Walking Is An Easy Burden

location: Morro Beach, CA
time: jan 24, 2007 5:00am
~~ lba ~~ -prev

Its 5 in the morning. I am sitting on the john in Morro Beach State park. I tried to write last night but I wasn't ready. It wasn't a case of having writers block. It was a case of having not thought enough. Yesterday was heavy day.

The night prior i watched as a homeless man was taken into custody by the police. He was arrested a few 100 metres from where I was camped. Not entirely sure why. There could have been a ligitimate reason. I am not sure. I didn't investigate as I was in the same boat. Perhaps if I was more a radical i would've confronted the situation to find out. I made the descision that it was best if i stayed in my sleeping bag.

I woke up with the pain still in my leg. I thought it might have abated by morning as these things tend to. No such luck. There was the voice of a million Football coaches in my head "Walk it off son, Walk it off." So i did just that. I started walking. looking for breakfast. I found it a little later on. A nice diner down the road called brad's. Tastey stuff. Had the usual. Bacon, eggs, country potatoes, and a hotcake. The hotcake was quite fluffy and elegant. Any diner that can make a good hotcake is the best diner in the Universe.

I asked for some directions to this alternate highway. The PCH turned back into the 101 freeway and I couldn't take that route. So off i went to the Price Canyon. Hobbling all the way. I tried to put on the best none lame act for the cars. So they wouldn't feel bad and stop to give me a ride. The Southern Pacific railway met up with me a little ways up the valley. I slid down the hill so as to get off the highway.

On the tracks I was able to hobble along without much worry for pity. My mind wandered from this "keep up appearances" topic. I drifted past thoughts of suffering, Nirvana, and a rail crew out fixing a broken tie.


An interesting concept really. There are many examples of this all through history. I could write easily write 8,000,000,000 words on the topic. I would never finish this post if I took that route, and you would probably stop reading somewhere near 1,519,666,420, die in the attempt. I would like to streamline here and talk about Artistic suffering as it relates to my life a little more.

There are many examples of Artistic suffering. Many indeed. I feel it is intrinsic to the Art making process. Vincent Van Gogh, is one in particular that i would like to talk about. Not because he is a hero of mine or anything. But because he is popular and almost everyone has heard his name at some point. Our good friend Vincent was a tortured soul. His paintings contrast this beautifuly. They are full of colour and most of his subject matter is devoid of any signs of the darker side of his life. His life is fraught with many pains and woes. He fell in love with a prostitute, the art world couldn't understand him at the time, he took his own life.

In comparison to this my wounded leg seems fairly trivial. But a mere nusiance than true suffering. If I allowed it i could easily let it stop me. I could rationlize myself out of this current route, and back into a easier life. But like Vincent i feel that i am on to something here. I will endure this slight. The human body is capable of much more than just a little pain. I feel that pain creates beauty in a way. Without pain there is no reason to struggle on and find the next step.

This brings us to:


I am not fully qualified to talk on this subject. I am by no means a monk. I probably am going to recieve some flack for this. But I feel confident that I can suffer the slings and arrows.

Nirvana, as I understand it, is bliss. A state of being where an individual transcends the self and is opened to euprhoric state. A route out of suffering. In my humble opinion the pursuit of Nirvana is Death. The Zen monks are on to something with this concept Nirvana. A hieghtened sense of awareness that elevates the being out of this world. The reason I feel that Nirvana is death is because it leaves everything else behind. It is too individual. Which is contrary to the concept of it in the first place. I do realize that eastern philosophy is contradictory in nature. Thats why I feel that i can make this rather brash assumption. I am trying to tease something out here, humor me if you please.

If enlightenment means a route away from the suffering body then what does it mean for the rest. The people who "left" behind? Do they continue to suffer while the ecstatic monk enjoys being nothing? Seems pretty preposterous eh?

The rail crew were pleasant folk. I played leap frog with them for most of the day. I would pass them and then they would pass me. They didn't seem to care that I was tresspassing, breaking a number of laws. I think they could tell that I was no trouble at all.

Into San Luis Obispo I trudged. The pain in my leg either diminishing or I was getting used to it. There are some pretty interesting feature to the area. The come in the form of defunct Volcanoes. Not the type that have blown their lid. They all seemed to have pointed crowns still. I stopped at a grocery store to stock up on some provisions. I figured it may be the last time I would run into a VONS, and i had a bunch of cupons, that my card has gotten me.

In the middle of town I stopped at a great European Bakery. It was dutch themed more than any other European country. The girl behind the counter had a wonderful smile, and informed me that if i had my own cup coffee was only $1. I am kind of miffed that I lost my mug back down the road. I shall have to find one somewhere. Hey Aunt Linda do you have any more? That last one you gave me was the bomb-diggity. The handle broke when I was in Toronto this past christmas, but it was quite a nice mug. A shame to have lost it. But such is the nature of material posessions.

After emailing I took off. I was tempted to write a little something there, but I couldn't come up with the right topic. On I walked. Through Downtown and on back to the PCH. I read a sign that said it was 13 miles to Morro Beach. No chance to make it there for night fall. I resigned myself to sleeping next to the highway.

As fate would have it, someone offered me a lift. I was on the otherside of the road. Facing on-coming traffic. He was turning on to a side street. He yelled at me as he passed. "I am headed to Morro Bay in a bit. Meet me on the highway." So on i walked. Down the road. I switched to the otherside to be nice. Just as I was leaving the city limits he pulled over. Again without thumbs. Signs and thumbs are not the way to get a ride. Walking is the way. I took the ride. I don't feel that I am rationalizing. It wasn't because my leg was sore. It was mostly for the reason that its another person to talk to and glean valuable information from. It would be arrogant not to take the ride. I am trying to curb my arrogant ways. Not that arrogance is bad persay, but it can hinder ultimate goals. Everything in moderation.

Neil had alot to say about the area. He was the one who told me about the Volcanoes. He also told me about a trail that I might be able to find along the route. He is an Oyster Farmer in Morro Bay. I told him that I used to pick them. All the oysters grown in California are from Canadian seed. As the water is too warm for them to reproduce. Interesting fact eh? No endagerment of releasing an invasive species.

Neil dropped me off at the campground. There was no attendant at the gate. so i slipped in. I ran into a fellow by the name of Tom. We talked as twilight did its magic. Some more useful infromation was glean from the conversation.

I had a couple of beers up on a rock over looking the bay, then i walked back to the campground. I unfurled my tarp on a nice patch of grass next to the washroom. slept for half the night. Spent the rest thinking. I have to say that the washroom is a nice place to type. A toilet is gets a little uncomfortable after a while. Good lighting though, and the audio from my pathetic speakers sounds that much better.

Well its starting to get light out. I should really bid haste from here. The internet isn't free at this camground. I have been told of a cafe which has some available. Its time for coffee anyway. perhaps i will find a mug on the way.

just one picture this time

I just got to one of the best internet cafes. Its called 2 dogz it rocks. If ever you are in Morro bay check it out. All sorts of freeky people here.

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