Most folks around here…
“Prairie sky-scrapers”
- Clouds, windmill, and corn on a hot midwest day.
‘Most folks around here,’ he said, ‘are “GOOD people”’.
I remember this discussion. I was still quite young, only a boy, really. Not yet ‘worldly’, and although I had some trauma in my life, the love of my family and community, enabled me to maintain a sense of ‘self’ and a general optimism on life… although, at the time, I didn’t see this, or appreciate it as much I as I do now.
’Yep, this town is full of Good People’, he said.
The man I was speaking with was an older man, good of heart. I met him on a hot and humid day, about mid morning. I was about 2 hours into the day’s walk, having left town, and the last people I had known behind. Because of the rivers, and lack of bridges, I needed to stay on the paved road for a while, which meant having the steady flow of traffic always, ever so near me as I walked on the gravel beside the road.
The last people I had met, who offered me shelter and place to stay the previous night, had just bought me a hearty breakfast from a restaurant in town, and wished me well on my journey.
I met them in a very similar way.
I was walking, backpack on my back, and first real beard coming in, all ablaze with the ginger of my youth.
I was over 1,000 kilometres (approx 650 miles) and a few months from home. I left on a cold spring day, after an Easter morning breakfast. My Mom and my Dad both somberly waving to me, as I turned from them and set out on what was to become almost a year long, journey. My biggest yet, experiment with life.
Inspired by Nobel Prize winner, and American author John Steinbeck, and his travels with his dog ‘Charlie’ across his homeland, I too wanted to figure out what it meant to be who I am, and to understand what it means to be ‘an American’.
I had left, on foot, with this intention. I knew I needed to ‘figure things out’ and that if I didn’t, I might surely die.
“... all intentions, not fastened to action, are blown away by the winds of time.”
The man who I had just met had been driving from the country into the city for work. He had noticed me a few days ago, on his commute. And then again the next day, as I only was traveling about 20 miles a day in that early summer heat. Today was, for him, the third day in a row he had noticed me, and he wanted to know, as he said, ‘just what I was all about’.
I had learned, early on, that it is far safer to walk facing traffic. Not only because I could see what was coming my way, but also because this clearly distinguished myself from those hitch-hiking. I was clearly a walker, one who was traveling. One who was just passing through, and with a purpose.
I saw him coming. He was travelling east, as I walked to the west. He was driving a large American pick up truck. Rifle rack in the rear window. Windows open, taking in the clean (and still a little cooler) country breeze as he drove.
I was walking, walking sticks in hand, everything I owned on my back. A now tanned, and somehow energised man, lost in thought and feeling free, wanting to connect.
In his book, “Travels with Charlie”, Steinbeck wrote about his goal to understand his home, and what it meant to be ‘American’. He said, of this understanding that…
“If you understand each other, you will be kind to each other. Knowing [each other] well, never leads to hate, and almost always leads to love.”
I was, I think, on a journey to do this. To learn to see through the trappings of difference with those I met, and look for the connections. I wanted to learn to understand them, and through this, grow my connection, my kindness, my love for the ‘others’ I meet in the world.
“the view from the ridge’s crest”
Horizon lines, as one walks West
As we stood there, on the side of the road, he, on his way to work, and I on the road ‘to find out’, he asked me if I had anywhere to go that night. Realising that my days end of walking would be near where he lived, he offered me a place to stay the night.
For anyone who has been without a home, and on foot, you know a hot shower at the end of the day, and a home cooked meal, conversation, and not needing to find somewhere safe to sleep… well, you know that these are wonderful gifts. His offer definitely helped me feel connected to this heartland of America, and I very gratefully accepted.
That night, over dinner, he and his wife asked me, ‘aren’t you scared? You are out here, all alone… aren’t you scared of what could happen?’
And I don’t know… I was scared. But I was also equally hopeful that what connected us as Americans, as people, was stronger than our differences. I was, perhaps, even confident that this could bring us together, rather than divide us.
‘Sharing the secret fishing spot’
- A day someone took the day off work, to share an experience with a space ‘sacred’ to him
I had, already on my journey, been given so much generosity by those I met. Each, with their own story, and their own journey in life. Each different, and each the same.
This couple, that had taken me in, had grown up in the region, and raised their kids there. They were still working, but would, most likely, retire there, as a part of their community. In many ways, theirs was like the town where I grew up, in ‘middle America’.
My family was not wealthy, but we were rich in family and community. My Mom and my Dad were both teachers. My brother was studious, had strong friendships, and was athletic. Our Grandparents lived near by, and we visited Uncles, Aunties, and Cousins on a fairly regular basis too. My parents would celebrate with friends, and I grew to know what community felt like, as I could see all of those important aspects of community.
My home town was a small town, of about 2,000 people. We had a mixed economy of agriculture, industry, services, and trades. The people were, for the most part, ‘Good people’, regardless of their differences.
“finding patterns in the light’
Irrigation in the heartland
‘Aren’t you afraid?’ they asked.
I thought on this, and of the many Good people I had already met. And so I replied with a question, “Well, you two are GOOD people. I know this, from your generosity, and the values you clearly demonstrate in how you care for each other.'‘.
I paused… as I was sure I had struck on something I didn’t really yet understand, but felt with all my being.
‘And how would you describe the people in this town?” I asked.
The husband did not hesitate. He responded, ‘Most folks around here are GOOD people’.
I smiled, and told them of the people I stayed with the night before, a mere town away. And I asked again, ‘do you reckon’ those were also GOOD people?’
They already could see what I was saying. Without hesitation, they both replied, ‘yes, those are Good people’.
I asked then about the next town that I would go through, and to that, the same answer,
‘those people too, are good people’.
My understanding of the meaning that motivated my words was slowly arising. I let my thoughts speak. I wondered aloud if that isn’t actually how it is.
I wonder, even today, if it isn’t true, that every group when they see their similarities, can connect with and feel positive toward the ‘other’.
I realise that perhaps Steinbeck was right, that,
“If you understand each other, you will be kind to each other. Knowing [each other] well, never leads to hate, and almost always leads to love.”
I am now, many years later, still on an adventure. An experiment with life, learning about purpose and connection. And across those years and miles, I am more and more realising the connection I have with my family. How much my upbringing, my home town, my state, region, and country of origin has impacted on who I am.
And when I am at my most melancholy, it is when I think on how the GOOD people of America, indeed, perhaps the world, are loosing sight of the very connection that makes them amazing.
I desperately want to help Americans realise the insights that I gained. That within the multicultural group of people who call America, (let alone any ‘home country’) “HOME”, there are so many similarities, and things over which you could connect.
Through this connection, kindness can arise. A great test of this, is to see what is arising when you think of the other. Is it kindness? Then you are most likely onto something. You are most likely seeing the similarities, and the points of connection.
If, however, what arises for you is some feeling that is more judgemental… you are missing the connection, and should look harder.
Within the similarities of each of us are hidden some real insights.
I only hope America will walk a path toward finding these insights.
‘On the road to find out’
After thousands of miles, on foot, across America
Post script:
I’m left thinking that this pain for ‘the good old days’ that many in America on all sides of the political spectrum feel… that this longing for when America was respected and respectable, that this sense that we, as Americans, could do good in the world… that this sense of loss that both sides are saying that they feel… that this is the VERY PROOF that those things are Good, and SHARED, and, without a doubt, worth walking the long, and life changing, Insightful Path.
“Many a trip continues long after movement in time and space have ceased.”
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