( I’m doing the ” WRITER’S NOTEBOOK” because
I discovered I have several hundred drafts I can’t remember writing.
These are thoughts, stories and articles that I either hadn’t finished… Or I thought
were too wild to publish.)
Except for my words honouring Sam Powell.
The world is interconnected in more ways than we imagine.
When the time is right for an event, people who are connected, even slightly,
(in Zen they call it connected by karma)
fall in together and start to move and contribute.
They might not know why they are joining the Event,
but likely they do. Unconscious urges compel us. The tide and
the seasons and the stars all swirl together into one
magnetic , spiritual impulse. The timing can be
Or the “leader” may start the ball rolling, after all
he or she is the impetus of the event. But what is the
leader’s impetus? What is his or her inspiration?
This is entering the realm of the mystical, to answer
I won’t attempt to answer this question now,
The leader is the focus of tribe’s
aspirations. I use the word ‘tribe’ loosely. All of
a sudden they come in from the hills. They sense
the occurrence, as do I – the Event.
We’ve been waiting for so long. But now it may be
Please forgive me if you do not think this way,
but I sense it is the movement of the Lord of the
Meeting Rivers. We pray for forgiveness. We pray
for consumation. We pray for strength. All we
have to do is stay alive long enough – to see
what is needed – to see what we need.
Nothing important and significant in our lives
is done by one person alone. Such things are done by a
community of people, a variety of folk working
together with courage, love and laughter. There
are many unsung heros in such situations. And
I like to sing such perople’s praises when I can.
Even a genius has major support from his or her
mate, lover, mother and father – even the rancour
of those who hate him is a support: this is rarely
There is an expression which applies:
“AN ENEMY IS AS GOOD AS A BUDDHA”.
IN WRITING CAMP ISLAND WALKER, two lmpulses are
at work in the same time: (1.) My father’s story is told.
He comes out to us.
(2) My story will be told, as I understand his story, as I understand my father,
as I finish the book – I reach out to him.
It is like Odysseus and Telemachus, if you catch
my drift. The father returning home, and the son
heading out to find the father – these are major themes
of the Odyssey. Some classical scholar might suggest
that this thinking is grandiose – for me to see
things this way.
I’ve been accused of being grandiose before,
and often with good reason; but in this case
I am merely following Homer’s themes. His themes
apply to every man, and every man’s son.
This is why he is such a great writer.
I lost a friend last week, and so did many of the people of North Bay.
I was right in the process of e-mailing Sam Powell when I got a call
telling me Sammy was dead. He had gone to the farther shore. He had asked
me a question about who had lived where just west of Jane and Algonquin
about 80 years ago.
I had some answers for him.
Sam was interested in North Bay history. Now he is a significant
part of the history of the City he loved.
God bless you Sam. I’m going to miss you and I know a lot
of other people will, too. North Bay will miss you.
I always felt better when you were around.
Fare forward, my friend,