Last class, Off the Wall, Philadelphia, trains, NYC, Hoboken, Montana, David, Chris, life and death, relationship, health and illness, Dallas, Coloma, days of magic

Last weekend I taught what I think will be my last class. The class was in a dome at a psytrance gathering in an East Texas forest… I got to the venue at dusk on a very overcast and cold Friday, set up my camp – which was simple as I was sleeping on a pad in the back of my RAV4 – and checked in with Kitty and Jessica at the main stage. Went for a walk in the woods and met up with Annie.

The music started around 8pm and was scheduled to stop Sunday around 11am. I hung out some by the dance floor with Kitty and at the chill dome where Kristina and Fritz were working on the deco. I turned in early to work on my presentation and listen to the music and all the shiny happy people talking and laughing at campsites near mine. It’s hard to sleep with the music pounding and having to get up pretty often to piss. I slept sound for awhile and awoke for good about 5:30. I stayed in the car for an hour or so having coffee, listening to the music, then breakfast (almond butter sandwich and apple). I got to the dance floor about 7:30 and did some little-tiny dancing at the back of the floor. I hung out with Jimi and Angela and Sean. The usual good scene. Finally it was 11:30 and time for the class.

The topic was psychedelic healing in PTSD and at the end of life. I taught from the perspective of, we’ve all been enlightened, even if just for a few hours, and therefore we should… reach beyond ourselves, live fully, reach out to others, those sorts of things. We discussed the mechanics and underlying process of MDMA-assisted psychotherapy and I contrasted that with my experiences treating people with PTSD with SSRIs. Most people in the class have had experience with psychedelics and MDMA – and some were having an experience at that moment. It was a relaxed and intense class, very open, good response and discussion. Sweet interactions afterwards. By the end of the class there were 18-20 people there. Interactions before, during, and after the class were very affirming for me.

After class and hanging out in the dome, I walked back to the main stage, where I spent a few moments with Tyson and David Brown who was getting ready for his set. Then back to the car and away, stopping at the gate to talk with Keith and Amber. Home at four, tired, feeling good.

A lot has happened in the last few months, and at the same time, I realize that Jean and I are both tired after the last “trying” year. I’ll write about some of these events in no particular order.

Jean has six pieces in a major show (Off the Wall: American Art to Wear) at the Philadelphia Museum of Art. We went to the opening – a true gathering of her tribe. The work of Jean and her friends and colleagues from Pratt like Janet, Marika, and Sharron was seminal in the art to wear movement. This was the biggest show they have had – a great honor for them and for Julie, the collector and gallery owner whose collection comprised the show. There were artist and family gatherings around the opening. It was a beautiful and affirming celebration and I met some of Jean’s family and colleagues who I hadn’t previously known.

Jean and I, Janet and Peter, and Marika and Tom stayed together in an AirBnB in a transitional Philadelphia neighborhood. It wasn’t a great place, but was okay – until I got sick (GI) the night before we left. It was a long night. Jean and I took a train from Philadelphia to New York City. That journey is a blur to me, except I know at one point I was in a wheelchair. When we got to Penn Station in NYC we walked up to the street to catch a cab to Grand Central Station from whence we would catch a train to up-state New York to visit Jean’s sister. Unfortunately for us, the Veteran’s Day parade was blocking all cross-town traffic, so back down (and up and back down) we went to catch a subway to Grand Central. Our stuff got really heavy by the time we got through the right turnstiles, but we made it to Grand Central. Security guy told me I couldn’t sit on the floor. Oh Lord, trudge trudge. Finally on the train for a two hour trip and there we were on a cold, windy platform in small town New York. Sue pulled up less than a minute after we arrived and away we went to her and John’s farm. That night Jean got sick with same thing I had. We were sleeping in a loft with a chamber pot. I couldn’t make this stuff up. Jean moved downstairs to a couch. After two nights we split to go to NYC to spend a night in a hotel before moving on to Jean’s niece’s Hoboken brownstone. We slept in Anne’s bedroom on the third floor trudge trudge up some mighty steep stairs.

The high point for me was a meal with Arthur at our favorite Hoboken restaurant – La Isla, a Cuban place with everyone stuffed into counter and tables, coats and hats. I remember when the “Marielitos” came from Cuba – another very interesting group of refugees to resettle. Finally we were on the plane

to Dallas. After a couple of days in Dallas, Jean was ready to go back to Berkeley (she had not fully recovered quickly) and away she went, while I stayed in Dallas to go to the previously described gathering. Tomorrow I’m headed back to Berkeley. Whew! What a trip!

Something I neglected to write about several months ago was that we went to Montana to spend time with Jean’s friends, Jim and Chris from long ago in Wyoming. We stayed in a cabin (the “fishing shack”) on their property on Flathead Lake. Courtney was there, too, staying across the road, past the orchard.

We spent several days in Glacier National Park – at last!

David is teaching full-time at UC Berkeley School of Law. My son, the professor! For me, this means far fewer trains to San Francisco for lunch with David. Instead of 7 bus to downtown Berkeley, BART to The City, and MUNI to the Castro to meet up for lunch. Now, it’s 7 bus to downtown and then walk across campus to David’s office. My whole life I’ve loved being around universities. And here I am, on one of the world’s greatest campuses. I like to walk through the Physical Sciences building. My peeps.

I had lunch with David’s friend, Chris. He told me about his family, his work, and he told me that I had been a positive influence in his childhood and a role model in his adult life as a husband and father. That was another deeply appreciated affirmation.

Jean and I have a new custom: most mornings one of us lies on our back between the other’s legs, with head on the other’s chest. Then it’s 15 minutes of shoulder, neck, and head massage.

Morning has broken…

One of the lines from one of the songs of our life: “…for I will never grow so old again.” Reflecting on this profound thought that I will never grow so old as I was in those terrible dark days of grief.

This bold leap into openness when we each said, “I’ll love again.”

Reality is, one of us will die first, leaving the other alone. We’ve both been left before. We know the pain. Intimately. If I’m the one left behind, I know I’ll never have another love like what I’ve had with Leslie and with you, Jean. And if I pass first, I know what I’m saying is generally true for you. The fact of love is comfort to me – that love exists in the universe. The fact of having loved and been loved. I am fulfilled.

I’ll be exhausted again. In pain again. Sad again. Alone again. But never so old, so desolate again. Soaring high on love. What a life.

I’ve turned inward these past few months. Heart issues take up psychic and physical energy. I wore a mini-Holter monitor for several weeks and my suspicions of occasional episodes of arrhythmia were correct. So I have paroxysmal atrial fibrillation, which is barely in the same universe as persistent AF, such as Jean had. I also have an aortic aneurysm, but it’s small and stable and asymptomatic. Still, it gets my attention. I’m on all the right meds, several of which tend to cause a decrease in energy. Those meds + age + the exertions of the last year lead to decreased energy for me. I am, nevertheless, doing very well.

Our relationship brings great joy to both of us… passion, excitement, adventure, comfort, succor,

rest. These are the days of the endless summer. Now it seems my heart may take me Onward, To My Noble Death. I had long expected I would die from cancer, now it seems that heart disease will be the more likely cause of death. In a sense I welcomed that one last battle. There is also the thing of last things to say, last chances for healing, and so on. But sudden it may be. I’m comforted by my ongoing effort to stay current: living as fully as possible, nothing left unsaid, no forgivenesses pending, all those things.

Other sort of side issues include: since the Marine Corps, I have operated as if I have no limits (obviously, there have been situations in which I couldn’t keep going – my knee giving out 2/3 of the way down the Grand Canyon comes to mind). Now, pushing myself physically has resulted in AF several times, so take it easy, sit down, take a rest. Also, I can’t take ibuprofen or other NSAIDs because I’m taking an anticoagulant drug. This matters because I have some pains and NSAIDs are more effective than acetaminophen.

Somewhere along the line in these months, Jean had another cardioversion. Chinh came in to do the anesthesia – such comfort to Jean (and me). He gave her the propofol and said, “Jean. Jean.” Her eyelids twitched, so he gave her a little more. “Jean, Jean.” No response. “Okay,” he says, stepping back. “She’s under.” A resident pushed the button to give her the shock. She bounced and her heart went back into rhythm. RRR ever since.

We were in Dallas and drove by where Leslie and I worked during the Cambodian years 1980-1985. The apartment buildings are being torn down. So many memories. Faces, sounds, smells, tears, strength, real struggles.

We drove to Coloma to visit Jean’s friend, Lisa, who had a two week artist’s residency at a gallery there. We had dinner with Lisa in Coloma and then drove to a cabin in the Sierra foothills on the American River (as it turns out, ½ mile from where gold was first discovered in 1849). The second day, PG&E cut the power to that part of California because of fire hazard. It was cold and dark and we had a good time. We ate breakfast in the warmest place around – the car, packed up and took off.

We went to a big wedding on a farm in Sonoma. It was great fun, good food, lots of nice people. Afterward we went to Hobe and Jennifer’s home, hidden away among the hills and trees near Point Reyes. In the morning I could hear something rustling around outside. It was bats – countless bats – darting every which way, coming home to roost under the eaves after a long night of catching bugs! Breakfast at the table in the kitchen/living room. A little banjo music. Good times.

We drove up the coast near Jenner to spend the night with Kristina and Fritz. Jean and I slept on a futon on the floor of the living room. In the morning I was fixing coffee looking into the living room at Jean and Kristina came into the room and got in bed with Jean to snuggle. Sweet.

We went with Courtney to a Fiber Shed event on a farm somewhere in Sonoma. Almost everyone there was involved in some way with natural fibers – weavers, flax farmers, shepherds (really), and so on. with great (and in some cases, weird) food, good music, and at the end, Deep Magic from Dancing Earth, an indigenous dance troop. This was the first time I ever was truly turned on by dancing. I don’t know how to describe it except to say it was really real, really intense, and very beautiful. We were inspired to go to another Dancing Earth performance with Susan a few weeks later in the Mission (occupied Ohlone territory). Soooo San Francisco: BART from Berkeley to Mission and 24^th, hanging out at Café Le Boheme, walking up the sidewalk for a pipe, serious opening ceremony, deep dancing.

All my life I am grateful for these days of Deep Magic.