46. Pilgrimage End

 "You can take the boy out of the country, but you can't take the country out of the boy."


I never went back to Italy or Il Poggio and have never communicated with Thielo or his sister except to acknowledge their letter and express my feelings about our loss-- their mother, my friend. 

Elisabetta was my strong connecting link with that phase of my life and I believe to try to continue or pursue that life would amount to the grasping some wise Buddhists caution us against.

 I have never been able to work with clay again somewhat to my regret. The essential space, materials, kiln, time--these things have never come together in my life again. (Though I am not finished with life in this body yet by any means.) Papier mache is my current substitute for clay. It's temporary (just like everything else) and cheap--flour, water and recycled cardboard and newspaper with magazine illustrations for color.

Well then, what does a pilgrim do when the pilgrimage is done?


This particular American pilgrim went to Russia, found a teaching job at a university, met his mate, returned to America and waited until it was possible to marry her, and as a married man needing an income  has worked as a substitute teacher in California until the unpleasant children disgusted him away from teaching, worked as a sales clerk until the huge retail store closed down, worked the twelve-hour night shift in a bunny suit in a factory clean room until the heat and noise became unbearable, learned the copy and shipping business until he asked for a month off for a spiritual retreat and the company decided to give him a permanent spiritual retreat and has tried without much success to be an artist and writer.

But the hidden pilgrim inside continues to live and even thrive! 

Good for him and Good for you! 

TW

.....