was wondering where in the world she came from because the next town wasn't for five miles while at the same time asking myself "Is she really smiling at me?", but she was. She stopped when reached me and said "Hi." I pulled out my earbuds and said "Hi" back.
"My friends and I were wondering if you wanted a ride."
"Your friends?"
"Ya, we're parked around the corner"
"Ooh", I said as we both laughed. The laughter felt like it was a way for us to get comfortable standing there beaming at one another with the fact that we shoud feel like we were doing something wrong half-naked in front of all the people in their cars watching, but we weren't. Both of us still kind of giggling, I said "Sure" and followed her around the bend. I had a nice view. I mean of the lagoon and the mountains. Alright, stop.

She hopped in the front seat with her two friends and I tossed my back-pack in the back and hopped in after it. Smiles all around. The young lady driving seemed to be the most conservative of the three shaking her head and laughing at the other two who were turned around and peering over the back of the front seat like two Sports Illustrated swimsuit versions of "Kilroy was here." We exchanged the usual pleasantries like what's your name, where you from, where you headed occassionally interrupted by one of the other two's request to reach back and touch my chest as I sat there agreeing like a prize pig very willingly going off to slaughter. They were headed to a party and wanted me to join them. By that point in my journey, I'd been on foot for six months and had plenty of learning experiences when people who got all caught up in the moment of meeting me invited me to places where I'd be stranded hours later when the novelty or their buzz wore off and it was then clear that they had no desire to give me a ride anywhere, else, and I was going to have to walk out of there to get back on track. Though this was legitmate reason to not take them up on their offer, it wasn't the real one. I've thrown caution to the wind in almost every aspect of life, so there was no way I could allow myself to use taking a chance as an excuse for not going with them.

As we came to the small road that turned off the PCH leading back out to the ocean and to the town where I was headed we pulled over in a dirt parking area. I thanked them for the offer, but told them it probably wasn't a good idea. They were pretty stunned that I didn't come along and I could feel every guy I ever knew screaming in my ear that I was the biggest jack-ass that ever lived. Surprisingly though, it still felt right. Kimberly, the blonde one that met me on the road, hopped out as I was pulling out my back-pack. I turned around and placed it at my feet. She gave me a big hug with her same big smile and as she was wishing me luck on my journey, she paused for a moment. With a cute little smirk looking me in the eye she asked me if she could kiss me and I said "Ok". I wasn't that stupid. It was nice. Then Niaomi, her friend in the middle who was just as attractive, yelled "No fair" and hopped out and ran over to give me one, too, along with her phone number.

As they drove off, I laughed to myself or maybe at myself, picked up my pack and threw it over my shoulder. I crossed Rte.1 and headed down the small road towards town, but as it turns out I wasn't going to have to walk the remaining few miles either. Minutes later, two more girls stopped and offered me a ride. They weren't in bathing suits or as unabashed as the previous ones, but were still very friendly and the cute one driving gave me her number, too. I haven't told this story to brag about how many numbers I got in one day. Plenty of my friends who are quite the ladies men get a lot more in one night of clubbing. The experience was significant to me for the obvious reasons of how nice it felt to get a little positive female attention after spending six months sleeping outside, but, also, because it helps me understand how it's not what a person does, but rather why they do it that determines whether it's a mistake or not. A clear conscience is what allows us to do whatever we do for the right reasons, but we could do everything exactly right in the eyes of others and still have it not feel right to us. To me, the ability to distinguish between what we're afraid to do and what we're not suppose to do is what enables us to keep our table clean and conscience clear. We're suppose to face our fears and heed the warnings of our conscience and this has been like a compass on my journey always steering me in the right direction even when others thought it was the wrong one.

What I recently uncovered after forcing myself to stay in one place longer than I wanted and connect with family I never had was though I've always trusted what my conscience told me to do, or not to do, I hadn't faced the fears that have been part of my mindset beginning at such an early age that I didn't even know they were present. I've rebelled against a lot as I've tried to make my own way through life, pretty much everything I could think of which is suppose to be liberating and has been many times, but when you run out of things to rebel against you're only left with yourself and whatever it is you're afraid of.

That Saturday afternoon at the festival I got a call from a man asking me if I owned a large black dog. I told him "Yes" and he told me that Job was running around the Safeway parking lot in Arcata and barking at people when they tried to get close to him. The man managed to get a hold of Job's collar long enough to read my phone number on his tags. I thanked the man and called my customer who was suppose to be watching Job. When she saw that it was me calling, she answered by immediately asking if I was calling about him and I said "Yes." She asked me if someone had called me because she couldn't find him and I said "Yes." I told her that he was at Safeway which was about a 1/4 mile away. She was relieved and tried to get off the phone with me so she could go get him and I told her she wasn't getting off the phone until Job was in her car. A few minutes later she'd done this and I let her go. Apparently, she had left the gate open in her yard and went out to do some errands. The next day I got another phone call. This time from her. Job was missing, again, for the same reason, but this time she couldn't find him. I left the festival and drove back to Arcata. One concilation was Michael Franti had already performed, so I still got to see him.

It was around midnight when I got back into town and I went straight to the police station to see if they'd gotten any calls about a black dog or worse if they'd found any black dogs who'd been hit by a car. They hadn't. I drove around my customer's neighborhood and over to Safeway, but there was no sign of him. I worked my way through the small city of Arcata along the routes we most frequently took. My landscaping business was totally "green", not to use a word that has been inexhaustibly overused in advertising. I'd built a large 8 foot cart that I carried all my tools in along with grass clippings or leaves from jobs which I pushed around the city. I know I'm crazy, but Arcata is a funky little hub of progressive thinking and it was great for business and a good workout. Everything I did, I did on foot with Job walking by my side or riding in the wagon when traffic was too busy so we both knew the streets pretty well. Block by block I drove through the night until I reached my storage unit on the other side of town where I kept the cart and there he was sitting on the sidewalk in the dark waiting for me. Thank God he was smarter than my customer and knew right where to go. I don't know which one of us was more happy to see the other. The interesting thing is as scared as I was speeding up the highway after leaving the festival deep down inside I knew we would find each other. I know it sounds corny, but it's true. I trusted our connection.

Sitting here on the first day of spring by a lake on a 1,000 acres of land reservation in Dover, Massachusetts where ding-dong can run around on such a beautiful sunny day, I have no idea where I'm headed next or what I'm going to do. It's been great reconnecting with family and having a warm place to sleep and get fed this winter, but we have different priorites and their off-hand solution for me is to get a "real" job and start a family. Unfortunatley because they don't really know me they don't realize this is what I've always wanted and the reason I've never done it is because I've been afraid to get trapped in a system that has only made me feel alone. I know that probably doesn't make sense to most people, but I've been afraid to stop roaming and join the crowd because the crowd seems to think it's acceptable to forget about one another and I don't. Job took off that day because my customer left him alone with an easy way to escape (twice) so he went looking for the person who loved him the most and unfortunately with no disrespect to my family that's what I've been doing all these years, too. When you're kid and you feel alone all the time you start to think that there must be something wrong with you so you find ways to compensate for it ashamed to admit to anyone why you're doing whatever it is you think you need to do until one day even you don't know why you're doing it anymore. My years of traveling have been my way of avoiding situations where I had to eventually tell people how I really felt because I was afraid that if I did I would lose them, but by leaving, or pushing them away, I lost them anyways. Well, if I could write an entry as sappy as this one then I guess I'm not afraid to admit how I feel anymore.

The good news is once you shed and admit all your attempts of trying to be who you think you need to be as embarrassing as the experience might be, you're left with the person you're already suppose to be and that's a good place to start. Whether it was refusing to be with other women in order to stay to true to one I'd never even met or refusing to accept higher paying jobs that that I knew would require me to go along with things I didn't believe in order to please people who weren't even in my life, I've been trying to live up to imaginary standards because I allowed myself to think there was something wrong with me even though my heart has always known there wasn't. By staying true to my heart and the person I thought was closest to it, I've eventually created this opportunity to purge myself of these unreasonable expectations. I've wanted this to be useful to others, but as messy and self-absorbed as getting to this point has been, I'm reminded that it's not so much what I say, or write, as it is why I'm saying it because even if it does come out sounding sappy I'm no longer ashamed of who it leaves me with and I never should have been to begin with. Having the courage to be honest is cool like that.
Thank you for reading.



March 18th, 2012
My fears in writing as honestly as I can are that I'm going to offend those I care about and who I want to care about me or that I'm going to reveal too much about myself and become unaccepted by others. This fear can often do more harm than any mistake I might make. Mistakes can be learned from and forgiveness can be asked for, but fear is an elusive hidden enemy that derives it's power from never being faced.

Sitting on the carpet with Job laying next to me, I can hear the sound of bagpipes a few blocks away over the loud music pumping through the house as a helicopter hovers over the rooftops of this South Boston neighborhood on this sunny afternoon. It's a beautiful day for a St. Patrick's Day parade. I saw a little of it a few minutes ago, but I've snuck away and found a quiet spot upstairs in GQ Hardhat's room away from the March madness. The combination of a 90lb unfixed hunting dog and people under the influence of alcohol is not a safe one in the city. I never bring him to scenes like this, but sometimes you just have to adapt and roll with the situation. I was on my way to Maine to begin construction on a mobile brick oven for my young farmer friend who wants to cook flatbread pizzas at farmer's market's this summer when my plans changed. Occasionally a few people will walk passed us on their way to the bathroom and have a little trouble fitting us into their reality as I sit here and write fitting them into mine. (if they'd just be patient!:)

The night didn't go as I hoped, but we made the most of it and "you can't fail if you don't give up" (-The Last Kiss). I'm realizing as my writing is beginning to include more and more other people, especially people I care about, that what it's becoming is a witness. The tinted windows in the bar made it hard to see inside, so I slapped the 4 foot wide cardboard sign with Prom King's name written on it in big black letters against the glass. It definitely caught the attention of all the people inside the hoity-toity attempt at being more than a place where people get drunk. GQ and I started our search for our cousin last night on foot in South Boston, but had to hop in a cab in head downtown when we determined he wasn't at any of his usual hang-outs. The people inside seemed to be amused at the spectacle of what they could only assume was a drunk guy pulling some kind of St. Patrick's stunt (my cousin has a very Irish name) and though I was having a little fun with it what was motivating me and protecting me from not caring how I looked to anyone as I stood outside on the side walk holding the sign above my head was the pride I had for loving my cousin and that of my other one who was willing to help me find him. Obviously I didn't need a sign to do this, but what it really said was "I love my family" and who wouldn't carry one that said this. We found him in there and I got to give him a big hug ...or two and he gave us a shot...or two.

I don't go to bars much and my steel-toe work boats and faded carhartts attested to this, but that's where he was so that's where we had to go. I felt pretty silly not having much interest in talking to the attractive young ladies he was with, but I was only there for one reason and that mission had been accomplished. GQ and I politely hung out with him and his "friends" for a little while and I reminded myself of the promise we made to one another the last time we saw each other that we need to spend time together doing something other than going out drinking which means I need to focus on finding other reasons to stay in one place long enough to allow this to happen. I've been all over Europe, in all 48 states, lived in almost every major city, had hundreds of jobs in a countless variety of fields, but all I've ever wanted was to belong. What I want to belong to is an "us" and I've gone anywhere and done anything to find those who believe an us exists. The one place I haven't looked hard enough was the place that scared me the most and that has been inside myself which is maybe where we all need to be looking.

I wish Dr. Billy-Bob was there, but after he agreed to drive up from the Cape to save me the trip of going down to get him he decided not to come at the last minute. I was disappointed and almost took off on the freeway to God knows where as I was driving towards Boston, but I turned around and went back because we can't find new ways of dealing with things until we stop blindly reverting to old ones. A lot of times fear and wounds are what caused them to form. Talking about them, or writing about them if we have no one to talk to, allows us to begin to see them for what they are and not what are minds try to turn them into by keeping them locked away. The truth is I was afraid to ask Billy-Bob to come and I was afraid to tell Prom King I wanted to see him, but there's a sign leaning against the wall in GQ's condo that says I don't want to be anymore and that's a good place to start. This is how bearing witness helps us not judge ourselves or keep us from being trapped by the fear that others might. There are witnesses to crimes and miracles. If we trust our hearts we we can take one and turn it into the other.
Thank you for reading.



March 17th, 2012
What do you do when someone hurts you and that pain is greater than your ability to rise above it and love them or maybe even love anyone else? I'll show you. Pay attention because you can't do it alone.

Dr. Billy-Bob is refusing to head into South Boston with me to see his cousins, GQ Hardhat and Prom King Financial. This is where the petty little b.s. that kept our parents apart so we didn't even get to grow-up together stops. Billy-Bob and Prom King met for the first time last St.Patrick's Day. They are grown men and they are great men. Billy-Bob, being a simple country boy who moved to Mass from upstate New York, got a little overwhelmed by the party scene that Prom King comfortably rolls in and there was a misunderstanding. Our family left us kids to our own devices and now that we're adults it's up to us to stay together. GQ Hardhat and Prom King, who are like brothers, now, even though they didn't know each other either until they met as adults, are out and about in Southie and may not even be together, but I'm going to drive down to Cape Cod drag Dr. Billy-Bob's big 6'5'' country ass into the car, drive to South Boston, find GQ Hardhat and Prom King Financial, who's the most popular likeable guy you'll ever meet, but got the shortest end of the stick when it comes to our family's refusal to deal with itself, and make each of them say they love each other or they're sorry or whatever else needs to be said to keep us together. I'll have to start with myself for writing all this and for roaming the country and not being around all these years. If they don't care or don't want to cooperate then at least I know I tried and I'll try, again, the next time and the time after that and the time after that because what do you do when someone hurts you and that pain is greater than your ability to rise above it and love them? You try. We've all been hurt and we, all, need to keep trying. Where there's a Will, or a Bill, there's a way. How ya like them apples?
Thank you for reading.



March 12th, 2012
The loft of the barn is decorated with Christmas lights. Couches and coffee tables make it an inviting nest to sit and chill in as some Citzen Cope flows from big wooden speakers along the wall. Through the spaces in the old barns boards I can see the flames of the bonfire across the yard in the field on a lily pad of snow and the silhouette of friends sitting and standing around the fire. I'm the only one up here and far enough out of sight from everyone hanging out in the barn below that I close my eyes and dance (don't laugh) as the memory of someone whose never been here burns in my chest. I didn't write to her yesterday. I've been writing to her everyday for the last three weeks since I broke my silence on Valentine's Day (what a pain in the ass holiday) on a hidden page that only she can find. Somethings are just too important to constrain into the limits of a silly game my ego plays keeping score about who said what to who when.

I learned how to install a counter into a web page last spring after I was walking through an affluent neighborhood on the coast of California one sunny afternoon when two gentleman who represented a water company approached me and said they wanted to sponsor me on my walk. I'd never been too interested in this sort of thing, but funding these trips myself on a farmhand's wage over the years has limited what I can do with them so I decided to entertain the idea. I needed to figure out how many "hits" per day my website at the time was getting to learn what kind of advertising exposure I had and that's when I taught myself how to install a counter. Again, I'm far from being a webdesigner. You can make the counter hidden or exposed. I know a counter on a website is not a mysterious thing, but when you decide to hide something there's a reason for it. Here's where I shoot myself in the foot, if I haven't already.

I hid one on the secret page I made for her and it read zero for the longest time until the day after Valentine's Day when it read "1". My heart nearly stopped. Someone had checked it. The email I sent wishing her a nice holiday was short and honest. There was nothing in it about this website. There were no attempts to get her to talk to me and no mention of the hidden page I'd made for her. I was just wishing her a happy Valentine's Day because that's what my heart told me to do. If she was going to learn about anything else it was going to have to come from the fact that she wanted to. She was going to have to take the initiative to check this website and then find her page. I've only sent her a few emails in the last year and only called her twice, once last summer when I got back from California to say "hi" and once on her birthday about a month later. I don't even have her phone number anymore. None of this is a game. It is simply my way of letting her decide how much contact she has with me while I do my best to stay true to my heart without disrupting her life because I was the one who ended it between us. It was my mistake not hers and I have to live with it, but she still has a right to know that I still love her.

Everyday from that day on when I wrote her a message on her page, the counter increased by one. I wasn't trying to win her back. I was only trying to earn back her trust and stay true to how I feel about her. If we trust each other, our hearts will do the rest and do what's best. After about a week, I confessed to whoever was reading the page which I could only assume was her, but have no way of knowing for sure that I'd installed a counter. I don't like hiding things. I believe if you have the opportunity to be open about something that may be a little scary to you it is a chance to become stronger and show others that there is nothing to be ashamed or afraid of. If anything was going to come from this it had to be built on honesty. I apologized for hiding it, but it was my way of finding out if she still secretly cared. I thought by telling her it would cause her to stopped reading, but it didn't. So everyday I wrote and everyday someone checked. I stopped writing a day ago and stopped checking the counter. I'm not sure why. It made my day to know that it could be her reading my messages, but then yesterday something changed and it didn't feel right anymore. I don't mean right in a moral way, but in the way that it wasn't what I was supposed to be doing anymore. Am I finally letting go and saying good-bye? No, I never will. Love isn't about ownership or labels. It can take any form. Maybe she got married this weekend and somehow my gut knew. I don't know. I realize how crazy this possibility sounds seeing as though our relationship ended in an airport 2 years ago in the wake of a disastrous attempt to roll the dice on love when almost everyone told us it was crazy. It wasn't crazy. It was bold and brave. I'm not crazy and anyone who thinks I am has never been willing to have a real conversation with me. This world we're living is crazy and if you don't think so then you are. I've been completely respectful of her situation and have been absolutely clear about wanting what's best for her even if I never get to see her, again. Being confronted with the challenge of staying true to what we had regardless of the outcome is something no one I know would ever do, but it didn't change the fact that I know it's what had to be done. People need to stop giving up on one another especially when things become difficult. This is when we need to remain true the most.

She could think I stopped writing because I was heading to a party with a lot of old friends which I mentioned in the previous day's entry and didn't have time, but that's definitely not it. Sitting in a beach chair by the bonfire later in the night looking around at the cool youngish outdoorsy entrepreneur type crowd of friends I made years ago, I didn't want to forget how I felt about her. Forgetting doesn't change anything. Finding someone to share our lives with is something I think we should all do, but rushing into it doesn't change how we feel about anyone else. Feelings are real. They don't go away even if we choose to try to forget them. They are not a choice. Our only choice is how we are going to handle them. The best decision any of us can make is to choose the best person based on these feelings we share them with that makes us more connected to them than anyone else and the only way we do this is by admitting our feelings not by blocking them out. Admitting them is how you build trust in your own judgment and how others who trust their own learn to trust yours. It all takes courage and we need to be brave enough to show others that there is nothing to be afraid of by doing this. She is probably not happy about the fact that I've shared all this.

If I'm sharing this even though I'm afraid you might be mad, I'm sorry, but it still builds trust if it's true. This what I'm going to prove to you and everyone who's brave enough to look at the truth. Our feelings know what's best for us even when we don't if we trust them and this takes a lot of practice and a lot of support. If we never have this support we may never try. Neither one of us had this when we met, but we still tried and so do many other people. I believe in people who are this brave and in the support they deserve and I have to be willing to it give it to everyone I love. It's not up to me how they use it. This is why I shared this tonight because we can't earn or offer trust if we never put ourselves in a position to need it.
Thank you for reading.



March 9th, 2012
I'm sitting in a 20 minute safety class on my fourth assignment from the labor office. My favorite was my 3rd delivering and unloading sheet rock all day. I love getting paid to work out. It's one of the only perks of being a laborer. The woman behind the desk who has grown to like me put that one aside just for me because I was the only one she felt good about giving it to. Oddly enough most of the workers at the labor office aren't able to do heavy labor or don't want to. Today, I'm at an all day car auction where car dealership owners come and bid on vehicles they want for their lots. I'm here as a driver. My job is to hop in a vehicle out in the lot, drive it into the building where an auctioneer rattles of prices at hundred dollar intervals until the final price is neared then amidst the vibrato of numbers the word "outside" is inserted unnoticeable to anyone else, but me and I drive the vehicle back outside and park it as the final bid is taken, jump in another car and do it again. There are thousands of cars and trucks at the auction. I've made more money in one hour on most jobs I've had than I'll make all day here. As I'm leaving the safety class of about 20 guys a small portion of the hundreds that are here this morning, picking up my reflective vest and a plastic card with a bar code on it which gets scanned every time I get in a vehicle, I try my best to not give off a snobbish air. It's not easy as I strain to find anything resembling work ethic or preparedness in at least a one or two of the other drivers, flaggers and wipers. The expression on my face is one you might use at a wake where you didn't know the deceased and you're waiting in the back of the funeral home for the friend who you brought as family members pass by you. I remind myself that I'm not here for the money. I probably would've made more collecting cans along the road with a trash bag if I had walked here. I'm here to stay productive and nothing more. Productivity is like momentum the more you invest in it the more momentum you build.

The closest thing I felt to fulfillment by the end of the day was the light in the eye and the relief on the face of the lane boss who after talking to me and watching me take a vehicle or two in and out of the building couldn't have been more thankful that both my shoes were on the correct feet and the words coming out of my mouth were audible and being spoken without long empty pauses between them as if waiting for a train of thought that might never arrive. He asks me to come back next week and I smile and say "I'll try", but I think we both know I won't be. This little experiment is over. I was just buying time until I decided where I was going to head next on my journey and by the looks of my paycheck which they give you at the end of the day another perk of the lavish life of a day laborer I think I bought enough time to pay for the gas it cost to drive here, but my momentum is priceless.

Where do we go from here? As I'm sitting in a SAAB going for 40 grand and all these men are bidding, standing around waiting, walking by towards a different vehicle, or just shooting the sh** and I've already compared the social hierarchy between the appearance and demeanor of the drivers and that of the dealers based on money in how it is ingrained in us by the system we live in and I'm somehow sitting inside the prize pig they're all doting over, I see the absurdity of it all and how none of them appear any different from one another compared to the nature they seem to have strayed so far away from. How do I get back to love from here? Unfortunately and with no offense intended, I see them as the cattle crowding around a bale of hay that the farmer just tossed onto a muddy field unaware that they are not cows, but human beings with an awareness that was not intended to serve the purpose of determining how "good" they look in their designer clothes in the reflection of the tinted windows rolling pass them or in the make and model of the shiny little go-cart I am driving that will take any of us anywhere, but here. At least lugging sheet rock had a purpose. Writing about it is my way of being aware and maintaining the movement not forward and away, but more like the ocean of the present moving through my gills bringing me to a place that I will most likely visit by car as well, but can, also, get there by simply getting off the ride and walking outside refreshed to feel the air around me and the earth under me knowing it is what I belong to and here I am...and I sware I don't even smoke grass. I just like laying in it.
Thank you for reading.



March 8th, 2012
I've been trying to steer the bus back in a direction that serves both purposes, having something to offer others and giving myself an outlet for what I feel. I've been working on ways to take what I started here and turn it into more. Again, give the energy something good to do or it will find something bad to do. I've definitely been feeling guilty for not writing everyday like I used to. My confession is I have been. I just haven't been posting it here. I've been stuck between the two reasons I started this site and have opted to stay loyal to it's original inspiration. If this is all about love those who get anything out of it, know exactly what I mean.

But, there is an us and we are very important to me. What I've realized with new found clarity is how powerful the truth is once it's been brought to light. If we are wired to get our inspiration and motivation from the truth, and I believe we are, then to keep us feeling powerless all a person or organization has to do is avoid acknowledging the truth. If you are free of fear and shame, it doesn't matter whether someone agrees with what you feel is true or not. It only matters that they are willing to take a stance on it. The tactic of avoidance is very effective in keeping people under control whether in a relationship or a nation, but if they openly refusing to accept the truth they are admitting it exists and if they do this all the power inherent in its amazing and beautiful composition is available to you and that's a very powerful thing. The hard part for each of us is to find the courage to rebel against our own fear and to do this we have to first admit this fear exists instead of habitually avoiding it like we always have.

I used to think I had to be walking across America or doing some other outlandish thing in order to deserve to be heard, but it never provided what I wanted it to because it didn't address the fear that caused me to think I had to do these things. Now, I know the only thing anyone needs to do to be heard is be willing to stand in the light of the truth about everything starting with themselves. This is where it starts. If you want to point your finger at something you want others to see because you feel it is true, first point it at yourself and display the courage you are wanting them to have in order to see, accept, or care about what's on your heart.

Well, that sounds like a bunch of lofty bull shhhhh... Not that I think a person needs to religious to have a lot of faith because I do and am not, but the Bible says in Matthew 6:24 "No one can serve two masters. Either he will hate one and love the other; or else he will be devoted to one and despise the other." Anyone who loves someone or something and wants to obey that love knows that everything they do has to align under that purpose even if it requires sacrifice and compromise just as long as it doesn't sacrifice and compromise this love. If a person, I almost said "I", but my fear stopped me, wants to make love their master then they can't be afraid to need it themselves and this is where many of our fears are greatest. Sometimes it's easier to love what is outside of us like a child, pet or another person because we see them for who or what they truly are sometime even despite their own attempts better than we can see ourselves. My fear of daring to say I want to make love my master I think is the healthy kind of fear more akin to respect because it's actually something I want to say and know to some degree what this requires. I am not ready to join both my two purposes, but looking forward to it. I say it's a healthy fear because I willing to acknowledge it and smile as I do so. Actually, now that I think about it, it's not even mine, but it's one I am happy to carry. I can't wait for the chance to show as many people as I can how powerful the truth about love is.
Thank you for reading.



March 4th, 2012
Got out of work late last night after working security at the BU vs. Northeastern Univ. hockey game. Won't be taking a work assignment like that again. Checking bags and telling people they can't bring in a bottle of water or snacks they just bought because they didn't buy it in the arena and watching them disgruntled throw it in the trash barrel is not my kind of work. I actually played hockey in the arena in what feels like another life. Awesome game though. NU won in overtime. It would've been cool to catch some of it, but I was out front standing in the empty lobby once the game had started with my new buddy, a young brother who served in Afghanistan and shattered his shin in an explosion and is now home doing whatever he can to find work.

It's funny how dealing with your own baggage can help someone else or at least build a connection with them that who knows where it will lead in the future. We weren't allowed to use our cell phones while working though the cop on door detail with us had his head buried in his blackberry all night with both thumbs going hard and something tells me it wasn't work related. My new friend and I managed to talk and joke about anything that might break up the monotony of standing there doing nothing for three hours. My old friend in NYC, a carpenter from Maine who decided to tackle the big city a few years ago to see what all the fuss was about, called six times while I was working, completely unheard of for him. With a lot of suck it up, truck it in and git-r-done, he'd single-handedly started his own construction company in the metropolis where he was often the only "American" actually doing his own labor. I called him back when I left the rink.

With one foot out the door, he'd had his fill of the machine, been there, done that and was packed and ready to head back to a Maine a year ago with his business ending one a very successful note when fate took a hand like it often does and he met the kind of woman he could see himself spending the rest of his life with. He stayed and she's, now, looking at paying 3,600 a month on rent after her roommate informed her that she'd like to move out. Metro Maine Man's girl wanted him to move in and he was faced with giving up his little place on the outskirts of Brooklyn that along with her love was his only refuge from the city. Carpenters who actually do their own work can't make that kind of money so instead of trying to swing it he told her he didn't feel comfortable putting his financial stability in her hands who makes a lot more in the marketing business. She has a son from a previous marriage and 3M's natural instincts to want to be a man who can provide what he needs to for her and her little boy who he's grown to love as well kicked in and it was too much of a risk because he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he failed. It didn't go over well. His delivery didn't help which was coated with defensiveness because of the fear it stirred in him. After a 3 hour phone conversation, he and I uncovered that his fear was based on having to take the kind of abuse a contractor must take from rich customers who can't change a light bulb, but think they can leverage him with disrespect and refusal to pay knowing he can't tell them were to go because he needs the money too badly now that he wouldn't just be covering a bachelor's overhead. What he couldn't see was she had faith in him and their love, but what she couldn't see was there was something blocking him from doing the same that had nothing to do with this particular choice he was making. This is when things get too personal for two people alone to keep an objective perspective.

Digging deeper, his disdain for biting his tongue in these situations was rooted in a childhood experience when he was forced to fend for himself in the boarding school version of Lord of the Flies. Beatings were a common occurrence when teachers and staff were not present and though he was a tough kid there was only one of him and too many of them. When you're young there's always someone a little older and a little bigger to take on. After a few beatings and a few months of living in fear he managed to establish himself in a position where he was working the controlled environment and captive audience of the boarding school to his advantage and pitting every threat he faced against another until he was orchestrating the whole ordeal like Hitler's version of the Great and Powerful Oz. It was an accomplishment and a testament to his intelligence and vision, but it was the most miserable time of his childhood. One of his most troubling memories was early on when a new kid was set to be ambushed by one of the bigger Neanderthal students there on an athletic scholarship who got a group together which included my friend to jump the new boy. The bigger student lured him out back behind the dorms one night with friendliness and deceit only to pummel the life out of him as the rest of group waiting in the shadows joined in the frenzy. My friend disguised his efforts by placing his body over the kid as he pretended to fall on top of him as he was hitting him. When it was over and the rest of them had dispersed he took the kid inside and try to help him get cleaned up, but his efforts did little to wash away the shame and fear he felt.

Though it all made complete sense to him as we were talking, it was going to take a day or two for him to process it all. He'd been seeing situations this way for a long time. Whether he has realized it or not over the years his contempt for deceit and phoniness is triggered when he finds himself in situations where he can't speak his mind and must tolerate what he does not agree with. Participating in and condoning this type of business with these kinds of people was indirectly condoning what happened to him as a kid which he can not and should never have to do. His fear of having to do this is what caused him to react negatively to the idea of being trapped in these types of situations in order to care for those he loves. He was completely torn and heartbroken when he called. The dynamic of the unknown source prevented him from using his heart for her, but rather it caused him to use his mind to protect his heart from her. Hidden shame was the enemy. It started even before he arrived at the boarding school in the reasons why he was sent there to begin with. He was dyslexic, but no one knew and his parents sent him to the boarding school because his teachers at his previous school said he was lazy and not doing his work. Having no one to rely on emotionally he has only been able to gain perspective and clarity by the means of his own abilities which are far above average, but can never replace what other people can do for us. We are part of an interconnected system of emotion and energy which is beyond our comprehension and control that we can only participate in naturally and healthily if we accept that one, or even two people, can not do it alone no matter how smart we think or the man-made system tells us we are.

Physicists tell us that energy can never be gained or lost, but only changes forms. A ripe apple can fall to the ground and be eaten by a deer which the deer turns into energy it can use. If the deer doesn't eat all the apple that part will be left to rot and decompose back into the ground becoming a different form of energy in the soil. Gasoline in the tank of your car is used to create a controlled explosion in your engine which harnesses that energy to make your tires turn moving you down the road. The energy in the gas, also, changes into other forms like the exhaust that comes out your car's tailpipe. The difference in these two examples is as the energy in the apple changes forms it is always readily available to a wide range of uses by its surrounding environment whether it's a deer, a person, a worm, a fruit fly or microorganisms in the soil eating it. The energy taken from the gasoline is very primitive and used crudely (no pun intended). There is no natural relationship between gasoline and your car. It is an artificial and forced relationship and at no point during the process can energy from it be used by the surrounding environment in fact the energy create is harmful to the surrounding environment. This is why it is not sustainable.

If love is the energy that connects us all, then pain is when that energy somehow gets trapped inside us in a form that is hard for us to see or use. It bangs around in our hearts and minds doing a lot of damage. If we don't deal with our pain, but keep it locked down and hidden away we are not preventing it from affecting us or those in our life, but only allowing it to affect us and those in our lives in a way we don't choose. Whatever pain we refuse to deal with we transfer to those we share our life with and pass it down to our children. If we care about the people in our life and would never want them to feel the pain that we have felt we must deal with it or we will be in fact subjecting those we love to experience the same pain alone as well. The experiences we have that trigger us to react negatively or disproportionately are like bright flares our hearts are sending up to lead us to be a better place as better people.
Thank you for reading.



March 2nd, 2012
I walked off the street into the labor office's lobby. Chairs are scattered to my right in the semblance of a two rows. There's a handful of men seated in them, two of who in the back row against the wall have their faces buried in the collars of their winter jackets and are sleeping. I become aware of our difference in appearance as walk past them and up to the chest high counter I later learn is at this height as a precautionary measure for the protection of those who work in the office. The large square room is somewhat barren containing the L-shaped barrier counter, the meandering rows of chairs on one side and a coke machine in the far corner on the other. I do my best to not pester the effeminate gentleman behind the counter who doesn't seem to be in a very good mood while learning what I need to do in order to check in for my first work detail. I'd stopped by the office the previous morning and filled out all the necessary paperwork to find a temporary job. The nature of the questions on the placement test seemed to suggest they are geared towards a person who may have just gotten out of prison designed to determine how strong of a tendency the individual has to steal, do drugs or become violent. An hour later I finally finish at the counter and leave for my first assignment with another worker who I agreed to give a ride to. Apparently, I am quite a commodity with a valid driver's license and my own vehicle. Yes, my life is a social experiment.

The work is fine. It's really no different than union type work I've done in the past except that I'm literally making 4 times less the hourly rate though I'm sure the labor company is charging a union rate for us. I can't believe how any of the men can even live off what we made in an 8 hour day. They're actually a nice group of guys. There's 6 of us all together. The other 4 car-pooled with one of the other workers since I have a truck and could only take one with me. I overheard the foreman mention how the labor company charges his company a transportation fee for getting the workers to the jobsite, but they made it clear to me that I should get gas money from any of the guys I give a ride to and not from them, so they're making money off us for that, too. I wasn't and don't plan on making any of these poor bastards pay me for gas from the measly amount they're already getting paid. Not to be mean, but it definitely feels as though I'm working with a group that arrived on the short bus and one of them smelled so bad that it was hard to be in the same room with him.

I'd never done it before, but I thought I'd try to use a temp agency to to find some work until I decide what direction I'm heading in with The Truth Farm project. My days of just picking up my back-pack and heading out on the road without much planning are over. I've rid myself of the pain that drove me to do this, so I'm going to plan properly and accomplish a lot more not to mention chip away at Job's vet bill, who is completely back to normal and running around like a pup, again. I've got an opportunity to manage a remote youth hostel/farm in Georgia which is very similar to what I'd like the Truth Farm to become when it reaches it's physical form. I've never had trouble finding work when I decided I was going to stay in one area for a little while, but I always felt awful about quitting when it was time for me to move on. The temp work allows me to only work for as long as I want to without the guilt of leaving even though they've been offering me higher paying gigs that are coming up next month hoping I'll stick around.

This is all a perfect example how money, something everyone needs and has accepted as normal to need, undermines community. I'm trying to figure out which job I am going to take from the farms I've spoken to and how much money I should be paid while they're trying to figure out which employee they're going to choose and how much they're going to pay this person, and this is all some big covert secret from one another which is completely unnatural. Yes, when handled by classy forthright people it can be done in a fairly smooth method, but only because those involved have the special ability to rise above the inherent hidden agenda of the process. I hate it. Every person deserves to work and the work every person does should have value. Far too frequently, there is no correlation between how hard a person works and how much money they make. The notion of "it's who you know versus what you know" creates an automatic distrust in our fellow coworkers while those creating this environment profit from it.

When I was a kid, trash was picked up on Friday mornings. A big truck drove down the road with two men riding on the back of it. I use to think how fun it looked. Well, the trash was a little smelly, but riding on the back of the truck looked fun. Now, it's just one guy who never even gets out of the truck. A giant mechanical arm picks up the containers and does all the work for him. Modern technology is pretty impressive, so impressive that they're are a lot more people on the planet now than when I was a kid and the job that three men had is now only given to one while he, or she, doesn't get any exercise and the rich person who owns the trash company makes more money. Yes, human beings are so amazingly intelligent that we continue to master the game we've invented of making as much money as possible by doing as little work as possible. Well, I'm starting to feel like I'm being negative and that's the last thing I want to do. I'm not making a lot of money through the temp agency, but it's serving a higher purpose of keeping me working which every person needs to feel like they're doing. Work is a beautiful and natural thing and if not enough people believe this or experience then it's not a reflection of them, but one of our system that we gradually need to render into a more natural form. The game and all it's compromises is what has given work negative associations. Real work is purposeful. It is suppose to help us find our place in the group not keep us separate from it. I've said it a hundred times and I'll say it a hundred more. We can not outsmart life we can only outsmart one another. If you think you have figured out a way, you're only outsmarting yourself. This is not the environment we should want to perpetuate. Following our hearts and being willing to do the work it lays out for us is the way back. I'm ready.
Thank you for reading.



February 29th, 2012
Recently, I kicked down a door with the words SHAME written on it and found a scared lonely little kid sitting in the dark. Then I kicked down the walls of that room and we found ourselves surrounded by a beautiful field. I picked him up and put him on my shoulders and we went for a walk. I told him he has nothing to be ashamed of ever again. We laughed as we walked in the bright sunshine. Eventually, after he felt comfortable enough he got down to run and play. It was a wonderful day. We came to a small pond and I laid down in the grass and closed my eyes as he explored it's banks. He probably ended up getting too close and got his sneakers all wet and muddy which freed him even more and he got even muddier. I just shook my head and smiled when I heard squishy feet walking up to me. He laid on his stomach looking at me smiling with the world's biggest grin. I smiled back. The look on his face revealed that it was almost as if he never knew life could be this good. I just paused for moment and said, "Ya know, there might be others." As I watched his face waiting for him to comprehend what I was saying, his smile faded into complete attention and I asked, "Should we go find them?" He silently, but with all the seriousness that a little boy can muster, nodded.
Thank you for reading.



February 28th, 2012
Why Walk4Love?

If you got to choose what your life would stand for, anything in the entire world, what would you choose? Well, you do get to choose, but not in the way you think.

Most people believe that free will is the ability to make choices from a wide range of possibilities. This is not exactly true. Free will is actually only one choice. The choice to accept the truth or not. The truth never changes. Yes, we can think of an infinite number of possibilities before making any decision, but there is initially only one choice ever to make and that is the choice of acceptance. Acceptance is actually the hardest choice to make in life because it requires us to admit that we are not free, we are not in control and that we do not have any choice regarding what is true. Our only choice is whether to accept it. If we refuse, then, yes, we will have an endless amount of options to choose from all of which oppose acceptance and make us feel like we are in control, but will never change the fact that we are not. Once you refuse, life gets very complicated, stressful and confusing. Free will has an underlying suggestion that we are in control. If we accept that we are not, then life becomes a journey rather than a power trip. We still get to choose how we are going to make this journey, but the amazing thing is the choices we make shape our journeys in a uniquely beautiful way specific to us yet they all represent and lead to the same place. They are not a struggle. They are a dedication to what we know and have accepted is true.

It has taken me a long time, but what I know and have accepted is true is that we are all connected and that connection is called "love".
Thank you for reading.



February 26th, 2012
Sleeping in the back of my truck tonight with Job, the sleeping bag hogger, it actually feels like winter for a change. We drove out to western Mass. to check a farm that's looking for an Ag. Manager, but got here just after their farm store closed at 6, so rather than be one of those people who shows up somewhere after a place closes when everyone's trying to leave, I decided to head back into the funky little town it's near, crash in the truck, and stop by first thing in the morning. I've done this sort of thing to help me get a job everywhere I've traveled, but it's amazing now that I've recently rid myself of the shame I've carried all my life which is much heavier than any back-pack how much easier it is. I have to be careful I don't land a job that I don't want though that's the flip side. It's a different world, today, because I see it through new eyes. I've got a job waiting for me in Maine on the farm I used to work on if I want it. Blah, blah, blah, this site is called walk for LOVE not walk for work.

So I'm down Cape Cod last Saturday night to see my cousin, the doctor. I need to give these guys names or ask them if it's ok to use their real ones. I've got too many cousins, now, to keep track of, which is a good thing. GQ Hardhat is my cousin who dropped a big chunk of change to save Job at the hospital the night before. I will have to mention it was a Friday night and he took a cab to the hospital for a reason. I seemed to notice a little plastic bracelet around his wrist and it wasn't the kind they give you at the hospital. Regardless, he found out about the situation, got himself there, and did what he did without being asked. He didn't have to be. He knew I couldn't and he could. That's family. So tonight, I'm down the Cape to meet up with Dr. Billy-Bob, he's my big country boy cousin from upstate New York who recently graduated with a doctrine in clinical physical therapy to focus his concentration of expertise on helping people who have muscular sclerosis inspired by the love for his mother, my aunt, who was diagnosed with it when he was a little boy. Dr. Billy-Bob is already on the dance floor. His pretty young lady friend is up from NYC and there's a decent cover band in this quaint little bar near the ocean. The cougars are out in packs and he looks like a big chunk of steak out there without her protection. She is a great sport about it. It's pretty loud, but her and I manage to have a conversation over the music as we sit at the bar laughing and watching him. We're laughing with him, not at him. I promise Billy-Bob. It's good to talk with her. It may be our first actual conversation since they met on New Year's eve this year in Killington, VT. It was even louder that night. They'd met during the day that weekend not at a club, just for the record. She tells me that I don't have to babysit her and if I want to join "John Travolta in flannel" I should, but two dudes dancing in a small little place like this might be too much testosterone in touch with their love to dance than these folks can handle. There's plenty of middle-aged men here, too, and it just felt a little unfair for us young-ins to hog all the cougar love. I'm sure there's a better balance of young and old during the summer, but it's still great to see everyone out having a good time with live music during the winter. Gotta love locals. They're what keep a place alive.

Dr. Billy-Bob and NYC Kitty share a dance and head back to their hotel just down the street leaving me to fly solo or to take off with my tail between my legs. Though I wasn't really feeling it and the funk I've been in for the last couple years was still weighing heavy on my shoulders, my tail better start wagging because you only live once. I wait for the right song and the right opportunity to slip across the dance floor against the tables that have been slid off to the sides to make room, hike my hat down real low over my eyes so the ladies don't think I'm there to mack on them, keep my head down and start boppin to the music in a pretty introspective way if that's even possible to do while dancing. Must have been quite a sight, but like a little kid in a kiddie pool swimming round and round the edge, the momentum builds, the water swirls, the right kind of song clears the floor and I'm riding a wave of rhythm with room to move. It didn't last long and I'm quickly swarmed by older women, not that there's anything wrong with that, and it's everything I can do to not make eye contact with any of them so as to not encourage anyone. I just want to dance and be left alone. I know. I'm a freak and guys don't talk like that, but how many dudes do you know that work construction or mechanics and have a website called Walk4Love? I don't mean to sound arrogant or rude regarding the ladies. I think it's great that they're out trying to have a good time, but I still only want the attention from one lady and I haven't seen her in a very long time. The only three young girls in the bar come onto the dance floor and the cute little brunette makes her way over to me and backs into me ever so subtly, not really, and I allow myself to dance with her a little. The song ends and the one that follows clears the floor, again, and we use all the space to have a little fun as I still avoid eye contact as best I can out of my own uneasiness more than anything else. Everyone watches. There's nothing distasteful or gratuitous about it though I feel if I made any kind of prolonged physical contact she would have let me which is reason for my uneasiness. The crowd seems to appreciate that were just a couple of young people having fun, though I'm definitely older, but I get mistaken for younger a lot. People came back on the floor as the next song begins and we gradually lose each other in the mix.

I end up talking with her and her friends when I go to the bar to grab a glass of ice water. They're up from NYC, too, for the weekend. Her friends, both blondes, have a slight "what have you done for me lately" kind of an attitude and I start to get the feeling from some of the things they say, and don't say, that their rich girls and my interest in trying to generate a conversation diminishes quickly. I talk with "Kylie" for a few minutes and she is nice. She shares that she recently had a relationship end and how she's grateful to her father and family for putting her through school. She goes outside to have a cigarette and I head down to the end of the bar to grab my coat and leave. The front door is a few steps away, but I decide to leave through the back door to say good-bye and thank her for dancing with me hoping she doesn't think I'm trying to do anything else. She's sitting on the bench outside the door, no cigarette. I sit down and we talk a little bit more. I offer her my coat, but she says she's good and we stand up to part ways. I look her in the eye and smile. She smiles back, but I don't do anything else and neither does she. We laugh a little, she turns her face to the side and offers me her cheek. I give her a peck and say good night. Turned out to be a decent night.
Thank you for reading.



February 25th, 2012
The truth is I need you and I need you to need me, but it's turned into such a silly game where everyone's afraid to need each other. Well, I shouldn't speak for everyone. I just don't know anyone who needs me, so I guess I'm reading too much into it. This is why I learned to not need anyone because it's what I was taught and I hate it. We all need to be needed and we can only do this if we have the courage to admit it to one another. I need to learn this doesn't make me a needy person. It just makes me human. I've proven I can do a lot of things by myself, but it hasn't made me happy in my life. I'm still a happy person. It's just in my nature, but I can't be alone so much anymore. I need to admit I need people and find the right ones who can trust me enough to need me, too. It's a beautiful thing, but it's a very painful thing when you don't have it.

There was a time when we had no choice, but to need one another. Now, with all the machines and technology of today, it is our choice and some of us have chosen to not need one another. I'm choosing to admit that I don't have a choice. I need people, not to survive, but to be happy and to be the best person I can be. My problem has always been I don't have anyone in my life who needs me so I went away with the pain it caused because I needed them and didn't even know it. Soooo here I am. Anybody want me? Wow, that didn't feel so bad. Anyone?.... Bueller? Oh well, guess I'm going to have to really put myself out there. I'll work on it.

I can't believe how easy that was and how much better I feel. Well, I guess I shouldn't say it was easy. It's been a long road getting here and I've been through some gnarly stuff that I still need to get rid of it, but I just might make it. I just realized that I actually haven't told anyone yet except writing it here, but that's what this has been for me. Writing here has been my solution to having no one to talk.
Thank you for reading. Love you.



February 24th, 2012
The truth is I'm scared and I don't know why. I could think of a million reasons and some of them might make sense, but they don't make it go away. Maybe it's because I'm only thinking of the them not talking about them to someone, but I don't trust anyone enough to keep trying. The times in my life when I have it never made things any better and sometimes it made them a lot worse. Trust to me is built on honesty. Honesty is like the price of admission into this room I'm sitting in and I can tell in two seconds if a person is being honest. Our hearts are the ultimate lie detectors. The more they feel the more acute they are. Being honest is not the same as not lying. You can tell someone you absolutely agree with everything they say and still never be honest with them. Honesty is about what is on your heart not anyone else's. When we're finally forced to talk about what's on our hearts is when we start allowing others to trust us. The problem is being honest has got nothing to do with succeeding in this world so most people are out of practice, don't even know it and are too afraid to try. They think they'd be betraying everything this world has given them that they are so dependent on. Writing here is the best that I can do. I don't want to sit in a room. I'd rather sit in the grass where there are no walls.

I've found work on farms locally and in Georgia, Colorado, Pennslyvania, Utah and California. I considered each one and the problem is I could probably get any one of them, not to sound conceded. I've done it countless times, but this is why it's gone on so long. Being able to do this just keeps me running. The ones that scare me the most are the ones around here...and the one in Pa. I don't know if I'm wild or just scared, but I keep coming down from the treeline and onto the edge of the property not to be captured, just to be seen. I don't want to run away and I don't want to be trapped. No one can say I'm not trying. That's all this is. I've been a lot more honest than anyone I know as embarrassing as it is. I've just wanted to find others who have the courage and wisdom to be honest to. It's the best that I can do with what I've got to work with. I've just been looking for others who are willing to try, as well, but I've only found a few and they're scattered far away. I know how much I've done alone. I can only imagine what we could do together.
Thank you for reading.



February 23rd, 2012
So why does a wild thing run? You can't ask it. It doesn't speak your language. You have to try to understand it. The easiest answer is: it runs because it's wild and needs to be free. It belongs to the earth. It can not survive if it's not free to roam, hunt and live with it's pack. I suppose you could say it is scared if it runs away from you when you try to approach it, but that's not entirely true. The truth is it doesn't need you. There is no reason for it to risk letting you get too close to it. You are strange and it doesn't know why you are trying to get close to it. Animals only do that for one reason because they want something. It has no way of knowing whether what you want is peaceful or dangerous so it doesn't trust you. If your heart was in it you could earn it's trust over time by proving that you are not a threat. If you were the same type of wild animal as it, you wouldn't have to convince it because it would just know.

I've been filling out job applications and working on the project for the last three days. I'd much rather be writing here. The vets think Job has cancer, so I have to go see about a job on a farm I just learned about to pay more bills.
Thank you for reading.



February 22nd, 2012
So what happens when a 6 year old boy is messed with and from that day on he decides he's got no one he can trust? He learns to trust his heart, and no one else, better than anyone can imagine. The problem is his young little mind won't know that it wasn't his fault and so a battle will begin between his heart and his mind. If he ever learns that he didn't do anything wrong, he will then begin to learn to trust others, again. Until he does, the only thing he will be able trust is animals, the natural world and his own instincts and by the time he reaches adulthood that bound will never be broken.

Maybe our hearts are like wild animals and our minds are like animal trainers. They try to keep our hearts in a cage only letting them out at the end of a rope to perform circus tricks and pointless tasks because they are petrified of our hearts' infinite and uncontrollable power. Maybe control is not the answer. Maybe understanding is because it will allow us to align us with it's power and ride it like a wave rather than only try to control the tiny bit we can fathom strangling the rest of it's beautiful nature.

I know I've talked about it before, but it's helpful to me. I don't want to sound like one of those people who takes their pets way too seriously and never stops talking about them, but when Job saved my life that night, he was only successful because I trusted him and listened to him. Because I knew and trusted that he was a good boy it was obvious that if he was acting up there had to be a reason. The only way I was able to recognize this is because I know him so well and this is because we've spent so much time together. He's not a person, I'm not a dog, but we both know exactly when something's wrong with the other. The same is true with our hearts. We can't talk to them with words, but if we understand their language we can start listening. We have to get to know them in order to understand them and then we will be able to hear when the are trying to tell us something. We can't learn to trust them until we set them free and give them the opportunity to earn our trust. We need to open the cage in a big beautiful field and let them run or fly as far as they want to go hoping, praying they will come back. When they do the connection will be made and everytime we do the connection gets stronger and stronger. Opening that cage is a scary thing for our mind because it knows it is nothing without our heart. If you never get to know yours neither will anyone else because you'll be afraid to show them. I'm not trying to preach to anyone. I'm just trying to let mine out and it really likes to run. It'll never go back in it's cage, but it still needs shelter once in a while. Crate training a dog has become popular in the last few years and I'm not a big fan. I'd never lock my dog in a box and I'll never trap my heart in a cage. I know some dogs who trust their owners actually like their crates because they are like a little den for the dog, but dens don't have doors so trust is built because these owners don't lock them in it all day long. The more wild or scared the animal the freer it has to be. If the animal runs every chance it gets and no one ever asks "Why?" trust will never be established and some might even say it's a bad dog. There's no such thing as bad dogs, only bad owners.
Thank you for reading.



February 21st, 2012
Sorry for the last entry. I know it was a truck load, but I can't be afraid to look stupid in my attempts to be honest. I honestly believe and always have that if a person is willing to be truly honest it will make him/her identifiable to all others who are willing to be honest, too. That's the amazing thing about the truth. It's universal. I always thought I've been real good at keeping my table clear, but what I uncovered at the doctor's office on Friday morning was there's plenty on it that I haven't dealt with. My saving grace is it was clear when I embarked on this journey which has allowed me to navigate through some pretty rough seas. I always used to think that the difference between me and the other guy sleeping under the bridge was he landed there, I chose to be there. I clear-headedly, whole-heartedly embarked on the road less-traveld and was willing to go where ever it led me compared to some poor bastard who had a sh*tty life and some tough breaks and found himself on desperation row. What I learnt the other day when Dr.Seus took me on a trip to the land of the Lorax was... ya know what, I shouldn't make light of his profession. He was a really nice guy and actually has a PhD, so technically he is a doctor. He's legal and licensed to be clinical therapist in hypnosis and all it really was was (two words in a row like that always looks weird to me) a guided meditation. You're not asleep or anything. He just helps you to relax and guides you through your own memories, but not with your mind. The feeling that acted as the compass was in my stomach. He helped me trace my way back to the origin of a feeling by bridging one feeling to another rather than one thought to another which makes it much more direct. I guess it confirms the notion that I've always believed which is your heart can't lie. Feelings are never wrong. They can't lie. They just are. They exist. Your mind can be wrong all the time in it's interpretation. Your mind does lie. Mine has.

When I think about how my body was shaking that day and how strange it must've looked, or melodramtic it must've seemed if people thought I was faking it, I imagine a garden hose with my thumb over it. If there's not a lot of water pressure, I can easily hold my thumb there and keep any water from leaking out, but if there is a lot of pressure I won't be able to. I may be able to hold my thumb there, but water will still spray out with a lot of force around the edges. What happened to me that day was a little trickle built up over a long period of time of many years on the road and became a lot of pressure and when I thought I was going to be able to unload it I lighten my grip on the hose a little and the pressure began to escape, but once I realized it was a trap I used all my strength to push my thumb back down, again, and stop the leak. I was just a young guy living in a cabin in the woods for over 2 years with no electricity, no running water, I was stranded there unable to leave whenever it rained, didn't know anyone in the area when I moved there, the job market stunk, the opportunity to buy the land turned out to be bogus, so I couldn't begin farming it, I'd lost the love of my life a few months prior and had no one to talk to about it, hadn't seen my family in many years, and I was almost broke. I was just a person who needed to sit down somewhere safe for a little while and regroup. My downfall is I'm stubborn and refuse to quit on things until it gets so bad that I don't have a choice, so I waited too long. Being stubborn can be a good thing when you're trying to accomplish things that no one else ever would and it has paid off many times in my life especially when I could put my whole heart behind it, but it can be pretty detrimental if there's no one around to say "Dude, you're killing yourself." The other mistake was I trusted the wrong people, again.

I did clear my table when I left years ago, but the patterns I learned as a kid that put stuff there hadn't changed and this allowed certain things to accumulate. The catch is they weren't issues between me and the outside world so I never saw them. This is where the table metaphor fails to be effective. The stuff I was avoiding wasn't blocking my vision of the world. It was blocking my vision of myself and they were too close for me to see. They'd been there so long that I'd forgotten they weren't a part of me. We see ourselves best through the eyes of those who love us and if we run away from them or force them away we will never see what we need to.

Went for a short little hike in the woods today with Job. He's not in the clear, yet, but he's doing great. I missed a couple entries this weekend and I'll fill them in soon.
Thank you for reading.



February 18th, 2012
I left the animal hospital parking lot early the next morning, dropped off my cousin at his place in Southie and headed to Newton to keep my appointment with the hypnotherapist. I didn't tell my cousin, or anyone else, who I was going to see. Though it seemed odd, there was a reason why I was willing to try something so unusual, but I didn't expect anyone else to understand. I wasn't even sure I did. I made a promise to myself, and to someone else, that I was going to find the source of my pain because I knew this was the only way to take away it's power. I believe that if I can do this it will allow me to channel all the energy that runs through me like a river into something good that's a lot more important than my little life. I didn't care what I had to do to find it. As hard as I've tried to live according to my heart and my beliefs I've never been able to find it's specific source in me. When Job and I returned the other day from hiking on the section of the Appalachian Trail that runs from Connecticut to Pennsylvania I had to accept that it was my pain not my beliefs that have forced me to live the way I have. Refusing to go along with what I don't agree with and spending so much time surrounded by nature was my self-medication and it appeased my anxieties, but it never uncovered where they were coming from. I still believe in all the things I've tried to live according to, but I can't use them to avoid what has been making me live this way so uncompromisingly. My belief in them should allow me to choose to live this way freely. No matter how hard I've tried, no matter how true I've remained it hasn't made me happy a lot of the times and it's not because it can't. It's because somewhere along the way I began doing it for the wrong reasons. The fact that finding better ways for a person to live was so worthwhile to me was the only reason I was willing to sacrifice so much to remain loyal to them. My pain has been like a filter that would never let me do anything I didn't wholeheartedly believe in because if I didn't believe in it I couldn't muster all my strength to fight it off. It had culminated to the point that all I could do is write and surround myself in nature, and I never even liked writing. The virtue I saw in this path was the only reason I've been willing to allow myself to live like this until the day finally came when I sacrificed something more beautiful than all these beliefs.

My body vibrated like I was holding onto an invisible jack hammer and tears streamed down my face. As I tried to speak to the admitting doctor and the orderlies, I developed a stutter that I'd never had before which made it hard for me to complete a sentence. They tried to assure me that everything was going to be alright, but kept their distance as if I was a ticking bomb that could explode at any moment. I'd just spent 15 minutes on the phone with the doctor who didn't know I was parked in my jeep right outside the hospital. I reiterated over and over that my biggest concern was whether or not I could come in voluntarily. He had seen me a week prior and knew a little bit about my situation and assured me that I could. He lied. I later learned that it is a substantial amount more paper work to admit someone voluntarily than it is to admit someone involuntarily. We sat in his office for what seemed like forever talking about the exact same things we'd spoken about a week prior when I had come to the health center after accepting the fact that I had to something, but just wasn't sure what, and then, again, a few minutes ago on the phone before I came in. In the back of my mind, I couldn't figure out why he was stalling, but it had gotten to the point that I couldn't wait anymore. Little did I know he was deliberately putting me on ice until I said something that gave him cause to lock me up without me having the option to leave. Now, as he walked a few yards in front of me and a male orderly walked a few yards behind me, he led me down a hallway past a row of offices and into a different part of the building. The carpet ended at a large steel door and a faded enamel floor began. As we continued I found myself in the psychiatric ward of a hospital and like a feather tied to a tree during a hurricane my voice fluttered as I asked barely above a whisper, "Am I hear voluntarily?" The answer was "No."

I remember when I was halfway through college and began making bold changes in my life how my parents frequently warned me that I was too trusting. I know why people who live in fear try to control things they don't understand. The word "trust" which is the basis of so much in my world has no place in theirs. Everything needs to be on their terms because anything they don't agree with or can't control scares them. The fear that fuels their refusal to deal with the parts of themselves is what justfies they're actions. Their only saving grace is that they know not what they do. This is what I wrote on my discharge papers when I was finally released from the hospital. I'm sure they had no idea what I was talking about. There wasn't even a space provided to write it. I just wrote it across all the legal nonsense that covered the page.

When they did a blood and urine test, it boggled their minds that there was no trace of drugs or alcohol in my system. It was obvious that they didn't believe me when I told them that I've never done drugs and rarely drink and I could feel them all staring at me as I stood across the room from the large front counter where they distributed medication wondering what in the world this guy was on that was making him shake like that. As I accepted that I was trapped, I transitioned into survival mode. I stopped shaking and my energy tappered away into a calm numb feeling. The male orderly stood near me and began asking me questions. On the other side of me was a set of large double doors that led to another identical set before leading outside. In front of me was a waist high partition that divide the entrance where I stood with a lounge area that had chairs and a tv bolted high up on the wall. I answered his questions quietly. My stutter was gone and I wiped the trail of tears from my face. It hadn't felt like I was crying when they started. The water just seemed to run out of my eyes like it was overflowing. To my fortune, he was a sincere guy. I could tell by his clothes he didn't make a lot of money and I'd even be willing to go so far as to say he might've worked there because he actually cared about people. This made him stand out from all the others. I later found out this was true and he actually risked his job to help me. The doctor was long gone by now and I never saw him, again. The orderly introduced himself to me. We'll call him "James". Our slow patient conversation continued and as every one of my answers was normal and made sense, James began to realize that I wasn't on drugs, I wasn't crazy, and I wasn't a danger to anyone, but that I was just a person who'd found himself in a tough situation and had no place else to go. It was a reality that he was probably very familiar with in his job.

After a woman came over and gave me some medication that I pretended to take, James and I continued to talk. When I confessed to him that my biggest concern was that my dog was out in my jeep which was parked across the street and they weren't going to release me for four days, it really seemed to bother him. He asked me if there was someone I could call who could come get him, but I didn't know anyone in the small city where the hospital was located and only a few in the small town several miles away on the coast where I'd be living for the last year. My older brother who I wasn't very close with lived an hour and half away in Santa Barbara, Ca and I was forced to call him and ask if he'd be willing to come get Job out of the jeep and bring him to the farm I sometimes worked at which wasn't too far away. I called them and asked if Job could stay there with their dog for a couple of days and they said it would be fine. I'd watched their dog for them a number of times. I told them I was sick and when I went to the doctor's to get checked out they decided to keep me overnight. This made perfect sense to the folks at the farm because they knew I'd been working on a fishing boat that winter and had become run down because we hadn't caught anything for months and I was losing weight.

The woman who'd given me my medication asked me if I was feeling any better noticing how much calmer I seemed compared to when I'd arrived and I told her that I was. She said she was glad the medication had helped. An hour or so later my brother called the hospital to tell me he couldn't get Job out of my jeep. Job never leaves where I left him unless I say it's ok. After some heavy deliberation, James agreed to sneak me out of the hospital when no one else was looking so I could go get Job myself and put him in my brother's car. James made me promise that I wouldn't take off once he let me out explaining that he would lose his job if I did. I promised. As much as I wanted to get the hell out of their I didn't want to do it by getting the only nice person I'd met in trouble. It only took a few minutes and I was back before anyone noticed. It felt surreal to be outside under the circumstances.

Lying in the dark trying to block out the blood curdling screams of a young woman coming from just down the hall, it was impossible to sleep. The lights in my room would pop on for a second every hour when one of the hospital employees would check to make sure I wasn't doing anything dangerous. It literally sounded like someone was trying to kill her and screaming in horror was the only thing she could do to save herself. I don't know how she kept it up all night without losing her voice. Sitting in the small dining area having breakfast the next morning, the smell of urine filled the room as a man entered with a yellow stain on his gown that covered it from his chest to his knees. "What in God's name am I doing here?" was all I could think to myself. Every one in the room tried to ignore the smell and finish eating and get out of there. I lost my appetite and got up to leave, but casually. No one wanted to make the man feel any worse than he already felt. You could see how noticably ashamed he was. As he dragged his feet to walk the sound of his hospital slippers scratching across the floor was the only sound in the room until a male orderly barged in and exclaimed "What the hell? It smells like barn animals in here! Jesus, clean yourself up," and exited. I stood up, bussed my tray and exited the room after him. I caught up to him at the front counter where all the employees liked to congregate and talk amongst themselves. He was joking about what he had just done. I looked him in the eyes until he stopped talking. Calmly, but sternly I said, "These people are here for help. They do not need to be spoken to like that. What you just did was completely unprofessional. You should be trying to help him not make fun of him." The ladies on the other side of the counter that he was leaning on didn't say a word as I glanced at them with a peaceful expression on my face that said, "I'm not looking for any trouble, but you all know better." I walked to my room and tried to use up some time reading the handouts I'd asked for about the medication I was allowing them to believe I was taking. Then on the blank side of the sheets of paper I decided to document my stay in writing. When I finally met with the resident psychiatrist that afternoon I quickly recognized that if I revealed how intelligent I was she became defensive and uneasy so I dumbed myself down and told her exactly what she wanted to hear and agreed to take whatever medication she wanted me to take while giving her the apropriate feedback from reading the literature I'd requested. This tactic worked and I was released on my third day. My brother agreed to come back so they felt like they were releasing me in to someone else's "care" and I had to convince them I was going to continue with my "therapy" by making appointments with one of their social workers and psychologists.

I've never had much interest in talking to a doctor or therapist about my problems. I never knew anyone in my family who had and the judgemental view a lot of people have of it has never made it very attractive to me. I'm more of a do-it-yourselfer when it comes to cars, construction, yard care, snow removal, training my dog, or even webdesign (though I'm probably going to need to find a professional for this) so I've taken the same approach to taking care of my emotional needs as ridiculous as that sounds to me, now. Being sort of a naturalist, I believed close friends and family should be our natural form of support in our lives not some stranger we pay to be our friend. The problem is I never realized I didn't have either once I'd taken off on the road less traveled. "Normal" is what you know so if you never knew anything except work hard, keep your feelings to yourself, and never ask anyone for anything, you'd never know that life didn't have to be that hard, but if everyone else in your life was fine with this then you'd never think to question it until, that is, you realized that what the people in your life represent is not the same as actually having them in your life. The idea of them was an all powerful and unsatisfiable entity because it only existed in my mind not in my life. Until right now, no one except my brother and father neither of whom I saw or talked to more than a couple times a year even knew any of this happened to me.

It's been useful for me to imagine that we are all born with an empty table in front of us and as we grow up experiences, issues, fears, responsibilities, etc. are placed on this table by life. When we become adults it is our job to clear this table of everything that has accumulated on it as best we can and keep it clear everyday so that nothing piles up on it blocking our view of the world. If we keep it clear, as soon as something is placed on it, it will be obvious and we'll be able to focus all our attention on addressing it. If we neglect to do this and a pile does form and we allow it to become so big that we can only see what is directly infront of us through a small hole we've managed to keep clear in the middle of the heap we will never really be able to see people, experiences and the world for what they really are and we will easily become defensive because we are so unclear of the things in front of us. If this happens, there is one way to regain true prespective again, but it is very dangerous. You can allow the pile to become so big that the weight of it collapse the table and everything you've refused to deal with comes crashing down ontop of you. If you survive the collapse, you see the world, again, with an unobstructed view. The problem with this is you will still have an utter mess in front of you to clean up which could have easily hurt anyone close to you when it all came down.

Another possibility, for gaining perspective on the mountain of things a person may have allowed to form in front of them is to rise above it momentarily. This can be done through the use of substances that make us "high" allowing us to see what's on the other side of the pile temporarily or by a euphoric feeling that lifts us up caused by a near death experience or an inspiring event in our lives. Neither of these examples teach us how to deal with things on a day to day basis in order to maintain clarity in our lives, but they can give us a glimpse of what it might look like if we're willing to stay grounded and work for it.

The day I graduated college I left campus completely free. I didn't even wait for the graduation ceremony to begin. I dropped off two of my close friends who were going to participate in the procession and I hit the road. My life was finally mine. My little roadster was the only car leaving campus as a line of hundreds a couple miles long filed in bumper to bumper. I had the top down, the sun was shining and I had no real destination other than to find the road I was suppose to be on. I'd quit playing hockey two years prior and started acting when one of my close friends that I'd just dropped off, a football player, asked me to star in a play with him. Being on stage was a natural catalyst that forced me to deal with all my insecurities and secrets. I think everyone should try it and I systematicly removed each and every one I could find from my table even if it meant contacting people I had wronged years ago. Before I left, one night I drove to the church in the town I grew up in. I had rarely gone their since I was a kid when playing sports had taken precidence over religion which wasn't fairing too well in the news or public eye at that time in the Boston area. I knelt down on the steps in the dark and made my peace with my life and my god and said good-bye. This is the story I told myself:

Long ago, we left on a journey together as a group. One day while we were making our way through the forest we got off course. None of the leaders wanted to tell the group. They feared it would jeopardize its safety and morale by causing a widespread panic. The group trusted our leaders so we kept going even though we'd unknowingly lost our direction. Members of group that enjoyed a high level of status and privilege who, also, knew we were off course didn't say anything because they didn't want their position to change. A few members who were intelligent enough to realize we’d lost our way believed nothing could be done and just went along secretly losing hope in our journey. Other members were so distracted by their own lives and the inner drama of the group that they never realized we were off course and many were just too busy keeping up to notice.

I, like you, was born and grew up in the group long after we'd strayed, but the forest was still all around us and as a boy I’d disappear into it whenever I had the chance and return later refreshed and revitalize from the stagnant energy that seemed to predominate the smaller world that had formed within the group. As I became a young man I knew something wasn't right. I tried to talk to my elders about it, but no one wanted to listen. They raised me to be honest, hard-working and to always do what's right which made it impossible for me to follow in the direction we were headed. I thought if I could find the place that we were trying to reach and bring proof of it back then maybe people would listen, so I left. If I make it back, I will be smiling with what I have in my heart to show you.

I began this journey freely with a clean slate, so everything that has happened to me I've never taken personally. I knew there wasn't anything wrong with me because I was happy healthy and full of hope and confidence when I left. It's been a lonely hell at times, but I've processed even these experiences with the intensity of the fires that tried to burn me and let them keep me clean and my intentions pure. What I had to realize is that I can not get there alone and it's taken me a lot of pain and a great loss to accept this. No matter how brutally honest and analytical I can try to be it could never help me understand something I can not see, but I've always known it was there because I could feel it. When Job saved my life the night carbon monoxide was filling the van, it was because his instincts were telling him it wasn't safe and he wasn't going to leave me alone until I listened to him even if it meant I might get angry. This is what my pain is finally forcing me to do. When he and I got back last week, in addition to starting the new project I began doing research and making calls to find someone in the mental health profession that might be helpful to talk to as much as I hated to do it. The smartest person I spoke with who seemed to grasp a lot of the ideas I was describing wanted $2,200 a session. That's a lot of hay. I'm certainly not interested in a business which gives out diagnoses like gold stars making people think they're special accompanied by medication that prevents them from feeling special. I'm sorry, but most of those I spoke with weren't as smart as I am no matter how many books they've read or diplomas they have and no offense to the ones who are, but life is still not a business. It's a journey that we are all on together connected by this one belief. He tried to compare his dollar amount with the value of my willingness to want to help myself, which is kind of a dirty trick if you ask me, but I didn't buy it. I wasn't looking to find someone who was willing to take another crack at the same thing I've been trying to do for years. They wouldn't stand a chance against the mind that had given me an endless list of beliefs and a mountain of problems on the world's table to try and fix. I got the feeling even though it seemed a little farfetched that I needed to find someone to help me see part of my map of this jounrey that my mind wasn't allowing me to see. If I could find someone who was trained to bypass all my thoughts to access information that I couldn't think of because I either didn't know it existed or had forgotten about it, then I could take it from there.

On the second floor of an old house that had been turned into a group of offices on an average city street, I walked into a blandly decorated room and met a quirky little man who seemed reasonably nice. Though I was friendly with him, I was, also, candid about the fact that I was just about to leave as he showed up 9:59 for an appointment at 10 after I'd gotten there fifteen minutes early. It startled him a little, but he could tell I wasn't being judgemental, just honest about the fact that it was something I didn't identify with. As we talked, I realized the whole reason I was there was because I had the habit of walking away from things I didn't identify with, literally. We laughed about this. We talked for about twenty minutes, he did his thing, hocus pocus, I got exactly what I was looking for and we shook hands as he wished me luck with genuine excitement about my future. Not bad for the bargain price of $130. I won't bore you with the details of what I found. I've rambled on enough about my life.

I drove back to the animal hospital and saw Job. He looked a lot better. I hung out with him until he had to go for an ultra sound, took a nap in the truck and they discharged him at 7 o'clock. In total, my father, my cousin and myself, spent $2,200 bucks on him. At least one of us was worth it. Sorry this was so long and self-absorbed, but I had some cleaning up to do. We are not our pasts. We are our present will to want to make a better future.
Thank you for reading.

*Michael J O'Connell, for saving Job.



February 17th, 2012
I'm sitting in my truck outside the office of a hypnotist that I have an appointment with. Yes, you heard me right. I'm just as skeptical as you are. It's 6 am and I haven't slept, so technically this is yesterday's entry. I spent the night sitting in my truck parked outside the South Shore Animal Hospital. Job was admitted there at midnight. They're calling it an acute infection. When we got back from our two week hike he was the picture of health. Yesterday morning, he could barely muster the energy to stand. I got on the phone and was lucky enough to find a vet that would see him that day, they put him on an I.V. of antibiotics and 540 bucks later he was home with me at my father's house with two prescriptions of more antibiotics. The vet who treated him called me that evening which was nice, but a little concerning. She wanted to know if he was responding well to the medication and, also, to tell me that if he wasn't showing improvement that there was a 24hr animal hospital in Weymouth, a few towns away. I have a lot of confidence in Job's ability to snap out of any sickness because he's always been such a healthy dog especially since this seemed to be such a fluke, but I was, now, reconsidering that this may be more serious. The vet wouldn't have told me about the hospital if she had any doubt that he was going to get better. I asked her if it was possible that he wouldn't make it through the night and she said, "Yes."

When you're forced to decide between money and doing everything you can to take care of something or someone, the question isn't "Can you afford it?" The question is, "Are you willing to do everything in your power to try to even if you know you can't?" This can be a matter of your own willingness to be vulnerable. I could only imagine what an emergency visit to the animal hospital was going to cost me. Obviously, it was a matter of taking care of my dog, my loyal companion for the last nine years with whom I'd literally walked thousands of miles, but what it really represented was whether or not I was going to let my worries prevent me from doing what I normally would even if I didn't know how I was going to pay for it. It's not a question of how. It's a matter of saying that not knowing how isn't going to stop you.

When I called the hospital and told them how Job had seen a vet that afternoon and received treatment, but was not showing any signs of improvement, the veterinary technician I spoke to definitely thought I should bring him in. Though I knew she couldn't tell me exactly without seeing him, I asked if she could give me an idea of how much it might cost. She told me not to worry and that they would take a look at him and give me an estimate before doing anything. It was for $2,400 dollars, 350 of which was for walking through the door. They wanted to keep him overnight. I told the doctor that I didn't like being separated from Job and to please bring him out to me before I decided anything. When I got there a vet tech had promptly taken him into the back of the hospital and though I was glad he was being seen so quickly I didn't like the way she just took my dog without telling me anything other than to wait there. They brought Job back out as I waited in the examining room with my cousin who had taken a cab from Boston when he found out Job was sick. As I looked at the itemized estimate, my cousin without hesitation said "Fine, let's do it." His conviction was based on how much he knew Job meant to me, as well as to him. Good dogs have a way of growing on everyone their lives come in contact with. His attitude was so profound that it allowed me to play the devil's advocate and make the doctor go down each thing on the list and explain what it was for. I was able to knock off $1,000 of additional testing and focus his treatment on what both doctor's, her and the one we'd seen that afternoon, believed was the problem. I didn't like being so frugal, but Job and I had just gotten back from our trip and I couldn't afford to just say "Yes" to anything without making sure it was necessary. My cousin, a leading project manager for one of the biggest construction companies in Boston, could. I didn't ask him to come to the hospital and I would never in a million years have asked him to help me with the bill, but he would never in a million years let me not do whatever needed to be done to get Job the care he needed. Family's pretty amazing like that. I've never told him this, but it hasn't been easy watching my younger cousin get out of school and start making three times what I do working on farms. Funny thing is he'd never told me how much he's looked up to me for putting my heart into everything I do. I hope he doesn't mind me sharing that.

I had to say good-bye to Job, again, and the doctor who turned out to be very nice took him back to the ICU. I told my cousin that I was probably just going to wait outside in my truck and he said he'd join me.
Thank you for reading.



February 15th, 2012
Biologist define an indicator species as an especially sensitive organism that acts as an early warning sign for the ecosystem to which it belongs. When members of an indicator species start dying off, biologists know that there is something wrong.

I have no interest in video games. Ever been at a party and it gets late? You, finally, look around and ask yourself, "What am I still doing here?" You manage to salvage what's left of your better judgement and the remaining hours of the night and leave. As you were reaching this decision, you observe the other people still engrossed in the goings on of the scraggling event and the difference between you and them is undeniable. I was pretty bored and restless in school like a lot of other intelligent kids. More than anything I was unispired. The minimally challenging goals layed out before me did nothing in the way of stirring anything in me other than hollow desire. Maybe some members of a species can not be domesticated. If you leave the gate open, they just might make a run for it because the natural programming in them is stronger than the man-made one being attempted to replace it with. The risk of running ahead is even if you're going in the right direction if you get too far ahead you will find yourself alone. So, do you stay at the pointless party, do you learn what the uninspired are trying to teach you, or do you run for the hills with the faith that there is still a mumor of natural direction in your heart?

If you manage to pull yourself away from the life-like graphics and cerebral mind candy and walk outside for some fresh air you will always be glad you did. It's your life. Your heart knows the way. Turn off the t.v. and follow it. I know it's hard when you think you might make the high score. The object of that game is to make it as far as you can with the life you are given. The object of this one is the same, but you didn't have to buy anything to play it. All you have to be is willing to work for it, that is, until you finally realize you don't really have a choice if it's your heart you want to follow. Mine told me what to do. I left the party and I'm sitting alone on the top of a hill waiting for my instructions.
Thank you for reading.



February 14th, 2012
Why does love have to be ours to enjoy it? Real love isn't exclusionary. It's not something we hoard and only give to one person who has passed some kind of petty test. Real love is what keeps us all connected even if we don't believe we are. It's easy to focus more on romantic love when we have someone in our lives, but if we don't we shouldn't feel alone. Most of us have had some form of love or romance in our lives at some point even if we may not today. It feels good to remember it if we don't focus on why it didn't work out and appreciate how it made us feel when we experienced it because that feeling came from inside us and still is in us even if our minds try to convince us it's gone. It's the judgment we have of ourselves, and of others, that keep us from appreciating things that we can not understand or control. Guess what, we can not understand or control life, or love, and all our attempts to just make one big mess. Admitting that we may never be able to while still keeping our heart open allows it to lead us to where our mind can not. This is where I'm trying to go. It's where I need to go.
Thank you for reading.



February 13th, 2012
I hit a wall the other day and I've been afraid to write about it, but tomorrow is Valentine's Day and this website is called Walk4Love for a reason. For the record, I think this holiday does more harm than good for anyone who doesn't have someone special in their life and I'm not going to let anyone who reads this feel alone. There's plenty of people who are in relationships, right now, for the wrong reasons and there are plenty who are not in one for the right reasons. The latter are my heroes. I was told by someone recently in an effort to encourage me to find love that no one deserves to be alone. What this person doesn't understand is that finding someone just so we're not alone only avoids the problem. It would be like taking medication that masks the symptoms of a bigger problem. That bigger problem is "Us". When a person feels heartache what they are feeling is the pain of losing someone who touched their heart in the unique way that only that person could coupled with the pain that we are all living with everyday. This pain is the pain of being torn apart ever so subtly by the system that as it has grown has pulled us away from one another. At some point, it became acceptable for us to all live separate lives. Family and friends move away. We get too busy to make time to see each other even though we want to. We lose the ability to resolve differences because it's easier to avoid them. We spend 5 out of 7 days of our lives with strangers who we see more than our own loved ones, and they spend their time with us rather than with theirs. It's great when we develop friendships with our coworkers, but it is always a cold reminder when business reminds us that it is the backdrop to these friendships and it is more important. Yes, some of us, the lucky ones, stay in close touch despite this environment and call each other one the phone all the time, or use email and texting, This helps, but it can't replace the fact that are hearts never agreed to any of this and when we are laying down at night far from one another we feel it. When we lose a significant other we lose our first defense against the absence of everyone else. They are our whole world because we have already lost our real one so when we lose them we lose everything. I do not like being alone anymore than the next person, but that loneliness is trying to teach me something and I am trying to learn from it. Building a relationship on the fear of being alone only keeps that fear alive. Finding someone someday who is willing to face it, also, will do more than cover up this pain it will help us all eliminate it.

The projects is going great and it is going to help accomplish this. I will be creating a page that outlines specifically what it will entail.

What I've been afraid to write about is something I still don't completely understand. Starting this new project allowed me to see that I've tried to address problems on the outside as an attempt to fix problems on the inside. The tactics I've used to cope with the loneliness caused by refusing to be in a relationship just for the sake of being in one have been built around a fear that I wasn't even aware I had until recently. When I reached the small park that was my destination the other day I had to let go of something, not someone. We don't have to let go of the people we once loved if we're strong enough to look at that love honestly. If we're not suppose to be together then the love we share with that person will help us both move on by doing what loves does best, supporting its recipients. There are many forms of love and each one helps us in our education in learning how to be honest. Love is not like shopping when you try something on and it doesn't fit so you put it back on the rack and forget about it. People are not disposable. If you really loved someone then your heart was attracted to them for a reason. Your heart needed to learn what their heart had to teach you and theirs needed to learn what yours had to teach them, that is, if you're both willing to try and be honest with one another. Being completely honest in love is not always easy, but when we find the person we want to be and the person we want to be with we have no choice, but to muster the courage to keep trying if we want to love them with all of our hearts.

What I had to let go of was what meeting Joshua the other day taught me. If I hadn't gone on this last walk, he and I wouldn't have met. What happened to him in the hospital would have haunted him for the rest of his life because he would have associated breaking up with someone with the horrible experience that followed. He's called me a couple times since last week and by talking about it he's been able to separate himself from the experience. He knows he made a mistake, but he, also, knows that what happened to him as a result was not part of it. What happened to him was someone else's mistake, not his. It was the mistake of the people he turned to for help. I know this because I made the same mistake once. I have never been able to ask people for help because of a mistake I thought I made a long time ago. The problem is I still don't know what it is. I just, now, it must exist. I know I'm pretty sensitive for a guy and I know I'm pretty driven as a person, but these can't be the only reasons why I've lived the way I have. A person as smart as I am, not to sound conceited, doesn't walk 20 to 30 miles a day for months at a time sleeping in the woods when he's in the country or under bridges when he's in the city because it's the only place he feels safe. It doesn't make sense. He doesn't choose to only take jobs whose requirements never exceed that of a grunt laborer. He doesn't refuse to work for the "system" when he could be making a decent living working in unless the system has done something to him. I have wrestled with and written about many reasons why I've chosen to live the way I have for the last 15 years, but there's something missing. You can't fix a problem you can't see. I finally realized this because you don't push away someone you love and who loves you unless you're afraid of something. Whatever it is I need to let go of it. I don't know how I'm going to find it, but when I do I'm going to take away all it's power so it can never hurt me or cause me to hurt anyone else, again. Sorry this entry was so self-absorbed.
Thank you for reading.



February 9th, 2012
If I'm going to bring others on board, I have to know that this boat can float. It's not enough to believe that it's the right thing to do because our system does not operate on the basis that things are the right thing to do. It has to work in order to fit into the machine. I need to draw a clear connection between listening to our hearts in order to find sound solutions and have these solutions executed efficiently by our minds.

In order for people to see that it works, I need to take the daily work allowance required to sustain one human life and find the monetary dollar amount that it equates to. This correlation is the building block of any efficient and sustainable system. If you are not getting out what you are putting in it can not work and equally true if some are getting out a lot more than they are putting in it can not work. One way to do this would be to find out how much money it costs to feed, clothe and house one person for a day and compare it to the amount of work a person needs to do on a farm where they are growing their own food. Obviously there are many variables to factor in, but when I was looking at some property yesterday that has been offered to me to start a farm (it's funny how things just seem to present themselves to you once you make a decision to do something) I noticed it was a few miles down the road from a prison which was a little unnerving if the end result of this project is to bring awareness to the problem previous generations are leaving future generations to deal with and then obtain land to start a farm school where young people, and old, can learn the value of real work and, also, learn what is required to keep their hearts and minds open to maintaining healthy connections with the people in their lives. When I was investigating what kind of prison it was to see if I was going to be comfortable with having a group young people living a few miles down the road from it, which I'm not, I learned that it costs the state $45.72 to take care of one inmate for a day. I thought about how easily I could live on 45 bucks a day while walking. I've worked on plenty of farms to know how much physical work I do in a day which gives me the ability to compare it to how hard it is to physically walk all day and camp every night. Life on the road would be pretty sweet if I had that much to spend each day. Even though that's only about $5.63/hr if I walk 8 hours a day or $2.25/mile if I walk 20 miles each day. I know I'm just brainstorming and using approximations, but it begins to shed some light on the correlation between real physical work and how much money it's worth under our current system. How can we blame people who try to earn as much money as they can regardless of how much real work they are doing? This is what happens to a system that is not built on earthly value. Blah, blah, blah, I know this all sounds crazy, but what I feel is important to bring to light and what I hope to show the world with this project is where some of our challenges lie in the system we are living under and the lengths a small group of hard working people are willing to go by putting their hearts behind finding practical tangible solutions to some of them.
Thank you for reading.



February 8th, 2012
The project is in the works. I'm wrestling with the fact that I need to come off the road to work on it. It's the most practical way to get it underway. I just feel trapped when I'm not surrounded by things I can trust and unfortunately the only things I trust, right now, are in the natural world, but I've got to keep writing especially about all my beliefs not just the ones I think people will accept. I started this website back up as an opportunity for me to learn how to be completely honest so if I stop, now, there's no point to any of this. If I need to start a separate website for the project that is more digestible for people then I will, but getting it all out is what I need to keep doing until I have something tangible and positive to channel it into. There was a time when I thought that something was a someone, but she's gone and I can't get her back.

Love is not a game of musical chairs where everyone scrambles to grab a chair when the music stops hoping they're not the last one left standing alone. That is bullsh*t. The real music doesn't stop until we die and it probably doesn't even then. It just changes into a different song. You've got to keep dancing to the music of your life. It's the only way someone who knows the same song will recognize you. Ya, I know it sounds corny and that's why I have to keep writing. I've got to stop keeping score with the world. If you're afraid to say or admit too much you're already trapped and don't realize it. It's hardest when you're the only one saying these things and you're the only one dancing. That's when you have to close your eyes and listen harder to your song blocking out the noise of all the doubters and the cynics. They gave up on their hearts a long time ago, or never even found them, and that's why the can't hear the real music of life. We all have a song and it may not sound good to everyone, but it will to the right ones, or one. You don't even have to believe it yourself. You just have to obey it and let it make a believer out of you, first.

Love is energy and it needs a destination and a source. If you've lost your destination then you have to remain true to the source until it finds its way home. If you try to hide or stifle it's energy, you only hurt yourself and those who need it. Your mind and it's judgment of things it doesn't understand is what causes you pain and convinces you to suppress it. Fire your mind and hire your heart.
Thank you for reading.



February 7th, 2012, Gollub Park, Easton, Pa
I was sitting in the sun this morning by a river near a small boat ramp when an older man in a new car pulled up. Eventually, he go out and walked over to us. Job was laying by my side. The man had a bag of dog biscuits and held one up gesturing to me if he could give it to Job. I shook my head. The man looked a little surprised and disappointed. I guess I've come a long way because this bothered me. In years before that chip on my shoulder would have felt completely justified in telling the man "No" because my dog was well behaved because I don't spoil him with treats or let anyone else, but as the man was turning to walk away I tried to explain. "It just teaches him to run up to people", I tried to say in a friendly manner. I've actually had people throw treats out of a car window as they slowly rolled by yelling "Here doggy!" not realizing that teaches a dog to run up to a moving vehicle. My explanation didn't seem to make any difference and the man walked away without a reply, stood by the river and lit a cigar. I finished looking at my map, picked up Job's water and food bowls and put them away. Before leaving I walked over to the water's edge further up river and silently gestured to Job to run over to the man and say "Hi" who couldn't see us because his back was turned. Job ran over to the man and I stayed at a distance to let the two of them visit. The man who had already put his bag of cookies back in his car was delighted by Job's friendliness. I asked him if he lived in the area and we had a short friendly conversation.

We crossed the river, made our way through the small city, up the steep neighborhood streets to a ridge that ran perpendicular to the river along the north side of town and found the small hidden park that we visited two years ago when we were at the beginning of a very different journey. I climbed the tallest tree I could find among the rocks that formed a small ledge overlooking the valley and river below and tied a note for the person I had taken that journey with to one of it's branches high and far enough out that no one would dare try to reach. No one, but me. I thought about how lucky I was then and how I was too preoccupied with everything I thought I needed to be doing to realize it. I prayed for the chance to make it right someday and headed out of town.

There's a lot of beauty in the world that our fears won't let us see. Some fears are natural like being afraid of getting too close to the edge of a cliff. Some are man-made like being afraid of getting to close to the fear of looking at ourselves. I've learned that you can't force anyone, but yourself, to face the fears that prevent us from seeing the beauty all around us. If there's one thing I do with my life it's to show those I care about that doing so is the greatest thing an individual can accomplish because of all it allows us to give and receive and that starts with continuing to face mine.

Joshua got out today. He called me as he was driving back to school. Before he left, he went by his ex-girlfriend's work and brought her some flowers. He told her that he was sorry for his behavior and they talked for a few minutes. He said they were both smiling when he said good-bye. He didn't tell her about what had happened to him, but he admitted to me that seeing her was his reward for getting out of that place. He thanked me for talking with him the other day. He said I was the only one who had the whole time he was there. All they tried to do was give him drugs to not feel anything. I told him I about my new project and he asked if he could come. I told him we'll talk about in the summer when he gets out of school. I told him to study what interests him not just what he thinks will get him a good job.

I've got a lot of work to do. I've got 10 other walkers to find and interview who will be representative of our country's population which is: 63% White, 16% Hispanic, 12% African American, 4% Asian, 2% Mixed, .7% Native, and .2% Other. And, enlist all the farms and communities I've visited over the years to have them put us to work. I'll map out a route to walk showing every person we pass along the way what a group of hard working young people who are willing to do whatever they have to help their country and themselves looks like. We'll be inviting people from all walks of life to join us for a day or two. One of the charities I've been walking for is the Pediatrics Cancer Foundation. We're making arrangements to bring children with terminal illnesses when the weather warms up. I can push a wheel chair a long way and I know you would, too. They are our angels who teach us without words how foolish we've become. Maybe you'd like to join us. I look forward to learning what wisdom each one of you has to bestow on us. 12 people...and one dog.
Thank you for reading.



February 6th, 2012
A man, to me, fixes problems. That's his job. He doesn't need to be told. He sees the problem and he does whatever that needs to be done to fix it. If a loved one pulls into my driveway and goes into the house and I smell antifreeze while I'm outside, I walk over to their car, pop the hood and look for the leak. I crouch down underneath if I have to until I find the faulty hose. I don't ask for permission. I know it needs to be done. I go to the autoparts store, get a new one and replace the bad one. I do this because I know it has to be done and I can do it. My loved ones would do the same for me if they could, and they do in other ways.

If on another day, I'm standing in my driveway and there's a big puddle of brake fluid at my feet. I get on the phone and call everyone who was at my house that day until I reach the person who parked there because they're about to loose their brakes. I discovered this and I feel responsible to do something about it because if don't and anything bad happens I would be partly my fault. Well, the brakes don't work and we can't stop.

I'm going to keep walking and writing, but to do more I have to decide which negative issues are the most important to address positively. Anyone can talk about themselves or the world, but it's hard to address problems without sounding negative. The way you do this is by being willing to do something about it not just think or talk about it. I have lived the way I have because it was the only way I could address these issues by myself. I have learned a lot, but I have, also, learned that I am not the only one. By finding others who are willing to actually do something about it other than just talk we can collectively do more than anyone of us could do alone.

I spoke with a young farmer friend of mine, today, who has been contemplating leaving her job in the spring. Not only does she run the organic program consisting of 2 cultivated acres at two different farms for a prestigious college in the northeast, but she, also, runs workshops teaching students and the public how to grow and preserve their own food organically without being dependent on heavy farming equipment. She has single-handedly run the program for 5 years and only makes $13/hr. Everything she grows goes directly to feeding the faculty and students and though it is a tremendous amount of work for her and the one part-time employee that she is allotted it is only a fraction of what the dining hall serves. The only way she has been able to survive on such a small income is by living very simply and by believing that she is making a difference. We met when I was working for a neighboring farm where one of her plots is located. Realizing we had similar goals, this summer we talked about expanding her program, starting a farm of our own or partnering with the farm I was, already, working for, but none of this addresses the greater issues that we are all facing. Fighting our singular battles only keeps us too busy and too preoccupied to defend ourselves against a bigger problem. Too many people feel they can't afford the time or the money to do anything about the issues that concern them because they already have to much to do and this is why our system is running on auto-pilot or by those who do not have our best interest in mind.

In major cities all across the country and the world young people, and old, are gathering and saying they want change. In the volunteering I've done and time I've spent with young people all I've been able to offer them is my ear and my honesty. When the subject of their futures came up, of course, I encouraged them to do their best in school and stay out of trouble, but I, we, have to be able to offer young people, and old, more than this. We have to address the problems we are facing with action not words. We have to pick one, or more, of the issues we feel strongest about and decide what are we going to do about it so I'm going to give 10 people in addition to Katherine, who, also, happens to be a long distance runner, and I, a chance to work for change in a way that is positive not negative, that bypasses the pointlessness of playing or arguing about a rigged game, and that uses their energy in a positive way to show people that when you are willing to do real work you will get real results in the form of real food, real shelter and real love. We are going to show that there are people who want to do real work and people who don't. Real work has existed as long as life on this planet has existed. No one and no system should prevent a person from working for their own existence. This is our natural God given right. We must work to live. We must work for the earth not for a failing man-made system that keeps us separate from the earth. Those who do not want to work should stop preventing those who do from doing so. We are going to prove that if a person is willing to do real work that has earthly value they should never have to worry about their future. And if they do have to worry, then the future needs to change.
Thank you for reading.



February 5th, 2012
The moonlight on nights like this makes it feel almost magical to be walking through the trees. I usually don't walk at night, but after not hearing from my new young friend I decided to leave my campsite in the state forest and walk down the mountain to the small city below. I knew I would have a long cold walk back up the mountain in the middle of the night if I decided to leave my campsite as late in the afternoon as it had gotten. Now, walking under the stars and bright sky, I was in awe of how beautiful it was. I don't know why. I'm outside everyday and night. Why was this one any more significant?

I waited until 2 o'clock before deciding to go for a walk after not hearing from Joshua. I left my sleeping bag and shelter at my campsite. I told him before we said good-bye yesterday that I'd wait two days before continuing on my journey. He didn't ask me to and when I told him his head was down, but he nodded and said "Ok" so I wasn't going anywhere. When you feel trapped knowing you have options or people on your side willing to help you makes all the difference in the world. Any one can say they care, but we only know they do when their actions show us this. The full bright moon definitely played a role. Maybe it was just escaping the city I was just in. When I made it down the mountain later in the afternoon and entered the outskirts of the "developed" area, it felt like I had entered another world. I remember walking by a big gravel pit the other day. The giant trucks and excavation equipment reminded of me what it might look like if we landed on the moon and were mining it for minerals. I know that sounds farfetched, but when you've been surrounded by the natural world for a long time your mind has to readjust when you find yourself surrounded by gas stations, shopping plazas, cars whizzing by and trash everywhere. I observe all these artificial things and the humans behind the wheels of their little gas powered space ships remind me of aliens. I think when it's cold out it's even easier to do so because people seem to hurry around in their dirty little machines even more when the elements aren't so inviting.

Anywayzzzz, it was superbowl Sunday and though I don't take it too seriously or play fantasy football like some of my ding-dong friends, I was still an athlete in a previous life and like a good game as much for the competition as for the opportunity to socialize and visit with folks. I laid down Job's yoga mat, he did a downward dog (-sorry) and laid on top of it next to my pack tucked out of sight across the street from a decent looking small town bar, put my wool sweater on him (don't laugh), left him food and water, and told him I'd be back out in a few minutes to check on him. I walked into the bar. It wasn't real crowded, but there were a good amount of people inside. I bought a beer, the bar tender told me there was all kinds of food, baked ziti, chicken parm, buffalo wings and a lot more, over by the pool table and to help myself, he handed me a raffle ticket with my beer and then called out the next raffle number. It was mine. I won a padded Budlight cooler in the shape of a giant football which I traded with the man at the end of the bar for a couple more beers who was disgruntled that the stranger who just walked in won the raffle. I loaded my plate full of baked ziti three times in between checking on Job and watched the Patriots lose a game the could of easily won. I couldn't help be a little happy for the Giant fans I was surrounded by. It was a good game and they wanted it more than we did.

As I was entering the urban area in earlier in the day I mentally prepared myself for the task of walking back up the mountain that night, about 6.5 miles. For some dumb reason I thought it would be unenjoyable. Maybe because times in the past I'd let myself get too comfortable in the company of others and the fact that they were heading off to warm houses and I was not get the best of me. I couldn't have been more wrong. The only thing unenjoyable was being alone in the "developed" area. Once I got out of it, I was welcomed back to the world I love so much. My body temperature easily rose keeping me very warm and comfortable and my buddy, Job, was having a blast. I thought about Joshua and hoped he was hanging in there which reminded me to call my "little" brother out in California who I met a few years ago working at his mother's horse stable. He was doing well and just turned 18 himself in December which was the last time we spoke. Time to take this trip to the next level and give people, young and old, something real to believe in and get involved with.
Thank you for reading.



February 4th, 2012
This is why following your heart, being open and honest works:
An 18 year old young man is standing in his parents shower with all his clothes on. The water isn't on. He'd come home from college for a visit and something went wrong. His mother walks in and finds him standing there. It's winter time, but the small window above the bathtub is wide open and the young man is staring out of it. In his hand is a loaded .45 caliber handgun. He's holding it by his side.
"Joshua*, what are you doing?" his mother asks not noticing the gun. There is a long drawn out pause.
"Joshua?"
He slowly turns to her and says, "It didn't go off."
"What?" she asks. Then she sees the gun in his hand.
He'd opened the window so the bullet after going through his head would go out the window and not put a hole in his parents wall. He was standing in the bathtub so his body and all the blood would be easier to clean up.
"Are you shooting squirrels out the window?"
When he was a younger, he'd gotten in trouble for opening the window in the kitchen and shooting squirrels that were eating all the food out of the bird feeders in the back yard with his bb gun. She wanted to believe this is what he was doing, again, but that wasn't his bb gun he was holding. It was his father's military issue Colt 45. There was a long silence. Slowly, he reaches over with his other hand and cocks the gun, again. This time slamming the clip hard with the palm of his hand. She notices a small note on the toilet seat lid.
"Joshua?"
She laughs nervously and reaches for the gun. He moves it out of her reach. Trying, again, and getting hold of the barrel momentarily she tries to take it from him, but he pulls it a way gingerly.
"Mum, be careful! It's loaded."
He's a decent sized kid and in good shape. His mother is a small woman and could never overpower him. His father walks by the bathroom door which is open and sees the two of them in there. He is a big man.
Jokingly, "What the hell's going on in here?"
There's a long uncomfortable pause before he asks, again. "Well?"
He takes a couple more steps closer to his wife and son and sees his gun and his son's hand.
"What the hell are you doing with that?" he says sternly and moves towards his son.
The tension in the room rises to the point that it's almost hard to breathe. His son turns and faces his father broad chested and puts out his arm to stop him.
"Don't", the young man says forcefully.
His father freezes realizing the danger of the situation.
"Joshua, please. What the hell is going on?" his father pleads. "For God's sake, give me that."
"Joshua, please," his mother repeats.
The stand off lasts for minutes, the young man refusing to comply, his parents paralyzed by fear. Time is in their favor, however. It allows the young man to calm down to the point that he relinquishes the gun to his father. As he takes the gun and leaves the room with it, the young man remains standing in the tub. His mother is holding the note and passes it to his father as he re-enters the room. His father is much more relaxed, now, that the gun has been removed from the situation and makes a joke. The young man puts his fist through the wall of the shower trapped by the fact that his only way out of the situation was just taken from him.

Believe it or not, but I met Joshua today on a trail in the woods. He'd escaped from the hospital where his parents had brought him three days ago and Job and I found him standing there in the cold without a winter coat on holding his pants up with one hand.
I asked him if he was alright and he said, "I am, now."
"You want a sweatshirt?" I asked.
Sliding off my pack and pulling out my fleece, I tossed it at him not waiting for a reply. Job who'd strayed off the path for a little while following a scent came bombing around the corner wagging his tail and headed right over to Joshua licking his hand as the young man held it out for him to sniff.
"Wow, he's friendly," he said smiling still holding my fleece in his hand.
"Not with everyone. I guess he likes you," I said.
As Joshua patted Job and talked to him, I picked up my pack and carried it to a little spot beside the trail, laid it down, sat on it, opened my water bottled and took a drink.
"You goin' back?"
I knew why he didn't have a belt on. I didn't know there was a hospital or police station nearby, but I knew he didn't have a coat and wasn't wearing a belt for a reason. I could see it on his face.
"Back where?" he asked.
I just looked down at the ground, "I ain't going to say sh*t to anyone."
He just stood there looking back towards the way he'd came.
"Well, put the fleece on so you don't freeze your ass off while you're thinking about it."
"I don't even think they know I'm gone, yet. It feels good just to know I can get out if I want to. They wouldn't let me leave my room until today."
"You sure showed them." We both laughed a little.
"If I don't go back, it's going to make even more of a f*ckin' mess than I'm already in."
"If you can get back in without them knowing you might be doing yourself a huge favor. How long do you have to be there?"
"I don't know. They said I was on a 6 day paper and then they'll decide if they were going to keep me longer."
Now, I knew it was a hospital not a jail.
"What day are you on, right now?"
"Today's my fourth."
"Is it helping?"
"No, they're f*ckin idiots. They've made it a lot worse."
"I know it may sound crazy, but if you want, me and ding-dong there will camp here for a couple of day's if you want to come back tomorrow and hang out. Tomorrow's Sunday and I usually don't walk on Sunday's."
"Where are you headed?" he asked me.
I, almost, gave him the same bullsh*t aloof answer I give everyone, but I didn't.
"Promise not to laugh?"
"Ya."
"I'm walking to Pennsylvania to prove to my ex-girlfriend that I still love her."

The reason Joshua was standing in his parents bathtub with a gun was because he broke up with his girlfriend a few months ago. He'd come home and was out with his friends the night before and had just seen her for the first time since then. They didn't speak. He ended up getting drunk and breaking his hand by punching a hibachi. He went to the hospital the next morning to have it looked at. They took x-rays, put his hand in a brace, and sent him home. The bone that was damaged was in the middle of his hand and they said there was no use to put it in a cast. No one ever asked him why he punched the grill. Later that day, he found his father's gun and went into the bathroom. He loaded and cocked it. After a long pause he pointed it out the window and pulled the trigger, but it didn't go off. He told me he didn't want to die, but he didn't know what else to do. After his mother found him in the bathroom and his father got the gun away from him, he called his ex-girlfriend and they argued. She hung up on him and wouldn't take his call when he tried to call back. He got very upset and flipped over the table in his parents dining room as his father tried to restrain him and calm him down. His parents managed to get him to agree to let them take him to a different kind of hospital to talk to someone because they didn't know what else to do. When the hospital found out that a loaded gun was used and he'd left a note, they asked if he'd like to talk to someone and he said "Yes" that was the reason they were there. They brought him down a hallway and he noticed how big the doors were that they'd just gone through. As the second set closed behind him he stopped and asked if he could leave if he wanted to and they told him "No". He told his parents they better leave because things were going to get ugly and they should go. They left pleading with him not to make things worse. He asked the doctor why he couldn't leave and the doctor told him that when a patient wants to leave it means that they really need to stay. Joshua kept his cool and three days later he was removed from suicide restrictions and was allowed to walk from the wing where they were keeping him down the hall to the cafeteria. In one of the hallways there were a set of doors that led outside and when no one was looking he pushed them open and walked out. He walked across the property, into the woods and kept walking. That is when he and I met.

He told me all this and talked to me for about an hour and then figured he should get back because lunchtime was ending and he didn't want anyone wondering where he was. I gave him my cell number and I'm camping here for the next two days or until I hear from him. I know writing about it is a little risky, but so is not writing about it. He's just a kid who was hurting and had no one to talk to so the hurt grew and grew until he couldn't take it anymore. If nothing else comes from my trip, I, now, know why I had to take it. I'm pretty dam glad I started walking on trails rather than roads. I'm not putting down my location until I leave this area. *I didn't use his real name.
Thank you for reading.



February 3rd, 2012
I've been walking on trails instead of roads a lot the last few days and it's ten times better. It makes my progress in a straight line a little slower, but it's much more enjoyable. Job and I crossed paths with a young guy in baggy jeans with a pitbull on a leash drinking a red bull, yesterday. We were pretty deep in the woods, but the trail crossed some high tension wires that accessed a fire road. He must have parked his car down at the end of it and walked up which was only about half a mile or so. It was great to see a kid dressed like him, no offense, out taking his dog for a walk even if the poor thing was pulling and panting on the end of a short leash. I gave him a quick nod and a short "Hey" and he did the same. I could tell he was nervous about Job. His dog was a short round little girl judging by the size of her head. I'm sure she would've enjoyed playing with Job. He told me as they got closer to us that his dog doesn't get along with other dogs very well and I told him it was ok and that Job wouldn't doing anything as I'd already told him to stay and wait for them to pass on the road while we remained about ten yards away on the trail. Our interactions with one another happen so fast these days because we're all affected by the pace of life in these hurried times that even a relaxing stroll on a sunny day is forced and fleeting. I wanted to tell the kid to let his dog off her leash and promise him that they'd be fine together, but it happened too fast. I told myself the next time I'm confronted with this situation I will. It's the owners that escalate the situation, not the dogs. Even if she was aggressive, Job would not have reacted to it because he was much bigger. If you're dude, even negative attention from a cute girl is better than nothing. She'd eventually realize he posed no threat and want to play with him. It's happened a million times with us as we've walked from place to place and met all kinds of dogs, but the young guy was in a hurry and I didn't want to try stopping him. It just seemed a shame to have all that open space and woods to run around in and she couldn't even enjoy it.

Today, Job and I were in a state park and I'd stopped to write. A couple with a golden lab/shepherd mix on a leash were coming down the park road towards us. We'd already been there a few minutes and Job was done surveying the area and was close by my side so I told him to sit and stay while I was digging out his water bowl. They were a little friendlier and commented on what a "good dog" he was to stay and sit like that. Theirs was pulling and whining as they passed by.
In a friendly tone, I asked "Why don't you let her off the leash? Are you afraid she'll run off?"
The woman who was holding the leash said "Yes".
I continued, "I bet she won't. I know it's a little scary. I've had friends who were afraid of the same thing, but they finally tried it with their two dogs on the farm we lived on and, now, they can let them off whenever they go for a hike."
We talked a little more and they let her off and Job and Waiver played for a good half hour. Her owners were so happy about it. They asked me questions about how Job got to be so good and I told them the first thing I did when I brought home from the shelter was take him to a big hay field and said "Go ahead," and I let him run as far and for as long as he wanted. Everyone always comments on how mellow he is like the ladies at the hardware store we stopped at later today who convinced me to let him come in the store with me rather than have him wait outside. They laughed as they jokingly motion for him to jump up on the counter and with a blink he was calmly standing next to the register to their amusement and disbelief. I said "Alright stop showing off and hop down." He followed me around the store until I found some thin rope I needed for our lean-to-tarp, rather than a tent. When I adopted Job he was so out of control that the girls at the shelter wouldn't let anyone meet him. They could not contain him. When I asked to take him for a walk they apologized, but they couldn't let me. They explained how they couldn't even get a collar around his neck let alone a leash on him. I convinced them to let me try and adopted him that same day as "crazy" as he was.

Unfortunately our programmed response to things we can not control is to restrain them often because of our own fears when we should be doing just the opposite.
Thank you for reading.



February 2nd, 2012
When I was 18, I started a list. As I was entering adulthood, I was receiving so many contradictory messages from so many different places that I didn't know who to believe or who to trust. On this list were the things I was absolutely certain of. It was short list and still is. First was "I am an animal." No different by design than any other. I need the same things as they do all of which is provided for me by mother nature. The only difference is my species chooses to see itself as separate from them and as a result has built a world to live in that is separate. Second on the list was "Community." I saw that people living and working together was better than individuals trying to live alone. Third on the list was something about a universal moral code which I still didn't have a solid answer for. I spent the next four years of college (in between drinking beer, getting in fights and trying to get laid) and many more wrestling with this issue.

This is what my heart has taught me with my mind's help. Only truth exists. Everything else is a lie. We, exist, because our planet was spinning through space at the correct distance from the sun to make life possible. If these conditions did not exist neither would we. This is a perfect example of what is true (No offense to people who believe in the Bible's version). Another example is, a flower uses sunlight, rain, and nutrients from the soil to grow. If any of these conditions no longer exist, the flower will die. A flower grows and blooms because these conditions are true. They exist and therefore it exists. The flower can not create these conditions. It can only exist if they are present. A flower does not so much choose to exist rather it simply does if its seed is planted in the ground where these things are true. It's life exists because the conditions which make it possible for it to exist sustain themselves. When these conditions sustain themselves for a long time, giant trees grow so tall that they almost touch the sky. It is truly amazing to behold true life in these forms.

If these things are true, then what is a lie? A lie is something that is, what we humans call, "made up". A lie is something that isn't true. It only exists when someone creates it. There doesn't have to be any true conditions in order for it to exist, although the best lies incorporate things that are true to disguise the fact that they are not. But, simple put a lie is something that isn't true. It can not sustain itself without someone making it up. As soon as someone stops telling a lie it dies. There are no conditions that allow for it to exist aside from the person or persons who are telling it. If they do not sustain the lie, it can not exist on it's own.

In comparison, something true exists because it can sustain itself because the natural conditions exist to allow it to do so, and a lie can not sustain itself because the conditions that it needs to exist for it to be true do not. To add, something which is true exists without choice. A lie exists because someone chose to make others believe it and it is, also, their choice to believe as well. Truth exists whether we choose it or not. A lie can not exist without us. It is our choice.

The next question is if two children are talking to one another about Santa Claus are they liars? Of course not, but why not? What they are talking about is not true even if they believe it, even if they think they have evidence of it. Though it sounds harsh, Santa Claus is a lie and these children believe it because they were taught to by those they trusted. It's that simple. They will continue to believe it until those telling them the "lie" stop doing so and tell them the truth. The sad part is they liked believing it and they will be very disappointed when they find out. Then, Santa Claus will no longer exist. Another way to put it is: Santa Claus is not real. He's made up.

This is what I know: I exist and I am an animal. Food is real. The clothes that keep me warm are real. The roof that keeps me dry is real. The work required to provide these things is real. All these things in their natural forms come from the earth and have earthly value. Earthly value is true value. Here's where you start to think I'm crazy (as if you hadn't already). I, also, know that money is not real. It has no earthly value. It is a lie that we've been told since the day we were born and we've believed it and it is the worse kind of lie. It is not the kind that we've been tricked into believing by deceit and dishonesty. It is the kind of lie that we have openly chosen to believe. I'm sure we have been lied to about how it's used by others many times, but we've known all along that it is not real and has no earthly value. We've lied to ourselves and we can not stop. We can not afford to because our whole world revolves around this made up thing and this is why we'd be lost without. This is the inherent flaw in living a lie.

When we were children we learned that telling one lie could quickly turn into many lies if we did not stop and confess we'd done something wrong. What would have happened if we had the power to make people believe our lies no matter how many we told? We would have made an enormous mess because we were children and wouldn't realize the magnitude of how bad this could turn out. This is exactly what we have done as a civilization when we started building a world that operates according to things that have no earthly value. We have created a lie and the only solution is to keep making more. The problem is because they are not true they pull us further and further from the truth and further from the natural conditions that need to exist in order for us to continue to exist. We have created a lot of power for ourselves, but we are still using it like children. This is because unearthly things have no wisdom of the earth in them. Mother Nature or God, created us. We could never create It. By gaining a lot of power over our environment we have forgotten that it is what gave us the power to begin with. We separated from it out of fear. We are not as strong and hardy as many of the other plants and animals and it is this fear that we have let come between us. "Lions and tigers and bears, oh my." When we face our fears we will see where we belong. The question is how much damage are we going to do and how much pain are we going to cause until we realize this. We are playing god in a very ungodly way and we can not stop without coming home to God, Mother Nature, and our hearts. It's a hard way back, but we know the way. We just need to get to know ourselves, again, or for the first time in our lives. The way is inside of all of us. All we have to do is stop and listen.

No, I'm not saying park your cars, throw away your cell phones, turn off your computers and let's go run naked in the woods. I'm just saying "Good morning." It's time to wake up.
Thank you for reading.



February 1st, 2012
Pretty hungry, getting skinny, but hanging on. You can only save up so much money lugging hay. I've been writing in the woods for two days and made it to a library late this afternoon to plug in my laptop and upload it only to find out it didn't save correctly and it was lost. Don't you love it when that happens? Serves me right to try to do things when I'm faint headed. It's probably best. I would have offended a lot of people. I've only got about an hour before the library closes.

The mind is a very powerful tool, but it needs to be grounded. Do you know what would happen if you started your car, but there were no bolts holding down the engine? All that power as you stepped on the gas would do a lot of damage. We won't even talk about what would happen if you ignored the signs and put the car in gear and tried to drive it. A lot more damage. I bet losing one's mind must be a pretty scary experience. When we learned to walk as a baby and we lost our balance for the first time, I don't remember exactly, but I bet that was pretty scary, too. Hopefully, Mom or Dad was there to catch us. What if they weren't? Would you try to walk, again? Probably not if you had a bad fall. If you just kept crawling, I bet part of you would know it wasn't the best you could do, but it was just too scary to try and walk if there was no one there to catch you if you fell, again. That is, not until you saw all the other babies walking around and knew you had to try, again. And then...you did it! You said to yourself with your little baby determination "Screw it! I'm doing this," and you succeeded. It may not seem like much, now, but stepping out of your comfort zone is what life is all about. The scariest part, is feeling like you're all alone and not in control. This is why we need each other. It's scary when there's no one around to support us if we lose our balance and fall. What's even worse is if those who are around us take advantage of the fact that we're down and can't protect ourselves. I guess if you're on your own, you can do one of two things. You can never try, again, and stay safe trapped by that fear for your entire life or you can go off by yourself so those who would prey on your mistakes can't hurt you and keep trying.

When I was 17 years old, something inside me told me this wasn't the best I could do. "Screw it. I'm doing something better," is what I told myself and I fell pretty hard. I wasn't done trying, but no one agreed with me so I did what was expected of me until my life was mine and then I kept trying. I've had three bad falls in 15 years and each time it got worse because of what those around me did when I was down. You can't expect those who've decided to crawl to help you learn to walk especially when they have all the power and will use it against you if you try to do what they're afraid to. That something inside will never say that how we are living, what we are doing to each other and this planet is the best that we can do. And, whether I like it or not it will only accept my best. I made a pact with it and it has my heart and soul.
Thank you for reading.



January 31st, 2012, Windsor Locks, CT
Job and I did about 7 miles together. He stepped on a broken bottle the other day that someone had tossed out of their car, so I've been making him take it easy. I did another 18 while he rested. I don't know why I keep track of my miles. I guess I'm still trying to prove to people that I'm not lazy. I just can't live like they do. The highlight of my day was finding a bat by the edge of the road. Unfortunately, it was dead most likely hit by a car the previous night. As a kid I was a little creeped out by bats, but, also, fascinated as we'd watch them dart through the night air on a summer evening. We'd through a stick or something straight up above us and watch a bat hone in on it in a split second and then fly away just as fast. As I crouched by the roadside, I was taken back by what a little work of art it was especially juxtapose with all the trash scattered along the road around it. All creepiness aside, it was beautiful. A little fury flying animal. Perfected by mother nature. It's face was only half visible and I know they're pretty alien looking, but it had a body as cute as a little mouse with these amazing webbed wings attached to it with tiny fingers at their corners. Unbelievable. A few feet away was a an apple core in a ziplock bag, also, unbelievable.
Thank you for reading.

*Man in blue pick-up with blue cap who waved on 190 in Union.



January 30th, 2012, Union, Ct
I haven't talked much about love lately and it's starting to weigh on me. I woke up this morning and I was in a hurry to get walking. There's nothing wrong with being driven, but when you start displaying negative behavior you have to stop and ask yourself "Why?" Being eager is a positive feeling. Being anxious is a negative one. They can feel very similar, but when you or someone else asks you to stop you will know which one you are feeling.

A few minutes ago, Job barked at a hiker who had come out of the woods and startled him. It lasted all of two seconds, I stopped him, told him to lay down and be quiet, and he did. We'd seen the same hiker earlier this morning and Job was wagging his tail and started to walk over to him as I had stopped to get something out of my pack. I said, "Hey you, where do you think you're going?" and he stopped and came back. The hiker said, "It's ok," and I could tell that he wanted to say "Hi" to Job, too, so I let them. I try to be respectful of others. Job's a big boy and some people are afraid of dogs. When Job barked I felt myself get angry, but it wasn't just a little annoyance. It was disproportionate to the incident. I got angry because I was hurrying and I had to ask myself what was making me feel like I needed to. It'd be easy to just blame it on the cold, but that wasn't it. I can handle the cold. What was I overlooking that was jabbing me like a spur in the ribs? I knew what it was, but I haven't talked about it in a while.

Writing is the closest thing I have to talking so I guess I should stop and write about it. Job's a pretty good listener, but he doesn't give a lot of feedback. I've had one conversation in three days and that was on the phone if you don't include the guy smoking the cigar who walked over to me from his yard when I stopped down the road from his house because it was the only place I got cell reception. He wanted to know what I was doing. Neither one of us were too friendly to the other. I use to go for weeks without seeing or talking to anyone, but, now, I'm trying to learn how to open up not just suck it up. There's a small library only a few miles from here. I can head over there and plug in my laptop.

Yesterday, my friend, Dave urged me to use a facebook page to promote my journey and a couple days prior my cousin, Michael, asked me what I was afraid of because I haven't created anyway for people to contact me through this blog. I guess what they don't understand is for someone like me, and I pray I'm not the only one, letting people in is letting them hurt you. What we, I guess I should only speak for myself. What I do instead is I try to work hard and do enough so that I reach a point where I don't need anyone and then I let them in, but, now, they can't hurt me. It has worked like a charm 9 times out of 10 in my life. I have sworn by it, but I know it's not the answer. As hard as this is, it's the chicken sh*t way out. This is exactly why it didn't work out with the person I started this website for. It's what I'm still trying to do by not letting any one contact me or use fb and instead I walk all day and write all day. I've been researching organizations to alliance with that deal with sustainable community development and youth mental health awareness to address global environmental issues and individual interpersonal issues. Yaaaah right, that oughta do the trick. Why don't you go walk in the freezing cold a little bit more until you get all the world's problems figured out, numb-nuts.

For some people, the loss of love in our life hurts so much because we have lost that special someone who we believe is the only person we can completely trust and be ourselves with because we believe that we think and feel a lot more than other people and no one understands us like this one person did. It's much easier for our scared little brains to confine all our hopes and fears to one person than to have them out in the world where anyone can completely walk all over them. The problem is I didn't completely trust her and that's why it didn't work out. What I need to learn is, as ridiculous and as arrogant as it may sound, if I feel like I'm carrying the whole world's problems on my back then no one person is ever going to be able to help me bear it and I have no right to ask them to. This is how our love is used against us. We believe we are protecting others from our pain by not letting them in, but all we're really doing is trapping ourselves with it alone. If I were truly protecting her we wouldn't have been at each other's throats before it ended. We would have listened to one another and actually heard what the other person was saying not just waiting to refute it, but we couldn't. We found something precious and tried to run away with it. Neither one of us could stop and by running the world and survival was bearing down on us. We were caring and civil to one another when we said good-bye, but by then we'd run too thin to do anything more than that.

The wild-spirited ones can't do it alone. We need a whole tribe to keep us from running. I don't mean to romanticize this by calling myself a wild-spirited one. I just don't know what else to call an intelligent, competent, hard-working person who can't seem to stay in one place very long. The more you feel the more you have to spread it out over many people or the more you have to do to block it out. Blocking out our pain only keeps it alive, but hidden so, now, we and everyone else are defenseless against it. If we don't deal with it we will never be able to see how our actions affect those we say we care about. If, instead, we finally find something that makes us decide we have to learn how to deal with it then we'll never want anyone else to feel it either. This is when it changes from a curse into a blessing. I'd like to stop someday, but until I find other members of my tribe, the road is where I'm spreading it. I'm still going to find some organizations to work with.
Thank you for reading.



January 29th, 2012, Bigelow Hollow State Park, Union, Ct
21 miles today. Actually back-tracked 5 miles to camp in a state park even though no camping is allowed.

Heard from my good friend, Dave out in LA, today. He's an actor and a model. We met in school and have been friends a long time. He was a football player and worked with kids in his spare time like I have. I shared with him how in a lot of my volunteering with kids it always bothered me when I'd see parents put their teenage boys on medication because they didn't know what else to do with them. Many times when I'd see these young men, again, they were completely different almost like they were in a trance. I knew it was from the medication. I don't judge parents for doing what they feel they have to do, but for so many kids I know there's a better answer. Medication when it is poorly prescribed is like turning up the radio when your car starts to make a bad noise. You may not be able to hear it anymore, but it doesn't make the problem go away. I want to show kids, parents and anyone else that there is nothing wrong with most of the people, young and old, on medication. They just need exercise and a creative outlet that allows them to express themselves. Most adults who have "good" jobs don't get enough exercise nor do they have a creative a outlet to express themselves. I remember reading a book by Dr. Victor Franlk called Man's Search for Meaning which documented his experiences in a Nazi concentration camp during the Holocaust. Dr. Frankl was a neurologist and a psychiatrist. He states that:

"An abnormal reaction to an abnormal situation is normal behavior."

Kids haven't learned what adults have and that's a blessing because they haven't given up hope, yet. Their problems are our symptoms. We need to listen to what their hearts are telling us if we've lost the ability to listen to our own.
Thank you for reading.

*Older gentleman in blue mini-van who waved, Woodstock, Ct
*Young guy with young lady in compact car, big wave, Woodstock, Ct




January 28th, 2012, Dudley, Ma
I usually take Sundays off from walking, but a school, Nichols College, wasn't far from the main road, rte. 197, so I took today off instead. I'll walk tomorrow. I spent the day at the library working on improving this website. I need to do more with this if I expect to have something to offer people.

I try not to be one of those people who takes their pet too seriously like buying them clothes or letting them ride on their lap while they're driving, but it's been wonderful having Job with me, again. He had a blast yesterday running around. We found a trail off rte.16 as it ran through the Douglas State Forest which was somewhat parallel to the road and we were able to walk in the rain through the woods for a few miles. It was almost too good to be true. When I thought about it, if I could bring my last dog, Bandit with me on my 2nd walk who had cancer I should be able to find a way for Job to come. His health is great. He's just not as young as he used to be, that's all. It makes it a little more complicated, but I can't believe how much better it is having him with me.
Thank you for reading.



January 27th, 2012, Dudley, Ma
*Person in little grey and maroon pick-up who waived, East Douglas, Ma
*Dennis, bought me a beer with my dinner, Gaslight Cafe, Webster, Ma



January 26th, 2012, East Douglas, Ma
One of the challenges of walking from place to place by yourself for long periods of time is fending off any tendency to feel like an outcast. Though the weather does play a role, it is mostly a social issue. It is much less a possibility when there's no other people around and I'm walking along a trail or small country road on a sunny day surrounded by beauty. The possibility exists more when I'm around people that I don't know which is pretty much all the time, no one is friendly and for some reason that day it seems to get to me when it normally doesn't. I can feel people staring. It could be in a small town, city, or shopping plaza. The less I identify with my surroundings the harder it is to not feel isolated and alone especially when my decision to live this way feels like it has put me at a disadvantage according to the rules of the game we're all trapped playing. On a good day, I feel lucky because I get to be me. I get to be proud of who I am and represent what I believe in my own unique way. On a bad day, feeling like an outcast is exactly that, feeling like one. If I don't take care of myself and choose to just tough things out which I have a bad habit of doing, it can turn into resentment that no one else cares either. It's very easy to feel unwanted if there's parts of you that you don't even want yourself. How can others care if you don't? Sometimes this can start when we are young and very impressionable. Whether intentional or not someone could have sent you the message that some part of the way you are is wrong or undesirable. If you believe it, you've just sentenced yourself to carry this shame for the rest of your life. Other times it's a result of being affected by things differently than others and concluding that if they're not bothered by these things why am I? There must be something wrong with me. I have to decide that where ever it started it's going to end with me because I would never let anyone feel this way so why should I let myself. Whether I realize it or not I've made decisions that represent there are parts of myself that I don't want to be and this is when a large chip forms on both my shoulders in the form of a heavy back-pack, the cold, the rain and the loneliness. By taking care of the parts of ourselves that we think no one else wants to we are showing them how to if they care about us, too. People are not mind readers no matter how obvious something may be to us. If you think something is obvious show people it is by doing it yourself. If it makes you happier, it will not only be obvious it will be happiness you can give to others.

Took advantage of the fact that I went to see my cousin on his birthday and while I was back, I kidnapped this big black dog that kinda likes hanging out with me. He's a pretty good way to learn to take better care of myself. I thought he would be a burden now that he's getting a little older and can't keep up with me like he use to. Well, he did more than keep up with me. I walked in a straight line. He walked up and down the road ahead of me, behind me, into the woods at one spot and out of the woods at another all the while never stepping one inch into the road. I never have to do more than snap my fingers or point a little and he'd know exactly what I was telling him. He'd sit by a tree and wait for me for days if I asked him to. People would always asked me how did I train him so well. "I just give him a lot of freedom and trust," was always my answer. I just need to do the same for parts of myself. The battery in my laptop's dying. I'll have to fill in how I'm going to do this later when I find a place to plug in. We're going to go play in the rain.
Thank you for reading.



January 25th, 2012
Woke up soaking wet on a sheet of ice yesterday morning. That was fun. I checked the weather before going to sleep and it said there was a possibility of light rain, so I rolled the dice. I normally don't rely on weather forcasts or even bother checking them. I usually just plan on being prepared for anything, but I fell asleep when I got in my bag to warm up for a few minutes and didn't wake back up. I've never liked sleeping in a tent, too stuffy and no view. I never even bring one. I prefer to sleep under the stars or on the ground with a tarp a few feet overhead if there's any dew, which allows me to still look around. I woke up in the middle of the night in the middle of the rain, layed down my tarp on the snow and pulled it over me like a blanket, but the damage was already done. Down sleeping bags aren't much use if they get wet and tarps don't breath only trap moisture so by morning the only thing left that was a little dry was my torsoe. Glad I slept with my rain coat on. Who wants to go camping with me this winter? Raise your hands. Yay! With a slow continual pace of energy my body temperature gradually began to rise in the morning as I was getting organized and packing up my soaking wet gear. The next town wasn't too far. I'd find a laundry mat and get everything dried.

Looking out the laundry mat window waiting for everthing to dry (down sleeping bags take forever), I started thinking about how I could make this trip more fun and enjoyable. I've got the toughing it out thing down, but what I need to be doing is smiling and laughing more not being cold, wet and miserable. Rising above your surroundings is all about attitude. I felt good about my first day despite the nights ordeal, but I have to take it to the next level if I'm going to do more than just survive the elements.

The sun came out as my stuff finished drying, I said good-bye to Fran, the nice lady who managed the laundry mat, and she wished me well on my journey. I walked across the street, bought a new tarp at the hardware store (mine melted when I put it in the dryer for a couple minutes -bad idea), put on a pair of shorts and my sneakers, stashed my back-pack in the woods and started running. It was my cousin's 27th birthday back in Dedham and it bothered me that I was only about 15 miles away and wasn't going to be there to celebrate it with him. Jogging fifteen miles in the sunshine was nothing compared to carrying a 50+ lb bag on my back. It was pretty chill, just a few of us, cake and ice cream, but I'm glad I went and I think he was, too. My family doesn't really get what I'm doing or even know what I'm doing, but I think they want to. Someday maybe. I know it's hard for people to understand, but in time I believe some will. My father even called me. We hadn't had an actual conversation in months, but we talked a little yesterday afternoon and he offered to give me a ride back to my pack so I didn't even have to run. I've thought of a way I can make this trip different and tomorrow we'll see how it goes.

I know my metaphors and aloofness frustrate people sometimes, but there's a reason for them. I'm trying to reach people's hearts not their minds. Our minds want everything to be rational and logical. They want to be able to label and categorize everything. We live in a very mind-made world and as a result, we get very frustrated when things don't make sense or do what we want them to. It'd be easier for our minds if everything was linear and finite, but there are no straight lines in nature or in your heart. It's a different kind of intelligence and it holds a greater power. I don't ever want people to think I'm against using our minds or everything they've created. I'm not. It's staggering what we've done with them. I just I want to show people there's a lot more to life than what meets the mind. A hammer is very useful tool, but it can only build things within the limits of its use. It can never make what made it. I'm just one person and there's only so much my mind can do, but my heart can do more than I can ever imagine because it's connected to something unimaginable and part of this is the sky, the trees, the ice, the rain and all of us. Misery loves company, but joy is a business that's always hiring (-sorry that was corny). Put an amazing tool to work for an infinte power and anything's possible.
Thank you for reading.



January 24th, 2012
Have you ever been playing a game as a kid, say kickball or some other team sport, and one more kid came along who wanted to play? If there was enough room on one of the teams, you'd probably let them play, right? What if, then the kid started to try and change the rules of the game? I'm sure nobody playing would be too happy about this, not to mention a little surprised. Even if the kid pleaded his case and used all kinds of logical reasoning, I doubt any of you would agree especially if the changes he wanted to make made it a completely different game. Before this kid came along, everyone had decided what game you, all, wanted to play and you had already been playing it for a while. Why in the world would you stop, now? I bet if you were winning, you really wouldn't want to stop. I'm sure some of you might even start to dislike this kid or even think he's a little nuts and wish he would just go away. I know I probably would.

This is what I believe:
Every person's life requires work in order to live. There are no exceptions. Your life, my life, or anyone else's can not exist without some basic necessities like food, water and shelter and it takes work to provide these things. This is mother nature's design. It's simple. Do the work, you live. Don't do the work, you die. All life requires work. A flower turns sunlight, rain and soil into all the nutrients it needs by doing work. A bird builds a nest by doing work. And though human beings seem to see themselves as different from plants and animals, we are no different from them when it comes to requiring work to live. For everyday that we live, a certain amount of work for our food, water and shelter is required. The only difference is we've invented our own system for work rather than following mother nature's design. We've replaced these necessities with a monetary value that we invented, so we're nolonger working directly towards providing ourselves with them. Instead, we work for money which we can use to get these things.

This sounds fine in theory, but one flaw in our invention is that people can acquire money without doing any work yet work still needs to be done in order for them to live. This just means that someone else is doing it. The amount of work that is required for them to live has to be made up somewhere. The less natural work is done the more and more out of balance the system becomes. Life is not a game, but the system we've invented has become one. Children play games. Some have figured out ways to aquire a lot of money without doing any work. Some even try to change the rules of how it's played to favor themselves. I'm a man and I don't want anyone working for me. The only children I want to work for are my own (if I'm lucky enough to have some one day), not those older than me. I'll let Mother Nature and those who's hearts are still connected to her design decide whether the work I am doing is worth anything.
Thank you for reading.



January 23rd, 2012, camped by the Charles River, Medfield, Ma
The first day's always the slowest. Only did about 14 miles. Might have to think about replacing these steel toe work boots with something else. We'll see how it goes. I can't be in a rush and I need to make time to write. The physical work isn't enough. I have to give it meaning with the mental work that being outside all day and sleeping in nature allows me to do. I have to show.... whoever that I'm not crazy or self-absorbed. I just have a lot of energy and I'm trying with all my heart to give it something positive to do. I love You.
Thank you for reading.



January 22nd, 2012
Got one hole fixed in my thermarest only to find another one. Ya, I know I could just buy a new one, but when you're not working saving money for food is more important. While this patch was drying, I taught myself more html code though I'd much rather build a website with a hammer, or hit this computer with it.
Thank you for reading.



January 21st, 2012
So you've got your five senses: sight, hearing, taste, smell and touch, but when I'm running out the door none of these are what tells me to stop because I'm forgetting something. It's something else. A feeling. Something that knows more than I do. I'm the one who is doing the forgetting. It is the one trying to get me to listen. Maybe it's just a subconscious part of me. Maybe it's a part of all of us. What if, to you, it was no less obvious than a table in a room you've just entered? All you have to do is look at it or walk over and touch it. What if every day you were expected to ignore it, but people still expected you to walk around it without ever acknowledging it was there? I've heard it said that saving the world is an inside job. Saving it on the outside definitely seems like an impossible task if you view all the things we're doing to the planet and to one another collectively. What if the best way to save the world, or just yourself, was to start listening to this feeling? What if this feeling was connected to all of us and the way it communicated with us was through our hearts? Wouldn't the things that affect our hearts affect our ability to feel everything we're suppose to feel?

Spent my fisrt night outside in a while. It was fine except for the fact that I found a hole in my thermarest. I hated sticking round another day, but I figured I'd better patch. We got a decent amount of snow, so while the patch was drying, I borrowed my uncle's truck and drove down to shovel my father's driveway. He'd never ask me to and it's been a mild winter, but it bothers me that I won't be around if we get more. I guess I can always hop on a bus and get back here if the winter takes a turn for the worse.
Thank you for reading.



January 20th, 2012
Made it to Southie and my cousin picked me up at the train station and we grabbed some dinner in East Boston. It was good to hang out with him before I left. He dropped me at my uncle's on his way to work in the morning. He works in construction as well and is building a school out in Wayland, Ma. I got to see more of my family before leaving and a bunch of us helped our other cousin work on building his house until way after dark. I think it may have been the first time we all worked together. I wished we did more of it. It was hard for my cousin whose house it is. He has a lot of pride like we all do, but it worked out great. We got a bunch of stuff done and he appreciated it. I partly suspected it was my uncle's attempt at trying to keep me around because he knows how much I love my cousin, his nephew. He came home a little early today and the three of us worked on it so more into the night, again.

They don't know it, but I'll be leaving in the morning. It's been great to get to know everyone a little better the last couple months I've been in Mass. I hope we've laid down the ground work to get to know each other better in the future, but I've had a whole other life before coming back and this is the path I'm on. There's a lot they don't know about me and I'm done hiding. I've been doing it so long I didn't even know I was. I need to keep writing and see this through to get to where I've been headed all these years.
Thank you for reading.

Rest in peace Etta James.



January 19th, 2012
Said good-bye to Job, yesterday.

As I walked along the river by all the new trophy homes that have replaced the woods I used to run around in as a kid with my previous dog, I couldn't help comparing this departure to my first walk. I'd left that year alone as well. I asked myself what is going to be different this time?

Headed north along the coast towards Boston. I hopped on the new commuter train when I realized that I wasn't going make it there at a reasonable hour to say good-bye to my cousin who lives in Southie. Sitting on the train I had a chance to write.

It's been 14 years. I can't believe it. I still have the movie I made from that first trip. I never tried to sell it or promote it, but it's a good reminder of where I started from. I kept a journal, and tried to update my "website", which was today's version of a blog, but internet access back then was a lot different. I've kept a journal of all my walks. I left on that trip with the belief that if we are honest we will always have so much to learn from one another. I knew being honest wasn't always easy, but what I've learned since then is that being honest with ourselves is the hardest of all.

The battle has always been between my mind and my heart. I guess I shouldn't even assume that people know what I mean by "mind" and "heart" or that they would agree that they both exist as two different ways to view life. When I studied subjects like psychology, sociology and philosophy in school, I accepted the general concept of the way a person views and interacts with the world known as "perception". Perception depends on complex functions of the nervous system, but subjectively seems mostly effortless because this processing happens outside conscious awareness.[Goldstein, E. Bruce (13 February 2009). Sensation and perception. Cengage Learning. ISBN 9780495601494, pp.5,7] To me this was the mind's attempt to analyze and explain perception, but my emotions ran so deep that as powerful as our minds are I couldn't rule out the importance of how other parts of my nervous system were receiving information from the external world in addition to faculties like sight, hearing, taste and touch. I was smart, outgoing and witty enough to hide how intense I was so people never noticed. I didn't have my first real relationship until I was 23 long after I graduated college. Because I was a jock growing up, and a hockey player at that, by the time I was in college and still a virgin I had to take matters into my own hands rather than live with the secret anymore so I found myself a pretty young girlfriend during my freshman year and took care of it. We were together a little over a month, I think, and though she wasn't a virgin I still felt bad when I realized it was a mistake and broke up with her. I was nice about it and we're still friends today. She's married with kids. Actually, I think she got divorced. Five years went by before I did anything, again.

I remember sitting in a little restaurant in a small town on the bay just over the bridge, north of San Francisco at the end of my first walk pretending like I hadn't woken up in the woods that morning. I wrote about how the answer for me was going to have to be to not try and think my way through life, but feel my way through it. I had to simplify perception into two usable concepts: thinking, my mind, and feeling, my heart. My biggest challenge was that I had to face the fact that feeling wasn't something that men in my world were allowed to do. Walking so many miles and pushing myself physically was one way of trying to prove that just because I felt so much it didn't make me a wimp. The truth is I like hard physical work so it was a fitting solution. To me, a man was given broad shoulders and a strong back for a reason and it wasn't to sit in front of a computer or in the seat of some machine all day. I think that's why so many guys go to the gym after work and why competitions like mud running and triathlons are becoming so popular. We're men and we need to feel like men. I like doing tractor work on the farms I've worked on, but I'd always be a little bummed when I was haying and had to go from doing squares bales to round bales because square bales require a lot of lifting, which I like, and round bales can only be moved with a tractor (although I have moved some this fall with big draft horses which is a whole lotta fun and requires you to push the bales into position).

I remember there was a fight in the dorms one night back in school and this big football player kicked open the lobby doors and stormed outside when it was over, pretty pissed off. I ended up sitting on a curb in the middle of campus under a street light talking with him (well, listening). We weren't really friends. He was a big dude, not really a fighter, not super cool. I'm sure I even picked on him a little a couple times for fun, but he was the kind of guy you wouldn't want to get mad. We're sitting there in the dark and he's going on and on about everything and then he tells me that he knows it's ridiculous, but right then at that moment I was his best friend. I was like "Whatever dude, stop being a pussy and let's go." We both laughed. He knew I was just kidding and I would've stayed out there with him all night if he needed me to. I'm not a big guy, but I'd been beatin the piss out of guys twice my size my whole life, but the truth is I never wanted to hurt anyone. As soon as I'd get a guy down, it was over. I didn't want to bash his face in, just put him in his place. As much as I like the competition, there's plenty of dudes I wouldn't want to fight. I think the more fear and pain you have inside the more you want to hurt someone. Fear comes from the mind. Courage comes from the heart. To me, it really comes down to looking out for your own and my own are big-hearted bad asses with nothing to prove. My fight has been on the inside and the only way to win is to get it out in the open where I can see it for what it really is. Because I've never did this completely my heart which is a gift has felt like a curse.

When I left the first time I thought I had to earn the right to be heard like the new guy on a job who can't come in and start going off on how things should be done without paying his dues first, so I thought walking across America might be one way to earn this. I figured that people might think that a person who was willing to go to such lengths might have something worth saying, but when people asked my why I never had a clear simple answer and this always sort of bothered me. I had other intelligent things to say that made a lot of sense and I truly believed them, but that was what I thought not what I felt. A simple answer to the question "Why was I walking?" always eluded me and now I know why. I was ashamed of my heart and didn't even know it. It took losing someone who touched it in a way no one else has that forced me to finally realize this. I've walked enough with that fear. I thought I had to do enough before I could say that how I feel matters. I don't. No one does. Our hearts are our compasses. Our minds are just the rigging on the boat. And, the truth is the wind. Pussy.
Thank you for reading.



January 18th, 2012
Yesterday's entry sounded too preachy. If I'm going to learn anything from this I need to talk less about what I think and more about how I feel. Thinking leaves too much room for interpretation, by me or anyone else. Talking about how you feel gets more to the heart of the matter because it forces you to make an observation about yourself. There is no judgment or grand conclusions in them. You are simply stating a fact. It takes a lot of courage to be this honest. When I resurrected this site and started writing here, again, I had to ask myself "Are you just obsessing over losing someone and trying to get them back or is there a larger purpose to this?" Immediately, I knew there was a larger purpose. I knew my heart was making me do it even if I didn't know what the full purpose was. All I knew was I had to do it. One reason I knew it was my heart telling me to do it was because I didn't really want to. My pride and ego were completely against it. Our hearts have a greater purpose than our minds can see. I am no more obsessing over the work my heart needs me to do than a beaver obsesses over chewing down trees to build his lodge or a bee obsesses over collecting pollen to make honey. I have to do this. It is a natural compulsion, one that I've been avoiding for too long. Now, I have no choice, but to obey it. I will spout out thoughts and feelings like a spring overflowing in the forest all day long whether someone is there to drink from it or not. My mind and my heart are at war and my heart is finally winning.

The next question I have to ask myself is "Why am I walking in the freezing cold when there is no possibility of seeing the person I started walking for?" Maybe I'm doing it to prove that you can't try make other people do what you want or need them to do and should never try to, but you can't let this keep you from doing what you need to. Maybe I'm doing it to prove that as hard as this might be it doesn't compare to hard it would be to give up without doing anything. Maybe I'm doing it to prove that love and relationships are more important than the importance our world is giving them and the reason we're allowing so many unacceptable things to happen that shouldn't be happening is because too many one us have given up on our hearts and on one another. Maybe I'm doing it to show people that making the world a better place has got nothing to do with how smart we are, how much technology we have or how much money we make and everything to do with how free our hearts are. Maybe I'm doing it to show people that turning our backs on one another is not the answer, that it's the situation that makes us do this not our love or lack of love for one another. I've learned most of what I believe in from the natural world and if I were living a natural life I would be living in a village where everyone who lived their shared the concerns and responsibilities of the entire village and if someone in the village had a problem then they all did and they all knew that if they let one member give up on their heart it was bad for the entire village. Maybe I'm doing it to show someone even if it's not the person I'm walking for, that this is the kind of man I am. Geez, that's a lot of "maybe's". Good thing I have some time to "think" about it.
Thank you for reading.



January 17th, 2012
Too often, our attempt at helping someone is trying to get them to do what we think they should do. This is a form of control and trying to control someone is usually an attempt at making ourselves feel better not them. Trying to control someone who you don't understand is not a good idea. If we are wrong, this only causes them more pain and damages any trust they had in us. They need to be in control. I've volunteered with kids for many years and I always develop strong connections with troubled youth who ordinarily don't have any interests in listening to adults. This is because I don't try to make them listen to me. I listen to them and I'm honest with them. Most people, adults and children, if they're paying attention can tell when you're not being honest. Anyone who works with kids and is good at what they do already knows this. When I say "good at what they do" I don't mean that they are good at their jobs. Anyone can be good at their job. What I mean is they are good at what the job is intended for, not just good at what allows them to keep their job and collect a pay check. In this case, their job is intended to help young people. The break in any relationship, especially when we're trying to be there for one another, comes when one person can no longer afford to listen to the other. Listening is how we show someone that they are important to us. Listening requires us to be able stop what we're doing and stop what we're thinking so we can be present and listen to what someone else is saying.

This is a problem for all of us. We can not stop. Everything in our lives enables us to never have to. It is all teaching us how to not be present. I'm sitting at home, so I get on my computer or watch t.v. I'm driving in my car, already moving at incredible speeds, but it's still not fast enough so I call someone on my phone. I'm standing in line somewhere so I start texting someone or check my email or call someone. This is all practice, practice at not being present. If you want to get good at something practice it. Practice it a lot. We are training our minds to never stop. Some of us have gotten to the point that we're texting one person while we're talking to another. Why do we do all these things? Because getting what we want will never give us what we need. There's plenty of people who don't do these things who are often not any better at listening or being present either. They just use other methods to escape like reading the paper or a book, getting lost in a train of thought, or even working too much. I won't even mention drugs and alcohol. You can do any of these things for the right reasons at the right time, but this is a matter of discipline, but more than that, a matter of how truly happy you are. Where are we all trying to escape from? Before all this technology what did we do, before phones and television, before cars? I'm not suggesting any of these things are bad. I'd make a lot of enemies if I did, but where are we in such a hurry to go? Anywhere, but where we are? If I were to ask most people to tell me when more than any other time in their life or any other time in their day are they most present what would they tell me? When do they care less about their phone, their email, their job, anything other than this one thing? Most would say it's when they're with the person they love. When we are with the one we love our heart has made it home and there is no need to go anywhere else.

Listening to our hearts will always lead us home. Our mind is just a tool to help us get there. It is a powerful and useful one, but it was not meant to lead. It can not see beyond itself. It is afraid of what it doesn't understand, can't control or fit into its little world. If we follow it we'll never get to where we need to go, and we'll do a lot of damage along the way. Put it to work for your heart. It can do great things, fueled by something greater. Listening to your heart is not easy especially when you are surrounded by so many things reinforcing your mind. The mind needs constant reassurance so it creates and surrounds itself with things that make it feel safe even if they are not good for you.

When I was younger, I found some direction by acknowledging my heart, but I found it alone like a secret. This gave me a so much relief that I took off after it and never looked back. I've spent a lot of time thinking I was on the right track, but it wasn't until I lost someone very special to me that I realized somewhere along the way I stopped following my heart and started listening to my head, again. I had all these lofty ideals and goals that made a lot of sense and were valid, but all they were really allowing me to do was avoid what I was afraid of. I was afraid to need anyone and following my sense of purpose that I found alone allowed me to convinced myself that I didn't need anyone, but just have them need me. Pushing someone away who touched my heart so deeply when they needed me finally broke me of this lie, but I pushed so hard that they will never come back. I was afraid to need anyone because the times in my life when I allowed myself to bad things happened, so I learned to only need myself. There is no point in this and it only reinforces the fear not eliminates it. If we let our minds control us we will never cease to find things to be right about. Our mind loves being right. This is the only thing it can love. Being right makes it feel safe from the fear it continues to avoid. Follow your heart and it will show you exactly what you are afraid of and the less fears you have the happier and freer you will be, just don't try to face them alone if you don't have to. Writing here and keeping "the list" is my way of saying you're not alone. If you want to know whether you are following your heart or your mind, observe how you behave when life tries to makes you stop. Do you fight it and try to justify why you shouldn't have to or do you say "Ok", smile, stop what you are doing and listen to what someone or life is saying? Listen to your mind and you'll always find a way to be right. Listen to your heart and you'll always find a way to make it home, sometimes it's to a home you never knew existed. See you when we get there.
Thank you for reading.



January 16th, 2012
As I was getting ready to leave my uncle's this afternoon, he, knowing I wasn't bringing Job with me, offered to take care of him for me if I didn't have any place else to leave him. He told me "This animal is a big part of your life." I thanked him and admitted that I knew this. Job actually saved my life one night, but that's not why I'm going to miss him. We were camped in the woods at the end of a dirt road leading nowhere in Chinook, Washington just across the Columbia River from Oregon. I had landed a job on a small farm and was set to start work the next morning. I have never started a fire when I've been on foot. Fires attract too much attention and walking from place to place camping is unfortunately more like hiding, at least in the United States. I remember traveling through Sweden one year and how great it was that it wasn't illegal. There, camping is a right. On this particular night I did have a fire because we weren't on foot. We were traveling in a Volkswagon Vanagon. I didn't really like it as a vehicle, not because there was anything wrong with it. It just wasn't me, but I bought it that winter to live in while I was working a big federal construction job. I was making crazy money for a carpenter, but couldn't justify the 3 hour commute from where the company was based out of to where the job site was. I bought the Vanagon and a small portable wood stove typically used by mountaineers then got a site at an r.v. park down the road from the job and was warm and toasty in my little cabin on wheels not to mention getting an extra 1 1/2 hr of sleep in the morning and getting "home" an 1 1/2 hr earlier than my buddies. I know it may sound a little crazy to have a wood stove in a Vanagon, but I was very careful and installed it with all the proper ventilation. You couldn't even notice it from the outside because my metal roof-rack obstructed anyone's view of the little aerodynamic chimney. Of course, I never used it when the van was moving. It was especially nice when me and my friends would go surfing. You can park right on the beach in the Northwest and there's nothing like a warm fire when you get out of the ocean at the end of the day.

For some brilliant reason, this night I decided to take the stove out of the van and cook dinner on it under the stars which was fine, but later on when it was time for bed and I thought the fire was completely out I put it back in the van, but didn't re-attach the chimney. I poured water on it a couple of hours earlier and let it smolder until there was no smoke whatsoever coming out of the stove, but carbon monoxide is invisible and odorless and whatever coals were still in the stove were releasing some. I feel asleep and carbon monoxide fumes filled the van. Job kept waking up in the middle of the night and seemed restless. This would usually mean something was lurking around outside. I told him I wasn't letting him run around tonight. I didn't need him getting sprayed by a skunk if that's what it was. When we were living somewhere and I had chickens then it was his job to wake me up so I could let him out. Raccoons are pretty nasty, but no match for his big head and powerful jaws. His restlessness continued and I wanted to get a good night sleep starting a new job and all, so I got up and took a walk around the little wooded area where we were parked. I couldn't see or hear anything, so I let him out and left the sliding door of the van open just enough for him to squeeze back in when he was done running around and went back to sleep. It wasn't long before he was back, still acting restless, and wouldn't let me be. Now, I was getting a little aggravated, but I had to stop and think about what in the heck his problem was. He and I have been through a lot in the nine years I've had him. I totally trust him and he totally trusts me. When you get to know an animal this well, it's almost like you know what one another are thinking. Friends always laugh when we're all hiking on a hot summer day and I look over at Job and say "Dude, you look hot. Why don't you go for a swim." He'll take off out of sight, find a creek, pond, or river to jump in and come back soaking wet. As he was standing over me on the pull out bed in the back of the Vanagon in the pitch black and I was still trying to fall asleep, I finally had to realize that something was wrong. I sat up and my head began to hurt. I felt a little disoriented and looked around. The moonlight was just bright enough to make out objects inside the van. I noticed the wood stove sitting on the floor behind the driver's seat with no stove pipe coming out of the top of it like it normally has and it hit me. I stood up and walked over to it. My head pounded even more and I was dizzy. I had carbon monoxide poisoning and didn't know it. I picked up the stove and carried it outside. I managed to fall back asleep thinking I'd taken care of the problem. I later found out that serious poisoning leads to a lack of oxygen to the brain causing headaches, nausea, vertigo, and even brain damage.

When I got up early to take Job to the beach before work, I was throwing up. The wind was howling that morning as he ran around in the sand, I called a friend back in Maine who worked in a hospital. I was like her adopted son and I knew she'd be up and at work because of the three hour time difference. She told me it sounded like I had gotten carbon monoxide poisoning and I should probably go see a doctor. I called for Job to hop back in the van and drove across the street and parked near a library to get a wifi signal and read up the matter. Got pulled over and given a ticket for not having my seat-belt on as I was pulling out of the beach parking lot going about 5 mph. The cop didn't seem to care much about my predicament or even believe me for that matter. I tried not to think it had anything to do with what kind of vehicle I was driving. I got online, learned how serious it could be, and drove down the street a few miles to a health clinic I found on the computer. After talking with me they told me I should probably go to the hospital and wanted to call me an ambulance. I told them I didn't have health insurance and didn't need a $500 ambulance ride tacked on top of whatever the bill was going to be at the hospital. They agreed to let me drive and called the closest hospital across the bridge in Oregon to let them know I was coming. I called the farm and felt like an idiot when I had to tell them I was going to be a little late. The owner of the farm was very nice about it and didn't want me taking any chances. After a few hours on oxygen at the emergency room I was fine thanks to Job. I was lucky. It could have been a lot worse.

Instincts. Job would not let me fall asleep that night because his instincts were telling him something was wrong. I don't know what he would have done if I had continued to ignore him. Thank god, I trusted him. He saved my life. I started turning to animals and the natural world for answers when I was still in college studying philosophy, psychology and sociology. What I learned in books was very useful, but it wasn't the whole picture. When I was in a hurry leaving for class one morning it was my instincts not my knowledge that were screaming "Wait!" as I was closing the door behind me with the keys still in the house. I knew something wasn't quite right. I could feel it, but I was in a hurry and still closed that door. When I walked out to the driveway and reached into my pocket for my keys, I realized what I'd just done. It was no big deal, not the end of the world or anything, but from that day forward I started trying to cultivate my ability to listen to that part of me that knew more than what I was consciously aware of. My instincts have never been wrong, but it's always been my choice to listen to them. The day has finally come when I can't ignore them anymore. I can not pick and choose like I always have. I will not make it if I do. I can not try to fall back asleep or I'll never wake up. It may sound overly dramatic, but you don't know how it feels like I do. If you did you'd know it's true, but I can't try to tell you if you're not ready to hear it. This would do more harm than good. We all occupy a position in the wide spectrum of thoughts, feelings, and personality types that make up the collective us and each of us need to stay true to that position or everything becomes out of balance. Though we are all connected, whether we realize it or not, there are moments when we can't see, don't understand, and may never completely grasp what someone we care about needs to do. This is when we need to trust them and maybe even listen to them. All I can do, right now, is write here every night and walk until I can't walk anymore until they stop screaming inside me that the ship is sailing, the door is closing and something is wrong. People may never understand this and they don't need to. All they need to is start listening to their own and we'll all be doing a lot better.
Thank you for reading.



January 15th, 2012
I'll packed up. I was going to head out tonight, but I decided there was one more thing I should do. I have a few more good-bye's to say, but that's not why I didn't leave. The great thing about leaving on foot is you can take care of good-bye's as you go. What I was trying to decided is what to do with the back of my back-pack. I've been taking some day trips with it and I've been thinking it looked pretty blank and uninspiring. So, I couldn't decided between either yellow tights with a pink cape that read "tuff love from above like a dove with boxing gloves" in rhinestones and sparkles or a giant baby turtle suit. I couldn't make up my mind about which one says "I'm a bad ass" more. It's a tough call. The tights would let me be more agile in case I had to spring in to action and fight unlove where ever it may lurk, but the turtle suit would probably be a little warmer and it is all about slowing down. Slow and steady wins the race, plus my pack would fit nicely in my turtle shell. Then I said "Hey, you don't have to decided tonight. Let the answer reveal itself like in a dream or something. For now, I guess I'm just going to print out something boring and slap it on my pack with one of those iron-on transfer sheets. It definitely won't achieve the same affect as "King Sh*t on Turdle Island", so I guess I'll just have to live with the fact that I'm just a wuss walking for love until it comes to me. But, kinkos isn't open on Sundays in Mass, so I'll have to wait til tomorrow.
Thank you for reading.



January 13th, 2012
It's a beautiful summer day. My truck is parked down by the water in a little hidden cove south of the harbor in Portland, Maine. Bandit, my former dog, is running around in the water. My girl is wearing a bikini laying out in the bed of my truck on a wooden tool box I'd built complete with a full size vinyl mattress on top of it. I'm sitting sideways in the driver's seat with my back against the door and my legs laying across the passenger seat. We were probably splitting a six pack and having lunch. The truck was a convertible so there was nothing between us except sunshine. Who could ask for anything more? I remember us both noticing a group of Monarch butterflies fluttering about the tops of a stand of wild flowers along the dirt road that ran by the water's edge. She remarked at how big and beautiful they were. I responded with half a grunt as if to say "They're nice. I guess," as I was preoccupied with doing nothing. She seemed displeased with my response, so I turned my head deliberately towards them and watched them with her.
"No, you're right. They are pretty cool. Want me to catch one for you?"
"Yah right, like you could catch one."
"If you want me to, I will."
"Whatever," she said and went back to sun bathing.
I just smiled at her and went back to enjoying the day. She was a hard-working blue collar girl. Never went to college, had her own apartment, bought herself a new car, paid all her bills on time every month and looked mighty good in a bikini. When we met a couple months prior, she didn't know what to make of me when she found me laying in the back of my truck on my padded toolbox at sunrise one morning. She'd headed down to the cove to let her dog run around. I was this wandering free spirit who had the same work ethic as her, but applied it to life in a whole other way. She later confessed that she watched me sleeping there for a minute before waking me up to say "good morning." The day before Bandit had run over to meet her dog from the lumber yard I was working at near the cove. I told her I was there a lot so she should stop by and say "Hi" anytime. I didn't tell her that I kind of lived there as she found out that morning. It'd just gotten back from San Francisco after my first walk and had decided to stick around Maine for the summer after discovering Bandit had cancer. I'd found a lump under his tongue soon after I got back and took him to the vet who then told me I should probably have him put down because he wasn't going to make it much longer than a month. That was seven months earlier and he was having a great summer. I told her that after living out of a back-pack for 8 months and getting pretty good at it, I really couldn't justify spending my hard earned money on an apartment especially in the middle of the summer. She had never left Portland, but always wanted to drive across the country. I told her that she definitely should. She was 22 and had her whole future in front of her. I knew how much breaking away from the norm had done for me and I wanted her to be anything she wanted to be. As fall approached, she'd made the decision that she was really going to do it. Her only concern was leaving her sick father, but he assured her that he'd be fine and he was. We'd talked about me going with her, but I had some things to still take care of in New England and she'd always planned on doing it alone, with her big lab mix riding shotgun, of course, and I didn't want to detract from that. Lucky dog. I told her I'd meet her out there when I was done if she wanted me to.

She'd already saved up a good chunk of money and was soon ready to leave. Before I picked her up for dinner the day before she was leaving I drove to her house and left a small heart shaped box on the hood of her car along with a brand new road atlas. The box had a little card attached to it that read "Spread your wings and..." and nothing more. She walked outside to meet me and found it as I watched from the around the corner. When she opened the box a Monarch butterfly flew out and fluttered up over her head and high among the branches of the trees and eventually into the city skyline. She stood there with her mouth wide open staring at me as I walked up to her and then back up into the sky shaking her head in disbelief. Though I think she really like the gift what I think she really couldn't believe during that time was that I was willing to let her go with my blessing whether or not we remained girlfriend and boyfriend. She didn't realize that I, even then as young as I was, knew you can't control love and that I had complete faith that if was honest and supportive of her everything would turn out the way it was suppose to. We broke up that fall before she got back and I left that winter alone. Well, I still had Bandit. She was a beautiful tough young woman who, also, had a lot of anger and the responsibilities she felt she owed to her sick father, her two brothers who were both in prison and the rest of her family made her hate me for my "fancy free" lifestyle. She couldn't understand, nor did I at the time, that because I didn't have a close family the responsibility I felt was for the whole world and I was trying my best to find a way to address it, as naive and impossible as that sounds. It was a painful break up for both of us. We never saw much of each other after that summer though we tried to keep in touch, but our correspondences always ended with her getting angry and shutting me out.

Ten years later, I got an email from her out of the blue. She was happily married and wanted to write me and thank me for teaching her what love and forgiveness were. I didn't know I had. She felt she owed me a long overdue apology for her behavior and for all the anger she directed towards me because it had nothing to do with me. She confessed that she tried to use my compassion for her against me, but the happiness she now has was a direct result of what I unknowingly taught her. Even though I had to wait ten years to get it and it caused me a lot of pain, too, it was one of the best letters I've ever gotten. It's like the whole world becomes a more peaceful place when you shed something you've been carrying a long time. I haven't had a lot of girlfriends, but I know if you're brave enough to put your whole heart into a relationship you'll always learn something from it and apparently teach something, too, no matter how long it takes.

All I ever wanted was for her and I to be on good terms and I tried everything I could to get her to stop being angry and open up long enough to say good-bye honestly. I almost managed to many times, but she could never be honest long enough. She just couldn't go there. She'd never learned how. It always turned into anger and how could she? We're all trapped in a world where we're not suppose to feel too much. Little did I know that saying good-bye was part of what she was angry about. I received her email a few months before you came into my life. Though I never wanted to say good-bye to you. I tried to a few times in anger and it was because I didn't know it wasn't you I was angry about. It was because I had trapped myself into doing things I thought was out of responsibility when it was really out of fear of telling you how I felt. I, now, know the only responsibility I have is doing what my heart tells me to and whatever that entails. I hope and pray it allows me to do as much good with my life as I can and someday allows me to be on good terms with you because when you're on good terms with someone who means the world to you the world is a better place.
Thank you for reading.



January 12th, 2012
Traveling like I have there's been plenty of times when I had to find work in a new town or city to fund my journey. I'd make a list of all the farms, fishing boats, or businesses that I was interested in, write up a letter (I hate resumes) including my experience, references, and why I was interested in working for them and then visit these places in person to introduce myself. It wasn't hard to do because I wouldn't work for anyone I wasn't genuinely interested in working for so all I had to do was be honest. I have a lot of interests. It worked every time. Initiative goes a long way in the eyes of an employer and all I had to do was put myself in their shoes and ask myself what kind of person would I want working for me. I've had a lot of jobs and, because I'd never work for someone I didn't like, telling them I was leaving was something I always dreaded doing. I hated disappointing them. We spend a lot of time with the people we work with sometimes even more than with our own families and the relationships we have with them have a huge impact on our lives, whether we realize it or not. Sometimes after working a job for a short time I'd realize that I didn't like working for them and those jobs were a lot easier to leave, but still unpleasant. If you want a good recommendation, you can't tell them what you really think. Deciding to go back on the road rather than go through the whole cycle of finding another job I'm confronted with the pointlessness of the situation and I have to be able to do two things: one, prove to people that it's not because I'm lazy. This is what walking long distances under harsh conditions helps me do. How can I be lazy if I'm willing to carry a fifty pound pack for 20+ miles day after day and week after week? Which brings me to the second thing. Walking and camping in the woods every night is hard work and requires a lot of discipline and determination. You would think this would make me an asset to any company I work for and it has. I've never had a hard time finding work or keeping a job even in this economy. When I'm eventually faced with the same issues that force me to leave almost every job I've ever had what I finally had to realize is: It's not about finding an answer to whatever problem might exist. The mistake I made as a young man fresh out of college with so many hopeful ideas and dreams is I assumed that people wanted answers. When looking at a job and the best way to do it, I am, again, faced with this same fact that they don't. Making money and running a business is a game and some people like playing it. Some people play it well. I don't see the point. Children play games. I'm sorry and I don't mean to sound rude, but I've met too many rich and successful people who are too much like little brats in grown-up bodies. This is what playing the game has taught them and the thing about playing games is you still have to go home when they're over. Show me a job that makes me a better man, not just makes me a lot a money and I'll apply today. Caring about what I do has become an enormous problem. How can I work for a scared, indiscipline, and wasteful system when I've spent my whole life trying to be as positive as I can in negative situations, efficient as I can performing any task and appreciative of everything I have when I don't have much? How? By proving to people that caring is not a bad thing. This is my new letter and I'm sending it to everyone else who doesn't want to stop caring, too. It's my job to care and the thing I care the most about is our hearts because their connected to mine.
Thank you for reading.



January 11th, 2012
I noticed, today, that you had blocked me on fb. I laughed about it because I did the exact same thing to you when you got mad at me for unfriending you when we broke up. It's all so ridiculous. We both are, but I totally understand. It's about control. We all need to feel like we're in control of our worlds. I'd never want you to feel hurt, angry, or upset about any of this, so I emailed you and told you that if you wanted me to I'd take down all the pictures that you were in on our page (even though I didn't use any that showed your face) which you said you did, so I have. I'll go back through it all and take out other info and replace the other photos, too. It's just going to take a while. There were mixed emotions on both sides of our exchange, but it was reasonably pleasant actually and I'm glad I offered. It makes me want to emphasize why this is so important. I don't get angry about the fact that you still refuse to sit down for a cup of coffee and talk just on time. It's just a shame. What I do get angry about is how you and a lot of other people I care about have to resort to such measures because the world we live in is so hard on our hearts. We are all caught in two different worlds and we all try our best to live in both of them often by shutting out our hearts never realizing that it's how conflicting these worlds are that makes us do this. It's funny how you repeatedly mentioned the fact that you don't have feelings for me and told me we're not getting back together when I've continually stated that I'm not trying to get you back. What you still don't understand like I'm sure most people can't is what I'm trying to show you and everyone else is that love, our hearts and our feelings can not be controlled. This is why we didn't work. This is why I ended it. This is why marriages don't last. This is why people have fallings out and never resolve them. It's too scary and why? Because we can control it, or them. The world we spend most of our lives in is a man-made world, or should I say a "mind-made" world, and this world is entirely based on control, so whenever we're faced with something whether it's another person or part of ourselves that we can't control it makes us very uncomfortable. My love for you is what taught me this. So often we judge one another in our minds. So often we make decisions in our minds without ever telling the people who are affect by these decisions how we feel. It took ending it with you and the hell that followed to finally show me that I was guilty of doing this. There was no way I could rationalize or justify that you weren't everything I wanted. (Ya, you aggravated the piss out of me sometimes, but that's just what comes with sharing my life with a strong-willed person and I wouldn't have it any other way.) If I was truly honest with myself, there was no way I could use these kinds of mental tricks to avoid dealing with the fact that I just got rid of the girl I wanted it all with. I've lived a pretty unorthodox life based around my refusal to not do anything I don't believe in, but what our love finally taught me is learning to understand how I feel should never be done in order to control how someone else does. I know you don't want to see me because you're scared. I was, too, that's why I was such an a**hole. The primary source of anger is fear. Anger is the mind's futile attempt to control what it's afraid of. This is what we did to one another, just in different ways. This is what you're still doing by refusing to see me or talk to me. This is why I haven't tried to make you. I know how stubborn you are. I know how stubborn we both are. The only difference is my stubbornness is finally serving my heart and yours is still serving your mind and I don't blame you. It's what runs the world we live in. I'm just not going to let it run mine. I would never ask anyone to try to do this because I know how hard it is. The sad thing is you were willing to and I wouldn't allow you. Instead, I let my own fears drive you away. I'm not afraid anymore and I'm writing about everything I once was here every night. What we had was a gift and I let this world come between us. I let money come between us. It was a timeless, beautiful, uncontrollable gift. Every feeling we have is and if I do nothing else with all of this I'm going to someday prove this to you with the gift it's given me. I love you.
Thank you for reading.



January 10th, 2012
Walking along the road on my way home this evening I was tempted to duck into the woods and camp for the night. The mild winter is inviting, but I'm not quite ready yet. I've been writing a lot about how important family is lately and I'm not sure who this applies to more, people who have close families or people who don't. Having spent so much time alone on the road ingraining in myself certain emotional survival tactics, recently I've felt like a jumpy thoroughbred that bolted and it's handlers are, now, trying to get it loaded back onto the trailer and all it wants to do is run alongside the truck to get where ever they want to take it. I talked with my "new" family yesterday afternoon. I say "new" only because they are my family, but we are trying to form a relationship after many years of being apart. I was putting things away and loading my back-pack when I noticed everyone standing around me. They had come down to my room to talk to me. As hard as it was for me and maybe them, too, it was amazing. It symbolized just how genuine they are and how lucky I am to have them in my life, now.

There were no simple answers because I ask myself some tough questions, but it didn't matter. They were not concerned with answers they were concerned about me and that's all that mattered to them. This is what makes me lucky. They didn't want me leaving after only being here a couple months if it was for the wrong reasons. My concern regarding allowing people to get close to me is that eventually the issues of the world that I feel we are all responsible for will always come between us. I want them to understand just like I want you and everyone to understand that I feel responsible for what I'm aware of. Once I see something that needs to be addressed I have to do something about it because I know no one else will because they don't see it they way I do. I've been living on the outskirts for so long that it has allowed me to see what others don't. Actually, maybe it's just the opposite. Maybe I've lived on the outskirts for so long because I see what others don't. What I see the most of is how we treat one another and how we treat ourselves.

The concepts that I talk about are hard for some people to understand because our minds are creatures of habit and if you've been thinking one way for a long time then your mind automatically reacts that way and it's hard to see it any other. The only way to do this is with our hearts not our minds and this is very scary for some people. This is all I want to do. I just want to reach as many people as I can that I can relate to and show them that how they feel is a gift not a curse. And, the only way I can show people is to break down all the barrier and insecurities that have prevented me from doing the same. When we give up on our hearts we give up on one another and I can't do this. The only way I know how to prove this is through hard work. I know that doesn't sound too inviting or make much sense and this is what I need to show anyone willing to see.

I finished writing around 5 o'clock this morning and fell asleep. I had a lot to write. When I checked my work a few hours later after I got up it was all gone. The last 5 days of writing were missing. I wasn't too happy about this, but because it happened so mysteriously I tried to find a way to accept it. I distinctly remember double checking everything and uploading yesterday's entry which followed all the previous days like normal, but this morning when I went to do some proof reading before starting my day, because there's always plenty of typos, it was all gone. I don't think I can get it back even though I tried for a while and maybe it's life's way of telling me I can't get you back. I just wish you understood me when I say "That is not what I've been trying to do." Yes, I would've liked to have tried again under better circumstances or at least gone for a walk (not one of mine, a regular one:), but that effort has to come from both of us and it didn't. Well it did, but at different times for each of us. Out of the entries that are gone, what I said that is most important is that I've decided I'm done hiding how I feel about you and about life and love in general. When I did this I started to laugh to myself and a smile appeared on my face that I couldn't make go away. For the hundredth time, I know this is crazy. I, also, understand that if you ever do read this that it would be pretty overwhelming. When we met, you couldn't believe how amazing our love was and, now, you may have realized that it's more love than you ever wanted. That's ok. It'll find it's source someday. I just thought you were like me and when you used words like "love, always, and forever" that you meant it. We get out of something what we put into it. I've put a lot into this and a big part of that is about meaning what I say when I give someone my word. If am lucky enough to meet someone who is like me, She will know and trust that when I say something I'm prepared to mean it, no matter what. That's what I'm trying to prove here. When I think of all my lofty beliefs and stubborn ideals and how I've tried to live by them I realize that a lot of what I've done I did by toughing it out alone. I can only imagine what it'll be like, now, that I'm not alone and I finally know why I'm doing it. I'll take down everything on this site that represents you when I get to where I'm going and only my love will remain....like a light in the dark for Someone to see. I'm still not convinced that person isn't you.
Thank you for reading.



January 9th, 2012
I'm standing in the pouring rain on the sidewalk in Boone, North Carolina up in the Appalachians Mountains. I'd usually set up camp and be in my sleeping bag before nightfall, but maybe it was the rain or my eagerness to want to make it to a town that made me push through tonight. I yelled as out of the corner of my eye a big bearded man in a long trench coat ran up to a young woman, probably a college student, as she was trying to get her car door opened and avoid him. He paused for an instant when "Hey!" came loudly from across the street giving her just enough time to slip into the car and get the door closed as she softly said "I don't have any money". He was furious and came barreling across the street at me getting bigger and bigger as he came about 6'5" and pushin 3 bills with whiskey on his breath which stunk, but was warm on my face in the cold night air as he berated me with insults and told me all the things he was going to do to me. I just stood there with my pack still on my back and stared into his eyes as he continued to yell. I'm not one of those guys who will get into a staring contest with a dude before we go a couple rounds. That's a little too much guy to guy eye contact for my comfort level, but he was putting on quite a performance so I figured I'd enjoy the show. He finally stopped to catch his breath and waited for me to take my turn. I didn't. This seem to frustrate him even more. He went on and on and finally paused, again, waiting.... Finally, I said "Are you done?" which was like kicking a horse to make it gallop some more and off he went, again. Completely unsatisfied he stopped and I said "Keep going. I'll eventually get mad enough and we can do this, but I've been walking all day in the rain and I'm kind of tired so it's going to take a while, but keep it up. I'll get there." Somewhat perplexed he stood there searching for a response. He asked me where I was coming from and I told him, on that walk it was the coast of Virginia. Next he asked me where I was going and I told him the coast of California. Then like someone flipped a switch, his mood changed.
"We shouldn't be fighting. We're brothers," he explained.
"Brothers?" I said.
"Ya, I love you, man," he said.
That was a little more than I was ready to express, but it was a lot better than beating on each other in the rain like a couple of idiots. He told me to come with him and brought me to a kind of secret half-way house down the street. It wasn't a house just an unmarked door right off the sidewalk that led to a couple of rooms, one with a few bunks, on with a little kitchenette, and one with a couch and a t.v. He got kicked out shortly after we got there, but I was given a bunk and told I could stay for a couple of days if I wanted. Before he got booted he told me that he'd just gotten out of prison and seemed to be on the fast track and to end up right back there. Staying there felt a little strange to me because I wasn't exactly homeless or destitute, but it was late and heading back out in the rain to find a place to camp seemed foolish when I had someplace dry to stay, so I threw my pack in a bunk, climbed up after it and crashed.

He and I were, at one point, like two animals in a stand off about to attack, but we somehow managed to avoid it maybe because neither one of us really wanted to fight even though we were both willing to. A lot of times fighting is really just an expression of unhappiness, an unhappiness that existed before the situation at hand even occurred and we just use the misunderstanding as a way to justify it. If at least one of the persons involved understands this and isn't unhappy themself the fight can be avoided, but sometimes when the fight is within us it's almost impossible for anyone else to see it including ourselves.

I lost my best friend to this battle 7 years ago. It still seems like just yesterday. The shame he felt was stronger than his belief that it would go away if he told people about it. I was a 2.5 hour drive from him when he did it and I couldn't get there in time to stop him. No one could. He'd gone out in his boat in the ocean so it wouldn't be possible. The shame becomes so great that it drives us so far from those who care about us that we make it impossible for them to help us even if they could. Doing what he did was the only solution he left for himself to make it go away. Years prior, his mother had called me when I was living nearby. She was scared and couldn't find him. I hung up and found him. We talked and things got a little better. I made him promise me that if he ever got to that point, again, that he would call me first. He promised. Years went by and we had some pretty long nights talking about the things that bothered him when I'd be home in between trips. He traveled a lot as well. He judged himself harshly, but now I see it wasn't through his own eyes that he did this. He was the most popular and loved person among all our friends. He came from one of the more wealthier families in our town growing up, but he never let it keep him from befriending anyone. He was the most caring thoughtful person I knew. Big and strong, as well. Towards the end, our conversations got longer and more frequent. He'd drive up to the farm in Maine or I'd head down to his place in Mass and we'd talk all night. He called me the day before it happened and even mentioned the "s" word, but it was an indirect comment. He didn't sound like he was doing badly. It was early evening and he was going out on a date with the girl he was seeing and she'd just finished getting ready so he had to go. I didn't realize that he was trying to tell me and keeping his promise. He had almost hung up the phone when I managed to stop him. I told him that he needs to understand one thing, "There's nothing wrong with you. We live in a crazy time in a f**ked world. This world is what's f**ked up not you. Don't you ever let it convince you that it's you." He said "Ok, I gotta go," and we said good-bye. In the middle of the night, I got a call. It was a friend who I hadn't talk to in quite a while. I was asleep so she left me a message to call her. I woke up a few minutes later. All I said when I called was "Is it D?" She said "Yes." I said "Is he alive?" She said "He's gone."

He didn't believe me. I was just one person. One opinion. One of the few he listened to, but it wasn't enough. He needed all of us. He'd been to doctors and therapists. His parents and brother loved him and they tried everything they could, but the judgment he had of himself was too painful to bare. It was the view of himself through everyone else's eyes that he never told. It was of this world. It was the fear of what they might think of him that kept him from telling them, but he was wrong. Everyone loved him, but none of them knew what he was going through because he was afraid to tell them. He didn't see anyone else having the problems he did, so why would he think they would understand. We all hide our pain and by doing this we're telling those we love to do the same. He would have never let anyone of our friends go through what he was going through, but by not telling them he wasn't allowing them to do the same for him. It's not what other people think of us that hurts, it's what we imagine they think of us that does the most damage because that idea exists only in our mind where it has the most power. The only way to take this power away is to get it out of our heads and into the world by telling those who it represents. I lost a lot of friends from back home over the tragedy. Maybe I never had them to begin with. Some people are afraid of what they don't understand and that fear can take many forms. What we won't deal with will be our demise. Some of us just hide it better than others, but it'll never see the light of day until it's too late if we're all trying to live independent lives. We need to learn to need each other. It takes practice and it's not easy especially for those strong enough to try and bare it all. Miss you, bro.
Thank you for reading.



Jan. 8th, 2012
Family is important. All of ours. It's not always easy to deal with stuff especially when so much time has passed and so many things have gone down. Mine is full of very strong personalities to put it one way. When I think about what it's like sometimes I equate it to meeting people on the road. Trying to have a conversation with someone who's living at the pace our lives are going these days when you've been walking all day at a much slower pace is like trying to have a conversation with someone speeding down the freeway in their car while you're standing by the side of the road. "Hi, how are you brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrroooooooooooooooommmmmmmmmmmmmma....." It's not very easy. Add the fact they we were never taught how to communicate. We've all been to school to some extent and we were taught to read, we were taught math, history, science, and a bunch of other stuff, but not how to communicate. I guess we were suppose to learn that on our own because it's soooo easy, right? Sitting down and trying to talk with a powerful passionate person who you may not know very well is kinda like going squirrel hunting with an M16. I hate to tell ya, but most people don't know how to talk about anything much deeper than the weather because it's not a necessity in order to function in our system. It's supposed to be something we do in our "private" lives. Most have never learned because no one ever taught them so most aren't in any hurry to sit down with anyone else with a loaded machine gun full of issues they really don't want to deal with and who could blame them? We need each other. Not to survive, not to make money and not even to be successful in this world, but to be healthy and happy. When we're all together that M16 becomes a sling-shot loaded with cotton balls because the intense energy powerful people posses gets spread out over all of us not just the person we're talking with. No, sorry I don't want to hold everyone's hand and tip-toe threw the tulips, but I have learned that it takes more than one tiger to tame another. Until we are together, again, for some of us it's all we can do with this energy to find something constructive to do with it rather than opt out and become numb to everything it makes us feel too much.
Thank you for reading.



Jan. 7th, 2012
One thing I've learned in all my walking is how fast people talk. On a typical day, I'd be walking since the moment I woke up at a natural pace and at some point during the day someone who was driving by would stop. Sometimes they'd ask me what I was doing or where I was headed because it was obvious that I wasn't just out for a Sunday stroll. Other times they'd ask me if I wanted a ride even though I wasn't hitch-hiking. There were a few bridges that couldn't be walked across so I did stick out my thumb for those or the year I started this site to get across the country quickly to pick you up and drive you and J out to California. Other than exceptions like these, people were stopping on their own accord. By walking like I was I had put myself in a position that made me available to a certain type of person. Because I wasn't asking for a ride I was unknowingly attracting people who were more outgoing and more considerate of others than most. Yes, I attracted a few other types, too, but my instincts had become so honed that I quickly identified them and politely told them "No, thanks." But, after my first walk, other than what I did for you, I stopped accepting rides. I'm not sure if I will this year, probably not until I get to see you, again, if I ever do. When I would meet people whether it was from rides, at a diner having breakfast or on Sunday at church, the conversation would take off and reach a pace that almost made me dizzy. I'm sure if they had been driving when we met that would be part of the reason because whether people realize it or not driving a car makes it very hard to stop your mind from speeding up. If you're not paying attention a car can be an outwardly expression of erratic thinking. Every road can become like a train of thought that you can't get off leading to another road and another until you mind is lost and you almost forget where you were going. Most people do a lot of driving. Unfortunately, because we have so many other devices and machines to keep that train a'rolling it's hard to make it stop. I'd even catch myself doing it when I'd chosen to live somewhere for a little while and had a truck or jeep. If I saw someone who needed a ride, I'd pick them up and quickly remember what it was like and stop myself before I was off to the races, too, dragging them along.

Walking on a quite remote highway in northern Colorado on a sunny spring day an 18 wheeler sped past me traveling in the opposite direction. In the expanse of the open landscape even though it was warm I could see the snow covered peaks to the west and was heading north towards Cheyenne then making a left to find a more favorable pass to cross the Rockies. As I heard the brakes squeal and the engine roar as the tranny down shifted I didn't look back. Not to be rude, but I'd grown accustomed to ignoring people driving by all day long because part of walking was learning how to slow my mind down and be present were ever I was and not get distracted by people in a hurry going someplace else. The big rig turned around and headed back towards me roaring to a stop when it caught up to me. The driver jumped out and walked over to me. By now, I had stopped a little ways a head of him and half turned around to see what he wanted. He seemed friendly enough, maybe a little jumpy. I'd been told by other people on the road that a trucker will never stop for you because most of them get paid by time, but if he's already stopped he might give you a ride. This guy had done a three point turn in the middle of the highway. We talked for a couple minutes. He was headed down to Denver and then back the same way to Fresno and told me if I came with him he'd drop me wherever I'd like in California. I explained to him that if I wanted to take him up on the offer why wouldn't I just wait until he was headed back this way. A lot of people didn't realize that I wasn't trying to get to California as quickly as possible. I would have just flown if that was the case. As he was trying to convince me why it was a better idea to come with him, now, a little compact car pulled up and stopped just a head of us. This quite little spot in the middle of nowhere was becoming pretty busy all of a sudden. Two guys got out and walked towards us. One had a dark glasses, a mo-hawk with dread-locks in it and hardware chain with a padlock around his neck. The other one had shaggy bleached-blonde hair with the dark roots showing, tatoos, pierced ears and a tie dye t-shirt. They walked up and the one with the mohawk said "What's going on here?" The truck driver continued on with his "proposal" and we all listened. The guys looked at me and I looked at them, the three of us looked at the truck driver and we all kinda just grinned. Shawn, the one with the mohawk walked over to the trunk of his car and opened it. Gabe, the one in the tie dye t-shirt, helped me put my pack in the back. Shawn told the guy "No, I think he's coming with us." I thanked him for his offer, wished him a safe trip and headed to Salk Lake City with Shawn and Gabe. That was almost 14 years ago and we're still friends. I miss them and don't get out to Utah as much as I'd like, but the time we spent together for the following week and the way their whole group of friends made me their own was one of the greatest experiences I had on all my walks. We didn't say much on the ride back to SLC, but we had a few hours and by the time we got their we were old friends. We still keep in touch. I don't spend a lot of time on FB and people can say what they want about it. I know it must be a multi-million dollar corporation, but if someone or something is doing good even for the wrong reasons it's my job to take the good and leave the bad. It's a tool if you want and have the discipline to use it to remind us that we're all connected. Instincts are what gave me the ability to see the gift in front of me. Being able to listening is one of the greatest gifts you can give someone, or in this case, myself, but we can't listen if we can't stop our minds from racing. The truck driver may have just wanted to give me a ride and have some company on a long haul or maybe he had other ideas. I wasn't in a hurry to find out. I hope I get the chance to listen to you.
Thank you for reading.



Jan.6th, 2012
Chopped wood most of the day to stay productive until I'm ready to leave. I have a few people to talk to before I go. The major reason I came back east was to reconnect with family. I've been roaming and moving from place to place for a lot of years on a journey to find the perfect place to live and learn what I needed to learn along the way in order to make it all work when I got there. This was a nice idea and it sounded like it made sense and no one could say I hadn't tried, but when I found it and then found you I had everything I said I was looking for. I had it all, or so I thought. What I had to learn the hard way is you can have everything you ever wanted, but if you get it for the wrong reasons then it won't be able to give you what you need. Our minds want and our hearts need. Give your heart what it needs and you'll never need another thing. Give your mind what it wants and it'll just want something else very soon. When we met our hearts finally found what they needed. I truly believe this, but our minds were still in charge and what a mess they made. Well, I should only speak for myself. Mine definitely did. Losing you, the person I was looking for my whole life, made me realize that I needed more than just you. I, also, needed family and I couldn't try to replace them with you, you with them or both with anything else. That is what I've been trying to do my whole life. This is what I had never admitted that You and them are what I've always been looking. I couldn't admit it because I didn't know. I knew I was looking for you and that's why it took losing you to make me realize I needed them, too. Family doesn't always have to be biological, but if you have some then that's a very good place to start if they want it, too, and the only way to find that out is to have the courage to ask. Everything I've done in my adult life I've done by myself, but when I came back east I was broken and the only thing that saved me was finding a family I never knew I had. They've always been here, but we grew up living separate lives. I finally found them by losing you and going through the hell I put myself through to get to the point that I had to admit I needed them. There's only one more person I need to do this with. I can't control the outcome and I don't want to. All I can do is create the opportunity and be brave enough to stand in the light and this time I won't be alone. I'll have everyone in my family, biological or not, who believes in love with me.
Thank you for reading.



Jan.5th, 2012
I can't believe how a simple stretch of grass on a sunny day can be so inviting. It just calls me to dive onto it or tackle Job and wrestle until we're both too tired or laughing too hard to continue (Well, he can't laugh, but you can tell when a dog's smiling). I know it sounds corny. There's a lot more serious things to deal with and talk about. Maybe it's dealing with these serious things that make this so fun. Maybe it's because we're in a city and stretches of open space and grass are hard to find. I left my job at the feed store, Tuesday, and though I'll miss throwing hay my next "job" should give me a similar work out. It was time to move on. I was there over a month and really wanted to make it work, but the people in charge had no desire, or ability, to deal with the personnel issues that needed to be dealt with and I didn't want to expose myself to it any longer. They were present long before I showed up and I tried just keeping my mouth shut and focusing on doing the best job I could, but it just wasn't worth it. It sounds crazy, but I don't work for money. I'm motivated by respect and appreciation. Not dealing with things doesn't make them go away, but it does make people who see the wisdom in doing so go away because they won't stand for it. This why this particular company, and many others, go threw so many employees unfortunately. It's a shame. I liked a lot of the people I worked with, but I have another purpose and I need to deal with it. I'm going to miss Job so much, but his days of walking long distances are over. He loves it, but by the end of the day he's limping and the next morning he's stiff and can barely get up. You wouldn't know it to look at him, but after ten miles or so it starts to show. I don't like it any more than he does, but I have to be responsible about it. He may be bored if I leave him with family, but he'll be safe. It should take me under two weeks to reach my next destination and maybe that's as far as I'll need to go. Maybe I'll head somewhere else from there. I won't know until I get there. Spent the day packing up my gear, gave Job a bath and put things in storage. I can't believe I'm leaving, again, but it's not for me to question it. I don't really have a choice. Working on a life and a purpose worth living is a rendering process. I started this journey with youthful angst and naive ambition, years ago, then it turned into an attempt to protect my values and, now, it's just plain love.

Time to pick up the hammer and break off another piece of rock. I'm writing about it because I have no one else to tell and I can't keep carrying it if I'm going to live the life I should. It'll be different to not have Job with me. Animlas feel energy differently than we do. I won't say "differently than humans" because "we" are not living as human beings should and if we were I honestly believe I wouldn't have have a lot of the challenges I face so my fight has been to find a way back there to a more natural way of life which was absurd for me to even think I could, but I still tried and came close a few times. Close was never good enough and it's because I still hadn't dealt with what was keeping me from getting there all the way. Ending relatinships over and over is what finally forced me to deal with it. After ending one of them, I was told that I "may not realize it, but we have a lot more in common than most people. Whatever the force was, it exists for a reason. Maybe one day when we both come to terms with our deep rooted emotional pain, we will have a better understanding." I'd like to think other people deal with their problems and they're really happy, but how people act says a lot about how happy they are. Truly happy people don't avoid talking about challenging issues. If we understand and learn from our pain we would never want anyone to go through it especially someone we loved, but if we haven't dealt with it properly we have no right to mess with anyone else's. This is why I'm dealing with mine this way, so I get it out of my system and rid of it, but also share it so others might come to terms with their own.

Animals feel energy more strongly than we do because they are not distracted like we are by all the meddling of our minds. I remember 7 years ago when I considered putting Job up for adoption because I was spending all my time month after month at the hospital caring for my mother when she was sick. He had always been able to run free on the farms we've lived on which was one major reason I believe he is so well-behaved, but now he was locked in a house day after day waiting for me to take a break from the hospital and come home to get some sleep and let him out for a few minutes. It killed me to leave him stuck in the house and after a few months not seeing any end in sight to the situation I started looking for a better home for him. I went through over 30 candidates and finally settle on a girl from Vermont. I hadn't thought I would've chosen a girl over a guy because he's such a big strong dog, but her lifestyle of hiking and camping in the woods and mountains of Vermont and the kind of relationship she wanted to have with her dog was the best one I could find for him. We used a trial period to make the transition. I went to Vermont for a few days and she would take him for part of the day and I would have him for the rest. One day when the three of us we're walking down the sidewalk in Brattleboro, the small city where she lived, another dog and owner approached us from a block away. She was holding Job and as the two dogs got closer to one another Job became aggressive. He was bigger than the other dog and I didn't want him to scare the owner or hurt the dog. As the confrontation escalated I grabbed Job's leash and calmly pulled him towards me and he settled down. It was uncharacteristic of him and no big deal, but it's an example of what happens to something powerful when it's put in an unstable situation. In the end, even though she really liked Job she convinced me to keep him like some of the other people I met had tried to do. They were dog lovers, too, and they wanted what's best for him and they could see it better than I could that the best place for him was with me. When my mother finally came home from the hospital and began radiation and chemotherapy, Job was instrumental in comforting her in a way that people couldn't. Something no one would have predicted, but makes perfect sense.

I've worked with all kinds of animals and it never fails when I show up at a farm, kennel or zoo and someone tells me to watch out for "that one" because it hates people it doesn't know. Before they can finish the sentence the dog, for example, has already jumped up on me in a friendly way and is trying to lick my face. The person always can't believe it. What they don't understand that even though fear is contagious so is love and you can't be afraid of something if you love it whether it's a dog, horse, tiger or person. But, you still have to respect their power. I've made too many excuses and ultimatums as to why I haven't been more direct with about my feelings, but that's just my mind trying to rationalize it's fears. Each thing I've done to represent my love appeased me temporarily like every trip I've taken and every mile I've walked has appeased me regarding other issues, but the fact is they have all been indirect attempts. I need to deal with things more directly.

Just like Job, my intstincts tell me when a situation has become unstable. It's true for all of us whether we're aware of it or not. When he became aggressive towards that other dog he wasn't trying to hurt it. He was trying to control it. It was our energy, not the dogs', that made the situation escalate. He was trying to reestablish order in the only way he knew how. Biologists and psychologists call it the "fight or flight response". This is why two dogs will sometimes fight when people are involved. It's not to hurt one another. They need to decide who is going to be the leader, or alpha, and who is going to be the follower. This is necessary because instinctually they both know that their chances for survival in the wild are far greater if they work together as a pack. Most dogs are "fixed" these days, so there are a lot less fights. Fixing them takes away a lot of their instinctual drive, but it's not a guarantee. When a dog is fixed it becomes a lot more submissive, so when it meets another dog it will most likely just want to play and not care about establishing order. Job is not fixed. If the two dogs had met without people involved there wouldn't have been any altercation. They would have handled it calmly and naturally the way mother nature had already designed.

I am not fixed either. The more instincts or alpha a person has in them the harder it is to trust what is happening in the world. I feel it everyday. When I got out of school and became an adult I was expected to get a job and join the workforce, but I couldn't see what we were working towards. I still had to get a job because I needed money to survive, but it wasn't in my career field. I worked construction and commercial fishing in the summers during school so this was how I continued to earn a living, at first. Even before I got out of school I could see how things were done in the "real world" and my instincts told me that it was very unstable. As a culture our response to this instability is to try to control the situation more and more, but I did not trust those doing the controlling so instead I chose to trust my instincts more and more. They are much wiser than I am, than all of us. I'll never know how many times they kept me safe while traveling on foot all these years and I don't need to.There's been plenty that I did know about. All I need to do is trust them. When something doesn't feel right, don't do it. It's that simple. My intstincts, also, warn me when a situation can not handle what I have to say or do, so I remove myself from the situation. When the situation and the people in it can handle what I have to do or say, my fears have kept me from being honest about how I feel because of things that've happened in the past when I didn't listen to my instincts. I need to face whatever I fear. Everyday I will write about what I need to get rid of and when I get where I'm going I will be free of it all. My instincts not my fears will then tell me what I need to do next.
Thank you for reading.



Jan.4th,2012
It was cool, today. Winter's finally here, but the sun was out so as long as you were moving around you could enjoy it. We were moving. Not far, just walked to the post office in the town square to mail a video I made for a family who lost their daughter a few years ago. I met her in Utah on my first walk with a group of her friends. Two of her friends, who quickly became mine, and I met on a deserted stretch of highway in northern Colorado, but that's another story. A few days later we were all in southern Utah at a place called Powerhouse Falls in Moab swimming and jumping off the cliffs in the hot spring weather. Last winter, I heard from one of those friends and learnt that she had passed away in a car accident. He mentioned how her parents didn't have a lot of pictures or video of her and wondered if I had any. That was the year I was making a documentary about my walk so I did. Though I abandoned movie making years ago for blue collar work, I was lucky enough to borrow some equipment and put together a short little piece from the footage I had of her. She was a very pretty girl, young woman, and definitely an original person. Maybe even a little rebellious, too. She was a trained gymnast, but was, now, running with a big-hearted rough around the edges clan of friends who called themselves "the Dirtheads". She was the only girl that jumped from the high cliff that even only a few of us guys dared to jump from. I was able to finish the video before Christmas and post it on youtube. It's not very long, but when you lose something so precious every little glimmer of their light is treasured. I feel lucky to have met her. We're all guilty of not realizing how lucky we are to have those who mean so much to us in our lives. We've only got one life to live and there's no excuse to not put as much into it and get as much out of it as we can. This begins with finding a way to put nothing above what's most important to you and to do that you have to know what that is. I do.
Thank you for reading.



January 3rd, 2012
Yah, right. Blah, blah, blah. This is all a bunch of talk. I've decided I'm being a pussy. Time to put up or shut-up.


January 2nd, 2012
I don't like the online thing even though I use it for the purpose of maintaining this blog because it's not a replacement for dealing with thoughts, feelings and one another in person. I guess it's selfish or maybe it's a control thing, but I like to be able to look a person in the eye when we're both attempting to be honest. It's how I know if a person is being upfront and straight with me. I have no right to know this and anyone could tell me it's none of my business and this is why the world is going to hell. I can not and will not decide to not care. We are all connected. I care about this world and those I'm connected to in it. Those that represent love to me more than others are who force me to be as honest as I have to be. Our hearts are what make us find eachother even online and our hearts are never wrong, but we can choose to or even unknowingly ignore them when we refuse to deal with eachother directly. I remember saying when things got so bad in my last relationship and I had decided to end it, "It doesn't matter how hard this is, we should be able to get along and work together to take care of whatever we need to in order to make things better." We couldn't. We couldn't even do laundry without getting into an argument. We couldn't even go to the beach without her dog running away and then fighting about whose fault it was. I would tell myself things like "My dog is the most well-behaved dog people have ever met and she can't even keep hers from running away every other day." My weak, scared little mind got to think it was so right and I let it force me to get rid of the one thing I cared more about than anything else. Our survival weighed too heavy in the balance for us to trust one another so we both reverted to what we knew which was to block out our feelings in order to survive. This is what too many people have to do to make it through the day. It put up a wall between us, so I sent her away. Everyday that followed was like a bad dream that kept getting worse and worse not better. I disappeared from the world and shut out all those I knew even her when she wanted to keep in touch. I was dying inside. I tried to make my heart work for my stupid little mind. I met a lot of girls week after week. I didn't sleep with any of them, but a lot of them wanted to. Some wanted my heart, but I couldn't give it to them. One turned out to be a good friend. I remember one stormy day on the fishing boat I was working on getting knocked around and hiding the fact that I was throwing up every 2 minutes, I looked out into the roaring ocean and wondered if this was the beginning of the end for me. I didn't think the boat was going to sink or anything like that, but my life was. I asked myself whether I should just finally let it. For months it went on like this. Waking up in the woods in pitch black hours of the morning, starting a fire, cooking a couple eggs on the wood stove, paddling across the flooded property in the canoe, getting in my jeep and driving down to the harbor, heading out to sea as the sun came up, throwing up everything I'd just eaten and dry heaving for the rest of the day all the while hiding it from my captain in shame, broke because we hadn't caught anything in months. I'd gotten a pretty good reputation in the harbor as being a hard worker so when he broke his ribs one day in a storm I was able to find work on another boat right away and the punishment continued. At least I made a little money then, but I was still broke and losing too much weight. Finally I had to quit when he healed and I was back working for him by then I was getting sick on dry land. I've worked on boats my whole life, so I tried to tough it out thinking it must be psychological. I remember talking to her parked in my jeep throwing up while I was on the phone trying to be there for her, but with little patience. She was hurting, too, and I wasn't there for her. I'd give anything to make it right. When she stopped calling, it got a lot worse, but there was no one to tell. I'm glad she is safe and has found some happiness, now. I never tried to push things with her after the dust settled and we weren't in contact much anymore because I know how tough she is and I don't want to stir things up in her mind if she hasn't dealt with them and if I'm not there to help. It took losing her to finally realize the parts of me I hadn't dealt with and now that I'm aware of them I can use all this love and energy to do something good with it at least in my own little world. I just wish all those that our hearts are connected to lived in the same one.

I know this sounds overly dramatic, but I don't care. This is life. I can't be bothered with those who don't understand because I was one of them once so I know what they're thinking and what they're afraid of. I don't want to give up on them either. I just pray you're not one of them. If she never goes by her friend's house where she used to live to pick up her present then I still won't write her off like I did before because there must be a reason. I remember when I was packing up and selling things off in California before leaving on another walk exactly one year ago, I got a text from someone that told me that they'd always love me. I was planning on walking back to the east coast, but the burden of not telling people how I felt was too heavy to bare so I tried to block it out and I pushed them all away, again. We were living separate lives then and still are, but at least, now, I've found a way to tell anyone who wants to know even if it is too late. I would have rather tell you in person and still will if I ever get the chance.
Thank you for reading.



January 1st, 2012
Well, it was a good attempt at turning something negative into something positive. I might have to go back and fill in the details once I get some sleep. My trip down to Pennsylvania went pretty good. I was even able to make it up to Killington, VT for a New Year's Eve party and celebrate with family. I didn't have anyone to kiss at midnight, but at least, now, my heart is free of any regrets and this makes it open to whatever the future holds. For someone who prefers to walk, I've been doing a lot of driving and it bothers me. I'm going to have to do something about this. I've written a lot these past few months and though I'd be a fool to think anyone would read it all, there's things I'll never write, things that I would only say in person. That's the price of all this technology as amazing as it is. This is just a computer screen. It's a powerful tool, but it's not a substitute for real life. Relationships can start on a computer screen, which is a whole other subject that needs to be addressed, but I began one at an airport in New Jersey. Maybe it ended at an airport in LA, but regardless it's not getting the part of me that is fully alive in this present moment. It can't. Technology only goes so far then comes God (for lack of a better word). It's still a mystery how I was found on the computer. I don't know what makes a person contact me. Maybe wild spirits can recognize one another even through technology. Maybe there's a little rebellion in finding another this way. I know some people have a past they don't like to talk about. Maybe when we meet this way we are easily forgotten by some. Maybe we busy ourselves with things that keep us from being truly present, but I have a rebellious spirit too and I've walked in the desert for days that became weeks staring at the same mountain on the horizon that never seemed to be getting any closer. You can't be in a hurry when there's no place to go. No television, no cell phones, no computer to help you escape yourself just your past, present and future all staring you in the face. Try to make someone deal with theirs and you're most likely going to have an angry person on your hands. I've chosen to put myself in situations that made me deal with myself. No one could have made me. No one makes most of us do anything we don't want to do either. The only way you're going to do something is if you want to. I've forced myself to deal with a lot more than most, but I hadn't dealt with it all. I'd only been able to deal with what I was aware of. My last mistake in love was what made me realize there was a lot more I was blocking out. When we find people online we're looking for something and sometimes we find something worth pursuing, but it can't absolve us of what we still need to deal with. Doing what I did to the one thing that meant more to me than anything else finally forced me to deal with what I hadn't yet. It's the price of trying to live according to your heart, I guess. If you want to live according to your head, you can lie to yourself all day everyday, but if you want to live according to your heart, you can't. It's a blessing or a curse depending on whether you want to live according to lies or truth. I thought a lot about what I'm going to do this year and I'm not sure how it's going to look, but I know if I come up with something I believe in as much as writing here I'll be able to put my whole heart into it no matter how hard it is and I know I will see you, again, someday in this life or the next.


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