Meeting The Future Of My Dreams

The following is an excerpt from a collection of memories I wrote down in 2003. This piece tells the story of how Tania and I met, and how our relationship began in 1986/87.

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I was in a dark hole. In my mind I often picture the year 1985 as this big dark hole. So many things happened that year which shaped my future life, but what really happened is I got stripped down until I was raw, and I looked at myself and what I saw I didn’t like. I knew I needed to turn this around.

How do these changes, these re-creations of our heart happen? Some moments are so crystal clear in their abruptness you know you’ve changed. Some moments wash over you like a slow tide of a long season before the harvest of change comes. I believe in change. I believe people can change. And somewhere in the dark hole of 1985 a change started in me.

I threw away pages of really bad, angry poetry. I got a job as a teller at a bank. I listened to lots of gothic music. I was tall, rail thin, chalk white, with hair that was ratted on top of my head.

I would go to the local Winchell’s Donut Shop when I got home from my teller job for my evening cup of coffee. One day in September of 1986, I saw a very beautiful girl behind the counter. We started talking about working at the donut shop. I had worked there a year earlier as a late night baker for about 3 months. It was the longest amount of time I held a job during that year.

Tania

As we talked I found out her name, that she was out of cigarettes, and she was at the beginning of her shift. When I left the donut shop I walked to the nearby Thrifty Drugstore and bought her a pack of her brand of cigarettes (Marlboro Light 100’s). I came back, walked past the line of people and laid them on the counter. I pushed the pack across to her and said, “Here you go…Tania,” making sure to pronounce her name correctly, which so many people don’t. Then I went home.

I thought about her a lot, making many trips to the donut shop for coffee in the following weeks. I found out she had a boyfriend, and I wasn’t going to interfere with that. Not again.

I just came in with my poems, which had started to get better, and tapes of my music. We talked and smoked cigarettes along with her friend Jamie who worked there with her. Jamie was her best friend at the time. Sometimes we’d all go in the back room and get stoned, then just hang out some more. We became good friends very quickly.

Tania was only 17 at the time, and I was 22, but she was just as old as I was. We both had been spending the last few years doing the same drugs, having similar experiences, just in different crowds.

We spoke the same language, but only in the way that meeting your other half makes a language like no other.

It was only a month later that Tania got rid of her boyfriend, and asked me out. That was October 12, 1986 – From that moment onward, life became amazing.

Some people are just meant for each other, and this was just one of those things. God made me for Tania and He made Tania for me. I’m sure there are lots of perfect fits like ours out there in the world…

Because we were in Irvine, California we found each other. Our families traveled great distances over time to bring us together.

Tania’s dad’s family left Belgium the same time my parents left Illinois (1952) and settled in the same year in the same town in Southern California (Pasadena).

Over the next 35 years our families wandered around Southern California until the necessary pieces fell into place and brought us together in Irvine, where we could meet in a little donut shop.

Memories

Wonderful memories about the beginning of our relationship that I cherish:

It was a full moon that first night; we watched a cat stumble through the street and get sick; we made love in the parked car for the first of many times together.

We were together from the word go. We both knew it and made it special. We made it more important than anything else, and when Tania said she was going to Minneapolis, I asked if I could go. Of course she said yes.

Before Tania, art was just an idea, a concept out of reach, but she made it real to me. Creativity sparked immediately when we came together.

I compiled a collection of all the music I had been working on in a project called Eccentric Activities.

I started collecting my poems and then a friend wanted to publish them as a book, which he did, and it was called “I’d Like To Live That Kind Of Life.”

I had a Yamaha scooter we’d go for cruises on, zipping down to Newport Beach to our pot lady, who was the mellowest, sweetest lady in the world with a goof of a husband and two great kids.

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We would sit for hours on my front porch, smoking Marlboro Light 100’s one after another and talking, drinking coffee, and getting stoned.

We sat there, collecting our cigarette butts in coffee cans, discussing everything. We read Kurt Vonnegut books out-loud to each other. We talked about change. We talked about God.

in the beginning

We started building a sculpture, a tower, out of our collected cigarette butts. We made colored glue with Elmer’s glue and food dye. We added odd trinkets to it, like you get out of gumball machines. We would only allow our own cigarette butts. No one else could contribute. We were all about us.

When we left for Minnesota in August, 1987, our sculpture was nearly four feet tall.

Photos of Cigarette Sculpture – 1987

28 Years of Love!

Adding another photo to our annual Anniversary Day post…

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Above –  In Joshua Tree National Park at Cap Rock honoring Gram Parsons on September 19, 2014.

The Jon and Tania Story – In 29 Photos!

We started going out on October 12, 1986, got married on October 12, 1992 (our sixth anniversary) and now 28 wonderful years have gone by…

To celebrate our Anniversary, here’s a gallery of photos of us together from 28 years of love – From 1987 until now, with each photo representing one year of the journey.

These Best Moments

I wrote this poem during the month after Tania and started going out. I remember it was composed in the early hours of the morning in a deep state of intuition.

The poem is a very accurate picture of our life now, after 28 years, much more than when I wrote it in November of 1986.

Fun Fact – I read this poem as part of our wedding ceremony in Big Sur on October 12, 1992  –

These Best Moments

It was a time to enjoy the best moments of our lives,
and everyday was something new.

We saw ideas:
dreams became real.

With these ideas came new hopes,
possibilities,
different avenues of expression.

Is this real? Should I even ask?

We’ve seen strange twists,
each for the experience, rich and cherished.

Content on pursuit,
following dreams,
knowing the creation of reality.
All at our grasp.

Developed in the light of patience:
savoring private moments:
anonymity.

Still standing with one foot in what they say is real.

More moments will come,
and we enjoy the moments that have been,
content.

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Above – Scan of the original notebook page from November, 1986.

Gallery of Moments

A Consciousness Vehicle – Imagination and Reality

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Above: The Blue Pilgrim by Jon Christopher

A Consciousness Vehicle

Last week I posted this question on Facebook:

Want to change your perspective for a moment? Realize that every single person around you is a consciousness inhabiting a physical body – a consciousness vehicle. Most people believe they are the vehicle. They are not the vehicle… they are either the driver or a passenger.

This idea came from an article I had read called Jon Rappoport’s Talk On The Trickster-God And Creating Reality on The Mathisen Corollary, a blog I came across while looking up something unrelated. Here is a quote from Jon Rappoport’s talk:

Something impossible is happening here right now.

Your brain is made out of the same particles mine is, same as the chair is, same as that camera, same as her lipstick, same as that strap, same as that thing you’re wearing, a bracelet.

It’s all the same particles. Brain? Same particles…

So by conventional physics (materialism, that’s the philosophy aspect of it) there’s no possible way that I could be talking and you could be sitting there understanding what I’m saying.

But yet, it’s happening! Impossible!

Therefore . . . you’re not material. Hate to break it to you. Neither am I. We’re inhabiting these things, but we’re not material.

These things are material, but we’re not . . . and we possess this capacity to understand each other.

Yes, the physical vehicle has a part to play, in the theatrical this and the that and the blueah-yuh-yuh-yuh, but that’s it.

The actual understanding is non-material.

source: http://mathisencorollary.blogspot.com/2014/07/jon-rappoport-trickster-god-and.html

Imagination and Reality

I followed that up with a post along the same lines this week:

Where Does “Reality” Come From? The Wellspring Of Creativity, I Imagine…

re·al·i·ty | noun
1. the world or the state of things as they actually exist, as opposed to an idealistic or notional idea of them.
2. the state or quality of having existence or substance.

I would like to suggest that the world of human civilization we experience on a daily basis – what most people think of as reality – is the product of human imagination. If you live in a city, stop and look around yourself for a moment – can you find one thing that is where it is which isn’t the result of someone’s imagination? Even where nature is allowed to exist in a city is based on someone’s imagination, ideas, and plans.

I would also like to suggest that imagination (along with choice) is one of the most powerful forces an individual possesses. The things we imagine today WILL become the reality of tomorrow.

The life Tania and I have now, living in the hi-desert in a jackrabbit homestead cabin, is the result of years of imagining the future – and now we live it. It took time (and plans and hard work) for the imagination to manifest itself in “reality”, but here we are… and that’s a pretty powerful realization to both of us.

Of course, the downside to this powerful realization is that if you don’t imagine your own future, someone else will do it for you… and you probably won’t like it.

My current working model of reality: We are immaterial beings of consciousness inhabiting physical bodies manifesting our imagination into material realities.

Here’s a link (with a quote) to an article by Jon Rappoport which relates to these ideas:

The Creative Center Of The World

…Art is not a little sandbox. Fueled by liberated imagination, it is THE revolution the psyche has been asking for.

When one acts long enough, he realizes that the world could really be a stage, and the sound and fury would, in fact, signify something vital and deep.

When one paints long enough, he realizes this world and all the universe are but one painting out of an infinity of possible paintings.

When one writes long enough, he realizes that so-called history is but one story—and many other (better) stories could be told.

When one plays music long enough, he realizes that emotion can be lifted out of petty concerns into realms where feeling becomes vast triumph.

When one builds long enough, he realizes that the physical structure of civilization can be led out of mere functionality into dazzling new spaces.

This is where we could go. And the stars in space would pale by comparison…

link: http://jonrappoport.wordpress.com/2014/01/12/the-creative-center-of-the-world/

Also, here’s a link to more information about the painting at the top of this page: http://onehumanbeing.com/portfolio/paintings/line-abstracts/

Until later, best of health.