BE AWARE OF THE TRAIL YOU ARE BLAZING or 4:20 FROM YUMA

I left Tucson, Arizona on Sunday morning, a day after my two new books signing and promo event at University of Arizona Campus, at the Little Chapel of All Nations, honoring the life of my two new books editor late Ken Bacher.

It would not be honest if I did not admit how full of myself I was while driving trough Marana, near Picacho Peak, and around Gila Bend, and how grateful I was that my Shambala amigo Ken’s and my work on first two parts of MOUNTING A TIGER trilogy came to a very fine fruition. I was happy how my dear Ken is glad from the sky above, and yes I was proud too. Looking at the endless blue sky, and hundreds of years old saguaro cactuses growing by the side of highway 8 West, I felt and enjoyed all I knew well is not kosher to let mind relish in … but I did it anyway. I deserved little mind amusement park attractions after hard work and Ken’s passing too. However I was not only sweet bathing in what happened at my two new books promo and lovely dinner after. I was even more so letting my ego amuse my awareness with what was ahead of me in golden state of California. The script of driving trough San Diego and going into the great Pacific on the beach at Cardiff-by-the-Sea, near Encinitas, was running not in HD, and not in IMAX, but in my ego mind total 4K (4096 x 2160) resolution. Enjoying that projection I saw clearly how I will take a photo of a sunset by mi Pacifico grande and text it to my latest infatuation, and how will I put one “me by the Ocean” selfie on Facebook also, maybe even with both of my new books in my hand.

Soon enough, and after blissful lotus eating 230 miles I arrived in Yuma, Arizona. It was just a bit after 12 noon when I stopped at the last pump exit on highway 8 West in Arizona. I always do that so I can get a tank full of gas that is $1 less per gallon in Arizona than in California. As Texans would say I “poured up” the high unleaded to the top of my Mila van’s tank, and then opened the hood to cool the Mila engine a bit more after it was running for longer that three hours perfectly, during entire hot road Sunday morning. Checked the fluids: motor oil was at 3/4, break fluid on full, transmission fluid as well and coolant/antifreeze extra was on 1/2. All perfecto! so I was proud of how good I take care of my Mila van engine also.

After having a cup of very special tea I carry with me at that gas station; and with Mila engine all cooled down I continued driving into border territory between Arizona and California. Already out of Arizona and past “Welcome to California” sign but before official Cali border check point I saw a little mirage over the right side of my Mila van’s hood. Yes it is a hot day and a little mirage on the hot early afternoon freeway is not a mirage here, its just hot day byproduct I was thinking… but the mirage continued. Wait! is that mirage actually a little smoke coming from under my hood? Ooo no man, by now – no mirage – there was really even more smoke coming from under my hood. I can’t believe it!!

When mirage no mirage happened I was driving in the far left of three highway lanes, with that wide highway division gravel area to my left. So I slowed down and pulled over to my left and off the freeway. The moment I stopped and walked out to open the hood overwhelming amount of smoke covered entire front part of my Mila van, and a bit of me too!

“ Don’t open the hood, it will explode! Call for help!” yelled a woman from one car in the middle lane of the freeway as all three lanes of vehicles slowed down a great deal to see what is going on with all that smoke. Of course, having my rug pulled from underneath me, I did not listen but lifted the hood at once to the even bigger cloud of coolant/antifreeze haze coming out from under the hood.

At least it is not smoke I was gladly retreating more back from Mila van and letting all that coolant/antifreeze cloud go up and away.

“ I can’t believe this,” I was talking out loud while the traffic on highway 8 West went back to normal speed, and leaving me alone off the road on the border between Arizona and California. Once it all cleared out I just put the hood down, did not close it and tried to start the engine. Nothing. I realized it is time to apply some calm abiding since my new books event ego with its “I will be at Cardiff-by-the-Sea in few hours” plan was revolting and ready set go to into overheat even more than the radiator that obviously had a crypto little hole in upper left corner. It was visible and clear how all that hyper evaporation was coming out from right there. I sat on the gravel, with my back to the traffic I was part of so happily till five minutes ago, and did a little meditation on good man Buddha’s Noble Truth of impermanence. Until now, I have been holding on to the idea of my immediate future California and Pacifico grande 4K resolution daydream, creating a false sense of joy for myself on artificial ground. By doing so, I have been missing the very flavor of real joy, of being a Buddha in the moment, since Buddha I exist only when I am fully aware of moving preset moments and their beauty, and not being somewhere where I and I is not. This helped only a bit since my leone ego, my double leo nature was trying to roar while my awareness was trying to be constructive with this unpredicted shift in mi fortuna.

Practice. Practice. Practice. Never give up. And you will be free Chamtrul Rinpoche once said, and I was doing it, but still was not free from pain of mi California dream evaporating in front of my Mila van’s lifted hood.

Ten more minutes like that and I was able to laugh at my romantic self taking a romantic sunset picture at “Cardiff-by-the-Sea in few hours”. I sat with that for another ten minutes cultivating gratefulness that it was not the engine fire but just a little crypto hole near the radiator’s top releasing mucho, mucho haze.

Next exit ahead of me was in California and some two miles away. Last exit in the back of me was same distance, and in Arizona. I turned the key again and the engine started. Between unknown exit upfront in Cali and known gas station exit back in Yuma I opted to go back. But, in order to go back I had to reach that first exit in Cali, and once there turn around. So I joined in the traffic again, this time all the way in the far right lane, going only thirty some miles an hours with hazard lights on and flashing. However, not more than two minutes or one mile max, and half way to that first Cali exit the no mirage fuming started again and heat gauge went all the way up and above that overheat top line. I pulled to the right side off the freeway and in the back of two US army kids whose buffed up high tires truck also overheated. From them I learned they were waiting for a tow truck, so I said I will wait with them to get towed first, and at that time will make arrangement for a tow truck to come back and get me after they deliver their truck to the near by army base, where they will fix it themselves. We kept waiting for about half an hour or more, their tow truck was not coming, they did not know any mechanics in Yuma for me and hoped I did not bust my engine as they said they probably did with theirs. After some more big small talk how we just don’t know whats gonna happen next in our lives, I went back to Mila van that started again! With heat gauge on half as it is supposed to be. Knowing it might overheat in matter of minutes again, and not wanting to go any further from Yuma I drove Mila van across three lines of highway 8 West, and across the wide loose gravel divider area, and on to highway 8 South, all the way across to far right side, and in back to Yuma direction. Less than half mile later heat gauge went over the top again so I stopped and turned the engine off. It took us five times starting and driving up to quarter mile at the time to finally get to my last Yuma exit, and back to gas station where I was so proud of Mila van being cared for so well, some 2-3 hours ago. The Sun was staring to descend and I was not even close to Cardiff-by-the-Sea … but further. My moods were changing so quickly today that it took some extra time to get mi bearings. So I just stayed next to mi tired Mila van for a bit to give my senses an adequate chance to drink in my new old surroundings of last ARCO in Arizona, picking up vibes from left and right. This uncertainty here was better than earlier uncertainty one hour ago in the border area. Jon Kabat Zinn’s “Wherever you go, there you are,” helped a bit too. I was here for the sunset and the night.

Inside ARCO a kid working at the counter told me he does not know of any mechanics and how most likely none of them are working tomorrow anyway because it is Veteran’s Day. Later I googled some mechanics to call mañana first thing in the morning and see if some of them work despite this holiday.

I spent a night at ARCO, first praying I did not bust the engine, then working on calm abiding how its OK even if I did. Everyone has experienced this kind of a flip of the projected future, and knows what it means to be disrupted, to be entombed between death of a great plan and rebirth of a challenging present and unknown future. We often label that state as misfortune. In those moments, we lose our grip on the old reality and yet have no sense what a new one might be like. There is no ground, no certainty, and no reference point, and there is no peace. This has always been the entry point in our lives for faith and calm abiding test. In this radical state of undesired change smacking my ego real good, I need profound reasoning. I need not just logic, but something beyond logic, something that speaks to I and I in a timeless, non-conceptual way. Milarepa the great name sake of my Mila van, my cave on wheels, referred to this kind of disruption as a “great marvel”, and was singing from his cave in Tibet: “The precious pot containing my riches becomes my teacher in the very moment it breaks.”

Around 6 in the morning on Veterans Day I was just hanging out with a cup of my very special tea, looking around with Mila van’s hood up, when a Native American man who, it was visible, went trough some rough times, approached me and asked can he help. I told him what happened, he observed the crypto leak spot and said how he and his wife had a similar problem while visiting Grand Canyon some time ago and how he pasted some epoxy putty on it, and how that was good enough to bring them back home to Yuma. Luck was that Home Depot always open huge store was near by, so after giving him five bucks for some gas he needed for his van parked at one of the ARCO pumps I took one mile ride to Home Depot. Engine that cooled all night long performed well from ARCO to Home Depot.

Oooh so many epoxy putty options in good old USA!

And after dual educating session between kid helper in the aisle 16B and myself I opted for J-B Weld Steel Stick. Outside the mega store I cleaned the little radiator hole area well, mixed the epoxy putty well and put it all over that area with a prayer it holds us to Escondido. That version of epoxy putty asked for 30 minutes to dry and solidify, so I texted to my precious Lama Drupon Samten Rinpoche at Drikung Kyobpa Choling, a Tibetan Meditation Center in Escondido sharing how I am not even close to making it there for our tea date at 10 in the morning on Veterans Day… but how if J-B Weld Steel Stick works well I might be there for lunch. Half an hour passed and I went back on to the freeway 8 West. Passed the “Welcome to California” sign again, and more or less at the same spot where I first time saw mirage-no mirage yesterday – it happened again: heat gauge went all the way up and above overheat line and coolant-antifreeze haze was present big time as well. At times like this, if we can gain freedom from the eternal grasping onto who “I am” and how things should be – our default mode – then we can get to the business of being alive. Until now, I have been holding on to the idea of J-B Weld Steel Stick working out, again creating a false sense of comfort and joy for myself on artificial ground.

For a while I observed a fine quiet sunrise on the empty holiday freeway, all just for me and my dear suffering Mila van. The cause of all suffering can be boiled down to grasping onto a fictional, contrived existence. So there at our own private sunrise I solidified to stay uncontrived… and then did the same thing like yesterday: drove across three lanes of the freeway 8 West, and across the dividing gravel area back on to 8 South. After five takes of overheating and open hood cooling downs we was back where we started this early morning, on last ARCO in Arizona, and right in time to call some earlier googled auto mechanics, and see are they working on Veterans Day. They were all open but one was on the other side of Yuma’s 4th Avenue that was already closed for Veteran’s Day parade, while the other on my side of Yuma’s for parade closed 4th avenue was so overbooked that he could see me “maybe Thursday”. However he suggested I call Yuma’s 3:10 mechanic shop and talk to Mr. TJ there. I first texted my update to Drupon Samten Rinpoche in Escondido to tell I am not gonna make it for lunch, and then Mr. TJ told me they are on 32nd Place, which is off 32nd Avenue, once I take off from exit 3 and take 3 E street up to 32nd avenue. Mila van engine has cooled down enough to get me to exit 3, but right there after making a right turn off highway 8 South and in upward direction towards the top of the little hill on 3 E street where LOVE gas station is, it totally overheated again, and died while curving into the furthest right lane. I lifted  the hood again and was standing in front of my Mila van’s back gesturing my apologies to mostly truck drivers who were passing me with no big deal hands support since it was still to early for busy traffic. I knew I had to give Mila van a good rest because we were going up the little hill next, so I just kept there for some twenty minutes cultivating my samadhi, until Yuma Sheriff parked his 4 wheeler behind me. At safe distance and still inside his vehicle he showed me not to come any closer, while dictating my license plate number into his mike. After few minutes of me not moving any closer a strong and muscular Yuma Sheriff came out, and came close to me.

“ You have your drivers on you?”

“ Sure officer,” I went and got it, “you not gonna give me a ticket, right?”

“ No, just wait here I will be right back.”

Yuma Sheriff went into his 4 wheel drive again and after few minutes came back, and first returned my drivers back to me.

“ I will have to push you off the road, go inside, and put it into neutral,” strong and muscular Yuma Sheriff told me.

“ Ooo you will push me up this hill with you vehicle,?” I was curious.

“ No just go inside and put it into neutral.”

I went inside and put it into neutral, and the strong and muscular Yuma Sheriff pushed Mila van with me and boxes of my two new books inside up some five yards, up the little hill that is, and off and out of the right line of the traffic on 3 E street.

“ I will be on my way to 3:10 mechanic shop and mister TJ in few minutes officer,” I told him so he knows I know what am I doing.

“ You are OK now, and good luck to you, “ Yuma Sheriff wished me and drove away.

Soon after I drove up the little hill and all the way one mile or so past LOVE gas station on 3E street to 32nd Avenue intersection, where Mila van died again right on the traffic light where I was to make a left from 3 E street into 32nd Avenue. Direct experience of disruption was felt at the core of my ego again, and I and I were observing how there was no longer any use of manufacturing artificial security even for the very next moment. I called mister TJ again and told him where I am and that I needed more instruction how to get to his 32nd Place, once I am trough the intersection and actually on 32nd Avenue.

“ I can see where you are,” mister TJ said while I was right at the intersection of 3 E street and 32nd Avenue, with Mila van’s hood up so everybody can see.

“ I am waving at you,” mister TJ continued when I said I do not see him … and then finally saw him only some half mile to the left off 32nd Ave, but with a wide deep ditch and fence dividing his 3:10 mechanic shop parking area and 32nd Avenue.

“ Oo yes I see you now. How do I get to 32nd Place from here?”

“ Just go to next light, then make a right and return to here driving on Florance,” mister TJ was instructing me to go on 32nd Avenue all the way some two miles and at the first light there make a double right turn to return back some mile and a half on parallel road with 32nd Avenue which is Florance. And Florence will end with his 32nd Place.

Once I got going out of that big intersection and made my left into 32nd Avenue Mila van was running kind of smooth and it behaved like he knows it is going to the mechanic. For a minute or so it ran so good I thought for a moment that it fixed itself just like that. But by the time I made a right, and then another right into Florence and then another right from Florence into 32 Place, Mila Van’s engine was very noisy, and rattling all over the place. There you go, I finally run the Mila van engine down I was thinking. Since yesterday while driving with engine signs for which Google warned not to do I kept postponing this moment in order to save both of us from long wait and costly towing service, pursuing reality as I think it should be. And now I have it, engine busted. Over. The acceptance of it landed. I can’t play this game anymore, I was recognizing the value of giving up this game, which I played intuitively without even giving it a good second rational thought. Now I must cede control over Mila van functions to strangers. Holding it all together is not an option anymore.

Thinking like that I parked at Yuma 3:10 mechanic shop. Mister TJ came out, took a snap photo of my license plate, looked totally indifferent at the Mila van’s engine, said nothing and invited me to come into the office. There, no seats for customers, he spent some 20 minutes on the computer and finally printed out some contract papers that “allow me to fix your car,” not saying anything more.

When I asked him how much this obviously big work he did not name is gonna cost me mister TJ started with:

“ Well I see you have some coolant/antifreeze so I will not charge you for that, but, when I order new radiators I always order thermostat too so the parts will be around $ 350 …” and he kept talking and talking while I was realizing he is charging me out of town fleecing of a sheep in trouble rate. I knew from googling last night how the new radiators for Mila van cost $ 200 max, actually between $100 and $180. When he told me the insane final amount including 3 hours of work and the thermostat but no coolant antifreeze charge since I have some, I asked him to please stay at his office just to recharge my iPhone a bit and work out some alternative plan. Mister TJ disappointedly told me to OK thats fine it as long as I need.

I called Richard in Tucson with my iPhone plugged into the wall socket, and when I told him how much it is he “that dude is crazy man, its half that amount” yelled while my iPhone speaker was on, and mister TJ acted busy on his computer.

“ Richard just listen to me, if you can’t do it thats fine, but if you can I want you to rent a U-Haul truck for 24 hours of local Tucson use and also rent a car towing dolly, and come and get me at LOVE gas station at exit 3 in Yuma; and we will go back right away. I will drive on our way back, so we will be done in 10 hours total, and I will have Mila van at my mechanic Mike’s shop so he can see if the engine is busted or not… and will start from there when I know is it even worth repairing,” I was delivering the plan B scenario to him.

“ Ooo yes I know that exit, I was tanking the gas there,” Richard said, “OK lets do it but I think Tom is better in driving big shit like that, so I will call him and ask him to come along too.”

“ OK you talk to Tomashku and I will call you when I get to LOVE in about an hour, I gotta finish charging my iPhone here a bit more first.”

“ OK and also I will call my friend here whose kids live in Yuma, maybe they know somebody who can help you there.”

After another half hour I thanked mister TJ from Yuma 3:10 mechanic shop for his kindness, and with engine not dying but “only” fully overheated again came to LOVE gas station some impressive 3 miles away. Yes heat gauge went all the way up and above overheat line again but I was micro managing every moving moment and needed just to get to LOVE, and if the engine is busted so be it, I will tow it back to Old Pueblo anyway.

From LOVE I contacted Drupon Samten Rinpoche in Escondido again and told I am not coming at all but returning back to Tucson.

It was already after 3 PM Veteran’s Day. I called Richard in Tucson again, his friend who has kids in Yuma that might help me here was not calling him back, but Tom agreed to come along and drive the big rented rig. However not today since U-Haul rental office was not open for Vetaran’s Day, but tomorrow and after he is done with his doctors appointment at 10 and Tomashku is done grading some 40 plus essays by his students at Pima College in Tucson.

The value of moments like this is: I am shown how the game can be given up and that when it is given up, the situation I did not want, is not what is there. What is there is the bare fact of being. Just simple presence remains, breathing in and out, and walking up and down the LOVE station big parking area. The inevitability of the circumstances at hand was compelling enough that my complexity ceased. And my compulsive manufacturing of contrived existence stopped, again.

Uncontrived at LOVE.

Mila van’s hood was up again when hanging out and smoking Mexican truck driver with earphone in his right ear asked me whats wrong. I told him the whole story and he was all triste about it. Then we started talking where is he from and where I am from, originally. I mentioned my code for being accepted by Mexican people right away: Boba Milutinovic – a legendary soccer player of my Belgrade Yugoslavia’s Partizan soccer team from late 60ties, who as a legendary player in Europe gained even more fame and total el dios like admiration as a head coach of Mexico’s national soccer team, when he took them to semi-finals of FIFA World Cup in early 70ties. Smoking Mexican truck driver with earphone in his right ear totally opened up:

“ Of course I know Boba!” he said with great joy, and we started total open exchange of what we think where we are, and what USA is, and all… when a bit run down and worn out, and totally inked man came and also asked whats wrong. I repeated my Mila van story. He opened, un screwed the engine oil top cap, took a sample between his fingers, examined it a bit and said not to worry I did not bust the engine.

“ How do you know?” I asked.

“ If you busted the engine there would be some coolant/antifreeze mixed with oil and it would look like espresso, but your oil is clean so you are good.”

“ Yes I am good to tow it back to Tucson.”

“ Wait let me call somebody,” the inked man said and placed a call.

I figured he must be a veteran since he had all kinds of army ink on his forearms and upper arms.

“ Hey Flash this is Jason, I have a man passing trough and his radiator is leaking … OK, OK, yes …”

“ Tell him I can come tomorrow first thing in the morning,” I suggested.

“ Yes, yes I know, yes, he just told me he can come in the morning. OK thanks.”

So Jason made appointment for me with a mechanic called Flash on Hila Road that is running parallel with highway I-8, some three miles South from LOVE.

He was leaning on Mila van’s side, holding the open hood and was obviously not having any plans, just glad to talk to Mexican truck driver and me. And he got a smoke from Boba Milutinovic soccer legend fan too.

“ So you are a veteran?” I asked after a while.

“ Yes I was in Vietnam. Why?”

“ You should be down on the 4th Avenue at the parade for you man.”

“ Are you nuts, they don’t even give me any health benefits anymore, I am not gonna be a cactus on their shitty show. Do you maybe have some change for a soda?” Jason was clear.

“ No I don’t but lets go inside and I will get you some smokes, and lets have a pizza, its your day man.”

“ If you can afford I will appreciate,” Jason said and all three of us walked into LOVE.

Inside I first got him a soft pack of smokes.

“ Thanks man, I will go out and smoke one more, and you get whatever you want, but for me one extra large soda will be fine,” Jason said.

Pablo and I sat at the Godfathers Pizza and by the time Jason came back I already ordered a Humble Pie Pizza with Mozzarela-loaded crust, extra large.

“ I really appreciate it man, I needed some food,” Jason said with smile on his face that almost made me cry.

“ And I was thinking you want a big soda only.”

“ Yea right,” Jason said, and we were all laughing, and happy we were together.

Then somebody called Pablo, he said he will be right back, but never returned for our Veterans Day pizza.

“ I know him and I know where he went,” Jason told me after few minutes.

“ I think I know where he went also.”

We were laughing again in joy, and he told me how he is basically working different odd jobs for different truck drivers who come to LOVE, and thats how he is making a living. He also told me how he had a fiancé and they lived together until about a year after he came back from Vietnam.

“ My fiancé and I were childhood sweethearts but when I came back and started having some heavy duty nightmares she could not be with me anymore. And I understand, I don’t blame her, sometimes I can not be with my own self anymore, you know.”

“ I hear you man but first things first. You gotta think clearly about it all, you did nothing wrong, they sent you there and once you were there in the Apocalypse Now…”

“ Oo Jinpa I lost myself there, and I did a lots of things there…”

“ Exactly my point Jason, you lost yourself there, and who would not, so be kind to yourself and heal. And you already did heal a lot, you are not on that false parade with people who cut you off from health benefits, but here helping me for real, you are my angel man. And I an glad you are not on that parade. Even a small good you do in your view, can have a big impact, like today. Believing there is a nugget of good to be done will keep you on good path, and that is the wisdom I can share. Acting upon your humanitarian impulses at all times and every day is your spiritual growth and key to heaven on Earth. Your angelic actions re-energize your body and mind, and purify your karma. Feel it, don’t just go trough it with anger towards them. They don’t deserve your energy. Your star shines brightest when you are making a positive difference. No matter how small it looks to you, but to me you did a gigantic good.”

“ I am getting it Jinpa, and I am doing it, its just that I am still so angry at what I did and what they did to me, and how they “thanked” me once I got back. You said  Apocalypse Now, that is how it was.” 

“ Do you know that Apocalypse Now is not even a story from Vietnam?” I asked to cool Jason’s mind engine heat gauge going all the way up and on the way to above the overheat line.

“ Really, how do you know that?”

“ Because Apocalypse Now is a story written by a man from my part of the world, Joseph Conrad, it happened in Africa more that hundred years ago, and Coppola took that story and moved it to Vietnam.”

“ Really, but it was really like that.”

“ Yes, exactly my point, it is happening all over the world, and happening at all times not just in your Vietnam. Don’t start me on my Serbia that was bombarded for 79 days with depleted uranium bombs where cancer is rampaging now but nobody knows. Most important is we don’t want and we are not part of it, but opposite of it in peace and love. Get your complete cosmic positivity on every day when you wake up, and be a part of the solution, and don’t be hard on yourself for wrong done on you.”

“ Thank you Jinpa, you made my day,” Vietnam veteran Jason said to me on Veteran’s Day at Godfather’s Pizza place at LOVE.

“ Are you kidding me J! You saved my journey to California man! If it was not for you I would be towing my little cave on wheels back to Old Pueblo. You are my angel, get that solid in your mind if I made your day OK.”

“ Thank you Jinpa,” Jason said with serious voice on the mission to apply what I just told him.

“ No problem man, but look I gotta go and lie down, I am so tired from all what happen since yesterday, my body hurts, and I gotta rest,” I said knowing we can continue on like this forever but also knowing we have to stop and in that way cherish the experience of what was told, and not wear its power down by talking too much.

“ Ok take the rest of this pizza with you Jinpa and I got to get going back to my buddy anyway,” Jason said.

“ No, no compadre you take it to your buddy, I have a lots of food in my Mila van and will be at Flash’s mechanic shop mañana before eight, and wait for him to open,” I said.

“ OK sir, I will see you there tomorrow then.”

I brushed my teeth at LOVE and then took boxes of my two new books from back of Mila van into drivers seat area all over, and laid down to rest. Fell a sleep in no time, to wake up a bit before 4 am when the Full Moon was coming down and right into the Shri Kalachakra ideogram sticker I have on top of Mila van’s back window, so I can look at it while driving and looking in the rear view mirror.

No kidding, Mila van was parked facing South, me laying down facing West, so that early morning full Moon came into my Shri Kalachakra ideogram that is a representation of the heart chakra of my daily practice. And not half, not even quarter inch to the left or right, the beautiful Luna llena was descending right into the middle of my Shri Kalachakra ideogram that is a representation of my heart chakra… during the early morning at LOVE. I knew, I felt, I breathed I was on the right place and in the right time. Great Pacific on the beach at Cardiff-by-the-Sea, near Encinitas, in my ego’s total 4K (4096 x 2160) resolution was just a grain of sand of the maha experience I had now with Luna llena during quiet LOVE station early morning. I saw how and why I needed this much more than a photo of a sunset by Pacifico grande texted to my latest infatuation… and how I will put a sacred selfie of this experience higher that all I felt regarding my two new books and all my, my and my I felt before overheating.

Until seven I was solidifieing what is and then after some of my fine tea with hot water from LOVE I drove down the Hila Road to Jason’s friend Flash’s shop.

Flash is actually doing transmissions rebuilding and repair only but he took me in for first thing in the morning work on the radiator because of Jason.

I arrived at Flash’s shop on 4701 Hila road in Yuma before eight and ready to wait for him to open; but Flash was already there. You could see, you could feel this man loves his life and his job. He took Mila van right in, along with another vehicle owned by one of his local customers. Flash’s waiting room walls were full of framed photos, memorabilia and letters from happy customers and their vehicles. After few minutes he came into the waiting room and told the local lady customer how he is gonna give her another car to use till late afternoon since he must first take care of me since I am from out of town, and on the way to San Diego, and this way she can take care of her business around town, and her car will be done later this afternoon. Then he sent his accountant to get the new radiator because Auto Parts store delivery will take longer. A bit after nine, while I was reading a little brochure on marijuana healing oil from CBD oil display in Flash’s waiting room, new radiator was in the shop. He took me back to show how and why he ordered big thick hoses as well since old ones “you can see” were worn out and brittle from years of heat of Arizona dry hot weather. I agreed with all Flash suggested and went back to his waiting room to read more of his framed stuff on the walls. It took three hours for new radiator to be all in and done. When Flash came to tell me I am ready to go my bare feet and I and I were enjoying the invigorating shaking of the fourth speed on the five speed foot massager he has for his customers too.

I got cash discount, and with the receipt I got a pen, little sticker note book, and a keychain/flashlight with his shop’s name on it.   

While cruising from one moment to the next in direction of Pacific Ocean and my precious Lama in Escondido I observed wide open sky realizing how great teachings happen if we can just be open to the experiences of profound disruption.

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