5 October 2007 – Deerfield, Illinois
…oh yeah, to reach there…
We were back in an old haunt. We rolled into Chicago’s Union Station only 90 minutes late, then headed north on the Metra to Northbrook station, where we were met by our next host, Doug. As we drove through Northbrook, to his home where we would be staying the next two nights, I was struck with waves of nostalgia. I’d live in the Chicago area in the early 80s, before moving ever northward to Waukegan, and then to Kenosha, before flying south for twenty winters in North Carolina. City names and street signs sparked my feeble memory, and there was something that felt like home.
That evening I flew solo, dining with our hosts and screening organizers while Sally dealt with a touch of Amtrak flu. By the next morning she was better, and we spent the day doing yoga, reading, catching up on email, and taking a long walk around the neighborhood. Todd, who had lived and died in the nearby almost-suburb of Spackle Grove, was now in his new haunts, and spent the day visiting some of his favorite spots, and stopping in to sticky a few old friends. He probably caused quite a stir.
At six we headed over to the North Shore Unitarian Church, where our screening would be. There, generous and competent people were setting up the projection and sound system and putting out coffee and wine and cheese and crackers and other snacks. It was a beautiful venue, with very good sound and picture, and about thirty-five people arrived to watch the doc.
Our new friend John showed up, with his friend Anne. John is that very talented and extremely clued-in musician I mentioned in a blog a while back. We’d met over email a month ago. I was really great to meet him in person, to shake his hand and thank him for his music and wish him well. There’s a strangeness for me in meeting people these days, knowing what’s coming, seeing what I see. How will John and Anne fare in Chicago as things play out? How will we? At what point will we lose touch with those we have come to know? You never really know when you’re saying goodbye to someone. It has always been that way, I suppose. But now, it’s all much more clear.
Over two-thirds of the audience stayed for the dialogue afterwards, a moving and heartfelt sharing of reactions to the movie. What a Way to Go never fails to evoke a variety of responses, as we seek to process the fear and sadness and anger that arise when we look directly at the situation, and as we look for some way to respond. Do we move into action? Or do we spend more time in feeling and sharing? Do we fight or flee? The predicament is so confronting that we find ourselves at a loss about how to be and what to do. And we just sit with that, and try to normalize it, and make room for it, because it is what’s so.
We spoke of fear and blame and hope and hopelessness. We spoke of action and of despair. Two of us, middle-aged white American men (I was one!) spoke of being moved to tears when we hear The Colors of the Wind from Pocahontas, when we are moved to consider what has been lost to us in our culture, and what has been lost in the world. You don’t get that just anywhere. And that is what makes these circles both sacred and healing. We were so glad to have visited there, to have meet those good people and to have heard a piece of their story. We wish them well.
The next morning has come, and we’re off to Spokane. We’re taking to the sky for this next leg of the journey. A quicker hop, and easier on our bodies (maybe) than the Empire Builder that took us there two years ago. The travel time from West Virginia to Northbrook added up to 22 hours, door to door. Not a long time by historical standards, to be sure, but long enough.
That’s something I’m exploring as we journey through this tour. How much of my attention is on the goals, the stops, on the “there’s†I am reaching, and how can I find my way into the moments along the way, the journey itself, the now… the now… the now? Too often I lose track of those nows, relating only to the “reaching thereâ€, and judging myself and my time only in terms of whether I’ve made it there already or not. And I find that this no longer works for me. The old “there’s†I was reaching for are gone. Most of the new “there’s†that have taken their place look like places I do not want to go. And so I must find my life on the path, on the road, in the now, taking my time now.
If I live now… truly live… then I need not be afraid to die.
On to Spokane, ya’ll. Todd’s back, ready to go. He says that while he was out he rigged ATM machines all around Chicagoland to randomly spew out $200 in cash. That’ll be a bit of fun. I hope he doesn’t get us into trouble…
Tim
October 9th, 2007 at 9:50 am
Tim,
As ever, you strike a chord. This weekend in Charlottesville Jill and I heard Derrick Jensen and Ward Churchill speak to the myth of this culture from the time of Columbus forward, of how we teach our children - and theirs, after stealing them from their families - that the Great While Father means only well, so long as all of us will submit to the system and spend our lives turning the living into the dead so that those at the top may profit. While there, we met again with our friends at the nearby community, seeking to learn from among those who are clued in whether or not this may be the place for us to land and stake out life amidst the collapse. While scurrying from one place to another, heading for another “there”, as you say, we were waylaid by Jeff, who called our attention to two snapping turtles mating in the pond. It was a wondrous sight, as Jeff is a wondrous soul. But of course, rather than finding our way into that moment, fully experiencing that now, watching the mating dance and conversing deeply with Jeff, we but dipped our toes into that meaningful pond, and hurried off to our next place, leaving another “now” unexperienced. Ever shall it be?
October 11th, 2007 at 8:13 am
Tim!
It was great meeting you guys! I’m hoping that your tour will elicit some sort of buzz for the movie…it really deserves a much wider audience. As I have mentioned before, the comprehensive nature of the bases you are covering make it a much more meaningful piece of work overall then a lot of the documentaries that focus soley on Peak Oil or Global Warming or the Federal Reserve system, etc.
How will we fair? Hard to say. I’ve always preferred the notion of an interesting life as opposed to merely a long one. Guess I’ve gotten my wish so far. When I’m not recording, I have been really honing my survival skills, learing how to find potable water, build shelters…and learning what parts of nature (plant life mostly, being a vegetarian and all) I can eat if/when I end up homeless if/when things get all Mad Max out there. Planning on doing some serious survival camping next spring to see if I can live off of pine nuts, cattails, and purslane for any length of time.
I was getting worried that the Big Crash was mere weeks away for a while there, but I think the recent manuverings of the Fed have insured that the economic bubble will billow for another year or so. I figured the trigger point would be the subprime debt load…but we’ll see if the bandaid stops the hemmorage. Everytime they do something like this, it just insures that the pain will be that much greater when the bottom falls out. (It’s a good time to buy metals and energy stocks…though in the long run you can’t eat gold…)
I am constantly amazed at how the will-to-believe keeps the global economy running.
I’m probably going to cobble together some sort of review for the movie in the next week or so…having seen it again (and in a public forum) gives me more ideas.
October 13th, 2007 at 4:02 am
Thanks, John. Great meeting you too. I like your notion of an interesting life. It can’t get much more interesting than this, can it? It may be that you’re right about the recent Fed-fix. Sigh. I’m doing my best to destroy that will to believe, but there’s a lot of it out there!
I look forward to your new recordings, sir. Let me know when they’re done so I can buy a copy. And let me know if you write something about the movie. Cool!
Take care, John,
Tim