Episode 13.1 - Visions of Gerald, Part 1

Somewhere between home and Indianapolis, rolling north along I-65 on a rattling old grey dog, the knot I woke up with in my stomach had untied itself. Almost always before a trip I battle reservations. The urge to go is an incessant and unforgiving one; but I almost always look for reasons to stay … signs and symbols, messages and meanings.  It’s too close to another scheduled trip out. I sometimes read meanings into the weather: it’s too cold, too hot, too rainy, too dry. I ignore the complete the wisdom that experience and habit have dictated over the years … which is that I tend to hit the road when the weather’s cold. Like some bird taking off for warmer weather, only to eventually return theause that’s where the wind carries me.  Sometimes I look into Amanda’s eyes … eyes full of love and acceptance of the peripatetic nature of my soul… and look for an excuse there.

Those are the most difficult excuses to overcome. But she knows why I go. And so do I.

 On this particular trip, though, my faith in the currents that carry has been waning. I’ve needed this trip… needed it badly for all the reasons I need to head out into the world from time to time. Plus, there was even a little purpose behind it. Not only did I promise to participate in a poetry reading in Milwaukee, I was also told about a performance by beat writer and beat chronicler Gerald Nicosia… with a chance to maybe meet him.

But then I was in Indianapolis, one of my least favorite bus stations in the country, waiting for a bus to St. Louis on the day of the Nicosia reading, when the auditorally and vociferously gifted  service desk attendant announced that schedule 1683 … the bus I’d been waiting 3 hours for … was cancelled.

I began to question both the development of, and the untying of that knot in my gut from earlier. Maybe it wasn’t just pre-travel jitters. Maybe it was my gut trying to tell me something that my brain, for all of it’s excuse making, was trying to tell me. (This wouldn’t have been the first time.)  And it wasn’t that I was especially worried. I’d been stranded in worse places, INCLUDING that very station when they still had the buzzing lights that gave me a headache where my spine meets my skull EVERY SINGLE TIME I WAS THERE. But I was only two hours from home, and I knew there would be another bus at some point. There HAD to be, since it was the INDY to LA schedule… a route I’d taken to the end of the line and back before.  

Again, maybe looking for signs and symbols, I called Amanda to update her. This reaction on my part was completely unnecessary, but again, something in my brain was looking for symbols where there were none. I was looking for a sign that I shouldn’t have left, that I needed to go home.  WHY? It’s not like I was doing anything that wasn’t already prearranged and discussed. And I even knew if I DID go home, I’d just be looking for another way to get out and that I’d have to wait a month until my planned trip out to LA.  Amanda asked if there was anything she could do from there … in other words, was I so stuck that I couldn’t figure it out with out someone with a computer and better WiFi signal. And of course, I wasn’t that stuck. I was bummed about potentially missing Gerald Nicosia, but all I could do is sit back and let the current… which I started to feel was testing my faith on purpose … work itself out.

As I stood in line to sort my ticket and see what my next move was going to be, the auditorally and vociferously talented desk attendant announced… though not quite so vociferously… that  a new driver was found and that schedule 1683 would roll out, but just a little later. We ended up leaving about an hour late, which wasn’t an issue for me, since I had no connections to make in St. Louis.  I missed dinner with my friend Paul Evans, who had told me about the reading, but I was still there in plenty of time to listen to and meet Gerald Nicosia.

As we were rolling out of Indy, a hawk swooped down and followed us for about 10 clicks before catching the wind away. And like every other time I see a hawk, I knew the trip was probably going to be ok. Currents are bumpy, but they do keep going.

And as I sit here in Milwaukee, a the Fuel Café on Center Street, I think I’ll close out with a quote from Rumi, which will serve as a segue to Part 2 of this story on the next episode: “… don’t move the way fear makes you move.”

Thanks so much for listening to Episode 12 of a Record of a Pair of Well Worn Traveling boots.  Please be sure to show some love by subscribing to this podcast on ITunes, Spotify, or whatever podcatcher you use. Check out the past episodes and look for Visions of Gerald, Part 2 in two weeks. If you really enjoy the podcast, please consider becoming a patron on our Patreon Page: www.patreon.com/wellwornboots. It’s only $5  a month and it means you’ll get a little extra for your patronage.

Thanks again for listening. May the road ever rise to meet your feet.