Ten States. California, Oregon, Washington, Montana, Minnesota, Illinois, Virginia, Massachusetts, Maine and New Hampshire.
These are the places I have lived, both well and not-well financially.
Forty Four States. The only US states I have not been in are Hawaii, South Carolina, Alabama, Mississippi, Oklahoma and Kansas. I should really go to Kansas, as my patriarchal line spent several generations there and Grandpa Kingman was a Jayhawk.
I’ve stayed for several nights in one of the most beautiful castles in Tuscany and several nights in one of the poorest villages in Central America. And loved both.
My life is a veritable kaleidoscope of experiences. At any moment, the smallest of decisions can alter the path I take. The smallest sentence uttered by a stranger. The hesitation or lateness of a system, say, a plane or train journey. I do my best to live by an old Japanese saying: that every action has a reaction to the seventh generation. I do my best to keep this forefront as a living attitude, the “heads up display” for living.
I’ve mentioned many times the Greek philosopher Heroclitus, who stated the only constant in human experience is change. I’ve experienced so much that I claim that statement as carved in the heraldric.
I find that the sheer volume and depth of diverse experience steads me well, comparative to many others. I witness so many in this society tremble and crack over the small, over the insignificant. I ‘spose, this is what individuals, such as those who helped the Grand Explorers (de Leon, Colombus, Lewis & Clark), must have experienced, and that they too, upon return to “normal” society, turned a steady and patient, perhaps with a touch of scoffed amusement, eye to the seemingly, to society, significant travails of usual life.
This past week an unusual plethora of experiences swelled in abundance in my path. My horoscope for weeks has been predicting significant “sea changes”. Not to jinx, and only in oblique mention here, these changes, as predicted, run rampant with opportunities.
Always keep eye on the end goal. My great great uncle surveyed the Sante Fe Railroad. He drove several hundred hard men through the American Southwest, laying track and fighting Native Americans, the Mexican Army, another railroad and bandits for years. All he did, was put one foot in front of the other. And keep “rabbit ears” and “eagle eyes” in full employ.