Unsure where to start this so I’ll begin by mentioning what I took out of the blog: my thoughts on the police officer involved shootings as of late.
Why did I remove almost four pages of information?
All of the information I found admitted that there was a lack of actual information or facts related to the subject matter. This is apparently due to poor reporting habits in the United States and seemingly even poorer requirements by the Federal Government for law enforcement agencies make their individual statistics known. The reporting habits, or lack thereof, are enough for a separate blog; however, I do not have the energy for that kind of research considering The Washington Post reported an inability to find solid facts on the numbers from across the country.
I will leave that subject alone after I pass along these numbers (the best I could find including The Washington Post September 8, 2014 edition): since 2001 the numbers vary between 400 and 1000 police officer involved shootings in the United States each year.
My guess is that the actual number is somewhere between those figures ranging around the 600 police officer involved fatal shootings each year in the United States; I have no data to back that up, but I’m a reasonable dude and somewhere in the middle is generally where the truth sits. This fact does not comfort me of course, as the numbers are bloody staggering regardless.
As a comparison for anyone wondering; the numbers in Canada are approximately 90 police officer involved shooting fatalities since 1932. Wow. I can’t even (there’s your pop culture reference) begin to say how the comparison fails in any light. I must consider some widely differing demographic, economic, socio-political, and population related issues which contribute to the staggering realities. Of course I have named only a few possible differences between the countries.
It saddens me deeply regardless of the why, which is part of why I simply stopped digging. Well that is part of the reason I stopped digging. Another reason is the more I read, the more I found that instead of solid data, I was being told many reasons why the shootings took place, which of course is based solely on opinion, lacking evidence or data.
Every bit of information I uncovered led me to even more sadness and confusion. I respect and support the police services around the world; the job is probably one of the most difficult to do outside of being a soldier and it grows more and more difficult as time goes on.
I try to imagine what it would be like to be micromanaged so intensely…in everything I did…by not only management, but by the public opinion as well…oh wait. I have worked for charities before so it is really not that difficult to imagine. However, when I worked for the charity my life and that of the public were rarely at stake in the split second decisions I had to make. Even then however, I was often making choices that were overturned by someone who had never done the job before or been faced with those decisions on their own.
Try to imagine this in your world, whatever that might be…and I suppose, for argument sake, try and imagine that any decision you made might end in negative consequences by your management while at the same time, any decision you do not make could potentially end in your or someone else’s death. It changes things; at least in my mind.
I digress.
I simply cannot wrap my head around those American numbers; it literally causes some sort of brain hemorrhage. When I look at the proposed statistics regarding race of the victims of police involved fatal shootings in the United States, I cringe and have to look away. It is not because I believe all of the shootings are race related; I believe most of them are more likely “crime related”. I am not putting those numbers in here as I could not find any which seemed legitimate. I may have stopped looking because of how it all made me feel. You are welcome to do your own research and I recommend it.
This is what I was doing while I waited the two hours or so for my flight to depart from the Calgary international airport.
I need to start this second portion by stating outright: in my day to day life I have nothing to complain about as I have been given a wonderful life, made wonderful by faith, sobriety, family, and friends. I have no doubt that my life is incredible and that I do not deserve it or am I taking it for granted any time soon.
This being said however, what in hell is up with Air Canada Rouge and their seats?
My God man!
We were so crammed onto that plane I could not sit up straight in my seat due to the absence of leg or any wiggle room. Even the woman; approximately five feet tall, weighing in at less than one hundred pounds started her complaints immediately upon sitting down. As she voiced her displeasure, her gaze turned to me, trying to manipulate myself into the seat and wondering how one earth I was going to manage my legs for three hours…
Of course not everyone is slowly recovering from back surgery and thank God for that, as I imagine someone feeling my level of discomfort would have revolted on board at 20,000 feet. And that would have been quite messy. I am a relatively mild mannered, calm fellow these days but even I grew agitated by the lack of room and the gradual pain I experienced which slowly moved me towards some form of outward expression. Even if that expression was lying on the floor performing my physio-therapy routine while the stewardesses screamed and yelled for me to return to my seat.
Air Canada…for shame!
I could not get off of that flight fast enough although even that process slowed down. I nodded and muttered “thank you” and “take care” to the flight attendants, as I limped, wobbled and stretched my way into the Phoenix airport. All of this after we sat on the tarmac and waited for the plane in front of us to move so we could disembark; it was a definite exercise in patience, acceptance and pain tolerance.
My friend had everything set up for the trip and she minimized any possible problem I might have had. I am forever in her debt! There are always bright sides to any situation; sometimes it is easier than others to see the silver lining. On this trip however, the bright side seemed to loom over everything for all I was required to do was show up and participate; apparently she knows me well.
“It’s the least I can do…” I was fond of muttering and she was fond of responding with, “Well if you were aiming to do the least you could, you succeeded, I suppose…” All I could do was chuckle and nod my agreement…and continue to do the least I could at any moment in every situation.
Recalling the several back and fourths we had is making me chuckle out loud although I’m damned if I can remember what the rest were at this moment. I understand why Thompson may have used a tape recorder when engaging; it becomes difficult to remember the words when you are trying to recall the mood and emotional tone… and I haven’t used any narcotics or had anything to drink in a very long time.
I digress.
Our first stop was Sedona and I was not disappointed; our introduction to this area was an incredible view of giant Red Rock Mountains directly in our path.
This being said however, what in hell is up with Air Canada Rouge and their seats?
My God man!
We were so crammed onto that plane I could not sit up straight in my seat due to the absence of leg or any wiggle room. Even the woman; approximately five feet tall, weighing in at less than one hundred pounds started her complaints immediately upon sitting down. As she voiced her displeasure, her gaze turned to me, trying to manipulate myself into the seat and wondering how one earth I was going to manage my legs for three hours…
Of course not everyone is slowly recovering from back surgery and thank God for that, as I imagine someone feeling my level of discomfort would have revolted on board at 20,000 feet. And that would have been quite messy. I am a relatively mild mannered, calm fellow these days but even I grew agitated by the lack of room and the gradual pain I experienced which slowly moved me towards some form of outward expression. Even if that expression was lying on the floor performing my physio-therapy routine while the stewardesses screamed and yelled for me to return to my seat.
Air Canada…for shame!
I could not get off of that flight fast enough although even that process slowed down. I nodded and muttered “thank you” and “take care” to the flight attendants, as I limped, wobbled and stretched my way into the Phoenix airport. All of this after we sat on the tarmac and waited for the plane in front of us to move so we could disembark; it was a definite exercise in patience, acceptance and pain tolerance.
My friend had everything set up for the trip and she minimized any possible problem I might have had. I am forever in her debt! There are always bright sides to any situation; sometimes it is easier than others to see the silver lining. On this trip however, the bright side seemed to loom over everything for all I was required to do was show up and participate; apparently she knows me well.
“It’s the least I can do…” I was fond of muttering and she was fond of responding with, “Well if you were aiming to do the least you could, you succeeded, I suppose…” All I could do was chuckle and nod my agreement…and continue to do the least I could at any moment in every situation.
Recalling the several back and fourths we had is making me chuckle out loud although I’m damned if I can remember what the rest were at this moment. I understand why Thompson may have used a tape recorder when engaging; it becomes difficult to remember the words when you are trying to recall the mood and emotional tone… and I haven’t used any narcotics or had anything to drink in a very long time.
I digress.
Our first stop was Sedona and I was not disappointed; our introduction to this area was an incredible view of giant Red Rock Mountains directly in our path.
This first night in town went without a hitch…unless you consider food which tasted like cat chow at the very retro styled/alien-sighting motif diner a hitch? We did not.
We entered for the atmosphere and left wondering how it all could have gone so wrong while at the same time being quite alright. It began with the terrible service and ended with sub-par food. This could be a rough way to start any trip or review process but in our case, we felt grateful that we did not pick up some kind of food borne illness or ailment. I realize our standards are fairly low as I read this paragraph over again, but the truth is food can taste poorly and the service can often leave a lot to be desired but if you walk out of the restaurant without food poisoning after all the lead up, consider yourself very, very lucky.
I know I sure do.
The rest of the first evening was quite pleasant including a wonderful sunset from across the courtyard of the hotel balcony. The rest of that first evening is a bit of a blur due to that feeling of sheer exhaustion that I could not shake; this was my first flight and long road trip since my last surgery and the body felt every bit of the journey.
In all honesty, the body is still feeling the journey and I have been back in Canada for three days.
We entered for the atmosphere and left wondering how it all could have gone so wrong while at the same time being quite alright. It began with the terrible service and ended with sub-par food. This could be a rough way to start any trip or review process but in our case, we felt grateful that we did not pick up some kind of food borne illness or ailment. I realize our standards are fairly low as I read this paragraph over again, but the truth is food can taste poorly and the service can often leave a lot to be desired but if you walk out of the restaurant without food poisoning after all the lead up, consider yourself very, very lucky.
I know I sure do.
The rest of the first evening was quite pleasant including a wonderful sunset from across the courtyard of the hotel balcony. The rest of that first evening is a bit of a blur due to that feeling of sheer exhaustion that I could not shake; this was my first flight and long road trip since my last surgery and the body felt every bit of the journey.
In all honesty, the body is still feeling the journey and I have been back in Canada for three days.
The following day was my kind of holiday; a nice stroll in the morning with a stop for a large, Mexican food lunch before settling down for what turned into nearly a three hour nap! I may not have been as excited about the nap if later that evening I did not crash right out and sleep for nearly ten more hours ☺.
We had heard about these things called vortexes scattered around Sedona and that they held some kind of healing energy for those who visited. Of course we had to check at least one out, but on that second evening we found ourselves directed near the vortex but not into it. we had been sent to that mountain for another reason entirely.
We wandered around a hotel near the airport and found ourselves standing amidst one hundred or so other people waiting for the sun to set off in the west…just like us. I rarely get the impression that I am one of a kind or that my ideas are original; I feel like I have been around far too long to be that naïve so it was not a surprise that we all jammed onto the same look out plateau. We closely suffocated each other, waiting, surprisingly patiently as we joked about one thing or another while our shoulders rubbed and our bodies subtly writhed in anticipation.
K and I joked about all of us waiting for the sunset to come…at the same spot on the same cliff side as every other human being in the town of Sedona. There was a strange but peaceful vibe in the air as one onlooker carried a twelve piece Kentucky fried Chicken meal to a rock in front of us, two female companions in tow, and took a seat. I laughed out loud as this had become a serious event!
An event, which required the compliments of a full meal; it should not have been surprising what happened at the end of it all.
The truth is I was slightly offended by my own initial reaction to what at least half of the crowd did once the sun went behind the horizon. Well I was not offended at first; at first I laughed out loud and imagined the slow clap from cheesy movies replacing the very serious and intentional clapping many people had begun to do because the sun had finally set.
That is correct; people clapped at the sunset.
Like it was the end of a good movie or performance in the theatre.
Maybe the end of a sporting event which worked out to their approval.
This however, was a sunset.
The brilliance.
The beauty.
The magnificence of it all.
And I laughed. Well we laughed, but I cannot speak for K.
We had heard about these things called vortexes scattered around Sedona and that they held some kind of healing energy for those who visited. Of course we had to check at least one out, but on that second evening we found ourselves directed near the vortex but not into it. we had been sent to that mountain for another reason entirely.
We wandered around a hotel near the airport and found ourselves standing amidst one hundred or so other people waiting for the sun to set off in the west…just like us. I rarely get the impression that I am one of a kind or that my ideas are original; I feel like I have been around far too long to be that naïve so it was not a surprise that we all jammed onto the same look out plateau. We closely suffocated each other, waiting, surprisingly patiently as we joked about one thing or another while our shoulders rubbed and our bodies subtly writhed in anticipation.
K and I joked about all of us waiting for the sunset to come…at the same spot on the same cliff side as every other human being in the town of Sedona. There was a strange but peaceful vibe in the air as one onlooker carried a twelve piece Kentucky fried Chicken meal to a rock in front of us, two female companions in tow, and took a seat. I laughed out loud as this had become a serious event!
An event, which required the compliments of a full meal; it should not have been surprising what happened at the end of it all.
The truth is I was slightly offended by my own initial reaction to what at least half of the crowd did once the sun went behind the horizon. Well I was not offended at first; at first I laughed out loud and imagined the slow clap from cheesy movies replacing the very serious and intentional clapping many people had begun to do because the sun had finally set.
That is correct; people clapped at the sunset.
Like it was the end of a good movie or performance in the theatre.
Maybe the end of a sporting event which worked out to their approval.
This however, was a sunset.
The brilliance.
The beauty.
The magnificence of it all.
And I laughed. Well we laughed, but I cannot speak for K.
I laughed because it seemed hilarious to me that this ritual of mine was something spectacular to a hundred strangers. Being of such a life that I watch the sunset whenever I can and each time I do, I am caught listening to my soul, as it claps and hugs the very spirit and beauty of the splendid colors dancing across the sky…and that somehow, this experience has been dulled into the mundane.
It occurred to me once logic and reason begun working again that I had begun to take for granted this wondrous gift I am given whenever I watch the sun disappear to the west. It was at this revelation, my heart and soul felt somewhat offended by my mind’s initial reaction. I can still see the humor in the crowd’s response to the sun setting, but I can also very clearly see the clapping as an outward expression of our spirit’s catching a glimpse of the God like beauty captured in a clear sunset made all the more incredible when several of us can experience it together as one. Connected by the very thing we all sought in that very moment.
If for no other reason, the experience of a sunset is a signal that we have made it one more day. Regardless of our struggles or disabilities, we made it.
We survived.
For the human being this is no small accomplishment and for any of us who struggle with anything extra, it can mean our entire world has settled and we have been given another chance at life.
I felt it, as the laughter subsided.
That sensation of making it when several times through the past year, I did not want to stay; when I serenely and rationally let God know I was ready to go home. It may seem like an absurdity because admittedly I have an incredible life, but it is true.
With the need for surgery and then the actual surgical procedures, my depression at first reared its head and then it raged from within the depths of me threatening to swallow me whole from one beautiful moment to another. There were moments I could see the darkness, as all of the beauty in my life slowly filtered to the periphery where it seemed to linger, vibrate and seemingly die.
It would be a mistake to think that I purposely chose to neglect the positive or that all depression means is sadness.
I made daily and moment to moment choices to focus on the positive because I felt the depressive mind begin to settle. I had no sadness but slowly I had no feeling at all. Instead of emotion there was a heavy weight upon me, crushing and debilitating.
There was the thought that I wanted to feel good because intellectually I recognize my sobriety, family, faith, and friends. That my health was being given back to me through surgery and I was going to have another chance to treat my body better in the next however long.
I had quit smoking and was feeling better and better despite the weight gain involved. I am not going to lie and tell you all that I chose to not smoke without effort as the days stretched to weeks and months. I prayed and prayed and tried to let go of my ideas of body. It worked in the end, and continues to do so, but it was difficult as I watched the weight slowly settle onto me and knew there was very little I could do. I nearly chose to smoke in an effort to keep from putting too much weight on.
The fact that I could not exercise as much as I had before scared me to no end. This change did not help me as the depression crept in, crashing onto me like waves upon waves of heaviness and sorrow. It was in the recognition of these feelings that I can see my reaction to the sunset. The slightest thing can trigger such large scale awakenings and musings…
As K and I talked about the clapping I knew my mind finally understood what my heart knew instantly. A sunset is an experience worth clapping for. It is something not everyone is able to see. Imagine, as we stood there, sun slowly creeping behind the mountains in the distance that there were people in many places across the globe dying. Perhaps even in the town of Sedona that night. Never to see another sunset and perhaps looking through their mind’s eye at the last sunset they were able to witness... I let this thought sink way into me. And like a warm blanket the recognition filled and surrounded me.
A sunset is something worth experiencing.
A clap worthy experience if you will.
I will do well to remember this fact the next time I am able…
The following morning we found our way to a nearby vortex for the sunrise and morning meditation… I want to report that the vortex is exactly as they sell it, but that was not our experience. Sitting separately and attempting to let the energy flow through me I felt the very familiar sensation of my morning, prayer and meditation routine. Which on its own is an effective exercise in connectivity to my Higher Power; of course it was made all the more peaceful by the spectacular surroundings of a sunrise in the middle of the desert. I cannot deny the power of the desert in general but to say that anything special occurred in “the vortex” would be a stretch.
It occurred to me once logic and reason begun working again that I had begun to take for granted this wondrous gift I am given whenever I watch the sun disappear to the west. It was at this revelation, my heart and soul felt somewhat offended by my mind’s initial reaction. I can still see the humor in the crowd’s response to the sun setting, but I can also very clearly see the clapping as an outward expression of our spirit’s catching a glimpse of the God like beauty captured in a clear sunset made all the more incredible when several of us can experience it together as one. Connected by the very thing we all sought in that very moment.
If for no other reason, the experience of a sunset is a signal that we have made it one more day. Regardless of our struggles or disabilities, we made it.
We survived.
For the human being this is no small accomplishment and for any of us who struggle with anything extra, it can mean our entire world has settled and we have been given another chance at life.
I felt it, as the laughter subsided.
That sensation of making it when several times through the past year, I did not want to stay; when I serenely and rationally let God know I was ready to go home. It may seem like an absurdity because admittedly I have an incredible life, but it is true.
With the need for surgery and then the actual surgical procedures, my depression at first reared its head and then it raged from within the depths of me threatening to swallow me whole from one beautiful moment to another. There were moments I could see the darkness, as all of the beauty in my life slowly filtered to the periphery where it seemed to linger, vibrate and seemingly die.
It would be a mistake to think that I purposely chose to neglect the positive or that all depression means is sadness.
I made daily and moment to moment choices to focus on the positive because I felt the depressive mind begin to settle. I had no sadness but slowly I had no feeling at all. Instead of emotion there was a heavy weight upon me, crushing and debilitating.
There was the thought that I wanted to feel good because intellectually I recognize my sobriety, family, faith, and friends. That my health was being given back to me through surgery and I was going to have another chance to treat my body better in the next however long.
I had quit smoking and was feeling better and better despite the weight gain involved. I am not going to lie and tell you all that I chose to not smoke without effort as the days stretched to weeks and months. I prayed and prayed and tried to let go of my ideas of body. It worked in the end, and continues to do so, but it was difficult as I watched the weight slowly settle onto me and knew there was very little I could do. I nearly chose to smoke in an effort to keep from putting too much weight on.
The fact that I could not exercise as much as I had before scared me to no end. This change did not help me as the depression crept in, crashing onto me like waves upon waves of heaviness and sorrow. It was in the recognition of these feelings that I can see my reaction to the sunset. The slightest thing can trigger such large scale awakenings and musings…
As K and I talked about the clapping I knew my mind finally understood what my heart knew instantly. A sunset is an experience worth clapping for. It is something not everyone is able to see. Imagine, as we stood there, sun slowly creeping behind the mountains in the distance that there were people in many places across the globe dying. Perhaps even in the town of Sedona that night. Never to see another sunset and perhaps looking through their mind’s eye at the last sunset they were able to witness... I let this thought sink way into me. And like a warm blanket the recognition filled and surrounded me.
A sunset is something worth experiencing.
A clap worthy experience if you will.
I will do well to remember this fact the next time I am able…
The following morning we found our way to a nearby vortex for the sunrise and morning meditation… I want to report that the vortex is exactly as they sell it, but that was not our experience. Sitting separately and attempting to let the energy flow through me I felt the very familiar sensation of my morning, prayer and meditation routine. Which on its own is an effective exercise in connectivity to my Higher Power; of course it was made all the more peaceful by the spectacular surroundings of a sunrise in the middle of the desert. I cannot deny the power of the desert in general but to say that anything special occurred in “the vortex” would be a stretch.
I hope others experience whatever they need to or are looking for in order to connect, but I made an even more powerful connection after we left the vortex and I attended a step 11 meeting in the town proper. I walked through a prayer-meditation garden to reach the meeting and felt a presence much like the desert provides.
It was peace and all love.
Full of purpose.
I was home yet again.
It was peace and all love.
Full of purpose.
I was home yet again.
As for the vortex; if you can connect there better than other places, that is awesome! Go there and connect. If not, do not be discouraged as God is everywhere…
That which you are seeking is the very matter which causes you to seek.
I would love to take credit for these words, but my friend and brother, Dominic said them many years ago to me. I cannot remember for the life of me where he heard it. I want to say it was his martial arts instructor at some point, but I could be wrong. I had a tendency to drink a fair bit back in those days. I am amazed, quite frankly, that I can remember the words at all.
The next part of our journey took us to a volcano just north of Flagstaff, Arizona and the Navajo reservation which surrounded it. For as far as I could see lava rock and ash covered and lathered the landscape.
There are trees which occasionally beat the odds, growing through the wreckage. They remain after 900 years since the eruption and subsequent destruction. It is incredible to think that after so long a time the destructive power of mother-nature is still present and overwhelming.
It made me shiver to think of different places around the world which have been, in the not so distant past, touched by the more destructive nature of our planet. The vibrations of which will be felt for years to come and in some cases, hundreds of years.
That which you are seeking is the very matter which causes you to seek.
I would love to take credit for these words, but my friend and brother, Dominic said them many years ago to me. I cannot remember for the life of me where he heard it. I want to say it was his martial arts instructor at some point, but I could be wrong. I had a tendency to drink a fair bit back in those days. I am amazed, quite frankly, that I can remember the words at all.
The next part of our journey took us to a volcano just north of Flagstaff, Arizona and the Navajo reservation which surrounded it. For as far as I could see lava rock and ash covered and lathered the landscape.
There are trees which occasionally beat the odds, growing through the wreckage. They remain after 900 years since the eruption and subsequent destruction. It is incredible to think that after so long a time the destructive power of mother-nature is still present and overwhelming.
It made me shiver to think of different places around the world which have been, in the not so distant past, touched by the more destructive nature of our planet. The vibrations of which will be felt for years to come and in some cases, hundreds of years.
Our drive continued through Navajo and Hopi lands.
Lands which definitely felt lived in by memories and ghosts of those who came before. We visited Pueblos along the hostile landscape and realized how difficult things must have been. The landscape was beautiful as are the Pueblos and of course the history. The landscape is not particularly robust with wildlife, floral or fauna. In fact it is the absence of these obvious attractions which colored it all so intensely beautiful to my inner eye.
The absence, devoid of presence, fully silent and waiting which draws me deeper and deeper into the desert’s bosom each and every time I find myself wandering through her offerings.
Our tour brought us full circle; back to our jumping off, cliff edge…if you will.
That which you are seeking is causing you to seek.
Lands which definitely felt lived in by memories and ghosts of those who came before. We visited Pueblos along the hostile landscape and realized how difficult things must have been. The landscape was beautiful as are the Pueblos and of course the history. The landscape is not particularly robust with wildlife, floral or fauna. In fact it is the absence of these obvious attractions which colored it all so intensely beautiful to my inner eye.
The absence, devoid of presence, fully silent and waiting which draws me deeper and deeper into the desert’s bosom each and every time I find myself wandering through her offerings.
Our tour brought us full circle; back to our jumping off, cliff edge…if you will.
That which you are seeking is causing you to seek.
The next leg of the road trip brought us to The Grand Canyon, which on its own did not let us down. The scenery is magical when you move beyond the fact that it is an attraction not unlike Disneyland. We got lucky to hit our first couple of destinations along the south rim before the crowds gathered, making it nearly impossible to find the peaceful majesty of a landscape completely unique in my memory.
The feeling I got looking out into that vast, deep canyon was similar to staring into the mouth of the Rocky Mountains. I am small. My issues are small. The world is magnificent. I am a small part of this magnificent world. It is an incredible sensation to look inward while also looking outward and seeing the definite connection to the vast external and the vast internal.
Despite our personal issues with the crowds along the south rim, I would have to recommend to anyone that they witness the Grand Canyon in some capacity. If you are able to get there around sunrise, I believe you will not be disappointed. I imagine in fact, that you will witness something extraordinary. You will also miss the throng of people lurching around as though they were in a theme park. Which of course, in a way we were wandering around the greatest theme park of all.
As a side note, if you are in the area of The Grand Canyon and you happen to be heading towards Williams, Arizona you should drop in and wander around Bedrock City. It is slightly creepy to go inside the houses and the different buildings within the park, as you get the sense that someone or something lives in each one.
Despite our personal issues with the crowds along the south rim, I would have to recommend to anyone that they witness the Grand Canyon in some capacity. If you are able to get there around sunrise, I believe you will not be disappointed. I imagine in fact, that you will witness something extraordinary. You will also miss the throng of people lurching around as though they were in a theme park. Which of course, in a way we were wandering around the greatest theme park of all.
As a side note, if you are in the area of The Grand Canyon and you happen to be heading towards Williams, Arizona you should drop in and wander around Bedrock City. It is slightly creepy to go inside the houses and the different buildings within the park, as you get the sense that someone or something lives in each one.
It really is a must see however. It served to wash the taste of the massive crowds from our mouths. It served also, as a wonderful stopping point on our way to route 66 and the nostalgic images and ideas that stretch of Arizona highway brings to mind.
The remainder of our trip was on the road back to Phoenix. The trip was incredible and covered quite a lot of ground for five days and a desert that seemed to change landscape quite regularly as we drove. It was something to see the incredible beauty of a country often wrapped up in one form of difficulty or another. To witness the people being human regardless of their individual and national struggles is something to behold. There is a purpose and an undeniable strength within them. I tip my hat to each and every one of the Americans we had the pleasure of meeting.
My travel companion made it all possible and above and beyond that she made it worth the while. Her depth of knowledge, awareness and insight created an environment worthy of an educational tour. I am not only speaking of the landscape and attractions we visited, but of the human spirit and the human being. I not only value her friendship but her presence on the planet. Knowing she is out there today, doing her thing and enhancing her universe one person at a time makes me feel content. The world is better with you in it K.
Of that I have no doubt.
Thank you from the bottom of my heart. I will remember parts of our journey for as long as I remain able to cognitively recognize memory.
I have generally chosen to travel alone through the years, but this trip solidified something I felt last year while travelling Mexico with another friend. The experience is exponentially better when you can share it with someone who appreciates similar things to you even if you do not agree with one another all of the time. Being able to see and sense similar undercurrents is an incredible blessing and I will do well to remember this fact as well.
Share whatever experiences you can with those who hold meaning to you. I had never known anything like the sensation of carrying a shared experience.
I am blessed indeed.
By the grace of God I go.
David Lewry
My travel companion made it all possible and above and beyond that she made it worth the while. Her depth of knowledge, awareness and insight created an environment worthy of an educational tour. I am not only speaking of the landscape and attractions we visited, but of the human spirit and the human being. I not only value her friendship but her presence on the planet. Knowing she is out there today, doing her thing and enhancing her universe one person at a time makes me feel content. The world is better with you in it K.
Of that I have no doubt.
Thank you from the bottom of my heart. I will remember parts of our journey for as long as I remain able to cognitively recognize memory.
I have generally chosen to travel alone through the years, but this trip solidified something I felt last year while travelling Mexico with another friend. The experience is exponentially better when you can share it with someone who appreciates similar things to you even if you do not agree with one another all of the time. Being able to see and sense similar undercurrents is an incredible blessing and I will do well to remember this fact as well.
Share whatever experiences you can with those who hold meaning to you. I had never known anything like the sensation of carrying a shared experience.
I am blessed indeed.
By the grace of God I go.
David Lewry