gypsywagon (2)

Snag or a Sign?


SingPeace! is stalled. The wagon and journey are in limbo following 4 days at the 2010 NW Folklife Festival over Memorial Day weekend.

No mistaking the intention for the earth pilgrimage for peace and global harmony; it remains strong. The "old woman," grandmother Pushkara Sally Ashford, is keen to carry on.

The hitch, quite literally, is in the hitch.

Locally, we've been challenged to arrange for a tow vehicle and driver every time we want to move the wagon. SingPeace! doesn't have a heavy-duty vehicle that can pull a couple of tons. We've hitched the wagon to four different trucks and drivers in as many events. And we've had to change out the hitch each time we hitch to a different truck.

Globally, we're looking at the sorry situation in the Gulf. The oil spewing from Mother Earth turns a petty "snag" into a "sign." How can we ignore Her message? How can we go on mindlessly, greedily consuming Her life's blood? And immediately in the face of President Obama's declaration about the necessity and efficacy of off-shore drilling! I guess She told us! There is no minimizing the impact; every life form on earth is affected. It's likely that I will not see a satisfactory resolution to the long-term consequences of this catastrophic spill in my lifetime. I wonder, too, about my grandchildren's lives.

Did I say, yet, that I got locked out of the wagon? With the generous-hearted help of a longtime and dear friend, Steve, who responded to my 11th hour SOS, we delivered the wagon to the NW Folklife Festival on Thursday night. I arrived back at my island home at midnight. I discovered the keys were missing the next day as I unloaded my car at the Seattle Center. I put in a call to another friend, Mick, who scoured my house for them. They'd vanished. Today, I called every lost and found number I could imagine to discover where in the world they'd got to. On Friday, of course, I had to call a locksmith who replaced the locks.

Things like the keys slipping away can and do happen when habits and patterns are in flux, especially for an old girl and event planner with too many details cramming her mind. But in the context of the big picture, taken with the other hitches and delays, I'm taking in the cues and biding my time.

At the moment, the wagon is at the garage, awaiting yet another modification to the hitch (electric, brakes, etc.).

Until an affordable, alternative and renewable truck technology comes along, preferably with a competent driver, it seems likely that we will SingPeace! more locally than regionally or in distant localities.

Mick is encouraging "the old woman in the shoe" to step out of it. He suggests parking the wagon in a strategic location - preferably in range of Tokitae! - the land where the solstice gathering will take place. "Let folks come to you, the grandmother," is Mick's advice. He points out the extent of event planning and costs of each as another good reason to rethink the pilgrimage. He's encouraging me to "use my words," to write and post blogs as a way to draw people to the mission of SingPeace! Mick is a clear mirror reflecting certain realities.

There are others. At Folklife, I received an invitation from a Unity minister in Port Angeles. Another man from the Fellowship of Reconciliation invited me to Olympia, saying, "We have a huge peace movement there and the students at Evergreen State University are going to be very interested in the wagon and in what you do." I met two young men and some elderwise women who are candidates for Mick's Foot Camp. How in the world would these folks find me and us if I were not on the road?

Coming up is an entire calendar of festivals and gatherings we could participate in - with the wagon!

Truth is, I don't know what to do. That's got to be okay, for now. I'm in limbo, awaiting surrender to "what is" and/or clear direction for the changes I feel are coming. Calling to mind the old adage: "When fishermen can't go to sea, they mend their nets."

Laurence asked me to transcribe my new song: "It's Songlines Choir material," he told me. I can do that.

Mick is urging me to write to get my message out.

Thank God for the foot and Earth Gym training as I need prospects for action and being in community. The computer and the isolation of the "ivory tower" have their limitations.

Even with the obvious hitches and delays, the SingPeace! wagon has been greeted by warm and loving hearts. Folks are getting it, rapport is there. I will post photos and details of NW Folklife in a future blog.

In the meantime, SingPeace!
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Namaste, SingPeace! friends,
With the SingPeace! gypsy wagon on the road, we are counting in smiles, not miles. As the journey begins, each of our recent short trips with the wagon has had a celebratory air, full of surprise encounters, challenges and fun.



Steve Habersetzer, the master craftsman who built the wagon, kindly towed the wagon across the water with his '57 Chev pickup. We've posted photos of Steve and Susan Leinbach, the seamstress who stitched the lovely interior furnishings - cushions, pillows, duvet cover, curtains and flouncy valance - for the wagon. We were met at the Port Townsend ferry dock with smiles, curiosity and comments of well-wishers: niece, Gabriella Ashford, and her three children, Ella, Nathaniel and Everest rode their bikes down to see us off. Deborah Shomer, one of our singing angels, was on hand to bless our launch. Richard Rhydes and Richard Epstein, members of the Whidbey Island cheering section for the SingPeace! project since the outset, happened along at just the right moment, on their way to a sushi lunch and a movie at the Rose, a charming Port Townsend theater.

Once on the ferry, Steve went over key points of the wagon's working systems, which I'd piled into a kind of manual. Propane, the tiny hearth and cook stove, water, outdoor shower, composting toilet, hitching mechanism: these were clearly going to take more than a cursory once-over, but there was no time like the present to begin learning what I'd need to know when we're the road.

I was reminded of bringing my first-born home from the hospital. 'My God,' I thought, 'what an awesome responsibility this is. And it's my call!' Birthing the wagon from conception and design, and nurturing every phase of it's construction to get to this point, was nothing compared to actually being charged with its daily feeding and care.

On the Keystone side, I jumped in my car to lead Steve and the wagon to Yoga Lodge. We were slow going on the highway, 40 mph in a 55 mph zone; I pulled to the shoulder a couple of times to let traffic go by. But the red sports car in my rear view mirror didn't pass with the other cars. What was that about? I finally got a view of the "Exuberant Animal" sign posted on the car's passenger door. Mick Dodge, the Barefoot Sensei, was bringing up the rear. He'd come to welcome the wagon home! Our little caravan made its way with ease and grace the short distance to Yoga Lodge, with one hitch: Steve's truck could not haul the wagon up the steep rise in the soft surface of the road. We tried 3 times and spun out 3 times. We all agreed, it would take a 4-wheel drive truck to get up the hill. We had to unhitch in the lot below and leave the wagon for the time being.

That same afternoon, I met with Wendy Dion and her husband, Dan, attending to other matters - namely, connecting up the projector and speakers for the film: "Sound of the Soul," which we planned to show as part of our homecoming program. Technology got the better of us; we would have to to work out the kinks with expertise none of us had. That, too, would have to wait for another day. Wendy agreed to take that bit on.

Fortunately, we had the cushion of another day or so to work out the wrinkles in our plans. Richard Epstein, who is a local contractor, wasn't expecting my SOS call for a tow, but he and Greg, one of his crew members, met me at lunchtime. We (they) managed to hitch the gypsy wagon to Richard's 4-Wheel drive truck. That was all we needed to get my 3500-lb. baby up the hill and in place for the weekend. Richard and Greg had some great practical suggestions to me about hitching and unhitching for the long-term as we get out on the road.

By the next day, Wendy had worked out the film projection dilemma. We'd also found a solution to transportation questions. We'd rent a shuttle to make the 2-mile trip from the Park & Ride to cut down on traffic and parking volume on the private road to the Yoga Lodge. This latter turned out to be a non-problem, but the article, "Giving Peace a Chance," in the newspaper announcing our coming had stirred some alarm among Wendy and Dan's neighbors; we were in "peace-making mode" on all counts.

Our homecoming at Yoga Lodge was to be a two-day encampment, with our out-of-town guest singer-songweavers, Laurence Cole, Rob Tobias and Sara Tone and friends staying overnight at the Lodge. We would be serving a few meals for program contributors on the weekend. Having worked out details of the menu beforehand with Wendy Dion - I would take the dinner meal. Wendy, with her Bed and Breakfast expertise, would handle the morning. What a bargain! Much relieved by the easing of various hitches and glitches, I went home to cook.

My daughter, Wendy Ashford, who has kindly photographed and helped to video the SingPeace! events, came up from Seattle on Friday night. Deborah Shomer arrived to help around noon on Saturday. Laurence Cole and his partner, Deanna Pumplin, already on the island, stopped in to say hello. Dizzied by details, but with the help of a thorough list and two able helpers - Deborah, Wendy - I (we) managed to pack up the car and get on the road in good time.

Next stop, the car rental place where we rented the van that Deborah offered to drive up island. It would serve as shuttle. Deborah and another friend, Lee Compton, agreed to make alternating runs. We had folks on the road, as well, directing drivers away from the private road to the Park and Ride. Making peace is not a pastime; we were quite literally going the extra mile to keep it.

By dinnertime, the cast of thousands was assembled. Wendy Dion had enlisted some competent volunteers to help out in the kitchen, and in other ways. We gathered around the table, about 14 of us, for a welcome and blessing - going around the circle, singing our names and hearing them echoed back several times by a musical, if goofy, choir of voices.

Having ample time to settle in, laugh, sing, to warm to each other, and to share food together are luxuries that I want to nurture as part and parcel of the SingPeace! journey. Nothing hurried; at ease and in harmony, on the ground and in good company wherever we go: these are pieces of the peace inside of the huge commitment and effort that comes with making such a pilgrimage. Not exclusive to those who came together around the table that evening, we seek to embrace in harmony and joy those we meet.

More than that, we have talked long about how folks should be able to take something home with them that they can share with their families and communities. While our "Songs for a Culture of Peace" -- those shared this weekend by Laurence, Rob and Sara -- hint at what it could mean to live in unity with nature - our own and our Earth Mother's, I have to ask: "Why am I not singing my song?" I want to hear everyone's voice; I want to hear everyone's song and story.

The great spur for me in making the SingPeace! Earth Pilgrimage is a yearning and call that never went away - to sing out and to tell my story. This blogpost is yet another attempt. Among those who know my story of having searched for my voice for decades, I find more and more are seeking and finding their own voices. "You may not know the impact you're having," one person told me, "but because of what you're doing, I found my voice today."

I'm not interested in spectatorship. We've lived too long listening to other people's songs and forsaken our own. SingPeace! is a collaborative effort to reawaken and rejoice in each other's song.

You can see from the Yoga Lodge photo albums that we hosted a small but enthusiastic crowd both days. I saw sheer delight in their eyes as we sang together on Saturday night. At the end of the evening, we showed clips from the Sacred Music Festival from Fes, Morocco. Sunday got a lazy start, but Mick Dodge enlivened the afternoon miming a computer "powerpoint" presentation. Half of the group stayed inside to sing while the other barefoot bunch followed Mick outside for Earth Gym practices with sticks, stones and tree weaving. I got a chance to do a little of both, hanging upside down from a tree for the first time! Thanks to Marianne Aylmer, who was along to help, I made a safe, if somewhat ungracious, descent. A less happy fate fell to 4-year-old Everest, who in the photo is seen flipping and rubbing his noggin.

I haven't said much about the gypsy wagon. There was a moment on Saturday afternoon, as we were setting up, that I pulled out my guitar and sang a blessing I'd learned in India. Laurence happened along with his drum. A few others were about. I watched Mick do a little celtic whirl as he danced down the path. Over the course of the weekend, the wagon was explored and crawled about by all in attendance, with much appreciation for the craftsmanship, beauty and sheer fun of it.

I haven't yet mentioned Kevin Rio Kipur who offered to haul the wagon with his 4-wheel truck. Rio is the perfect driver, experienced and fun. He throws his arm out the window, his fingers forming the victory sign, shouting, "Peace!" More about Rio in a later post, but you'll see him in the photos with the kids and his dog.

At the end of the second day, it took a while for our band to gather together, but we caravanned in the late afternoon into the center of town in Freeland, sang a few songs, met some old friends, and gave some tours of the gypsy wagon. Then, we drove into Langley, the sweetest little seaport town on Puget Sound. By now, it was getting late and cold. There was no legal way to park, so we pulled up in an intersection. While Rio kept his eyes out for the sheriff (he's been arrested in Langley for skateboarding on the street), the songs of Sara, Rob, Laurence and Deborah attracted a small group of tourists from India who ran over to us and began dancing around the gypsy wagon. They had a quick tour as we shared some memories of Mumbai and the Indian state of Maharashtra. Then, we were off!

The last feat of the evening was Rio's skillful hauling and unhitching of the gypsy wagon - in the dark - at my home. In all of the months of building, I'd never once imagined this moment. I live at the foot of a very steep hill. I had no plans to bring the wagon to my house. I had no plan for it anywhere on Whidbey Island! In my mind's eye, it and I would always be on the road.

Not so fast. The dream is one thing; the physical reality of having this wagon, what to do with it and how to do it is a different matter entirely. Every day reminds me of that. This is another wake up call - one that I hear and am responding to. I'm finding the courage and stamina to take the next step and the next as the vision moves from dream to actuality.

More to come in further posts, but let me not forget to thank you, all of you, who are participating in this SingPeace! Earth Pilgrimage for Peace and Global Harmony. I am much humbled and very grateful for your presence. The journey is ours; we make it together. Bless you.

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