(Our moon is waning gibbous, 99% illumination)

I have a new member that I would like to add to our staff here at Caminoheads. Always ever present and hard working we have our Relentless Bureau Chiefs that I want to acknowledge. And also we have our Spiritual Advisor Padre Tomas and our Historian Professor Catalina. So I am adding Jessika (callsign Secret Agent) to our staff as the Liaison to the Order of Malta (the Knights Hospitaler).

Jessika has completed her two year apprenticeship (not the right word) to the Order but has yet to get her cape because of Covid complications. But the Order has been around for eight hundred years taking care of the well being pilgrims world wide. We won’t get into all that right now, perhaps another day, but she was here on the ranch and I grabbed a pic with her so I thought that this was a perfect time to introduce her. You may have met her somewhere on the trail or at the Veranda way back when.

But what I really had on the agenda to write about today was something different but since Jessika was here egging me on to write about this I will now. Although we may just be scratching the surface with one post or really part of a post. But I had a realization just yesterday and I wanted to run it by you. And maybe this all has to do with Halloween, I don’t know. And I hope that this doesn’t offend anyone here, but Jessika reassured me that it wasn’t too weird. OK.

Well, remember when you were a kid and you and all your friends had a weird wild and crazy aunt or uncle that you would get to see only a few times of year, weddings, funerals, holidays. And your folks would sort of try to interpret them for you all the time. Yea, you know what I am talking about. They were probably totally lovable and innocent but just a half notch off. Got that image?

Well, here is the maybe offensive part. All of my friends are starting to appear to me as crazy aunts and uncles. Not more than a half a notch off but still clearly identifiable. So there, what do you think?
Am I wrong? Thanks Jessika, it needed to be said.

So Happy Halloween, full blue moon, the whole thing, loves, Felipé.

(Our moon will be full tonight)

Yea, Halloween today. It’s also the last day of October and the full moon appears this evening. It is directly opposite the sun. The sun will go down and the moon will come up in the opposite sky all in the same breath.

And yesterday that was such a great story that Cris brought to us on her blogpost. It was so rich and at the same time so simple. Love that, thanks Cris. So like Debra dreaming that dream as message for me. Or maybe this happens in many kinds of ways more commonly. We learn all the time by other people’s example. That’s a message for us.

Joyce Rupp in her blog that just came in to me today had a quote from Flavia Weedn, “Some people come into our lives and leave footprints on our hearts and we are never the same.” Yea, ain’t that the truth.

I was just tossing some more chucks of maple in the woodstove and reminded of the fact that one piece of wood just doesn’t burn on it’s own but the heat and light come from in between pieces. They seem to egg each other on so to speak.

Well OK, time to get going. A beautiful day here on the ranch. Need to get out there. The best to you.

Heat and light come from in between loves, Felipé.

(Our moon is waxing gibbous, 99%)

Until a few days ago, I was so clear on what I wanted to write. And then, yesterday, Phil’s Rebecca posted some words from the Chilean writer Isabel Allende and my post inevitable changed. (If you haven’t read it, go and do it!)

For this post, I was actually thinking “what is that I have to say?” and here, “have” means “what is in my possession”… And I was reflecting on this question and a text from an Argentinian Benedictine Monk (Mamerto Menapace) came to my mind. Mamerto is someone you fall in love with instantaneously, he is a man from the country side with time to live, speak, listen and have mate… “Madera verde” (Green Wood) is one of his books and almost every adolescent who had a contact with the church in the last 40 years read it. A wonderful book for your pocket.

There, he tells the story of “Cancio”, a “guri” (“guri” is the word used in the rural areas by the “simple” people, to call a toddler). Cancio was called by his father who looked worried, and explained that he needed him to carry out an urgent mission. Without giving any explanations, he asked the boy to prepare a horse and told he would need to go to a relative’s house and take “a parte” (a sort of letter or announcement). Cancio was really young and small, his father had to helped him to get on the horse. Once he was sitting on the horse, his father pulled out a large handkerchief, wrapped something in it, and tied it to the waist of Cancio under his shirt. Cancio didn’t know what it was, it looked like a letter and something else, but he couldn’t tell. He was only focus on what his father told him: “Go to the uncle’s house, do not stop to talk to anyone, don’t stop to play with your friends. Go and come back to me with whatever he wraps in the handkerchief.”

And this is what Cancio did. The uncle was anxiously waiting for him. With no questions, helped Cancio off the horse, took the handkerchief, went to the house, and returned with the handkerchief with something wrapped into it again, and tied it back to the waist of Cancio and sent him off with a smile and a blessing.

Soon Cancio arrived back to his father. His father was waiting on a horse too in the entrance of their farm, anxious but also watchful for Cancio. When the boy arrived, helped him to get off the horse, untied the handkerchief, rubbed gently the head of the small boy, and allowed him to go back to play.

Cancio is one of Mamerto’s friends from his childhood; a man of more than 70 years when Mamerto wrote this tale. Cancio told Mamerto that he never knew what was wrapped in the handkerchief, but all he knew is that it was a message to carry, and that both men, his father and uncle, were aware that a message would arrive to them and it was important.

This tale that I read when I was 17 for the first time, calls me to read it again every time I wonder “what is in my possession”, what is “this” that was given to me, and I have to share? Like Cancio, I feel I was given something wrapped in a handkerchief that I don’t know its content, but I know is something for the others. Like Mamerto says, I am sure you know what it is, so I am just here bringing it to you.

Cris our Caminoheads South America Bureau Chief in Buenos Aires, Argentina.

(Our moon waxing gibbous, 91% illumination)

Ahh, back from dreams, back from the Institute, back for the dentist and back from my morning walk. I feel runned over by a truck a few times maybe forward and then it backed over me just for good measure. Geez.

Well, let’s take them in that order. If it wasn’t for the “tapas on steriods” dream two nights ago I’d be really lost right now. It has really buoyed me up substantially. I am so grateful.

Then at the Institute yesterday we hit the point in my treatment where we are had to admit that we need to find the next stepping stone. The trial drug has not in the long run done it’s job. So, this is interesting, I am scheduled for a biopsy of my tumors to see if anything new can be learned. Apparently things change as in this stuff can mutate and it’s DNA can change. If this has happened then a new catagory of drugs could be employed and possibly immunotherapy. This is one possibility that needs checking and that is where we are heading next.

And the 0750 dental appointment to tackle a filling. Isn’t that like ridiculously early or is it just me. Anyway that worked out great because I was thinking of my dream the whole time. Less dreadful than I imagined. And I got back early enough to be here for the walk on time. It was such a relief to be JUST walking.

JUST loves, Felipé.

(Our moon waxing gibbous, 85% illumination)

I was there in a dining room with all new people, new to me but they obviously knew each other. It was a little intimidating at first. These people are more educated than I. These people are more wealthy than I. These people know each other and I am new. I wish Rebecca were here I kept thinking.

But they were not only interested in each other but in me. Everyone is equally outrageous but no one can do anything wrong. There is eating and drinking going on but people are mainly intoxicated by each other. There is a lot of spilling going on. People throw all their cloth napkins at the person causing the latest incident and they laugh and laugh.

At a certain point we all get up and load ourselves into various motor cars for a ride. It doesn’t seem to have a purpose but it doesn’t need one. Just being together is enough. This goes on and on and eventually we are back and I wake all giddy.

Geez, what the heck was that? A dream, the longest dream in history. It seemed to last a half hour. Yes, I realized that was a dream and I had that dream. I was so happy with myself.

It reminded me of Gil Pender in Midnight in Paris. He meets all these amazing people. One minute he is with Fitzgerald, the next with Salvador Dali. Hemingway was immensely interested in Gil’s writing. It is Hemingway’s Movable Feast all over again but just for me.

It reminded me of Pilgrim Farmer John and his crowd of buddies too. They know each other and trust each other to have this incredible continual raucous banter going on night and day when they are together.
Everyone is equal and no one is exempt.

It was like the best of tapas when we all are pulling for each other. Here is a Felipé quote, “We were all shades of battered.” There are new and old there, it doesn’t seem to matter how long you knew someone, ten days or ten minutes.

It was the picnic in Viana in the beautiful ruins of a church, the roof long gone. The sky all full of sun and storm. We enjoying each other.

A super lot of my dreams are full of anxiety. I guess they are nightmares but no monsters. I just cannot find the place I am supposed to be. Or I can’t get there in the time allotted. I am always a dollar short and a day late. But here there was no concern over time. Time was totally irrelevant.

The WHOLE idea was to enjoy each other in our quirky individuality. You can’t do ANYTHING wrong when you are genuinely yourself. It seems to go on forever, TIMELESS. A vision of heaven?

full of sun and storm loves, Felipé.

(Our moon waxing gibbous, 85% illumination.)

Almost afternoon here and still don’t have the blog under control for the day. Been busy this morning. Let me empty my mind here of all those little details. Now, what were we talking about?

We have been chewing on the topics of the smelly pilgrims and the dream interpretation. And we have gotten into the idea that both of these may be a form of communication that we have happened to stumble into. Not that we invented them or thought them up but we are noticing them.

These days, or really these daze, it is hard to notice anything but the big stuff. Whether you want to put the Convid first or the election first. It is hard to make room for anything else. There is something to be said for the boring old days. You know those days where we just worried about where our next tapas we coming from.

Maybe we are just going to have to make some room for all our old important stuff. We need to prioritize some and not get overwhelmed by the news. Personally I will be happy to escape to the elk woods next week. Things primitive there and a good break from civilization.

I don’t know whether I will be able to get the blog posts out every day coming up in November elk hunt. And I might not stay at camp the whole time as I may come back midweek for a little bit. But whatever I will be thinking about you and your well-being.

always loves no matter the location, Felipé.

What is rolling around in my head is the topic of connectivity. As with boiling down my Camino experience into one word and that would be hospitality, we could boil down Caminoheads blog and get connectivity.
And this connectivity might be the key to understanding the phenomenon of synchronicity.

We all talked about Camino magic as a thing. One example could be the appearance of help in whatever form at exactly the right time or place for you or yours. Things seemed to cooperate on some level most of the time. It took care of you. Maybe this isn’t so strange a thing but how things are supposed to be. I am beginning to think that it is related to our communication and connectivity.

The better we are connected to God and our fellow man the greater the magic. Of course magic might be a really too casual a word for this. But it does seem magical!

This whole deal of Debra being a messenger for a dream for me is some kind of indication of connectivity that I wasn’t aware of before. This is all on the woo woo side of things but what the heck. I have Catherine working on the possible interpretation of the symbolism in this communication as we were talking about it yesterday.

So, yup, stay connected. Off I go to the morning walk and then my energy work with Janet over the phone.

magical loves, Felipé.

We are walking along as the temps continue to drop. The schedule will remain the same through October.

Then on the first of November things change to our winter schedule which means afternoon walks start a half hour earlier. Also because of Covid we need to cancel tapas till Spring and the return of stable dry conditions. And also just to complicate things I am going with our son Wiley on an elk hunt so will have the walk closed for a bit. I think that I will just fill out the whole month below:

Sunday 11/1 walk at 1530-1630
Monday 11/2 walk at 0900-1000
Tuesday 11/3 walk at 1530-1630
Thursday 11/5 closed
Sunday 11/8 closed
Monday 11/9 closed
Tuesday 11/10 closed
Thursday 11/12 closed
Sunday 11/15 closed
Monday 11/16. walk at 0900-1000
Tuesday 11/17 walk at 1530-1630
Thursday 11/19 walk at 0900-1000
Sunday 11/22 walk at 1530-1630
Monday 11/23 walk at 0900-1000
Tuesday 11/24 walk at 1530-1630
Thursday 11/26 walk at 0900-1000
Sunday 11/29 walk at 1530-1630
Monday 11/30 walk at 0900-1000

OK, think that’s it. Felipé.

(Our moon is waxing Gibbous, 69% illumination)

Was a cold night but fortunately not as cold as predicted. The woodstove is merrily working away warming us up. The high pressure weather system is bringing clear skies and sunshine. And a chance to see our moon later today.

I wanted to share this dream that came to me via friend Debra. She typed it up and gave it to me to make sure that it didn’t get garbled which was good:

“Dream: I (my consciousness) am hovering above a field. The field looks like a mower hay field. A voice says or I’m aware of this communication: “This is a message for Phil Volker. Pay attention only to what needs attention. Four corners.” I am so afraid that I will forget this that I repeat it over and over to myself.”

When Debra was talking to me in person about this she mentioned a detail that is not in that written account. She said that the field was perfectly square. I see this in my mind, similar to the drone shots in the Phil’s Camino documentary which look down on the landscape here at Raven Ranch.

This whole thing is totally amazing to me. I am mulling it over. I am gnawing on it. If you have any brilliant ideas let me know.

Will have another post today with a walking schedule and trail news.

love from the corners, Felipé.

(our moon in it’s waxing gibbous phase, 60% illumination)

Man, I didn’t have a minute all day to get the blogpost done till now. And now it is 6PM and the World Series in on the TV and I am trying to catch up on the wine. It is supposed to freeze tonight and tomorrow night so I was running around winterizing. Yup, life in the country.

But the smell topic turned out to be terrific. I don’t know if we are done with it, well I hope not. Originally I thought about the smell communication between us in our small groups. But everyone here added something to expand on that. The smells in the albergues all night long. The smells in large groups like at the pilgrim Mass in Santiago. So we bonded with individuals and with the whole population of the time.

And the painkilling effect of chemical stuff that was flying around. I knew it couldn’t have been all in the ibuprofen 600’s. Just one war story. I remember me at an albergue sleeping in the lower bunk. I had put my glasses in one of my Crocs under the bunk. So yea, during the night a trip to the water closet was in order. So I slip into my crocs and stumble to the facility and back walking on my glasses that whole way. My feet we so torn up that nothing was surprising them, just a little more pain now and then.

Well, I got permission from Caminohead friend Debra to talk about the dream that she had that was meant for me. Yea, but tomorrow. I’m toast for now.

here let me walk on your glasses loves, Felipé.