she had cleaned out her sock drawer which had spawned the story and the painting 'the Sock Drawer'.
and now, she just couldn't make herself throw out that large green garbage bag of very expensive undies. there were lacy Cosabella bras and undies in there for god's sake. you don't throw Cosabella in the trash-no matter how many years they had lain in your sock drawer. and she was a bit timid of unloading the frothy bundle to Goodwill-wouldn't they look at her funny as if to say, we don't take UNDERWEAR lady---so the large green garbage bag of socks, fishnet tights, shoes, undies, and lacy bras and such stayed in the trunk of her car for months, spreading ever bigger in an array of mesh and spandex and silk and color.
she wondered why it was so difficult to figure out what she was supposed to do with the load, but soon gave up trying to figure it out, as figuring out stuff was less and less important to her. things just worked themselves out, and she was just the boxcar in the scheme of things.
so down to Fort Bragg she went, to relax and look at the ocean. on the first morning there she makes her way to the Eggheads, the restaurant that would make her move to that town, if anything would. the crab was outstanding.
as she heads down the main street, she spies a man hitchhiking on the opposite side going in the opposite direction. she takes a few seconds, driving several blocks, before her spirit moves her to turn around, go back, and pull over to where he stood. she knows that she wouldn't be able to eat her expensive crab without inviting this stranger to join her. she trusts her work and practice more and more until it became the norm.
she leaned out to him, i am not going in that direction but would you like to have breakfast with me? he said yes.
for the next hour they discussed life, and the happiness of pursuit. and what it was like for him to be homeless. homeless was a word he used. she preferred instead to ask the question- how much does one need, at any given time, in ones's hand? her egO was struggling in her harness- wanted to tell him that he lives in abundance, he didn't see it that way.
her work. her practice. all creatures. the same. giving and receiving. the same. with a sigh her egO self went back and put her own collar back on.
she offered him the shower in her hotel room. he said no thanks, as he had no clean clothes, which she saw for herself. she said, lets go get you a clean shirt.
they walk to a men's store and check out the duds. new underwear, a pair of dungarees, a well made t shirt, and flannel shirt, and a heavy lined vest for warmth. she hands over a money that doesn't actuality exist, except for the moment it brings warmth and a fresh feeling after a bath. she leaves him with his new clothes and time to enjoy his shower.
they trade email addys and he goes on his way. the coat that he had been wearing was left with her, and tho she considered throwing it away, she sighed, she added it to the pile in stuff in the big green garbage bag. she trusted her intuition instantly when her spirit told her, nope. this will come in handy somehow.
the next day she spends her last few hours picking up sea glass on sea glass beach. she comes across Mocha, the longhaired chihuahua, with the stumpy front leg. along with her owner, and about 9 others of every age shape and color on their way to a pot farm in Northern Cali called Mad River. she had never heard of Mad River. she noticed that Mocha was struggling to walk with the stumpy foot and was hampered by the heavy collar and long leash that was tethered to her neck. she picked up and carried the dog. as she said goodbye to Mocha, along with the group huddled around the van, the little dog turns and gives her the look. oh god, don't do it her practical self says. you can't save everyone. as she drove away she passes a large pet store. she was NOT stopping, she needed to head home. she drives another 5 blocks and then with a loud GodDAMmit! she turns around just like the day before and goes back. she buys Mocha the chihuahua a soft harness, more comfortable for the little mutt. and brings back some treats for her tho the dog prefers human food her owner said. as she leaves the group again, one of the young wild hippie children of the group yells out i love you! as she heads back to her car and her life. she had noticed that friendly young hippie girl was wearing a loose dress-obviously worn without any underwear. with determination, she once again turns back to her own life and heads back to her car.
wait a minute.
oh my god. that's it. that's why she couldn't wouldn't COULD NOT throw away the huge bag of socks shoes, underwear, bras clothes and old jacket for the last 4 months from the trunk of her car. the reason why she had to turn around for the hitchhiking guy that first day. the reason she couldn't throw away the old jacket from him. the reason why Mocha the chihuahua with the stumpy foot looked at her with a nudge to her spirit. the reason why she went to the beach town in the first place on the spur of the moment. the reason why her life was now about giving away what she had, in any form, time, or effort. she was saving no one. she was saving her self. the spirit had always always always won out and showed her the way.
she went back one more time to that van filled with a bunch of young wild people on their way to a pot farm in Mad River. with a big grin and her large green garbage bag filled with abundance.