Small Beginnings
Quite A sight to see …
Chasing a total solar eclipse, I took a photo of my gear in 2017. I dove into lava beds, scaling walls and relishing my adventures.
These were the origins of Poet.
To think that I felt so alone then, that I would live in my van for five months, that my life could change so quickly … surely eons have passed since that day.
For many years, I was dabbling in life. A little here, a little there, then onto the next. I could accomplish whatever I set my mind to … for about two days.
And then depression would hit me with a right hook.
K.O. baby!
I was out for a while.
School, work, sleep. School, work, sleep. Naturally, I became a deeper and deeper sleeper.
Such a routine was easy to sink into as I fought an uphill battle against the proverbial quicksand. Against myself.
The pressures mounted and I had no other choice but to leave this world … or to find my own. So, from small beginnings, I decided to end my life. Despite what the future may hold for me.
With everlasting gratitude and forgiveness, I did not commit to that decision. I am here to write this today.
Following that rough patch, I chose to leave the world once more … through solitude.
I was involved in a car accident and lost my ole girl. Betsy was her name, my Jeep Grand Cherokee. Thank God no human lost their life that day. But that is when I first laid eyes on her. My darling dark-green Chevy.
Ah, the Mothership! Apart from my own body, no better vessel could support my life’s journey. But, alas, the journey was blind for some time.
All those years later, he’s still got the magic touch.
Until a series of images graced my waking eyes: a man … a woman … a child … all singing hand-in-hand … a sovereign society, harmonious and brotherly.
I knew if I could see it, we could be it.
Still, I had to be practical. I had to explore solutions for a world at large, not solutions which were found far away from cities. At the time, I longed to create a community of van-dwellers, my way of “hacking” the system. I even searched for a plot of land, some place I could call “Bumfuck, Egypt.”
Ironically, my habits of isolation proved to be a weakness … and also a blessing. Soon, my next vision came.
I saw myself on a stage, sharing wisdom and love with thousands of supporters. I realized that we are the change, together. We must knock on our neighbor’s door so that he may open it and, in doing so, he just might open himself up to experience a deeper connection and a deeper humanity. I realized that not all are willing. Some will close up shop and lock their doors, some will draw their curtains and batten down the hatches.
Hide yo kids, hide yo wife!
That is my purpose though : to simply show up for those in need and invite all people to look upon the great outdoors with me, even if they choose to view it from inside for a time. To join forces but not armed forces. And thus, I hope to unite both the poet and the practitioner. We do not sit idly in the face of suffering, for these are the faces of each and every one of us. Artistry and activism converge when we upturn our heads and remind each other of our own power.
Once more, I can feel an open space surrounding me … my finger resting gently on the shutters. From such small beginnings, that photo sure spans out far and wide when I gaze upon it.
Power To The Poets!
Find me on …
Facebook: Power To The Poets
Twitter: @powertothepoets
Instagram: powertothepoets
Snapchat: powertothepoets
Tumblr: powertothepoets
Musical.ly: @powertothepoets
Pinterest: Poet
P.S. I’d like to personally acknowledge Caroline Camp and all of the other free-spirits I met on the road to Mount Jefferson, Oregon. Thank you for the reassurance you gave me regarding YouTube. I won’t forget it! Much love.