As the Mists Clear...

...and the hard edges of Reality begin to assert their presence, the sheer magnitude of the work that lies ahead of me becomes whelmingly clear.

The reality of having given up, quite literally, everything to do what was asked, then returning to start, also quite literally, from scratch is profoundly daunting. Still depleted from what I experienced over the past several months, I find I am already exhausted as I launch myself, anew.

Awash in a sea of possibility and improbability, though populated with friendly faces and encouragement, without any sort of anchor remains powerfully stressful and lonely - even surrounded with friends. I know I can do this; I hope that I'm right.

As I write this, halfway through my second week at home, I am in my third apartment. I spent most of last week on the 46th Floor of Manhattan Plaza, in the apartment of a longtime friend, taking care of his cat, Caruso; a cat with a voice that makes a Siamese sound like a wind chime... But, we bonded.

From the window, one has an exotic view of Manhattan from its edge; toward Times Square and the heartbeat of the City.

In the other direction, the view of the Hudson is magnificent, with the USS Enterprise museum docked on the west side - and the Concorde balanced atop the ship...

The apartment is at the exact height as the apex of the Great Pyramid at Giza; a spiritual aerie in a town not known for its spirituality...though, spirituality does exist, here. In and among the spires and valleys of this metropolis thrums the energy of life; one need only be open to it, open to the flow. It's there...

But, what has happened to Broadway!? That broad avenue is now, indeed, as close to a Pedestrian Mall as is ever going to manifest in Manhattan. A broad walkway for le turiste with a lane or two for mostly public transportation and taxis...

Love the "green."

It is good to be here, though. This week, I encountered a family of tourists on a subway platform, examining a map; so, I asked if they needed assistance. Turns out they were Italian, from Venezia, and spoke no English. KO to the rescue! (And they said learning Italian would do me no good, outside an Opera House...) An extremely nice family, whose faces lit up as I began to tell them - in their own language - how to get to the Met. Those experiences tend to fuel my raison d'etre.

Felt good, the rest of the day.

Further along the way, I encountered these two talented kids; a violin duet in the subway. Stopping to photograph them, I noticed what could only be their mother, all tucked away next to a pillar and watching her kids like a tutorial hawk; counting every note with a slight nod of her head. I asked her, "Are these yours...?" A proud nod and a huge smile came gleaming back at me. "You must be proud; those kids are GOOD!" "Why, thank you!"

It was a good day.

Finally, as though to round-out my underground experience, in glancing across the tracks I saw something I'd never before seen. While I've often seen, and in fact look forward to seeing, rats scuttling about amongst the tracks and evaporating just before the trains come in; I've never seen a big ol' rat on the platform, before.

Dayum!

Fortunately, he was going Uptown.

Splashdown

Of all the homeless people in Manhattan, I must be the happiest one.

Just walking down the street, I am likely to spontaneously chuckle, out loud, in my upbeat relief at being back in this city. I mean this City. When I think about where I am and what I've been through, what it took to get me to this place where I am at such peace in the face of some fairly serious obstacles; I just laugh!

I arrived here, Tuesday evening, and made it to the home of S before a massive thunderstorm broke, overhead. The rain was pouring from the sky in huge, heavy, thickly translucent sheets; figuratively washing away the last of the negative detritus of my Australian Experience from my battered soul. What I keep with me from Oz is the memory of some very special people with whom I ultimately found relationships of integrity, down there, and some special, professional successes I was able to protect and enjoy.

And, all in all, I am so glad I went; I return with nothing but positive things to integrate into the rebuilding of my life, here. I discovered I could handle adversity with equanimity, give what was asked and only what was asked, even when offering more might be called-for but resisted. One can, after all, lead a horse to water...

[Or, as they say; you can lead a horticulture, but you can't make her think...]

And, in returning earlier than planned, I am able to give integrity to my own self-promise; offering presence and availability to something far more important than work.

Wednesday morning dawned, fresh and clean (and a little humid; it IS NYC, after all...) and all-welcoming. First stop, the Apple Store and my new iPhone...

Then, on to Central Park to pick out a place to live. I found this lovely little tree-strewn slope; perfect to fit a nice refrigerator box from which I can sell apples (the fruit), come the fall.

Isn't this nice? just a hop, skip and a jump from 5th and 59th, with artwork just outside the "door," it's centrally located, and I can tell prospective employers and clients that I live "...just across from the Plaza..." And, when I am bored, I can take a sheet of cardboard from the wall of my box and use it as a sled, in wintertime. I'll be FINE...!

...turning in the other direction, one can see the Art through the trees...

and, even closer...

The fact is; I can't imagine things going more smoothly than already they seem to be unfolding. I have apartment-sitting/cat&dog-feeding gigs lined up to keep a roof over my head for the coming six weeks or so...and, I've just spent four wonderful days, reconnecting with S; as both of us continue to discover that we see some key things, similarly or in concert. This is good; all good.

I have a couple of meetings arranged - one for a nearly-perfect sounding position with one of the very few non-profit agencies for which I'd consider working - and have already been asked to participate in an industry panel at an elite conference of the themed entertainment industry to take place in Orlando, next month. The time, in between, will be divided between continuing to mine the Network and making applications at Banana Republic and Starbuck's -- gotta get some income, goin'...

Y'know; in the past, had I seen myself in a position to need to take an hourly-wage job in order to keep food coming in and my (outrageously high, thankyouverymuch) insurance premiums paid, I would have been horrified at what that might mean to someone considering me for a project or position.

No more. Even now, as it has become less academic and more of a very real possibility; there is no angst. I'll need to do what I need to do as I rebuild from scratch after shutting it all down for Oz. If a potential client or employer has judgement about it -- as if working hourly somehow reduces the quality or value of my body of work -- then, we probably would not work well together, anyway.

I give pretty good Google; I think my work speaks for itself, and I'll be doing okay. So, keep your eyes peeled, I may show up behind the coffee bar or cash register, any day now.

Finally, I had left one person out of my litany of Good People from Melbourne of last week; Ali Ronin from the grocery store. He works with Magdy; and I spent a large part of my final night in Melbourne behind the counter with the two of them, chatting as they rang people up and out.

Both of these men come from strict, Arabic cultures and countries, and I have presented myself as the "out" man that I am, unhesitatingly and unwaveringly. Even going to church with Magdy, when he asked me about religion and spirituality in my life, my response included that fact that even his church doesn't approve of me or my relationship; that very few, if any, organized religions embrace gay people without restriction and judgement.

But from the first time, months ago, that either of these men asked me about family and wife and kids and I responded fully, answering that I had no wife or kids, but that I had a "partner" back home, named Scott; each of these men accepted this fact without the batting of an eye...and I think gained respect for me as I showed no shame or apology.

All the more reason to live a life of integrity on all fronts.

The next day, as I was traveling home (a mere 27-hours of travel), Ali sent me a note, including, "...I wish you safe and enjoyable trip, last night was one of the best nights I have ever had at the store! For some reason I got a feeling that I will see u again, be good, enjoy yourself and live your life...say hi to your partner as well..."

"...take care. Ali"

How great is that...?

Oases Within the Nightmare

Week Thirty-Two / Day Two

Departure Minus One

Crown Casino Says Farewell

...and, it HAS been a nightmare. This sojourn in Australia has been almost ludicrously painful in so many ways. What comes to mind is one of those low-budget horror films wherein the protagonist, a Psychiatrist perhaps, somehow finds himself trapped inside an Insane Asylum, and no matter what he says to the staff or security guards, all he gets in return are enigmatic smiles and nods, humoring him while not taking him seriously; leaving him baffled and frustrated, unable to have any effect on his situation or environment...

..."of COURSE you're a psychiatrist...now, take your pills..."

The disparity between what was envisioned and what awaited me has been so great that - now that I am departing - it can only be seen as humorous. Well, perhaps there are other perspectives, but none which would serve my own evolution and spiritual growth. I have, as I previously wrote, done some good work, here; making a difference in some deserving and worthwhile contexts. I am very happy with that.

In and among the day-to-day, though; I have found some oases in Melbourne. Oases of sensitivity and creativity, of thoughtfulness and caring, of authenticity and respectfulness. These are places and people, my relationships with which have offered support and affirmation; pouring love and light into my life as I worked through this difficult and challenging time.

So, I took last week to more-or-less Tour the Oases of my experience, here; to document some of the beauty that has helped to make this visit so valuable to me. And, make no mistake: although I have been miserable, here, I come away with nothing but positive results. I have a strong experience of my own worth, of my own excellence at what I do. I sometimes, now, marvel at a defensiveness of my methods, skills, talents and results I now realize I had carried for some time: it has dissipated, here. My tests, here, have given me a context of validation in a vacuum, and I think I no longer challenge the world to recognize my value. I know I'm good, and I embrace that; I don't need anything else.

I also marvel - as will anyone who's known me for more than five years - at how angry I am not. I look around, inside of myself, and can't find the anger; I marvel that I am not even resisting it - it simply isn't there.

Which isn't to say that the process of this experience hasn't taken its toll. I am mentally and physically depleted, and I think it shows a bit in my manner and in my physical presence.

...and in the fact that tears can appear without warning...

Nothing, though, that a few (well, several) weeks of workouts and eating right and being among friends won't regenerate and revivify. I'm sure that even the breaking-through of the chrysalis takes an immediate toll on the butterfly, before he floats into the sky. I'll be fine...

---------------

Anyway. To the Tour!

Vitality. The Chiropractic clinic I was fortunate to have stumbled across that has changed the way I experience such practice and been a true oasis of caring comfort. There were many times when I would arrive quite some time prior to an appointment, just so that I could soak-in the atmosphere of healing that permeates this place.

I said to Sam, my chiropractor, that from the first time I placed my head and neck in his hands, I knew -- I felt it -- that he wanted Kile to heal, that Sam personally wanted to help heal Kile; that energy flowed from his hands, into me, and I felt I would be taken care of, there. I was.

So, this is Emily; the person whom I first encountered upon crossing the threshold one hot, summer afternoon in January. As is everyone in this space, Emily loves her work and loves her path through life. Each person at Vitality is quite different from the others, and they each and all share a commitment to health that radiates from heart and soul.

When I shared the fact that I was leaving Australia, Emily is the woman who wrote me, "When we met, that first day, it was like I was seeing a very dear friend after a long absence..."

Emily

Then, there's Kath; who was hugging me before the hugs were even prescribed. Her smile shines into the street from her desk in the clinic. On the coldest of days, her warmth radiates and wraps itself around one's heart.

Kath

And Dr. Sam Floreani - of the should-be-famous, Hot Floreani Brothers; all from Alice Springs and the core corps of Vitality. Sam is the man who prescribed for me, after months of expert and precise chiropractic work (and much wrestling with the cords of my neck and back), a regimen of hugs to be administered in conjunction with each of my visits and adjustments. He perceived that my needs extended to caring, human contact; beyond the simple chiropractic. He, and every individual working at the clinic, takes "holistic" to the fullest, broadest, most nurturing levels.

Sam

Then, Saturday night was spent in my favorite, Melbourne restaurant, "va bene." Located on a pier that extends deep into the center of the Harbour; this little, family-style Italian place has style, is warm and welcoming, does simple and spectacularly exceptional Italian food and pizza that would rival the best of Italy (and NYC). (They do, though, slice their bread so wafer-thin that it is virtually useless in sopping up the fantastic, hearty sauces they create - they'll get there...)

If you are ever in Melbourne, I offer that this place is not to be missed. So far, it's a well-kept secret; always full, not yet overflowing. Try it.

So, I spent Saturday evening, there, with the two women who make Jason Coleman's Ministry of Dance operate so professionally and support Jason's creativity so well. We met in the process of creating the experience for the Ronald McDonald House Charity Ball; Ateesha and Kristin.

Kristin and I bonded over my timelines; when she saw that I laid shows out to the quarter-minute, she knew she'd found a Kindred Spirit. The energy that flows from her is so beautiful, powerful and positive; watching these two shepherd and support 100 children, a company of dancers, and Jason, is pretty darn impressive.

When I first encountered Jason and his Hot Blonde's, I had thought to myself that this was going to be a painful exercise in diplomacy and restraint around a bunch of divas and a Divo. I was SO wrong, as you know. The experience of working with Jason and these women was transformative and affirmative. Both Jason and I found a powerful bond in the creative process and -- as with Vitality -- these people Love What They Do...and they want everyone who does it to love it, too.

We did good work, together; and we shall do it again, somewhere on this Big Blue Marble.

Ateesha and Kristin

Then, yesterday, I went to church with Magdy, the math teacher from Egypt whom I have been helping to tutor in English. One can see, from the color of the sky, that even God may have been a tad trepidatious about Kile entering one of her churches...

St. George's Coptic Church of St. Albans

This was a fascinating morning. I had no experience of the Coptic Church; nor, prior to meeting Magdy, had I even heard of it. But this day, from the moment we passed through the gates of the compound, I could have as easily been in a suburb of Cairo as of Melbourne.

The congregation is huge - they have several, successive and concurrent, services throughout the weekend. This morning was the one in the three languages; Coptic, Arabic and English.

From my perspective, the structure and services are similar to Catholic or Greek Orthodoxy. What is particularly fascinating to this Westerner is the fact that (as I could read the Liturgy in English as it was being recited and chanted), the words and structure are virtually the same as what I've seen in Catholic services, since forever; yet it is clearly and fully Middle Eastern, Arabic, in experience.

What is sung in Western Churches is chanted, here; much as one might hear in a mosque or synagogue. Rather than a pipe organ, the accompaniment is by cymbal. Very Arabic, the nuance within the service and the physical structure of the church, itself, incorporated much detail that articulated the culture of that part of the world represented by these people and their culture.

I could not have felt more welcomed, actually.

After the service, Magdy's friends, of which he has many (he is a deacon of the church), came by to introduce themselves; expressing the gracious hospitality of the Arabian culture. We all ate, together, afterward (I mean the entire congregation of both services at that hour); a feast of felafel and a plethora of informal Arabic food.

One gentleman to whom I was introduced - they all knew I was the American who has been helping Magdy with his English - asked to confirm that I am traveling, this week. When I said that I was going home, he gave to me a loaf of Blessed Bread - with iconography baked into the crust - to accompany me, to help me on my way.

Magdy's wife, Amyre, was a music teacher, in Egypt; and their lives continue to be full of music. His kids are wonderful; Abnab plans to be a veterinarian, Danny (3 years) is musically inclined, and I didn't get much out of Elena, his pre-teen daughter...also quite beautiful...

I'm so glad I went to this service, with Magdy. He is deeply appreciative of my working with him, and I keep telling him that it is his gift to me to be able to do this and to help him to achieve his own goal. Being able to experience this family for whom he cares so much, for whom he is responsible - being able to experience his church, culture and extensive family of friends; this was something very special, yesterday.

I shall carry Magdy with me, as I continue onward. His humility, his graciousness, his intelligence and his sense of responsibility are humbling, to me.

Magdy and his family; Abnab, Danny and Amyre, Magdy's wife.

Magdy and Elena

------------------

As I post this, one day remains before my flight. Tonight, the sun shall set on Docklands and on Melbourne and on the powerful, evolutionary and revelatory experience I have been lucky to have had, here.

The next sunset I shall see will be reflecting on the face of someone for whom I care more deeply and profoundly than I can express...

I'm going home.

P.S.

Lakshmi

Hindu Goddess of Wealth and Beauty

...To Our Regular Programming

Week Thirty-One / Day One

It has been an introspective and reflective several days since I last posted...as one might imagine. I have been quietly taking stock of what has taken place, here in Australia; looking forward toward what lies ahead and with what evolutionary lessons, what new or refined tools, I face this future.

Thinking carefully, I don't know that I have ever actually had a future so completely and thoroughly uncertain. I have no place to live, no clients, no job, no place to even ship my belongings. I will depart Oz in just over a week with what I can carry, and that is what I will be living with until I have rebuilt my life; the rest shall remain, stored here in Melbourne until such time as I can ship it to myself...somewhere.

Hell, I may never see this stuff, again... (Makes me wish I'd taken the time to upload ALL of my music to iTunes; but that's 2500 cd's!)

At the same time, I don't think I've ever looked toward my future with such complete absence of angst, of worry, of tension. Even driving away from Georgetown, after graduation; rocketing toward my future with "Dawn" playing loudly on my stereo and the spires of Healy Tower filling my rear-view mirror as I drove to Florida to take my first professional job as fly-ahead man for Semester at Sea, there was an underlying feeling of I-sure-hope-I-can-pull-this-off-well. I don't feel even that subtle subtext of minor anxiety.

I just feel great; all I see is possibility.

Who IS this guy in the mirror!?

This isn't to say that I'm blithe about what lies ahead. My eyes are open, and on the ball, and I'm doing all I can to prepare for what may or may not materialize. My days are filled with outreach and accessing networks and putting out the proverbial word; but there are no assurances that anything, any work, will come my way before resources dry up.

I'm simply not afraid of it, not fearful of what I may need to do to survive. I suppose, when one has finally lost pretty much everything, one discovers an entirely new perspective on possibility. I may be pulling lattes at Starbuck's within a few weeks... Well, so be it.

And, the fact is, I haven't lost Everything. I am one of the wealthiest men in the world when it comes to having actual friends; people who care about me and who are watching me...reaching out to be sure I know that they are there. It isn't beyond the realm of possibility for me to stick out my thumb and spend time with dear friends from all eras of my life in various parts of the country while I'm seeking and waiting for professional work to come.

Watch for me at your local onramp:

"Have Laptop; Will Work for Food"

"...Will Direct for Food"?

"...Will Produce for Food"?

There may well be 24-hour diners all over the place who could use a backup cook (and a damn good one) or waiter for a week or two. What the hell? Little could surpass what I've just endured, down here; being 12,000 miles from where I should be, on a handshake in a world of contracts, is as disconnected and unsupported as I expect to ever again experience.

THAT won't happen, again.

The thing at which I continue to marvel, though, is the complete absence of anger I experience. And this, without concentration or discipline; I seem to just have Let It Go. I suppose I could find it, were I to dig for it; then smack it around a bit to revive and let it loose...but to what purpose?

Even my chiropractor has been laughing, this week, at how astonishingly easier it has become to adjust me. So much of what was virtually innate tension seems to have dissipated. ("What has happened to YOU; your body isn't fighting me, anymore!?")

My work - physical, spiritual, psychological - is far from done; this sort of work is never really Completed until we actually depart this plane. Though, I seem to have made some sort of quantum breakthrough. The discipline, now, will be to maintain this attitude and perspective and make it an inherent part of me. Not a simple task; but one that is possible.

I have my own life to live (well, to build and live) and I think - no, it's deeper than that; I sense...I feel...I know - that anger has no positive part in what I have to do, next.

(Of course, we'll see how I feel when I move into that refrigerator box in a corner of Central Park!)

No matter what, though; Home Base will be NYC. I have something, there; someone with whom I share something that deserves exploration and nurturing, and is my highest and greatest priority. Life has no guarantees, and I accept that; I know, though, where I need to be.

Home IS where the heart is; and that puts me in Manhattan.

So, one more week in Oz. One more posting from here; then I shall be home.

Kiss Today Goodbye...

Yes.