A Weekend that Spilled Over

 Life is too full sometimes. Market last week was perfect in so many ways, but that part that is not visible on Saturdays to most people is still operating even while we pretend otherwise. Another member was punished in a secret process that resulted in a suspension of selling rights. In the past we protected selling rights for everyone not involved in a serious crime, recognizing that not only is that our main mission and reason for existing, to provide selling space for our members, but that our members have the right to a fair and reasonable process for the times they do make mistakes or get caught up in something that curtails other members' rights. In this Punishment Era, things move swiftly with some people having already predetermined the guilt and outcome before everyone has the chance to participate in a process that honors everyone involved. People make mistakes. They still deserve respect and finding solutions that won't just make things worse. That was increasingly Then and this is disappointingly Now. 

I was trying to explain our traditional culture to someone who hasn't been seeing it, which is a sad part of my present as I feel somewhat sure it is lost in so many ways. Many of us who carry it forward are not being able to convey it, with the false narratives and the short-sighted actions of others who are dominating the org right now. After yesterday I feel more compelled to ramp up fighting for it. I remember that I made a promise to Lotte to bring her legacy forward, and I can't let that drop.  

It was a life-affirming day though, perfect weather and lots of appreciative participants of every kind. I rode home much lighter and had an event to be at by 7:00 pm, which is generally when I get finished, but I ended up having plenty of time to walk down there and enjoy it in a relaxed way. I was so glad I made the effort. A delightful friend launched her book with a layered experience that she had lined up for all of us. She brilliantly staged the violin, drums and recorders, as well as a second poet and a dancer, all around the audience so we felt asked to be part of things, not just observers of them. She even had a comment period at the end where many of us spoke our appreciation and reflections of her nuanced expressions. It was lovely and I walked home with a smile and some cookies that made up for the fact that I had been too busy at the market to get my usual cookies for the week. I'm savoring them slowly.

Sunday was quiet dishwashing time until I went to a memorial for my dear friend George, a 50-year friend who, as it turns out, I knew much less of than I thought. He was revealed as a person who made a special connection with all of us, so that we knew how much we had to contribute and felt honored and supported to do that. His legacy was so strong that it will persist as not many individuals will after their bodies are used up. The stories were not enough, just glimpses, and we had cards to write more for a book I can't wait to read. Still we won't hear everything. I won't tell everything I know, though I've written about our friendship before over the years and may still have more to say.

I remembered that he had built me my first bike cart! I had forgotten that I asked him to do that after my idea for a cart that would make itself into a booth didn't really work out in 1976. He welded me up an aluminum and steel very serviceable cart I used for years. Since I still or again bike to the market, which I have done for the majority of my time selling, his support created a lasting planetary effect. We saved thousands of gallons of fossil fuels over my 51-year retail lifespan. And of course there were ripples. 

I was kind of in the fringes of his big circle but I was his signpainter and screenprinter for most of our history, and he was my longest collaborator. No one really spoke about the fabulous treehouse which is painted like a Romany wagon in the sky, which I painted a lot of gold One-Shot onto, twice. He let me choose the designs and set me free. The first time it took 80 hours and we hadn't discussed money, so I made myself charge him $10 an hour even though that sounded outrageous, and as usual, he never questioned my bill. The second time was just a couple of years ago and a lovely space of time when I was at his house daily watching and being in his life, a time I will treasure. I did it for the cost of materials, so free. I was honored to do that. I was paid in a few peaches, some glorious summer days and a peaceful, enriching space in my life for my memory bank.

To me we had a deep love without attachment or expectations, which is the ideal I reach for in relationships, just love, no complications. No desire, no suffering, the space to disagree or adjust to events and still love. It prompted me to share with a friend who agreed..."I will never be mad at you." Could be true, and if we say it out loud like that there is a bigger chance we can keep it true. I've talked about being lifetime friends with a few people and it didn't always hold, although since life is not over, and distance is allowed, those statements of trust might still hold firm. I suppose they are as firm as my ability to hold compassion and forgiveness and hope. I think we're good there.

I generally need a non-verbal day on Sundays so I faded out of the parties before saying proper goodbyes and missed speaking with a few loved ones, but I'll take the next chance to make sure they know I learned something from George and from Kelly. I'm not a natural collaborator...too impatient for the work to get done and laughably selfish and attached to pride in productive work. But they always show me how, by example, and in George's case, he spread that so thickly in his world that it isn't going to be even faded for some time. I got some gladiolus bulbs to plant from their generous sharing so I'll have one more tangible thing left. We will all have many tangible leftovers from his walk among us. 

I still have room and I hope, time, to improve and plan to work at it. As I am capable of doing less physically, I can do more in other ways to make sure my work is honorable, less selfish, and more thoughtful of others. I got lucky when we sat at that poker table so many years ago, and our magnetic attraction had a place to start. We were six months apart, a Scorpio and a Taurus with Scorpio rising, and I believe we harnessed that well. Mostly because of how he challenged me to learn and try, and how he honored me with his trust and support. Even when we disagreed we could see that it hadn't shaken our basis. 

I didn't know he had said goodbye to me but now I see that he had, one day at the market, and if I look back in my journal I'll bet I knew it then. His last few years included a fragility so I knew every time was precious, however brief. He's really my first big friendship loss, not the first loss of course, but the biggest. When I learned he had died I dreamed I was riding on the back of his motorcycle off into wherever, and truthfully, I think I would have followed him anywhere. Along with a large crowd of what can only be described as "us."

He walked among us. Strong and humble, brave. Someone quoted him as saying "If the unknown scares you, get to know it." I'm just going to look forward to continuing to hear from him as he gently fades into whatever his project is at the moment. Making my gladiolus bloom I hope, in some surprising color.