It’s been six months since the tour has ended and five
months since I have been home. Without
wasting a moment, I hit the ground running. The first morning I woke up back in my own bed, I was
off. Made breakfast, grabbed my
bike and set sail in search of a job.
I had been in touch with old work associates and bosses from the days
with the city. It wasn’t what I
wanted to go back to. Our hope was
to raise enough money on the road to work on the film and books for at least
half the year. That didn’t happen,
obviously. RISE made just enough
to complete the tour and get us back home-with a tiny bit of change left
over. Despite my pre-tour feeling,
going back to the city was a safe bet.
Safe
bets aren’t always the right way…then again, is there a right way? Some presume. These days, I don’t want to be one of those people. The tour taught me that much. Homecoming was interesting. It drudged up a lot of emotional
content that was very much apart of the shadow side of my ego. What I mean was, the victim
aspect of said ego was quit disappointed in turn out. I know, poor little me, always the victim. In truth, the people that I shared
space with in the two weeks after my arrival were the ones I was supposed to
spend time with. Now, I’m not
saying it was preordained, but life is one big divine sonnet being sung into
existence.
Truth
be told, the only thing to be expected was that life would be different. Of course I changed while out on the
road, but so did everyone else.
Did I really believe that people looked at me as some kind of hero,
anticipating my return with the intention for a grand parade? Get real. No one cares. I
was just a man living my life. All
those I left behind, well, that’s all they were doing. I can’t speak for anyone else,
and I don’t want to be the asshole assuming. I’ve played that part before, and I’m sure I’ll do it again;
today, I chose a different role.
I’ll just tell you about Thomas Brown, and the man who returned home to
phoenix.
People
ask me, “How was the tour?” To be
honest, answering that question is the most difficult task in the process of
the journey. How do I
explain it? How do I emote how the
experience has changed me? At this
space and time, it seems much too impossible of a feat to attempt. So I stare blankly at people, while
fumbling over my words. It’s frustrating, because I do want to share. I need to share. I don’t want to wait for a probable
future speaking engagement. I
don’t want to wait to put it into a book that someone may or may not read. I want to share its personal truth with
the people I know.
It
is because of this inability to share, that I must admit, has created a
dramatic disconnect between what I have known as friends and myself. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but
there is this intensity that continues to flow through me. The world that I walk through, the
world that I see is completely different from the world I knew on Saturday,
February 25th, 2012.
The answer is simple, the world I walk through…the world I see…it is different,
simply, because I am different.
I
recently spoke with a friend I met while on the road. Stephanie Sammuels, our New Jersey Jewish mother, and now
the patron saint of RISE travelers, filled me in on her perspective of who
Thomas seems to be. She told me,
while I was staying with her and her family, that I had that 100-yard
stare. Though physically present,
and polite, I was detached and focused. Being thankful for the grace given to us by The
Sammuels clan, yet not allowing myself to get to close. The mission was still at hand. I suppose she was right, and is still
very correct. I feel that demeanor
is still very much a part of me.
Somewhere,
deep in my core, the road is still with me…the mission is still beating within
me. As I went dormant after my
return in terms of RISE, it seems the dragon has awoke from its slumber. I do have a mission; it is a mission
without end. It is a mission that
may just be a lifestyle. There is
a path that I have ignored for far too long. It is the path, my soul yearns for, but my ego has been too
frightened to walk. Frightened,
because it is a path that will contain extreme moments of solitude.
This
path was introduced to me when Marc died, but I lacked the courage to step away
from the life I knew, no matter how toxic it was for me. The road I walk is one of self
reflection. It is a path of
humility and spiritual renewal. It
is no way a place of perfection or mastery; but a place eternal exploration and
evolution. Though I have an
outline of the process, I understand the need for malleable flexibility. RISE was the doorway to returning to
this path that I ignored eleven years ago. It is beyond the concept of suicide. Suicide is just the symptom of a
greater problem. My path will run parallel
with that larger issue.
There
is no projected outcome; there are only levels of growth. Like a fractal, there is no true
beginning as well as no end. I don’t
expect anyone to understand. This
blog post isn’t meant to lift a veil.
I’m not here to be a wise teacher.
My purpose is to play a part in the great drama of existence. Anyone that may learn or be inspired
through witnessing me, do with it what you will. I promise to do the same. I walk through this world as an equal to all I encounter. I walk with purpose. I walk to be a part of something great
than I am, as I walk as myself. No
matter what happens tomorrow, I will walk…with the intention to never stray
again.
