August 6, 2015 9:12 AM
While still in “mud settling” mode—while I await the rebooting of my O/S—I broke camp “on a whim” and left the forest outside Buena Vista to headed eastward on US 24 with the thought of Colorado Springs as a “sometime this week/month/summer” destination. Driving through the crossroad town of Hartsel, CO, I glimpsed a road sign for Cañon City and suddenly felt a “tug.” I pulled over, looked at the map and said, “OK” and detoured southeast. Crossing a stub of national forest, I was “drawn” to another road sign, Black Mountain Road, and ended up at a beautiful, high elevation camp on the edge of a vast golden meadow overlooking a reservoir off in the distance.
Increasingly, my life is lived “spontaneously guided.” Aside from the scheduled phone or Skype call, I tend to just hang around until called to act in response to one of Her whispers. Not an actual voice whisper per se, but a prod, or a sign, or—as is most often the case—a gut feeling: Go. Turn here. Wait.
For example, last Friday afternoon, I was camped at a great forested spot. A beautiful camp right on the north fork of the Arkansas River—a camp up a terribly rough road which limited traffic and provided plenty of privacy. I had planned to stay through the weekend but suddenly these three coeds pulled in—not realizing I was camped there (one of the problems with a van that doesn’t look like a camper). We got to talking and it turns out they were college students from Denver and had come out here to hike a nearby trail the next day and were obviously worried that they were running out of campsite options. Just then I felt Her nudge and She/We/I said, “Well you’re in luck. I’ve been camped here a few days and was just getting ready to head into town. The place is all yours.”
The little me (what I am coming to call, me-the-fleeting) didn’t want to go, but semi-Divine me (me-the-Eternal) absolutely did want to surrender this wonderful camp on a late Friday afternoon when there would be no hope of finding any other campsite in this area (fleeting-me’s well-being isn’t nearly as important as other people’s well-being).
So I drove into Salida and urban camped that night at a strip mall, then the next day, much to my surprise found Randy the Kodger still squatting at a free BLM camp just outside of town. I knew he had been in Salida last month but thought he had moved on long ago.
He has a girlfriend now, Kat, who happens to be a Buddhist, so Kat and I had lots to talk about. About an hour later, a couple of Randy’s fans—Paul and Stephanie—appeared, having come to Colorado delivering an RV from (??? someplace in the midwest). Stephanie had said they had picked this delivery because they knew Randy was in Colorado and wanted to meet him. Further, they had seen the mention of a “slippery guru” in one of Randy’s posts and thought they’d like to meet me also, so it was a complete surprise to them that I “mysteriously appeared” at Randy’s camp on that very afternoon.
Of course none of these “coincidences” would have happened if I hadn’t listened to (and obeyed) Her whisper, “Go,” when those coeds showed up at my camp the day before.
Who can wait quietly while the mud settles? Who can remain still until the moment of action? – Tao Te Ching
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