Summer Solstice, June 21, 2013

June 21

I took Gay Bolden’s little van, True North, from Delta Junction to Fairbanks this morning. I am at the main library downtown now, waiting for Amyth to come get me after work.

Here’s what I wrote about Sondra Winters in my reference today on Couchsurfing:

Sondra had a real “message” for me. She is a divine inspiration because she is so honest–no games here! And yet Sondra is also extremely kind, polite, gentle and non-critical. These are the lessons I have been longing for years to learn and to put into action, but I didn’t know how to do it. Sondra gave me the bridge, the recipe. The key was being able to do all this while being true to oneself. Thank you, Sondra, from the bottom of my heart, for so much more than the beautiful quilt-covered bed.


I sincerely feel that this morning I made a real breakthrough spiritually. Today, on the Summer Solstice, I rediscovered ME  (the I, the Self, my spirit, my soul). I now know listening to my inner voice is the whole ball of wax.

Here are some of the many notes I made while awaiting the van this morning at the IGA store in Delta Junction:

Distractions include worrying, thinking, food, picking at my nails, keeping busy, power, status, money, etc. Without distractions I can hear the “voices” (my own “I’ spirit voice is the loudest) in my head. THAT is my God, that is my foundation, eternally.

Perhaps my night fears as a little child were the fear of this loud, inner “voice.” I don’t know, but I know it has scared me for years, and I have done everything I could to drown it out. Why? Perhaps to become “me” (little me, not ME, the soul) in this lifetime… To fit in… To create/imagine a life in the material world… I am not sure. I think I will understand this someday.

Everyone is looking and listening for their own inner voices. Most of us just don’t know (for a long time) what it is we are looking for. Or at least, I didn’t know. “Who Am I?” was the question I kept asking myself; the answer does not lie in the material world or the physical self.  Listening to my inner voice gives me the AUTHENTIC ME.

What I understand now is that if I am criticizing, judging and seeking to change others to be like me, I can not hear my inner voice. And, equally, if I am criticizing or judging myself, I can’t hear my inner voice. Changing myself (my physical mind-body) is always a goal because I am working on becoming a better person.

Thus, to accept and love and be kind to everyone WHILE RECOGNIZING that I may like some people better than others is fine and natural.


I want to love others without judging them. I want to have humility and be kind without compromising for one second being true to my Self.

“Revolution is internal.” (Gogol Bordello)


Freedom means: letting it all go; no worries.

We Aspies are changing what is considered “normal.”

I don’t want to “live in others eyes.” (quote from a book I’m reading) That means I don’t want to live according to how others see me.


Dad, Karl John, was a smart man with a low IQ. (Little education.) I have seen that this can make people angry (probably very angry if they are actually smart people). Dad was very angry WITH ME because I was smart, getting a good education, having excellent care (including medical and dental, etc.), taking trips to Europe, had a higher-class friend (Jane Britton), and HE was financing it all! I don’t blame him. On the other hand, it wasn’t my fault.


Fact is not judgement. I like knowing (and reciting) facts, logic, and being objective.* Having a great college education fostered these abilities. Dad paid for my first two years of college: at Boston College and University of Maine (boarding); Hank paid for my summer session at UCLA (1967) and my two semesters at University of California, Santa Barbara. I was responsible for all the rest of my education (six more schools). I was willing to be poor, and this willingness allowed me to qualify for ample school loans.

*I also like being subjective, psychic, emotional, and having mystical experiences.


I am loving Alaska, but the society has almost no Gypsies. Thus, I am missing my foundation here. Nevertheless, I do love being here. I think the long, cold winters here beat people down (I know this is true in Nederland, Colorado, where Meg, Sam, and Archer live with Jeramy.)

I was certainly raised by working class parents. One was an immigrant; the other 1st generation German-American. Mom was called a “Kraut” on the streets of Roxbury, Mass. as a child.

I am very at-home with working class folks, yet I have a very good college education, and that’s a difference between me and many of the proletariat. Also, I have defected from the proletariat into the nomadic group, and that’s another big difference between us.


Nomads and Sedentaries

I am glad that I can be at-home wherever I am. I am not tied to one place, one house, one neighborhood, one town, one family, one state, one country (though I do identify as “American” (American Traveller-Gypsy), or one continent. I am a citizen of the world.


I am happily settled in at Amyth’s cabin out in the woods outside Fairbanks. The rain has stopped. The woods are packed with aggressive mosquitoes.

Amyth’s brother and sister-in-law, Charles and Anne (from outside Albuquerque, New Mexico) are visiting in their little camper. We all went out for a Thai dinner and Hot Licks’ homemade ice cream. Then, a little shopping at Fred Meyer, and now home and a hot shower (thank god).  I have my own extremely cozy little room where I can escape and have privacy while still being part of the “gang” out in the living room. It’s heavenly, and I really like Amyth. I am so thankful for my Gypsy way of life.


June 22

Amyth is a real soulmate. She not only gives me confidence (because she is so honest about her struggles), she also makes me feel like I have a real friend, someone to whom I can tell almost everything about myself.

One thing Amyth told me is that compassion is about recognizing that all of us Sentient Beings have the same needs. We all go about meeting those needs in our own different and unique ways, and some of these ways are destructive (to ourselves and/or others) and/or unpleasant (and therefore make us unloveable or unlikeable). Thus, we may LOVE everyone and be compassionate toward everyone, but we may not LIKE everyone.

Yesterday, I was writing about this topic (above), and today I asked Amyth about it, getting this wise answer. She goes to a Non-violent Communication group (like the one I went to for a weekend on Maui a few years ago), and this is stuff they discuss.


Cooking beans that Amyth says she’s had for “a few decades.” They are taking hours and hours to cook! Life is so funny–the things that happen just make me laugh all the time.

One of Amyth’s Non-violent Communication books is Thomas D’Ansembourg’s Being Genuine: Stop Being Nice, Start Being Real. This could be the Aspergers anthem. I was talking about this whole “being ‘nice’ ” thing with Amyth. She agrees that the middle and upper classes do 99% of the oh-so-fake NICENESS in our society. Why? Because it smooths the way for them to continue–and enforce— their social status. It’s a game they play. And it sucks BIG time.


I think I was over-protected as a child, and I think now I often over-protect myself (out of habit). Bad.


June 23

Amyth and I went out dancing last night under the Midnight Sun. It was incredible to be out in the middle of the night, dancing at a Native bar and having it be almost as light out as in the middle of the day. The horizon was pink at sunset/sunrise (about 2 am) when we came home.

First we went over to The Howling Dog in Fox. Then we went to The Arctic Fox, a Native bar, and danced our sox off. The bass player in the band was the son of a friend of Amyth’s. It was lots of fun. I had two Buds, and Amyth drank water.

This morning I will listen to the Cajun and Zydeco show on WWOZ (live radio streaming from New Orleans). Then, I’ll continue my search for couches here in Fairbanks, in Denali, and on the rest of my way to Anchorage.

I’ll stay down in southern Alaska until August 1 when I’ll fly to Seattle. From there, I’ll hitchhike to Denver to see Sam, Archer and Megan. Then to New Mexico for a little while. And finally back home to New Orleans. I may have a couch for a month in NOLA.


Here’s part of the email I just sent to a friend in New Orleans:

I always fall in love with handsome, very young men (as you do with young women). Men my age (and older) almost never appeal to me, partly because they were unaffected by feminism. And also because YOUTH IS BEAUTY.

Men go through andropause between the ages of 30 and 60. It’s the male aging process. Men lose half their testosterone and experience social and psychological changes during this period. It’s the equivalent of menopause in women.

The best we can hope for… is to not make fools of ourselves in the pursuit of youth, beauty, AND SEX (ha ha). Perhaps we are really searching for ourselves.

I value your friendship. May it deepen. And, forgive me, for seeming to be censoring your statements about your sexuality. I think humor and honesty are two keys to life. I like it that you were honest about your penis and it’s status (ha). Never feel badly about doing that, please–not with me, anyway.

Making jokes about sex is so fundamental to Southern California and New Orleans culture. I love that. And who knows? I may just feel the NEED to give you another blow job someday.

Love and hugs, Bunny


“I’m just getting  stressed by people being here. I wish they would leave.” My CS host said this to me today. I am one of the “people being here.” Two other people (her brother and sister-in-law) are also here  so it’s not just me, but it’s sad when someone has to say this obliquely to a guest.

I was invited to stay for three nights, but this host has trouble having people around for days at a time (it’s her nerves). It is uncomfortable for me, knowing that she feels this way, especially since she and I had such a great time dancing last night. I just have to accept that its HER problem and not about me (and this essentially nice woman would be the first one to say that).

I find that people like my host who were abused as children have certain characteristics: attention-seeking, big egos, self-absorbed, depression, controlling, and jealousy. They are not pleasant to be around for long periods. This host knows all this about herself.


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