principles trumps people, and simultaneously people trump principles. simple. and immensely complex. i was fortunate recently to experience a very black and white scenario that led me into a more conscious understanding of this spiraling intersecting conundrum.
here's the b&w situation, in short. friend A made it clear that if i remained public friends (read, facebook) with friend B, that i would lose some to all of my friendship with friend A. i chose principles over people, continuing to be friends with all, even if said friends do not wish to consider me a friend.
of course, this principle over people stance, very much a, "do unto others as you'd have them do unto you" inspired perspective, also has me choosing people first. i chose people over a person. i also knew i was continuing to choose that one person, even if they were not seeing that. thus i was choosing a perspective of universal friendship, maybe because of principles and maybe because i'm a bit of a humanitarian.
so what came first? great cases could be made for principles and people. i'm not clear. the apex or origin points may be either or something entirely different. right about now, i'm quite satisfied not knowing answers to those questions, and only knowing that i chose well.
new topic, new typeface. i write this while officially back on the road, even though we
both know i truly wasn't off the road, even if i was laid up and working. it was time. i left my "home" of six weeks on the first of December.
i received word on November's final warm, rainy day, that Terrible Terry would likely be returning on the first. i received that morning. a song played in my head.
two days prior to that, as Chef Chris chatted to Jeff and I (Jeff was fired within a couple hours of my arrival in Carate. I basically became him, minus the near Spanish fluency.) while preparing his final dishes, he pointed out a lovely, large rainbow in the west, near the Corcovado rainforest. Appointing myself Djay, I played this tune for him, the 2 other gypsy ex-pat's who were done with Osa and Terry for their own reasons and would be boarding the exciting osa collectivo that night evening, and for the rest of us in attendance. the version i played i have stored on my computer.
shortly after awaking on 1-12-11 (for those of you in the Estados Unidos, that equals 12-1-11), i went to plug in my computer and go online. one or a couple Tica's i'd been happily working alongside for days or weeks mournfully informed me of harbinger Terry's imminent arrival. cue "rainbow."
as the satellite internet stream coupled with not enough solar generated power at Lookout-Inn was close to dial-up speed, i merely found a link. i did not listen to or watch the video for "rainbow" then; it would probably take 30 minutes or more to properly buffer the stream for this under 3 minute song. i was communicating a moment, a perspective. a posted video does not necessitate that i've previewed the contents.
between 5:30 to 6 am, in terry's absence, when i and the chef ran the lookout inn very well even with the meager supplies and shoe-string budget provided, i'd often check email while preparing 1 pot of hot water for tea and 2 or 3 or 4 pots of coffee strained through a sock. on my final morning, i did not make the coffee, as the chef's Tica replacement seemed all too happy to provide this service, but i did go online.
i anticipated i'd be heading out that day, even with the 24 hours-in-terry's-presence deadline i'd given myself. turns out, i was correct. it also turns out the link i posted was not a live version, but rather a still picture with the song. not good enough. now that i'm gone from terry, away from that dark side force that makes it so much harder to hold onto beauty and such, i've tried out a couple different links that load and play quickly, i'll share a quality link of that song which has become my road song, my song.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NEJ5ICRN6Uk&feature=related
i had some coffee, then packed the belongings I'd moved into Terry's more deluxe accomodations - i'd been a security presence in his bed for his actively insecure mind. i didn't just put things willy nilly into a bag to be unloaded soon after in my more rustic shack - i packed purposefully, knowing i did not plan to unpack these belongings for awhile.
breakfast. hugs to two departing guests. i think my hug to handshake ratio for departing guests hovered around 80-90%. same with the chef and his wife. these and other beautiful happenings would all change with mr. terrible back in the flesh. the guests even offered me a comfy ride in their rented 4X4. i bet they would have happily taken me all the way to san jose. thanks again, folks, but no thanks. i needed to get paid before departing, and in my line of work, there is no electronic fund transfer after a week or two of providing services.
terry arrived not too much later - he probably passed these supercool American tourists shortly after he embarked on the rocky road out to Carate. we agreed to talk shortly after he settled in. his presence, never fully gone in his absence, now swept like a porous umbrella over his surroundings and more. His aura umbrella, thankfully, did not provide me immunity from December's first rains.
i swept the wet, leaf covered steps - a security task i had implemented in TT's absence, and a service he would probably cease providing now, because he wouldn't see an immediate financial gain from sweeping wet leaves off of slippery walkways and hundreds of almost never dry steps. as i swept, as the clouds and rains that had been present all morning possibly sullied other's people's moods. i sang.
"rainbow," in me, wanted to come out and spread it's colorful rays. acappella, i began softly, and quickly sang in my more true, confident, loud voice. i sang as i often do, substituting "me" for "god." "me" makes so much more sense to me, and not just because it may be the same as god. i also found myself adding a new stanza to its soulful melody.
"i woke up this morning, a rainbow filled the sky
i woke up this morning, a rainbow filled the sky,"
that was all in my mind
i know well everything's alright
i won't speak for anybody whom may have heard me singing for the better part of a half hour. for me, the music was like a Potter Patronus, warding away not just TT's aura, but the boogieman-like idea i had found myself attributing to TT and our impending conversation. no more - i owed him nothing, he owed me, i chose to worry or be afraid of not being paid, or worry or be afraid of the conversation(s) that would be involved with this process, and had no quality reason to do so.
conflict, be it with TT, or friend #1 from the story above, or any similar situation from my past or potential futures, was no longer a reason for me to stress and lose focus of the peaceful and serene and truthful way i work hard to attain. in fact, conflict was now more of a reason to focus on that beauty. looking inward, seeing and singing outward, the rainbow that reached out from my heart to the surrounding area, the wonderful salty air i took back in from the ocean, and my reflective understanding of this confidence and consciousness boosting scenario/metaphor, released me. i smiled. my power (our power?) was at my disposal.
furthermore, sometimes i will stress because i am not reaching the an idealized perfection that i mentally create. i do, often, use said power of mine (ours?) these days to spread beauty and truth and such. fuck man. beauty is more than good enough. indeed, it probably is perfection, with or without fitting into whatever perfect paradigms i come up with. being as beauty and perfection. as Caddyshack Carl would say, "So I've got that going for me, which is nice."
the only revolutionary idea i desired to put into place before leaving Carate were these as such. One, i wanted the Ticos to know that I and other Gringo volunteers were more than just volunteers. Two, i wanted to communicate to my Tico comrades a fuller picture of why i was now leaving.
Number one resolved itself easily. Viva la revolucion! Number two - well, i wrote one letter to my boy Hayner, mostly in English, for him to translate into Spanish on his own time. I also handed out my email address. And i communicated about as well as i am Spanishly capable of now, saying that la camino y no trabajo y no casa es mas bueno a Terry. or: a comparitir Terry. i think i was understood, not sure if i was believed.
one large pack on my back, one smaller bag around my front, and one pair of whorish shoes on my feet. the shoes, a couple days yonder, were the chef's, but he had numerous leave behind's - i think he very much wanted to stay, his wife not so much. Hayner got the shoes and some clothes, while i got a better fitting pair of board shorts and a semi-stained white tee. the lodge got a new litter box.
Hayner's new shoes were quality sandals top to bottom, whereas i had come to possess a Teva's with a quality bottom and Crocs with a quality top. I traded Hayner those two pairs for his one inherited pair, releasing a small load, and both of us benefitting in the process. as things should be.
i was invited to leave in a private taxi - Hayner and his mom, Olga, the three day replacement chef, would be leaving with the only taxi driver i ever saw arrive at the Lookout-Inn, whom also happened to be Olga's husband and Hayner's step-father. Guests were arriving on the taxi, said Terry. Terry's wife was coming on the taxi, said others. Terry asked if i wanted that ride, and i politely turned him down - i wanted no part of negoiating down the typical $70 fee with Terry.
Olga, however, wanted none of my money to ride with them. I planned to give some, regardless, when i planned to ride off with them. Terry reacted with an up-in-arms way an hour or so later when i informed him i planned to ride away in the taxi - he had offered that to me. i politely told him that i was not looking to pay $70 for a taxi and that i had worked out a much better arrangement with Olga. he yah-yah-yah'ed me. ha!
possibly then Terry made a phone call to push the arrival back, possibly not. regardless, as the 4 pm collectivo time drew near, there was no taxi. estimates put its new arrival time at 5:30 or 6 or even later. i decided to take some pictures and say my goodbyes, to some smiles and sadness from Tico's and the one present guest, and to a little heard, paranoid chorus of, "whatcha doing? whatcha need?" from terry. he had shaken my hand earlier. everyone else came in for a hug or hugs.
Addendum.
prior to my panama escapades, i had been doing a lot of writing in Carate. upon returning, not so much. i'd stepped in with a "found" mindset - i was home, let's make it happen, pura vida. after returning, i was in a "looking" mindset - largely craigslist and the caretaker gazette, and also my past and potential futures. this mindset takes a time committment, too. and even when i fully comprehended that and looked to write, it was much more difficult than it had been in those honeymooney first couple weeks. the beauty and peace that i write well from had been tarnished like the spoiled paints and lacquers Terry had me often paint with.
i have nicaragua in my sights. my compass is pointing there. it's also circling around this area, thus i've talked to some locals about potential work and sent out a couple indications of interest. we'll see. possibly tomorrow i catch the one daily bus away from here. possibly the day after. possibly my thumb gets stuck out. possibly neither. either way, i am at home on the road, writing, as you can well see. sounds to me like i've found my calling.
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