July 4th

This journal started by talking about John Steinbeck's Travels with Charley. Near the end of John's travels he knew the journey was over, even though he had not gotten to his home. I understand what John was feeling. Many wonderful connections and events have happened since arriving in Minnesota, and we are hoping to connect with Father William tomorrow. Even so, I feel little interest in writing. I'll attempt to write anyway. With meditation practice you meditate when you want to and when you don't.

July 2nd we got up early and Austin's parents drove us to the bus station in Des Moines. The bus was pretty full but we were able to find two aisle e seats next to each other. The sun was just rising when we boarded and most of the passangers were still asleep, or pretending to be, so nobody would ask to share their seats. My experience taking long distance bus trips has usually been unpleasant, but this six-hour trip went smoothly. The man I was sitting next to got several calls on his cell phone and I only heard him speak Spanish. He spoke very quickly and I noticed a beauty in the sounds of his words.

Just after we entered the state of Minnesota a muscular black man who might have been in his yearly thirties and who was sitting behind Austin started a conversation with a young black man sitting in front of me. It was obvious that these men knew each other, probably from having a conversation the night before. It was also obvious that these two men had spent time in some pretty rough neighborhoods. I wish I could convey a sample of their conversation that would do justice to the poetry, power and beauty of the way they communicated. Their use of the English language was unlike anything I had ever heard before. Though I undestood every word they spoke, it took me ten minutes to figure out what they were talking about!

"You know what I'm saying? I was being on the up with the man. He knew the hussle and I just wanted to get in and get out. I told him, 'I'm cool, no jive let's just do it.' He had two of his niggas working for him, I hate working with niggas, you know what I'm saying? These guys knew the rules and they knew I was from out of town. But I knew what those niggas were up too. Can't be that way. We flew to L.A. with 20K, and after we laid down the track and paid for the time, we 'cut up' the rest. What was cut, that is what you got. You know what I'm saying?"

It turns out he was a recording artist and had been to L.A. to make a CD. The band had a $20,000 fund to produce the CD. Recording fees might be about $2,000 to $3,000. After all other expenses were paid, they "cut up" the remainder of the fund and that was what he made in terms of salary. His life sounded pretty miserable with always having to defend himself from a hussle.

At one point he was telling the young man in front of me about how the hussle works in L.A. He and several friends had been invited to a party. They suggested if he brought his new truck with him, some of their women friends would probably find him attractive. When he got to the party he immediately knew he was in trouble. He was separated from his friends and forced to hand over his ATM card. They asked him to drive to the ATM so they could get money to buy alcohol for the party. He said, "The whole time they was just waiting for me to say 'no.' I knew if I said "no" that was THE END. I asked them what I should do about the truck. They said 'Report it stollen and everything in it too.' "

Though his life sounded like hell to me, he had an incredible understanding of human nature. He also said a few very wise things. The thing I was most impressed with was the following conversation. At one point he was telling the young man that the Hood in Arkansas thought they were pretty bad. He said that if they ever went to New York or L.A. their attitude would get them killed though. He said, "They have no give in their talk."

Before arriving in Minneapolis the older of the two men started a conversation with Austin. It was interesting that his English changed completely, the tone, volumne, sentence structure, choice of words, topic, everything. I heard him say, "When I saw you with your sandles on I thought you guys walked right out of the desert." After Austin told him about our walking from New Orleans to Memphis he had to tell his friend about us. Right in front of our eyes we were turned into legends. "These guys walked from New Orleans to Memphis barefoot and they walked all day and all night long . . . they are like Moses you know." I couldn't hear all of their conversation but I hope Austin will write about it in a journal entry.

When we got to Minneapolis my high school friend Sarah and her partner Tom were waiting for us. They drove us to a nice Thai restaurant where several of my friends from Crawfordsville were waiting for us. Sarah, Bindi, Ron and I all were in the same class and Treena was few years younger. Ron and I have a bond in that we spent a few hours in jail one night. We continue to have a laugh about that event. It was great to see my friends and their families again, unfortunately we were tired from the bus trip and didn't get to spend as much time together as we would have liked. Separation from the liked is dukkha (suffering).

We are staying with Patrice and Dan. I met Patrice back in November and she graciously invited us to stay in her home when she heard we were coming through. They live one block from the Common Ground Meditation Center, so that was a real blessing. Minneapolis is a lovely city. It has a small-town feeling to it. Austin comment today that people here stare at us too, but they seem to be happy to see us.

On July 3rd the Common Ground Meditation Center held its quarterly meeting and potluck meal. About forty-five people came and it was an opportunity for the community to hear a talk and formally take the Five Precepts. After the meal Austin and I gave an informal talk about the pilgrimage. That evening about twenty people gathered for a meditation and I gave a formal talk, again talking about the pilgrimage.

I can hear the 4th of July fireworks in the not-so-far-off distance, and I'm starting to lose energy for writing. Hopefully I 'll have a chance to write once more before we get to Thunder Bay. I hope to write an entry or two from Arrow River as well, perhaps a few parting thoughts.