Visions and intuitions

Monday, November 28^th, 2011

      Some days are certainly more interesting than others. As a general rule of thumb, the more one takes notice of events, the more one sees into them, and takes note of what is happening. For example, I am observing my emotional responses to events outside of my physical person. In doing so, I get the opportunity to observe the feeling, where it resides, and then choose how to respond to it. Thus far, it has been a fascinating process, all from simple observation. Outside of such esoteric events, the world presented all sorts of circumstances today.

      Not so long ago, I wrote a bit about wanting to find another company. Apart from the written word, that idea/action remained ethereal. I told Jen that I would call that other company today, and I was rather reluctant to do so; I'm becoming comfortable with my current situation. Someplace in Idaho, on U.S. 95, I had a flash of inspiration. Since I am working on developing my integrity (or doing what you say you will do... I honestly had no idea what that meant in that sense until like 3 years ago!) I chose to look at this as an opportunity to flex that muscle. After a short chat, I found out that I am eligible for re-hire and that the recruiter will pass my info along to a terminal manager shortly. Essentially, I'm in.

      Driving a bit further, it occurs to me that I am having second thoughts. Happens to all of us. I was figuring that I could always put off changing companies a bit longer should I not wish to follow through. I started thinking about the memories I've had with my former (future?) company when one hit me like a brick. Someplace in the south, either in Georgia, South Carolina, or in Texas, there is a memory that lingers. It is a warmish afternoon, cool for the region, but much warmer than where I'd been. The land is flat, and sandy, a slight breeze wends through a thick layer of trees and hanging vines. There is a hint of salt on the air, the ocean is not too far away. I feel so lucky to be there. This single event was quite moving, but still did not relieve me of my self-doubt. I needed a stronger example.

      There I am at the border. Papers in hand, passport at the ready. I'm dedicated to doing this run, since it is where I am now and this is what I am doing. Being in the moment. My thoughts ran thusly, “the border guard is asking a lot more questions than usual. What is that yellow piece of paper he is writing notes on? I'm glad he's OK with me bringing instant soup for personal use into Canada. Wait. What?” I've been asked to pull off to the side and come in with my papers and passport. Settling up to the counter, after a short wait, I am informed that I will be getting a background check. Sure. How long could that take? I get lightly questioned about places I've lived. “Well, right now is Washington, before that Massachusetts, then Washington again, then Massachusetts again, then New York, then Arizona, then Florida for a bit, then Arizona again, then New York again, then Washington, then Oregon, then Washington, then Pennsylvania.” I didn't say them in that order (which is chronologically correct) just a large handful of them, and he said he got the idea. So. I figure all is well. I am then informed that they want to look at my load of toilet paper, paper towels and napkins. They break the seal while I remain inside waiting. A short bit later, The guard is back. “It's stacked to the ceiling (I know this, since Costco works like this all the time) so we are going to have to offload you.” Translation: we are going to pull every pallet off your trailer to make sure we feel like we are doing our jobs. And because we can. The long and short of it is that I hung out there for 2 hours while they futzed around doing their searches, which included my cab; my teddy bears were left laying on their sides and a bit distressed. On top of that, it seems that they charged my company $290 (Canadian) for the privilege of wasting my time and unloading and reloading the trailer, hopefully in the right order, since this runs has 3 stops to it. All in the name of paranoia.

      There are two upshots to all of this. 1) Canadian border guards are real people. You can ask them questions and they'll answer, even silly ones. Try that here and the cop/guard gets all bent out of shape. This gave me an insight. It seems that by being more human, the Canadian guards get respect for being genuine and for remembering that their power has been given to them by the people. On the U.S. side of the border, Cops/guards get respect out of fear and by remaining separate from the root of their power. That made me rather sad on a certain level. 2) After all of that crap, I am quite sure about my decision to switch companies. I'd be stoked to see Texas and the Deep South again. Maybe not to park in Arkansas, but just to smell the air once more. And to avoid chaining my tires. Screw that.