April 2
The twelve hour flight to Los Angeles from Auckland was easy. Both U.G. and I slept much of the way, though I made it through most of Paul Newman's "Blaze". We chatted and discussed the food and talked about the trip and New Zealand. The stewardess addressed U.G. as 'Madame', I guess because of his long hair, delicate features, mauve jersey, and diminutive size. He didn't mind, he said, and I didn't feel my usual need to straighten things out, to set the record straight.
I completely messed things up in customs, getting through way before U.G. (who had to go through the immigration line). Instead of waiting for him, I cleared customs and headed up to the car rental phone. I was trying to be efficient, save time, but I ended up stranding him with his bags and no American money for a trolley (I had rented one for him but couldn't get it to him), and no help. I finally found him outside the terminal, waiting for me. A giant miscalculation on my part.
I need to be more deliberate, less impetuous, think always of U.G.'s well-being ahead of time-saving strategies, to remember that he doesn't mind waiting. But it also showed me that I can let go of something much more easily than I could a month or so ago. I was sorry, saw my error, but that was the end of it. It didn't hover over me like the eighth deadly sin. U.G. also didn't make anything out of it. Only the comment, "I might hop on the next available plane and leave you behind, if you do things like that."
We rented a car and headed north to Ventura. U.G. remembered a motel with kitchens run by an Indian. We eventually found it, but it had deteriorated and was too seedy to stay in. So we took two rooms at a Great Western motel, very comfortable. For dinner, we made couscous in cups, and I had salad in the ice bucket (we had stopped at a super market)—an enjoyable picnic. Made phone calls all over, U.G. to India and Mill Valley and to Moorty, and I later from my room to my mother, Luna and Isabel.
In the morning we checked out early and drove up to Ojai where we spent most of the day with Scott and Ted, Julie and her friend Meg and a few others. U.G. made couscous and some others came by bringing salad and hummus. Ojai is beautiful, and has a wonderful feeling to it. Everyone was warm and friendly. All U.G.'s grace and energy.
Scott mentioned the fear he sometimes feels around U.G., that U.G. represents the absolute end of the road, the kiss of death, the specter of annihilation... The end of hope and illusion which is where healing, new life and energy are born. He described U.G. as a festering splinter.
I am charmed at the effortless way groups of old friends come together when U.G. appears, with no advance planning or notice. As natural as birth itself, the ease and camaraderie are lovely. Openness with no stress, no goals, just being together.
We left Ojai at 2 p.m. and drove through the mountains, national park, and then through the desert to the coast. Continued on up from San Luis Obispo, and decided to go all the way to Carmel, arriving at 9 p.m. I enjoyed the drive, stopping to take videos of the magnificent scenery (and U.G. sleeping in the car). At one point we stopped and got out of the car and U.G. ate a tangerine, amazing. He commented on the false advertising, that they were supposed to be seedless, and instead had seeds, which he held out triumphantly.
U.G. told me that Scott had been enthusiastic about my being with him, taking care of him, that he told U.G. it was great that someone was with him who loved him so much. Moorty said the same thing to him on the telephone, U.G. reported. Though I feel supported by his friends, U.G. is his own bottom line, the last word.
We found a nice place in Carmel, where U.G. had stayed a few years ago. It has a kitchen and a fireplace, one bedroom, but the living room has a couch and the bath is separate. Perfect. I'm staying in the bedroom with all my stuff, and U.G. was happy to take the living room with the T.V. We'll stay two days and then head to Mill Valley. Tom is going to finally meet U.G. tonight, is breaking away from his rehab activities for a few hours.
I'm so happy with my life, comfortable with U.G. and this rhythm. My love for him makes everything possible. It seems as if it was activated in some new way in Stapylton, and somewhere along the line, recently, I lost my fear of abandonment, fear of failure. I can be with him in whatever way it comes about, each moment. Curious.
In the morning U.G. and I wandered about Carmel. He was easy-going and up for anything. We looked in shops, took videos at the ocean. I asked him if he liked Carmel. "Not particularly," was his answer to my unnecessary question. Then we drove up through the valley so I could show him Tom’s house, stopped at K Mart as a pilgrimage site and U.G. bought packing tape.
Then to Moorty's for lunch and the rest of the day. Good to see him, Wendy and the others who dropped by to say hello to U.G. We looked at odds and ends of videos from the trip.
Tom had a good introduction to U.G. because most of his main points were covered, but in a relaxed and friendly way. U.G. said afterwards that he really liked Tom, thought he was a very nice man—a big compliment. He doesn't usually offer opinions about people.
We came home late and U.G. said in the car that he and Moorty had talked about me while I went to Carmel. He said I wouldn't like what Moorty had said, but that he would tell me around the fire at home. Then he changed his mind, and I protested. So he said that Moorty felt U.G. was lucky to have found me, someone who loved him so much, was not interested in power and was the right person at the right time to be with him. Moorty had said that my energy was awesome.
I asked U.G. if he thought I had unusual energy and he said that he used to think it was restlessness but that everyone tells him it is energy, so it must be. What he really thinks, I'll never know. I told Tom that I couldn't imagine going back to my old life, that it didn't exist for me now. I feel my life now is with U.G. and home is wherever we are, for however long, and family are the people who come to him, his friends.
This morning it's off to Marin and the beginning of a busy time. U.G. just got up (it's 6:30 a.m.) so I'll take a shower, pack up and we'll leave as soon as possible. I feel at ease and able to cope with what is required. I hope I have enough money but that can be studied in New York and adjustments made if not. I can put my apartment to use in some way making some money, I'm sure of that. I feel U.G. should always be comfortable and stay in good places and not have to worry about money. If I am with him I will just make sure I am able to take care of this. I understand that his freedom comes from taking support from only one person, the one who is with him, and to rely only on that one. It keeps an organization from growing up, from factions and backbiting and 'inners and outers'. I see all this now, and know that he is right. I hope I am up to it, but anyway, I am here and all is well, and it will last as long as it lasts.
I completely messed things up in customs, getting through way before U.G. (who had to go through the immigration line). Instead of waiting for him, I cleared customs and headed up to the car rental phone. I was trying to be efficient, save time, but I ended up stranding him with his bags and no American money for a trolley (I had rented one for him but couldn't get it to him), and no help. I finally found him outside the terminal, waiting for me. A giant miscalculation on my part.
I need to be more deliberate, less impetuous, think always of U.G.'s well-being ahead of time-saving strategies, to remember that he doesn't mind waiting. But it also showed me that I can let go of something much more easily than I could a month or so ago. I was sorry, saw my error, but that was the end of it. It didn't hover over me like the eighth deadly sin. U.G. also didn't make anything out of it. Only the comment, "I might hop on the next available plane and leave you behind, if you do things like that."
We rented a car and headed north to Ventura. U.G. remembered a motel with kitchens run by an Indian. We eventually found it, but it had deteriorated and was too seedy to stay in. So we took two rooms at a Great Western motel, very comfortable. For dinner, we made couscous in cups, and I had salad in the ice bucket (we had stopped at a super market)—an enjoyable picnic. Made phone calls all over, U.G. to India and Mill Valley and to Moorty, and I later from my room to my mother, Luna and Isabel.
In the morning we checked out early and drove up to Ojai where we spent most of the day with Scott and Ted, Julie and her friend Meg and a few others. U.G. made couscous and some others came by bringing salad and hummus. Ojai is beautiful, and has a wonderful feeling to it. Everyone was warm and friendly. All U.G.'s grace and energy.
Scott mentioned the fear he sometimes feels around U.G., that U.G. represents the absolute end of the road, the kiss of death, the specter of annihilation... The end of hope and illusion which is where healing, new life and energy are born. He described U.G. as a festering splinter.
I am charmed at the effortless way groups of old friends come together when U.G. appears, with no advance planning or notice. As natural as birth itself, the ease and camaraderie are lovely. Openness with no stress, no goals, just being together.
We left Ojai at 2 p.m. and drove through the mountains, national park, and then through the desert to the coast. Continued on up from San Luis Obispo, and decided to go all the way to Carmel, arriving at 9 p.m. I enjoyed the drive, stopping to take videos of the magnificent scenery (and U.G. sleeping in the car). At one point we stopped and got out of the car and U.G. ate a tangerine, amazing. He commented on the false advertising, that they were supposed to be seedless, and instead had seeds, which he held out triumphantly.
U.G. told me that Scott had been enthusiastic about my being with him, taking care of him, that he told U.G. it was great that someone was with him who loved him so much. Moorty said the same thing to him on the telephone, U.G. reported. Though I feel supported by his friends, U.G. is his own bottom line, the last word.
We found a nice place in Carmel, where U.G. had stayed a few years ago. It has a kitchen and a fireplace, one bedroom, but the living room has a couch and the bath is separate. Perfect. I'm staying in the bedroom with all my stuff, and U.G. was happy to take the living room with the T.V. We'll stay two days and then head to Mill Valley. Tom is going to finally meet U.G. tonight, is breaking away from his rehab activities for a few hours.
I'm so happy with my life, comfortable with U.G. and this rhythm. My love for him makes everything possible. It seems as if it was activated in some new way in Stapylton, and somewhere along the line, recently, I lost my fear of abandonment, fear of failure. I can be with him in whatever way it comes about, each moment. Curious.
April 4
In the morning U.G. and I wandered about Carmel. He was easy-going and up for anything. We looked in shops, took videos at the ocean. I asked him if he liked Carmel. "Not particularly," was his answer to my unnecessary question. Then we drove up through the valley so I could show him Tom’s house, stopped at K Mart as a pilgrimage site and U.G. bought packing tape.
Then to Moorty's for lunch and the rest of the day. Good to see him, Wendy and the others who dropped by to say hello to U.G. We looked at odds and ends of videos from the trip.
Tom had a good introduction to U.G. because most of his main points were covered, but in a relaxed and friendly way. U.G. said afterwards that he really liked Tom, thought he was a very nice man—a big compliment. He doesn't usually offer opinions about people.
We came home late and U.G. said in the car that he and Moorty had talked about me while I went to Carmel. He said I wouldn't like what Moorty had said, but that he would tell me around the fire at home. Then he changed his mind, and I protested. So he said that Moorty felt U.G. was lucky to have found me, someone who loved him so much, was not interested in power and was the right person at the right time to be with him. Moorty had said that my energy was awesome.
I asked U.G. if he thought I had unusual energy and he said that he used to think it was restlessness but that everyone tells him it is energy, so it must be. What he really thinks, I'll never know. I told Tom that I couldn't imagine going back to my old life, that it didn't exist for me now. I feel my life now is with U.G. and home is wherever we are, for however long, and family are the people who come to him, his friends.
This morning it's off to Marin and the beginning of a busy time. U.G. just got up (it's 6:30 a.m.) so I'll take a shower, pack up and we'll leave as soon as possible. I feel at ease and able to cope with what is required. I hope I have enough money but that can be studied in New York and adjustments made if not. I can put my apartment to use in some way making some money, I'm sure of that. I feel U.G. should always be comfortable and stay in good places and not have to worry about money. If I am with him I will just make sure I am able to take care of this. I understand that his freedom comes from taking support from only one person, the one who is with him, and to rely only on that one. It keeps an organization from growing up, from factions and backbiting and 'inners and outers'. I see all this now, and know that he is right. I hope I am up to it, but anyway, I am here and all is well, and it will last as long as it lasts.
