Now that I am starting to get over the shock of my wife suddenly acquiring an incurable brain cancer that took her life in less than three months, I am beginning a process that feels a bit like the resurrection of the phoenix. I realize that my insignificant life is not comparable to great myths such as the Phoenix, but as those of you who have experienced an event such as this know, there are many similarities. My wife and I had been married for 48 years, being together for over 50. We had finally worked out most of the “marriage bugs” and were looking forward to a couple of decades more when she took ill and was swept away from me.

Her passing was much more than the loss of a friend, a partner, or lover – it was the loss of my identity as well. We had been together so long that we had grown into one – just as many tree trunks do when the contact each other for long enough, they grow together and are no longer two trees living side-by-side, they become one. In some very real and important ways I am no longer the person who I was just a few months ago, that person ceased to exist the moment that she died. Whoever that “Charlie” was in longer.

So, my new task it is rise once again – to create a new “Charlie.” However, I am not interested in creating a “new me” based upon any sort of “plans” or notion of what I want to be. I am more interested in leaving options open, and opening myself to experiences that might be useful for shaping something new and interesting (and who knows, maybe “important” in some way). My promise to my wife on her death bed was that I would continue the good fight to help the world, and that I would do it in a way that brought joy to myself and others. I am searching for ways toward that goal.

One of the things that I have done is to rent a second house not far from here that I can spend part-time in without the ties and constraints that are associated with our home for the last 30 years. I want to force myself to meet new people, experience a new environment and watch to see what grows. Our home in the country is very nice, quite beautiful … and very isolated. It is easy to spend days without seeing or talking to anyone, seeing and talking to others requires action and time. My new experimental living situation is located in a pretty, old fashioned “tourist” town. Stepping out of the door always results in encounters with others – it is a bit of the opposite from my current home. However, I am not particularity interested in encountering the tourists because they are into their “vacation thing”, I am interested in getting to know some of the locals on a more personal level. I picked on this town because it is where I grew up, leaving shortly after graduating from high school (notice I said “graduated from high school” not “graduated high school” – a hint of my old age I suppose). I am curious if something will grow from those old ties and old memories. It is an experiment at this point.

Almost 20 years ago my wife and I purchased a camper that slides into the bed of a pickup to do a bit of travel. We used it a few times, but mostly it just sat in the back yard beckoning us to take some time and travel. An indication of our use is that my 2006 Chevrolet pickup has 60,000 miles on it. Finally we aged out of the camper when my wife could no longer get into the bed over the pickup cab, and had a hard time negotiating the steps to get inside. We were contemplating selling the camper and purchasing a camper van with the intent of traveling around the USA when she died. My instinct when she died was to sell my camper, but then realized that while she couldn’t use the camper, I still can.

A overwhelming reaction when my wife died was get me away from HERE. Get me out of this place, get me away from all of the “house ghosts” (cloths in the closest, tooth brush in the bathroom, pots and pans and dishes, knickknacks on the shelves … everything around me). That has settled down a bit, I am comfortable living with these ghosts (but haven’t had the courage to change or move anything yet). Now I find myself in a place that was good with two people sharing each other’s time and interests – but now feels empty and lonely. Most of my future visions, plans and goals were related to OUR visions, our plans and goals, our interests. That no longer applies.

I began to wonder if perhaps I should continue with the plan to tour the county using the pickup and camper. A “Travels of Charlie” rather than “Travels with Charley” sort of adventure in the spirit of John Steinbeck. I don’t expect a written result from the trip (I have no intention of writing a book), but perhaps the experiences of an extended solo journey into unknown lands might be similar. I have been doing a bit of reading in preparation of this adventure. Of course I had to read Travels with Charley. I then stumbled upon the book Blue Highways by William Least Heat-Moon that is another narrative of a long solo journey around the USA. The two stories have a lot of similarities, and many differences besides that they were on different routes. The personal experiences were quite different, but both life changing. These trips were not particularly dangerous, but certainly allowing for a lot of time in introspection and contemplation. My daughter gave me yet another travel book as a Christmas present called On the Plain of Snakes by Paul Theroux. Theroux was vastly more adventuresome, and more dangerous, by taking a solo drive through rural Mexico during the Trump Presidency.

Each of the trips chronicled in these three books were the result of personal crises driving the authors in search of something, something that was known and unknowable at the beginning. These three books have caused me to wonder about the purpose of my proposed trip. I think this might be important because it might change some key aspects of the logistics of the trip. For example, if it is a “sight seeing” trip taking me to the various wonders of the country, I better be making plans and reservations now because most of these “hot spots” are booked far in advance. It is no longer feasible to just show up at a national park and expect a camping spot, and the hotels/motels are also booked and unavailable. It would be a planned trip with an itinerary and schedules. If it is a trip to parks to see the natural wonders, then perhaps my camper will suffice – but it will probably mean often cooking and eating by myself at a picnic table in a forest somewhere. (My experience is that I don’t like to do that very much, so I find places where I can purchase a meal.) A solution to the lonely part would be to take another person. A nice lady friend has already come forth to let me know she would really like to join me. Of course, that will totally change the nature of the trip.

If I am not particularly interested in seeing the wonders of nature, then perhaps the entire camping aspect is not necessary. Maybe a car trip with stays at hotels and motels would be better. A car would certainly be less expensive to drive, and easier to get around. However renting rooms and eating in restaurants would be MUCH more expensive than staying in parks and cooking in the camper. Perhaps I can’t afford to make it a car trip, or perhaps that limits the available time too much. However, at this point I am not willing to select based upon price, but rather based upon intent.

My intent is no longer just to “get the hell out of here” – but something more, something related to forming a new me. I don’t want to just get away, nor do I want to just go see pretty and interesting sights, I want to explore and grow. But explore and grow what, and for what reason? Is it just a desire to taste tastier things, or have more “adventuresome” adventures? Am I looking for eye candy and stokes to my ego, perhaps even someone to hug and cuddle now and then? Could be, but I don’t think so. I think it is more along the lines of my promise to my dying wife (and myself) that I will continue to do good things and have fun. (Having fun not in the sense of immediate pleasure like a carnival ride or an amazing dinner, but fun in the sense of enjoying life knowing that I am working toward making the world a better place in my little, inconsequential, way. This kind of fun is more like a satisfaction of life rather than a short term titillation.)

It feels like I need to go “out there” and find out things from people. I feel compelled to find out who they are, what they think, what is important to them – how do they visualize the world? I could do that by going to parks and special places, talking to those that are doing the same. However, that would result in me talking to travelers, vacationers, those with the time and means to do so. That does not connect me to the local communities. I would find something about the world view of tourists, but perhaps miss the big part. The important part. Right now, as I sit here today, I am really curious about what the others think, their world view, their worries and proposed solutions. The country seems very divided these days, but I don’t believe it. I think we are just not listening to each others – we aren’t hearing. I want to go listen.

To do this listening I need to find a way to find people to listen to. I think that is not in the parks, I think that is in diners, bars, shopping centers, sidewalks, tiny little museums, odd little local “special places.” Those are best found on foot in communities. It means getting out of the car and walking around where people might be. It probably means staying in some pretty seedy places, and maybe some pretty expensive ones. Maybe it means sleeping out on a cot or in a sleeping bag once in awhile – but then finding meals where people go to eat.

I spoke to some of my Buddhist friends this morning about this goal and worried that it would be my finding a lot of things, but not sharing them – so what would be the point, it would just me once again filling myself up with nothing. Their response was that I am a social person, a talker and that while I might not write a book or a paper on the subjects, I WILL talk to many people about what I found. Not only that, but they are already excited to hear what it is that I find out there. Maybe that enough.

As I write this I realize that I am going toward car travel rather than camper travel, going toward staying in towns rather than parks, and going solo rather than with a partner. Theroux purchased an obviously “used” car for his excursion to avoid standing out – maybe I should too. However, I think my older Subaru is probably just fine for the States – maybe not for deep Mexico.