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I really like not having anything to do, especially after having a lot to do. Author
It was a really big tent—as in 12×14 square feet. Three queen-sized air mattresses could fit in it with room left over. I had only one queen-sized air mattress. Putting up the tent supposedly requires two people. I did it myself and got in a lot of practice cussing. It’s good to keep up with the flaring-up of personality—it can be rather useful if being attacked by vicious marauding whatevers.
It was fine until about 12:30 in the morning when high winds—and I mean high—came roaring to life. The tent was not built for those kinds of roaring winds. Two metal poles just flat broke and the tent started its journey to something other than a tent. Okay, says a me who had already practiced cussing. I calmly moved stuff from the tent-turned-ground cover to the truck. Yeah, it was cold and yeah it was interesting moving things in a roaring wind from the ground to the truck. Somewhere along the line I managed to put a hole in the air mattress. Truck beds need padding to sleep on. I had no repair kit. You get the idea. So did I. The winds continued and I finally decided, or maybe rationalized, that I go camping to thrive, not to survive. Still it took me awhile as I’m a bit stubborn and I looked in many other places in that desert for sufficient shelter from the winds. Nada, nichts, zippo, nothing. Everything was being blown or buffeted about, including my full-sized truck. Even the drive home required lots of attention.
Between extremes is a balance point. But there is no “place” that is not energy. Words are energy, emptiness is energy, winds are clearly energy, cussing is energy. Winds flow from highs to lows and sometimes regaining balance is fraught with energy realignments—as in windstorms, and being ill-prepared.
Hmmm, so much for not writing much. But sometimes releasing is a good way to realign, as in letting go of a desert sojourn that turned into a lot of work. Funny how that sojourn-turned-work led me to a sojourn nonetheless. Openings, openings, openings. How did we ever think of doing anything else?