The flight
home was easy and on time. The plane had plenty of empty seats with the seat
next to me being one of them. I watched 4 movies on the 10 hour trip to Dallas
where I switched planes for a short hop to Houston. Everything went smoothly.
It’s already
been a week. It goes without saying that Jet lag has had me on a roller coaster
ride of energy levels and mood swings but it hasn’t been too bad. Naturally, I’ve
already begun to fall into the same old patterns as always but it feels
different. I shopped an estate sale this morning, just one, in search of a
little inventory. My heart wasn’t into it and I was off my game which equaled missed
opportunities as a buddy scored big. I would have been better off staying home.
The old patterns are not bad patterns, they’re just limiting.
I guess I
halfway went to simply run into a few familiar faces on the circuit of buying
and selling old stuff. I stood in the shade of a large stunted palm tree with a
small group. A light breeze helped as we were all trying to escape the near 90
degree heat with high humidity at nine thirty in the morning waiting for the
sale to open at 10. Steve and I talked vintage audio. Brian, a half way retired
photographer, talked about shooting an Indy car race. Two unfamiliar faces were
there to buy a comic book collection of 4,000 at a bargain basement price. A
record guy I only see occasionally asked what I thought the records would be
like judging by the photos. Everyone commented how the summer was hot but not
as bad as other summers.
After 4
months of being out of the pickin game coupled with a lukewarm interest I didn’t
really have much of a chance. I didn’t buy much and really felt like I should
have been doing something else.
Whatever one
puts their energy into is what one becomes. When I travel I’m Todd the “World
Traveler”. When I dive into my usual work I’m Todd “The Picker”, a modern day
term for those of us who buy and sell antiques and collectibles. There is only
so much time in the day and what we immerse ourselves in can have a profound effect
on shaping our life.
So, what if
I were to take a gamble of sorts by suspending who I currently am to make way
for what I can become. In other words, suppose I were to dust off repressed
talents and prioritize things a little differently. How is that I can
effortlessly lace up my shoes and go for a run on a daily basis while I put off
writing for another day or let a year pass without learning at least a few
words of French. Change and re-prioritization can be very difficult when one’s
current circumstances are not bad. Habit locks one in. The questions to ask
are, “Is this it?”, or, “Can I do better?”.
In some ways
I feel a subtle buzz of sorts. It’s partly due to the fact that I just got
finished traveling for almost 4 month and partly due to an exciting realization
that I’m actually in the process of turning the page and starting a new chapter
in life. The hardest part is letting go of familiarity and all of it’s
comforts. It’s very easy for me to do when I travel but at home it’s a challenge.
Sometimes it’s necessary to simply hang it out there for a while. However, you
have to stick with it over period of time to really give it a chance, to see
what happens. You never know who you might meet or what doors may open.
I spent my
last two days of travel in London. On the final day I met up with the wife of a
friend who passed two years ago.
Erik was
someone I knew while attending the Evergreen State College in the late 1980’s.
For about a year we hung out a lot. We played in a band together, spent time on
his boat, went out for live music, etc. etc.,. He was an incredibly creative
person who I shared time with during the most creative period of my life. There
were many philosophical conversations on the twice weekly drives to a house on
a lake for band practice with two others. We only played original material and the chemistry
between the 4 of us was exceptional for music. Two of the guys were totally committed
to giving it a go. Erik and I were kind of half in, half out. The band didn’t
last but I often wondered what would have happened given the explosion of
attention the Olympia/Seattle area got in the early 1990’s. It will forever be
a question in my mind as I was too young at the time to realize how rare it is
to be in such a creative collective. Anyway, Erik was a big part of it and he
played the Saxophone.
It was no
surprise that his wife Kylie would be an absolute pleasure to meet. We met in Hyde
Park and had a drink by a pond. She knows several mutual friends through Erik
that I’ve long lost track of. We caught up on a lot. In bits and pieces she
told me of Erik’s 4 year struggle with complications following surgery to
remove a brain tumor that turned out to be benign. It was not without symptoms
and something had to be done. The dark segments of description were broken by
funny stories of Erik and his unique inspiring way of looking at life.
When I asked
Kylie about Erik’s Saxophone she said she still had it and no one was
interested. I expressed interest. For me it’s one of those items that represent
a lot. It’s an item from a time lost that reminds me of what could have been
while inspiring me to somehow pick up where I left off to be better creatively
than I ever was. Erik lived with eyes wide open. Listen to John Coltrane or
Charlie Parker. The music is out there with all sorts of bent tones on a wild
ride that always comes back to a perfect rhythm. The music is a little off center
but right on time. It travels to outer space exploring new possibilities. A
single note falls out of a clever reed and skips over triplets for an experimental
ride that oddly but perfectly expands possibility. Inspiring and refreshing. That
was Erik. His term for it was, “Shang a Lang”.
On my way to
Heathrow to catch my flight I switched trains twice on the tube before meeting
Kylie with the Saxophone. She spent the morning digging it out so I could bring
it back home as a carry on. With watery eyes she passed it my way. I asked if it
was ok. She said it was. I felt her emotion to be part of the process of
letting go and moving on. I assured her I would take care of it and keep it in
the archives. For me it’s a powerful symbol and an appropriate one at that. After
all these years what are the odds that Erik’s Saxophone would arrive in my
hands as I stand in a position of realignment. What timing……. 
