InspirationU Blog

I woke up early and restless, and was going out to take a walk before the temperature reached into the triple digits Fahrenheit. Jim joined me in the driveway of the cottage, and suddenly turned to me, whispering, “Hear that? Its javelina grunts!” Squatting down to look into the next door underbrush, there they were: a whole family group. Most of the javelinas wandered off to find their shady spot for the day, but two larger ones stayed behind, and were rather agitated about something. Finally, the source of their protective agitation became clear:

A large mama was turning circles in the underbrush, with four babies crying their little husky cries and flailing around underfoot. Another smaller javelina (maybe an immature auntie or older sister?) was near, but less concerned looking. Mama circled and circled, and snout sniffing the air, searched for a place to settle down. Finding none, she eventually and cautiously wandered onto the street and into the more wild brush.

The babies were not happy at all with her actions. They were looking for mama food, and kept trying to get close enough to the restless mama to catch some milk. Jim and I crouched silently nearby, trying very hard not to disturb the already disturbed mommy, but it was no use—mamma was not happy where she was for some reason. All her agitated movements stirred up the little ones, and there were a few times when one or the other baby would get under foot enough to be stepped on.

When the babies followed her onto the street, I then saw how frail these little babes were: They had just been born recently, because they all still had umbilical cords attached! I held my breath, hearing the babies cry plaintively as they were almost trampled by mom. I sighed a sigh of relief when they finally moved to a shady territory for perhaps a mid-day rest and feeding.

Being a mom myself, I understand the incredible protective instincts that take over one’s life when a newborn or young one is in one’s life. Even now, though my babies are 20 and 18 y.o., I still feel a sort of fierce protectiveness towards them, and care about their eventual true “launch’ into the wider world. Perhaps you’ve noted this in my notes about Eron’s journey: I will do everything in my power to make sure he is attended to, while still allowing him to learn whatever lessons are here for him to learn. I do not want to be considered a “smothering mother”, so a certain amount of letting go and letting the God within Eron take the reigns is my aspiration and desire. Hopefully, I am achieving this. But the challenge to not “take over” is overwhelming at times.

I am also thinking about some other “babies” in my life in the form of projects and creations where the fine line between nurturing and smothering was so thin: This morning I wonder: how many of my creations have I actually allowed to breathe, to grow, to mature to their full potentials? And how many have I actually smothered or trampled before their blossoming because of my agitation, my fears, my wanting to stay in control?

While walking in this morning’s humid, post-rainstorm air, I broke down into tears again. All I could see was a clean slate in front of me. Nothing is written on it, and there’s only a whisper of a hint as to what I might want to write. Something is waiting to be born, and I don’t want to cut it off before its time. When my new life’s creation is born, my desire is to nurture it lightly, allowing it to grow and evolve.

Last night I had a hint about this in the form of a painting I was attracted to in a local art gallery: The piece was called ‘Journey” and it was painted by a local Navaho artist. Four spirit-filled humans were journeying to a healing ceremony to restore “hózhó”, or harmony, to a situation or a person. The healing ceremonies can take up to nine days to enact, which speaks to me of the care it takes to make sure all unfolds in its time. Anyway, right now, a brief but concise sentence appears on the clean slate: “I take people on a journey of discovery and healing” What a coincidence–that was also the original theme of this magical road trip journey!

My prayer this morning is for all creators to allow their creations to come forth with grace and appropriate nurturing, allowing the precious offspring to grow to their full potential. This includes the javelina mamma and her newborns: Rest well today, Mamma J!

Aho! (Hopi for “It is so”.)

Elke

Yesterday, since the day had the luxury of no appointments to it, we drove up to a breakfast restaurant in uptown Sedona on our way to finding a creek side place to “baptize” Jim. More on the baptism later, but first let me tell you about our breakfast…

Here in Sedona, just about everywhere you look are incredible rock formations. One goes grocery shopping, one gets stuck in road construction traffic, one is taking a morning walk, one is doing anything and one sees rock formations. If one is paying attention, as the First Nation People did so many years ago, one sees personalities, epic stories, and mystical beings called Kachinas in the rocks. These days, the modern locals have re-named all the rocks with modern labels: Bell Rock, Cathedral Rock, Gun site Rock, Coffee Pot Rock, and Courthouse Rock (pics: http://wildsedona.com/area/landmarks.htm).

And then there is Snoopy Rock, which we had a terrific view of while on the deck of our breakfast spot. While sipping coffee and enjoying the incredible likeness of the Peanuts cartoon Snoopy lying on his back, as if taking a nap, Jim’s eyes traveled to a nearby rock formation to the left of Snoopy. Larger and more pronounced, this formation also looked like a familiar figure lying down on his back. “Look!” exclaimed my observant mate, “It’s Bill Clinton!” And sure enough, there was ol’ Bill, long face to the sky, potato shaped nose, feet stuck up like Snoopy’s. Not being satisfied, though, with this simple image, Jim also observed: “and he has an erection!” Gales of laughter ensued, and now the other diners on the deck were trying to overhear the raucous conversation.

Not one to be outdone when it came to imagery, I actually saw something else: The, *ahem*, “formation” sticking out of Bill’s topside looked exactly like Hillary. Yup, coifed hair and all, it was if she was emerging out of Bill’s belly button. OK, ok, so you can make all the political analysis you wish now…go for it.

All the laughing and carrying on attracted enough attention for Jim to inform the nearby couple of our discoveries. Being an ex-fashion designer and her husband from LA, the land of image making, they recognized this right off. Even the manager of the restaurant has a whole new landmark to point out to his customers, for which both Jim and I are quite proud.

With big goofy grins on our faces, we proceeded up Oak Creek canyon. An oasis in the desert, the Canyon shows off the power of flowing water over time. The highway winds through the carved canyons, many layers deep, creating the sensation of seeing eternity in one sweeping glance.

We stopped at a small parking lot to see if there were trails there to walk, and took in the view. Two young Navaho gals parked nearby, selling their handmade jewelry to the sightseeing tourists. An elder woman greeted us with deeply lined face, stringy yellowed hair, and wearing hiking boots a few sizes too large for her: “Hello to folks from Washington! And did you know that Nostradamus predicted the correction of the mistake 3 million years ago, and I live in the trailer park and I want go to Safeway or Seaway or whichever, and can you help me out, do you have water, or a candy bar, and the casualty of the recipe was so unnerving, so I said to the guy….” I’m sure you can fill in the rest, right? Ok, maybe not, but you get the drift of her drifting pleas….I loaded her up with granola bars, tucked some bills in her hands. Jim offered the snacks in our backpack and a bottle of water. We all looked at each other, and I murmured “We are going the other way, sister”…and she wandered off to find someone else to talk to.

Driving a mile up the highway, we found our spot, with a secluded trail along the river leading to a large swimming rock, guarded by a huge sycamore tree. The tree had five “fingers” reaching up to the sky, and in its “palm” was a rock the size of a chair seat. I said to Jim, “Here is your throne, dear! You need to sit on it after your baptism!”

Jim’s daily healing sessions with Luc were over as of this day, and we wanted to celebrate the new vigorous and healthy body he was sporting. We both wandered into the cold water, and then dried and meditated on the rock for a spell. Jim dove back into the water, and as I watched him play, splash, roll over and over and swim, he reminded me more of a porpoise than a crab (he is a Cancer) or even a man. The effect was very joyful. He then sat in the palm of the sycamore and meditated and anchored in the new energy.

As we came back up the trail, he was a little disoriented, as if life was new, and he didn’t remember the short trail we had just walked on. Watching him carefully, I saw what looked like the signs of a seizure coming on. Yet, rather than being scared or disappointed, I also saw how present he was with his surroundings, and I surrendered to the new look for my dear husband. I surrendered to seeing him healthy but not in the way I wanted him to be, i.e. seizure free. Electrical discharges from the sky, with resonating thunderclaps following thereafter, chased us home.

We came back to the cabin, exhausted yet refreshed, and with new perspectives on how we see life. This morning, as I write this, I ‘ve been feeling some of the old fears, and a few new ones, creep in: 2 phone messages on my cell phone were about my son Eron’s pending court case, and something about a six thousand dollar price tag to represent him in court, and then Jim has had another seizure experince …

*sigh*

The future still looks like an unnamed canyon with no certain images in it: no Snoopy rock, or any cathedrals either. More like an open sky and an unending desert. Work life, community, Jim’s health, Eron’s saga…all is up for grabs, with no ready answers available.

Hmm, in the distance, I see something coming towards me: I wonder: could it be my future? Could it be the answers to all of the above situations? Could it be me?

Maybe it’s Charlie Brown, wandering the desert with “Oh good grief!” written on his innocent face.

I’ll keep you posted on any new sightings.

We are still in our small cottage in Sedona; herds of javelina run wild at night (see http://www.azgfd.gov/w_c/urban_javelina.shtml) and they are noisy as all get out when they are trying to make their way through a garden area, or down the many wheelchair ramps built here for our hostess’s mother. I am intrigued enough to want to view the nighttime visitors, although the dark has as yet prevented that.

My Jim, on the other hand, is Mr. Desert-animal-sighting guy; He’s seen javelina, his new totem seems to be the road runner since he’s seen them a few times—he’s even seen the road runner and the coyote in one day (beep-beep!).

The vocalizations of the desert creatures are so haunting: howling coyote, grunting heavy footed javelinas, plaintive quail dads, and the weirdest, most eerie audio chorus of the night: The spadefoot toad. To quote the official New Mexico site: “The sound made by Spadefoots sounds like a fingernail running along the teeth of a comb.” Well, actually it’s more like a young child crying after having a temper tantrum, or a cat in heat, or the plaintive pleading when life is going all wrong: “whyyyyyyyyyyyy?” and then there’s this feature: “Some say they give off an odor of peanuts when they are handled.” This is something I haven’t experienced yet though….

Many thanks for your intoned prayers for our child Eron and his continued saga. I feel calmer today; talks with lawyers who are working on lessening the charges to speeding tickets or having them dropped all together helps. Yet I also feel the situation is surrounded by positive prayer for healing all around. Thanks again.

My dear James has experienced four appointments with the healer so far, and the combination of the treatments, the desert air, and the quiet vibe here has helped immensely: seizures are very few and far between. His mostly irregular heart beat actually jumps into a steadier beat now and then, and he is officially “winning’ the unofficial race up a hill when we go for walks: very different from our walks as of late where he has to slowly warm up in order to go uphill, and I run up and down the hill waiting for him. Nope, not anymore: he bounds across arroyos (dry riverbeds); climbs red rocks, and generally is as peppy as the speedy roadrunner. I am so grateful for this incredible improvement in his health.

Today I was pondering the power of the stories we tell ourselves in life, and have had the chance to more deeply examine some of mine: On this trip called life and work, I have always felt that my story included allowing success to come to me only in limited ways, for instance: I don’t want my ego to get too inflated by sucess, that’s not very spiritual; I want to be authentic; and so on.

And then there is: I can only go so far in my work because I do not have the right degrees, or I have limited abilities, or am not good enough or deserving enough or…. It’s true, sadly enough. The story of only allowing so much abundance or success is supported by another strange story of mine: Just when I am ‘at the top of my game”, or feeling “successful” or the project I am involved in is about to breakthrough to another level, “something happens”. And that something seems to always be disastrous, explosive, destructive: People I love get sick and I have to stop what I am doing to attend to them, or I get sick and have to stop, or the people surrounding me go crazy, get arrested, die, get mad and run away, lie to me, steal the money and run…. Plus, there is other more indescribable mayhem that ensues after the “something happens”, because I get scared, and admittedly give up. This story of mine reminds me of the movie Mr. Holland’s Opus, with Richard Dreyfus as a high school music teacher. For most of his professional life time, he works on his opus while raising a family, instructing petulant and troublesome, and sometimes gifted teenagers…. The opus takes a long, long time to finish, because life keeps “getting in the way”. Good story.

This morning Jim and I were invited to a workshop of healing through the playing of crystal singing bowls and didgeridoo. Two male instructors, both passionate about their work and very open hearted, gave us the main formula for the morning: “Frequency + intent = healing.” I leapt in with a focused intention, figuring “why not?” My intentional statement for the musical healing was: “I bring my inspirational work to the world in freedom, and fully supported in all ways.” Wow.

As the music swept over me, I felt the stories of the past literally drop away. A new alignment in my body and soul took hold and I felt a quiet freedom I have not felt in many, many years. A new story began in the singing and hum of the bowls and didgeridoo, and the accompanying voices of the rest of the class. I saw myself at forty years in the future: a 92 year old—wise, wild white hair flying free, smiling and giggling and carrying on in a most outrageously inspirational mode.

I can not wait to see how THAT story unfolds, and what it will sound and look like.

What story are you willing to adopt? Whiney ones like those little ol’ toads? Crystal clear ones like Tibetan singing bowls? Or will you make up your own song?

Come on, hum it with me now: “Amazing grace, how sweet the sound….”

I bring my inspirational work to the world in freedom, and fully supported in all ways. Wow. Elke Siller Macartney

From a guest house near Jack’s Canyon, Sedona:

Male quail call fervently to each other, claiming their space in the desert. I too want to claim a space for awhile, to write and reflect and anchor in the words that seem to have filled up every nook and cranny of my being. Yet there are still life issues to attend to, and I ask for your prayers again, if I may:

First, the good news: Jim’s request for a healer to work with him and his heart impairments and temporal lobe issues has been incredibly answered in the form of medical intuitive, osteopath Luc Chabot. He will be working intensively with Jim every day for the next week, until he takes off for a trip. Usually overbooked with people from around the world, he miraculously had time this week to see Jim because he has a visitor in his house, and cleared the decks to be with the visitor. Plus, there was something about Jim that he decided to work with him. Frankly, there was some sticker shock to learn of the money we will have to pay for this. Yet, how much money is spent on medical treatments that do not work? Jim is worth the investment.

I was witness to one of the sessions yesterday, and as Luc worked on Jim’s spine, head and into the heart area, Jim’s aura cleared and brightened. What a treasure Luc is. I will post more about him later when we complete the rigorous healing schedule of about two hours a day.

Personally, I desired space and quiet to write, and managed to create three offers for houses to use. We have landed in the guest cottage of Sarah Smith, local artist and acupuncturist, because of a conversation we had with her while visiting her studio. She mentioned, only briefly, that she and her mom lived in the guest cottage before moving into the house…. I pounced on the word, and asked if it was for rent. And the answer was yes, and here we are: surrounded by a meditation garden, pine, blazing orange and rose canyon land, javelina (look it up, they are weird and interesting!) and those calling quail. I am trying to free my mind to write in my book, but I have to admit, my mind is burdened at the moment by some news received yesterday on the way to the cottage:

It seems that son Eron’s girlfriend received a letter stating that her boyfriend was to be arraigned for 2 counts of reckless driving and endangerment on July 8th. I am disheartened by this news, because I feel, and Kristin’s family feels, that the March 2 accident was just that: an accident. Since March 2, there has been no calls, no interviews, and no communication whatsoever from anyone at the state or local level, even though we have made several attempts to find out the procedures for investigating such an accident. The only communication has been from Kristin’s mom, and from an interesting story of a prosecuting attorney/professor at the local community college bringing up a case before her class involving a 17 YO without any criminal record, good student,. involved in a nasty wreck with an injured girlfriend and what would the class do about this? I was mortified to hear that at least 3/4’s of the class knew who it was—we live in a very small county.

So this news came like a sock to the gut. Meanwhile, Eron is on a fishing boat in Alaska oblivious to all of this drama…

However: Kristin’s mom called back to say that a lawyer they are working with is the ex-PA, and fully believes this was handled poorly, and that there is no case. He is going to press for the case to be dropped.

Prayer request: Eron and Kristin and their families desire to move on in their lives. Eron has more than atoned for the accident, and deserves to work on forgiveness and healing. Kristin and her family wish only for this to be dropped so Kristin can move on with her continued miraculous healing. Please pray for quick resolution and the dropping of all charges.

Sitting here listening to the quail daddies, I feel a sustaining presence calling to me, to Eron, to Kristin and family, and to you: “All is well.” I affirm this truth.

Thanks for you presence in the world. Have I told you how much that presence comforts and cheers me?

Blessings,

Elke

“Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose….”

Bob Dylan wrote those words, Janis Joplin sang ‘em, and I am feeling the call ….

Last night , after a day of red rock activation and exploring, and home made margaritas we took to the nearby red viewpoint at sunset, hostess Carla Riedel read from a collection of her poems.

I responded with more tears shed than ever before—some because of the beauty of the words and her incredible interpretation, but mostly, the poems touched a deep, almost-lost place inside me: The desire to be free to create.

I don’t actually remember the last time I felt that sort of freedom. When I was seven years old, I set up a “poetry stand” instead of a lemonade stand. I wrote rhymes of four lines or eight, charging 10 cents and 25 cents respectively because coming up with eight lines that rhymed was harder to do, and worth the price. J

I had a brisk business, with calls for birthday poems, inspired poems for the moment, and the greatest challenge: rhyming the words “walking encyclopedia” in describing an elder mentor of mine. I don’t remember what I used to rhyme with “encyclopedia”, but what I do remember is how much fun I had, and the freedom I felt to express myself through words. I continued to write hundreds of poems long into teenager-hood, and then embarked on short stories and other wordier professions. But the feeling of freedom to express has long since been quieted with my responsibilities to family and work over the years. Last night the yearning to bring my expression out emerged big time.

So: a new commitment made for the duration of this journey: I am creating a place to stay in the Prescott/Sedona area where Jim and I can relax, write and just be. I am creating a place where I feel a freedom of no scheduling, no visiting unless desired, lots of safe walking space, and a place to tune into my Energy Soup book, and see what the Kitchen Sage has to say about my future and yours.

The information is right (and write) here on the edge of my consciousness, ready to pour through, so I have to let it pour.

Today, there will be visits to some artists’ studios for inspiration and preparation. Tomorrow, I’ll dedicate to gifting aura portraits to our gracious hosts, and then we’ll take off….

I will take off: flying onto The Unknown again, but now prepared to dive into the embrace of my Creative Self. She has a lot to share with the world, and no time like the present to do so.

Look into your own hearts, folks. What is it you have to share with your community, your family, your world? What is holding you back from doing so? I’ll let you know my answers to those questions in future posts, I promise.

Signing off with nothing to lose,

Elke

Blessed solstice!

In the waning light of a magnificent sunset, we arrived in the Sedona area to bask in the unique energy of red, red rock formations and the loving energy of our friends Carla and Rick. Though it was in time for dinner, Rick nevertheless wanted to walk us to a nearby viewpoint of Castle Rock, and Cathedral rock. Wife Carla warned, “Now honey, don’t be too long, dinner is almost ready” and when we took in the sight of this outdoor temple, I understood the stern, motherly request: One can get swept away by the magnificence of the view, and not come home to dinner for a long, long time.

But we minded Carla’s request and wandered back into the healing embrace of their gentle home. Rick is an astrologer, and Carla also speaks fluent astrology, so the very first thing noted was the composition of the table: Three Pisces (yea for the fish!) and Jim the lone Cancer….all water signs. It seemed a fitting balance to the fiery red and dry desert atmosphere, yet I was personally aware of my Aries moon—the moon being hooked into the emotional body, and Aries apparently a fire sign—and felt an upwelling of heated emotions. In short: I didn’t know how exhausted I was from months of stressful upheaval. Then there was the stress of driving with no destination, contemplating options, being presented with challenging lessons.
I was tired from the stress of having the unknown become a constant companion. I broke down into some cleansing tears.

This morning, sitting in the cool quiet of their lovely home, I understand and have so much compassion for those who are facing life-changing challenges in their lives. Once the initial challenge is over—the tsunami, the flood, the fire, the accident, the job change, the diagnosis of an illness, etc.—there arrives that crazy companion called The Unknown. Questions emerge: “Now what?” How will I survive? What do I do? Who am I now?”
These are all questions I’ve asked over the last few months. So far, the answers have been a bit too subtle for my comfort, except for the answer to “What do I do?”
The answer was: “Take a road trip.”

Though there is discomfort in the misty territory of The Unknown, I admittedly love to venture here. Though my mind feels stressed, my heart has not felt so open as right here, right now.

My commitment: As I venture into the heated day exploring the heated rocky land, I will honor the new territory I am in. I will do my best not to decide too much too soon. I will do my best to be present, and to just be.

Sending you red bliss,
Elke

Hello from a lovely, cool-in-the-shade deck in Manzanita Village, Prescott AZ, overlooking the incredible Thumb Butte, desert mountains and blue sky galore.

So I am smitten with this place, much to my surprise. We found THE best coffee shops to dink and think in, and some of the yummier restaurants.

Jim and I had dinner last night with the villagers of this co-housing community, and I liked the sense of intention and spirit here. Long conversations into the night with an ex-priest and ex-nun, now married with lots of grandkids between em, and invitations to a drumming circle/ jam kind of sold the deal as far as pondering our possible move here. It is not a perfect set up, and the villagers have had their moments of conflit, yet the intention to converse and work things out is refreshing. We also viewed a house that is not for sale yet, but will be in the near future. It has the best sunset views…*sigh*

And yet there is still so much more to sort out, home wise and work wise and family wise. Plus, my intuition says that there is still much to explore, so explore we will when we travel to Sedona later today for some much needed perspective, and to catch the red rock vibe.

After that, spirit will guide where we go next…. but this place, and the town and the potential is so rich. As I say, I am smitten.

Spirit is telling me to stay open to all possibilities. Yes. It’s an interesting way to go, because structure and focus is so much easier to wrangle. When we had a focus to visit Prescott, it was a helpful way to use a map to plot our journey to a destination. But now that we are here, yet will travel on, the focus is both more sharply in focus and a bit fuzzy. Go figure. (Or not!  )

The stars were beautiful in the Full moon sky last night. Perhaps the alignment thereof will send us to our next adventure.

By the way, in frustration from spotty internet coverage, I went and bought a wireless mobile router for my computer. So email coverage will be more certain, unless we are in no-man’s land with no electricity…which might happen. Stay in touch anyway.
My love goes with you, wherever we are.

Elke

This is our third day in Prescott, having arrived on Monday late afternoon after a hot and dusty desert drive.

From the time I set eyes on the beautiful rock formations, to this very moment sitting in the common house of the village we are investigating, it’s been a very welcoming place:

We drove up the small parking lot of the 12 acre Manzanita village, and were welcomed by two guys in sun hats as if we were old friends on a visit. As I’ve mentioned, Co-housing is concept Jim and I had researched and even checked out twenty odd years ago, but never found the right niche at the time. After LaConner became our village of choice, we had no need to move anywhere else, so we landed and raised our “chicks”.

Now, however, there is a hankering for a different kind of community, and co-housing seems like the right blend of privacy and community. Shared tools, consensus on issues that are important, light “footprint” on the land and shared values are all attractive options. And then there are the people: so far, they are lovely, warm and generous with their information, as well as allowing us to be in the village, staying in the guest room in their common house, inviting us to community dinners, and generally giving us the lay of the land.

The other welcome for me personally, but perhaps Jim as well, was small Prescott College, with self-directed degree programs, an environmental focus, and a new job opening as a counselor for the graduate degree programs and the adult learning degrees….hmmmm….

So yesterday I was invited to have a conversation with the dean of admissions and the new director of adult and graduate degrees. They were looking for a creative mind, blend of marketing and counseling experience, someone who is behind the concept of self-driven education…yup that’s me. We’ll see where it goes, but I was told that this position was being created for someone “like me”, which was intriguing. Nice people too. The only catch was the possibility of a low salary, which would make it a challenge to live anywhere, but if the energies are aligned, perhaps I can also continue to do my work part time. The job has not been posted yet, so this is still only in the range of possbility. Yet my imagination is tweaked.

Ah choices….

There are other considerations in all of this of course: we have a house in LaConner, our kids and our family is mostly based in the Northwest, and, and, and….
And then there is the desert itself. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever envision myself living in this environment–beautiful, but well, you know how much water I am used to. This Pisces was given a tour of local lakes today, which helped, but it has not been my first choice in environmental elements, to tell the truth.

Yet, the welcome was lovely, Prescott is the friendliest community, and we’re located a mile from downtown with restaurants and coffee shops…. Hmmm…

So, once again, prayer for clarity would be great. There is a whole lot to sort out. But I so appreciate the welcome…anywhere. And when that welcome is by people with similar values and consciousness, well that is pretty tempting to consider. Maybe I’ll go meditate on all of this as I take in the view of Thumb Butte, a local landmark.

We’ll likely stay until Friday and then maybe head over to Sedona, so insights are welcome.
Meanwhile, love to you all, and thanks again for your enthusiastic support of our journey.

Blessings always and in all ways,
Elke

Road trip, reporting from the Mohave Desert…

I was going to post on the beautiful “Spine of the Sierras” we drove through on highway 395, and Mono Lake and its natural salt sculpture (just Google it, it’s in California).

But instead I’ll say: the car broke down in the middle of the desert yesterday. Yep. My worst fear comes true.

Now, these are the days of AAA and cell phones, so the story has a good ending, mind you, but the “hoo-boy, now what?” happened, and it’s my reactions that were telling.

Carol King was singing “Love makes the world go round and round” on my iPod, Jim was sleeping, and I was sad that we had left the beautiful mountains for a rather bleak landscape. I thought, “well this is part of the earth and life too, right?”

Then, the accelerator went all the way down to the floor, and I could no longer use it, and I said “Oh no!” and pulled over to the side of the dusty, hot-windy road. Inadvertently, I also turned off the car somehow, not knowing the Mercedes very well yet, and there we were. Jim looking at me with “Ok what happened “, and me in utter, shaky panic.

After trying to start the car a few times, Jim muttered something about a timing belt, which sounds bad, and went to check under the hood.

I called triple A, and gave coordinates in the bleak landscape.

Breakdowns are hard anywhere, but when they happen in unknown territory, in an old car…yikes. I, being an occasional member of the human race, thought the worst: this was the end of the road trip. The car will not make it any further. Ohmigod…..

What ACTUALLY happened was this: By the time a tow truck was called, three cars had stopped to help out: 2 batty little ladies who talked Jim’s ear off about the scenery and something about solar panels, a guy in a big pick up who wandered over, and help Jim sort out the actual problem, and a huge semi, with a concerned looking couple inside.

So, it actually was a good thing to be a member of the human race. And the problem was fixable, literally with some wire Jim had left over from jury rigging a cup holder in Pearl (Germans must not drink coffee on the autobahn). The problem was a small cap or something that held the accelerator cable on snapped off. And the car not starting problem? Well I am embarrassed to admit that in my panic, I had accomplished two things: knocking off a small plug-in anti theft thing near my knee, and not having the car in PARK.

Ahem.

We called off the tow truck.

Going to Prescott AZ today, but meanwhile, I am marveling at how quickly things breakdown in unknown situations. And how rapidly I think the worst…not a good way to go when one wants solutions.

But I am still glad to be human.

Hello!

We’ve climbed a number of mountain passes over 5000 feet (1500 meters) up to 8000 feet (2400+meters)—well; actually Pearl 190 has climbed those passes as we traveled some 700+ miles since I last posted our whereabouts….. I am reporting from the comfortable living room of an old friend, Scott Miners, publisher of the Well Being Journal www.wellbeingjournal.com and one of the first people I met in Seattle 24 years ago. I am still basking in the glow of conversation with him and his loving wife Martha, and another couple…spiritual people all. We are in Carson City, Nevada, the very last place I thought I would see Scott since I last saw him in the drizzly shadow of the Washington Cascade foothills. Jim and I are here because of so many synchronicities, to whit:

*The night before, we had dinner in the small town of Quincy California, and were delighted to find an internet café. After downloading so many of your heartfelt and inspiring messages and tips, I lit upon one from another old friend of mine. She recommended that we call on a lovely gentleman named Scott Miners in Reno. (Thanks Maria!) I loved the idea, as I had lost touch with Scott and Martha years ago,

I called the number she gave me, but it was a business number for Well Being Journal, and this was Friday night, so I knew this might go nowhere…. But I left a long message anyway, acknowledging our friendship and asking them to call. That particular evening, it was hard to find a room for us, as there were no rooms in Quincy…the short story is, it took us some time to find a room, and we grouchily dropped into bed late. Our original intent was to get a very early start to put some miles in, but alas, tired people like us needed to pack and move a little slower, and maybe swim …so we did not leave the hotel until much later in the day than anticipated.

On the road to Reno, the call from Scott came in while we were still about an hour and a half from his house, instead of many hours past his home. It seems that this wife/business pa