One of my admirers once told me “please don’t fuck up my life.”
The request took me aback, but I smiled with the realization of where we stood in relation to each other. He was younger that I but not more confused than I had been at his age. He looked to me to give order to his life and to put him down a path of confidence, and it was my responsibility to change his perspective to teach him to look into himself to answer questions of uncertainty.
Without a smile I gripped his shoulder, leaned forward and looked deep into his eyes telling him “Trust me. I’m not going to fuck up your life. In fact, if you’re open to it this could be the best thing that ever happened to you.”
With that touch, the eye contact, and those words, his face softened just a bit. There was still fear in his eyes by which the elimination of was our unspoken agreement.
And with that he began to tell me that he keep a very high standard of himself. I told him to start keeping a higher standard of himself.
Any degression into fear or uncertainty is a mistake and it is the responsibility of the mentor to cut these thing out at the root. To foresee them before they manifest in any way. Trust is confidence. If you trick people into believing in a false sense of confidence you are leading them off a cliff and fuck you.
It was fun to party on the beech with the Lahina kids. We had even worked out a method that could take us to exactly where we wanted to be. Fred could stick a bottle of liquor between his belt and belly and must have walked away with over 15 bottles the week I was there. We would then walk down the shore to where the resort beaches where located and we would party.
It was an idealistic way to fuck around on the beech from the beech bum position, but there was no trust between friends and the group was constantly turning on the weakest member of the group. It was draining spiritually and I knew when I started that I would be usurped of my stamina within a short amount of time.
Having been drained I decided to sell my jeep and move back to New Orleans. Many people were inquiring about the sale and my schedule was full. If the jeep would have sold I would have moved to Nola immediately; and then I met Joesyia.
Joesyia was man I had known from the island for a long time. I was a big fan of his brothers and hung out with his brother as much as I could without becoming attached. Joesyia came to look at my jeep. He didn’t end up buying the jeep but he did end up offering me a job and a house to live in. I moved in that same day and training began.
The first three days were dedicated to healing my mind and body. I didn’t eat food and everyday we would put colloidal silver on my ankle to heal a staff infection I had developed. After I had healed we knocked doors for solar sales and things became somewhat normal besides the ohms in public places. I would wake up and exercise, meditate, and read. It was progressive and I was loving life. Training eventually came to an end and I had to leave the house. I went into the woods.
I drove the jeep out past Hanna where I knew if an ahowaska ceremony that took place every month. The jeep could only go so far and the walk was long and wet. Showing up dripping I found Anti to ask if I could participate in the ceremony. She told me that there they were already overbooked and could not fit me in, I should have called to get on the list. Leaving I was sad that I had came so far to be turned away so easily. Right as I was about to leave one of the farm workers found me. He told me that if I could find some work to be done around the farm and kept my head down I might be able to get in. One of the girls needed help picking flowers and we went skipping through the fields to pick. Later I asked Anti if there had been any cancelations. She looked at me and said “I am going to go ahead and say no. There is just not enough room. Remember to get on the list next time and, try not to take it personally.”
I took it personally and made for the long walk home. My jeep broke down on the road home and after spending the night in the back seat I packed up and hitched my way out of Hanna leaving the jeep behind.
I write this passage from an old and run down bus that has been refashioned to be a lounge for the workers of the farm. We wake up early and work until sunset two days a week. Most of what we build is for the party in October and I am working on sleeping in the dome but first it must be built.
It feels right here. The people are far out and more real than anything I have found this far. This chapter of my life will look and feel like a fairy tail and I can’t wait to see how it unfolds.