Zeitgeist.

 

After the frantic pace of my last class, it was time for a much-needed break. Booked into an RV slot at the Newport Marina, we spent five gloriously sunny days 'boxing, hiking, laughing, and shopping in my favorite place in the entire world - the Oregon coast. If I could live there, I would. But, as it happens, I am lucky enough to visit every chance I get. I truly consider it my second home and most fortunate to be able to visit.

Now that we are back home, the dust is settling. Traveling is just not like it was ... to be honest, nothing is like 'it was' in any regard or circumstance. Every time we set out, I am continually struck by how surreal life has become. This time the conversation everywhere was about the renewed surges of coronavirus cases, how many are choosing to remain vulnerable by not getting the vaccine, and how restaurants cannot stay open due to staff shortages. In spite of all the heaviness of the times, we made the best of it. It's a good thing we brought along food and the rolling hotel room to cook in!

that moment you realize you are in the wrong place altogether ...
I am pretty sure the box is on the other side!

Obimaster contemplates the meaning of life,
 just as the Thinker of antiquity

We managed to nab about 25 boxes - a real boon! Amazingly, there was only a couple of 'attempts' for boxes that had gone missing; that is quite an improvement over some of the last places we have been, where only about 50 percent of the listed 'active' boxes were findable. Along with our successes, we were treated to some jaw-dropping beautiful landscapes, open spaces, and fresh air. It was soothing to this news-weary soul.

As everything slowed down for the day,
we took one last stroll along the water

Coastal forest - it smells as good as it looks

Along a sweet nature trail in Beverly Beach State Park

Nothing like getting out in nature to sooth what mentally hurts. And, I am coming to grips with the changes in relationships, in groups (like the letterboxing community), and in society as a whole. 

Let's be honest: life is pretty hard right now. Oh, I am sure some would disagree with me. And that's fine. But I know what I feel and see all around me.

Gone are the easier-going days of sharing and caring - at least for now, I suppose. Most are pressed and stressed, and some are lashing out, hurting others to dull their own pain and grief. Jostling and pushing their opinions for a perceived position, to build their identity, to feel better about themselves and their situation. It is as if no one knows what to do, so they just do whatever makes them feel more empowered in the moment. Unfortunately, it is often at the expense of others.

We had a couple of scary-close calls on the road as other drivers were recklessly passing, trying to be first. I heard rage, distrust, and just plain wrong information from strangers and cashiers. I saw discourtesy and a general lack of community everywhere - from the litter and overflowing garbage cans, to strangers stealing fishing equipment when the fisherman stepped away for a moment, to restaurant patrons yelling at masked servers. And I see more and more people surviving by living in tired travel trailers because they cannot secure or afford conventional housing. All the while, the 'heat dome' builds over the country and the world is burning up ... literally. What do you do with all that? 

For a sensitive person like myself, I grieve. I feel my heart hurting. I hope for better times. And - as we have been told so many times - I look for the helpers. In the end, I try to be a helper and a balm to the hurting by showing friendly-kindness, tolerance, acceptance, and compassion. Not sure how much it helps, but it is all I know to do.

My next class is called Intervention Strategies - interesting given the circumstances. Do you think there are some strategies that would turn some of this around? I am hopeful, as always. But just like I have no idea what I will do when I am done with this psych program, I have no clear picture about where we are going as a community or society, much less a nation and world. I suppose that, too, is nothing new.

I started out this post as a bit of a letterboxing travel log, but as you can see (if you have read this far) there is much more on my heart than just travel memories. How can anyone pretend everything is just peachy when all of this is pressing so insistently? The seriousness of these times makes finding carved rubber stamps in a park a bit trivial. 

Trivial but somehow life-saving, too. 

I guess we are all trying to find our own way to survive. And I would suggest that in times like these most turn inward toward family and close friends, if they still have some. They intentionally keep their circle small and protected. That's where I am: calling the guards in closer and pulling up the mote. Deleting input that is not helpful. And keeping to my little family, making sure we are safe and fed, physically and mentally - whatever that means. 

I reactivated this blog in an attempt to add my voice to, what seemed to be, a growing enthusiasm in the letterboxing community. Older boxers, like myself, coming back in hopes of rekindling the positive memories and experiences they remembered. Perhaps they mistakenly thought, as I did, that they could step back into the community they left when life allowed. But what I am finding is that community is different, and recapturing those feelings is proving to be harder than I thought. I didn't realize how privileged I was to have a warm, welcoming community available at the click of my mouse. That is just not how it is anymore, and I miss it. 

But, who knows - things change, and the letterboxing community will change, as well. And the world will change. I am hopeful it will change for the better. Ever hopeful.