Santa Cruz

At Pergs today, a Chinese man leans over to Terry and says: “I’m going to tell you the secret of eternal youth ..save you much money on make-up and plastic surgery” She goes “OK, I’m in” He says “Still your mind and you will not age as quickly as people whose minds are constantly struggling to hold their personalities together.”

Santa Cruz

The floors where Terry lives slope either one way or the other ..and the doors don’t sit right .. cold air rushes in at night. “It used to be a surfboard shed” she says “but I don’t complain, the rent is low and I can hear sea-lions barking from the pier.” We’re eating cereal and drinking licorice tea on the wooden porch that sits in front of the house that sits in front of her shed. I see surfers covered with tattoos staring at us from across the street. Terry tells me to ignore them ..they’re usually tweaked. Say’s her neighbor Julie’s probably been bad-mouthing her again. I ask about her mother (a friend of mine living in Redondo Beach).

“She's relentless .. hasn’t let-up ..keeps tellin’ me how I dress in skid row fashion ..going out to dinner with her has become somewhat of a torturous process ..she keeps rankin’ on me ‘bout the way I eat ..says I probably got absorption problems ..maybe not getting enough lithium or something.” 

I laugh and say “You mean calcium?” She goes “Yeah, could be ..it’s hard to tell when I stop listening.”  I tell her lithium is a mood-stabilizer. “Then it’s probably lithium ..” she says and we laugh and get ready to go to the University. Later on we go see her friend Juanita ..she makes killer quesadillas and appreciates it when Terry tutors her kids.

Santa Cruz

I’m sitting drinking tea at Merrill and chatting with some of Terry’s classmates. They seem exceptionally well informed and receptive. Certainly not the way I remember myself back then. I’m impressed. They express a keen interest in what’s going on at Esalen and ask me if there’s a revival of sixties radicalism (!?) Wayne, a poli sci student, has pretty detailed knowledge of events going back to the Vietnam era. This feels erringly familiar. I ask him if he’s ever heard of the Iran-Contra affair.

“Yeah, that had something to do with selling guns to Iran ..in exchange for hostages.”
“That’s right. Anything else ..? “
Yeah, they used the money they made to fund the Contras.”
“And you believe that ..?”
 “Well now wait a minute, I do remember something about a conspiracy to sell drugs to support the Contras ..(?)”

Now I definitely feel like the last to know. I go for a walk through the woods and find a place where I can sit and watch the sunset over Monterey Bay. I shake my head. I’m happy to see our system of higher education is working well. They’re teaching conspiracy theories that are way more advanced than mine. These kids are getting out of here with a mind as sharp as Occam's razor.

Santa Cruz

After Mary’s workshop, I blow-off the weekend workshop ..and turn it into a personal retreat for the next couple of days. Nice. I arrive in Santa Cruz on Monday. Now I’m on the campus of UC Santa Cruz, which is such an amazing place. It’s in the redwood forests overlooking Monterey Bay. I take a hike through the woods, processing the workshop, which still resonates ..as I go. I follow a wooded trail to the Uni library, go online and post some of my workshop experiences, from a first-person, ego-centric point of view. If you’re interested, follow the link ~>[link].  I sit and stare out the window at the redwood trees. They’re massive ..and very wise I believe. They’re the oldest living beings on the planet. I remember when I could sit by an open window and spit sunflower seeds at them. Not no more. The windows won’t open(!?) Could they be afraid someone may try to head for the woods without going down the stairs and leaving by the front door ..? Hmm, not even at the height of my psilocybin days ..