5 and 7 November, 2007 – Lawrence, Kansas
Guess I’ll take my time…
Once again we’re aligned with the Cat. Uncanny, how that has so often happened. Kansas has been all about taking our time…
Sally scored us a sleeper car upgrade on the train from Albuquerque, our first success in that regard. So we got to be jostled and jerked around in horizontal position, rather than our usual bent and mangled upright poses. Kinda fun, with personalized and smiling service, coffee and juice nearby, a meal thrown in with the ticket, and our very own electrical outlets. At dinner Sally struck up a conversation with an Amish woman who was sitting in the dining car with her baby, drinking a glass of water. After getting to know her a bit and hearing some of her story, Sally asked if her people were talking about climate change. “About what?” she said. “Climate change,” Sally replied. “You know, global warming?” She hadn’t heard a thing about it. That came as a bit of a surprise. Sally resolved, if there are Amish on the train to Chicago, to see if she can get a conversation going with them.
Well, the sleeper car was interesting, but I’m not sure if we’ll ever do an upgrade again. Not sure if the extra cost is worth the benefit. It was nice to get a taste of it, so at the very least we have an idea of what we’d be buying, or what we’re missing.
Wake up call was 5 AM and we rolled into Lawrence just before 6, where our next host and organizer, Terry, was waiting for us with hugs and a ride back to her place. We’d come to Kansas two days early than we’d planned, thinking it would be easier on our bodies to have a stretch of days in one place, and thinking it would be fun to attend the Monday night Lawrence screening, which we hadn’t thought we could make. Terry was warm and welcoming and took us to her place in the county, and to a small guest cottage next to her house. We tossed our bags in but, fully awake, didn’t feel like trying to sleep more at that point, so we headed into Terry’s house to sit by the wood stove and talk and drink her home brew of roots and shrooms and have a breakfast of eggs and toast. Terry was an old acquaintance from online, and it was very great to meet her in person.
At some point we made our way out to the cottage, to rest and sleep and read and sleep. I took a shift on the grass, snoozing in the sun next to Darwin, the dog that lives with Terry and her husband Karl. The afternoon wore on and we wakened and freshened up and made our way into town, there to meet Bill, our other organizer (and another long-time online friend), and Bob, Terry’s friend and fellow mushroom guru. Apparently everyone in Kansas is enthusiastic and knowledgeable about mushrooms and fungi. Either that or we had run into an unrepresentative sample.
It was so great to hang out and have dinner with Terry and Bill, so great to put faces to names and handles, flesh and blood and mind and soul blotting out old imaginings and false assumptions. We talked and laughed and ate and drank some great local beer, then walked next door to the delightful and funky old main street theater where another organizer, Tim, had scheduled a screening of our movie as part of his Films for Action series. Tim apparently has some influence in Lawrence, as 174 people soon arrived to fill the theater and the balcony, come to watch a movie about the end of empire. Tim did his intro, Sally and I did ours, and once again it was time to hit play.
As the original plan was to have the screening Monday night and the discussion/dialogue Wednesday night, there was little for us to do this evening. We did a bit of email, talked to a couple of people that wandered by, and stepped into the theater now and then to see if they were laughing. They were. Soon enough it came to an end and the appreciative audience filed out. Sally and I sold DVDs and shook hands and hugged and spoke with the many good folk who stopped to offer us kind words of support and encouragement. Eventually the crowd thinned and we packed up, said our goodbyes to Bill and made our way back to Terry’s cottage for a good night’s sleep. Taking our time. No need to rise early. So we didn’t.
The next day was spent just resting and hanging out, talking with Terry by her wood stove, asking her questions and hearing her story, how she learned of the world, what she has been doing in the face of it. At some point Bob came by and we took a nice walk in the woods, finding a great many honey mushrooms, learning some identifying traits of various fungi. We came back and had soup and bread, with mushrooms fried in butter on top. Wonderful. Just taking our time. We talked and laughed into the night, joined by Lauren and May, who brought some more great breads to add to the mix. At last, exhausted, we slept again. No need to rise early the next morning. So we didn’t.
Wednesday brought more rest, more time, more slow quiet conversation and more of Terry’s story. It was the sort of day when breakfast lasts until 1 PM, though I think we actually made it to 1:30. At some point we took a long walk down a gravel road, picking up a couple of neighbor dogs as we went. Sally commented that Kansas looked pretty much as she had imagined it would. This was the first time here for both of us. It reminded me of Lower Michigan.
Evening came and we went back into town for dinner, this time to meet Terry’s husband, Karl, who was arriving home from out-of-state, and Bill and Bob. With great food and good people, we laughed and talked and discussed the world, as we so often do, getting as many smart and aware minds on the situation as we can. Eventually it was time to head over to the Ecumenical Christian Ministries for our evening dialogue. We hopped into cars and drove across town.
Thirty people showed up to sit in circle with us, two days after the screening itself. Many of those who attended had not yet seen the film, which was different than most of our previous circles. Sally wasn’t quite sure how to proceed in these new circumstances, but she did what she always does, which is tell the truth and then dive right in, trusting the universe for an inspiration and guidance which rarely eludes her. She asked us to speak of a moment in the film that struck us and stayed with us, to bring the movie back into mind, and to give those who hadn’t seen it a taste of what they’d missed. Then we spoke about the culture: how had it short-changed us, or wounded us? How does Empire rob us of our essential humanity, and what do we want in its stead? We passed the talking stick (a length of cholla cactus skeleton from New Mexico) and shared from our hearts. The circle was lively and animated, as people spoke of their anger, their grief, their loss, their disappointment, and of their power and strength in the face of this culture. There was laughter and loud exclamation, and there was quiet sober reflection. We broke into small groups of threes to share of how we might be, and what we could do in the coming week, to step more fully into our essential selves, then ended with a round of appreciation and honoring. It was a moving and fulfilling experience. I was very glad to have been there.
The circle was closed and people took their time leaving, talking and hugging and connecting as much as they could before stepping out into the night air. Bill collected emails and phone numbers, with plans for further circles. Two of the people who had not seen the doc bought a copy and stuck it into the DVD player right there in the hall. No need to wait. The night wore on and we headed out, taking our tired but happy bodies home for more sleep. No need to rise early the next morning. So we didn’t.
Thursday brought more quiet conversation and another late breakfast, a long walk down to the lake, another evening of food and drink and the sharing of our stories. Chili and bread and chocolate ice cream and smart and lively souls: who could ask for more than that? Not me. Bob and Lauren joined us late by the wood stove, and we spoke a while longer before turning in, the 4:45 AM wake up call already sounding in our imaginations. Pack. Sleep. Awaken. We said goodbye to Terry and Karl drove us into Lawrence to catch the train. We had a day’s travel ahead of us, to get to Chicago and our next screening that night. The pre-dawn sky was gorgeous and alive, and I was alive myself. The train came. It was time to board. So we did.
Four days in one place. Four days. Four nights. Four mornings to lounge and rest and quietly converse. Four days to hang with some really good folk. Taking our time in Lawrence, in the heartland, our penultimate stop, where exhaustion and homesickness mingled with discovery and encounter and relationship, we added more members to an ever-widening circle. As Daniel Quinn says, the Earth is a sacred place, and a sacred process. The Circle is that sacred place and sacred process played out on a human scale. Traveling around the country, weaving a circle of awake and aware souls, crafting a web of folk who have stepped out of denial and into response, we are honored to be a part of that sacred process. Even though none of you have seen the entire circle, we have, and we know that it is there, and that it is a good thing on the Earth.
Our thanks to Terry and Karl, to Bill and Tim, to Bob and Lauren and May, to the good people of Lawrence who attended the screening, and to the thirty souls who joined us in circle Wednesday night. Our best to you as the future unfolds.
One more stop and this particular circle will be complete.
Peace, all,
Tim
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