Go East, Old Woman!

Hagerstown, MD

September 13, 2011

2:44 p.m.

Go East, Old Woman!

Step-by-step my rhythmic mobility seeks equilibrium while 

Still small roots ground me in beliefs, loves, and fears.

These twisting energies drag yet pull me along.

One foot in front of another,

Is it the one or the other in the lead?

Trusting the movement is my anchor and my raft.

*   *   *

from “Seismic Dream” by Pattie Porter Firestone, 2011

Last week I was interviewed by two reporters for all of the major networks’ affiliate stations in Buckhannon, West Virginia. One reporter asked me what had inspired me to undertake this 6 1/2 month American-Cross-Country-Mother/Daughter-Walkabout Adventure. 

I thought about the one nagging question people had always asked me before we began our walk:  “Why are you walking?”  I remembered my inconclusive -- if truthful -- answer in my first blog months earlier, which was, in essence:  “I’m not really sure I can answer that until after I’ve done it.”  

It was not a cop-out, it was recognition of an observation my son Brian had made, which came in the form of advice.  He had ridden his bicycle across the country twice: once from West to East, and again from North to South, and he said, “Whatever you think this journey is about, it’s not that.  I can assure you that you will discover it has a completely different purpose and meaning for your life than you can possibly imagine.”

So, faced with the reporter’s question, I jumped in at a completely different level, from a place I could not have imagined in the beginning.  I answered, “You’ve heard ‘Go West, young man!’?” I asked.  The reporter nodded.  “Well, this is a matter of ‘reverse pioneering’:  “Go East, Old Woman!”

*   *   *

Since that television interview I have contemplated our journey’s direction from sea to shining sea, from where the sun sets to where it rises.  All of that Western expansion that took up so much of the energies of the 18th and 19th centuries in America we have recapitulated in reverse as we have traversed the land “at the speed of life.” 

It is true:

• We became intimately acquainted with Route 66, the “Mother Road” linking the Mid-West to the Far West, and by which my own family came to Los Angeles, California in the ‘40s from Omaha, Nebraska. 

• We physically walked across the Great Divide in New Mexico, and pictured the water draining into the Pacific Ocean in the West, and into the Mississippi River basin to the East. 

• We logged many miles along the Santa Fe Trail, which allowed settlers to pour into the South West, where the Spanish had already established their version of civilization, still very visible and palpable in the art and architecture and culture.  

• We found the traces of the Wild West that still remain in Dodge City, Kansas, where the Texas longhorns were brought to the rail head along the Chisholm Trail.  The story is told that when an old, bedraggled gold prospector got on the train, the conductor asked him where he was headed.  “Hell,” he replied.  The conductor looked him over and said, “That’ll be eighty five cents.  Get off at Dodge.”

• We came to appreciate the covered wagons, and more than once realized what a deluxe accommodation our old 1984 Ford Lindy Econoline RV was, when compared with the original prairie schooners.  

• We also marveled at the true grit of the Mormons, many of whom were single women heading West pushing hand carts to find their “promised land.”  

• We saw a sod house preserved on the Kansas plains, very similar to the one in Nebraska where my grandmother, who lived to be 99, had been born.  

• When we came to the Mississippi River at St. Louis we began to appreciate the great good fortune of the Louisiana Purchase in 1803 and the import of the expedition of Lewis and Clark, and the important roles that their female Native American guide, Sacajawea, and the black slave York had played.       

The reporter also asked me what I had learned, what stood out in my mind, looking back upon the journey, now that we are within a fortnight of our destination.  I touched on a few impressions in the interview, but now have had more time to consider my answer in more depth.  This journey has brought:

• An opportunity to be enriched by the experience of Native American culture first hand.  Both descendants and living tribespeople have generously shared their ways with us, notably in California, Arizona, New Mexico, illinois, Ohio, Kentucky and Pennsylvania.

• The shattering of stereotypes all along the way.  For example, as a West Coast person, “the flyover states” will never again be just a blip on my radar screen!  Many individuals we met in “the heartland” of America have given me a real appreciation for the meaning of the term.  And there is a lot of heartbreak in the heartland just now as young people move away, and families and farmers scramble for ways to make ends meet. 

• The discovery of my voice and my audience -- especially women over 50 who, like me, find themselves wanting to fulfill their lives, and mend their own heartbreak by finding ways to make a positive impact with the time and energy that remains to them.  The world needs the special music of the grandmothers, let us not die with that music still in us.  Let us step up, step out, and step beyond our fears to express, in the most positive way possible what we have learned -- even if it means teaching what we most WANT to learn.

• The strengthening and deepening of the mother-daughter bond between myself and my daughter, Viveka, and the discovery of a joint spiritual work, best described as “spiritual activism,” which we pursue joyfully together like a passionate hobby, without attachment to outcome!

• The appreciation of all those who settled and built this country -- both male and female, slave and free.  

• A bittersweet recognition of tragic valor, as we took account of all the lives lost -- on both sides -- in the struggle to preserve the Union.

• The solemn recognition of all who fought and died, both “winners” and “losers” on every side of every conflict, both foreign and domestic -- may they rest in peace with the fervent hope that human kind is learning a better way.   As a PeaceWalker, I often think of my great inspiration, Peace Pilgrim, who walked a distance of more than the circumference of the earth (25,000 miles) to honor her vow:  “to be a wayfarer on the earth until mankind shall have learned the ways of peace.” I believe the 20th century did show us that we’ve concretely demonstrated that we HAVE learned the ways of peace, but we are not very good, as yet, at applying what we already know.  Peace is a choice made by individuals, first, from the inside out.  I am clear that I aim to see, in my lifetime a “Department of Peace” in our government.

• The deep contemplation of the maxim “Know Thyself” which has a wide variety of interpretations, from “practice moderation and humility” to “without Self knowledge, all other forms of knowledge are meaningless.”  In seeking to know myself, I have discovered my own shadow, and my own wounded inner child.  I see that my answer to the question “What is wrong with the world?” would be the same as G.K. Chesterton’s:  “i am.”  (meaning the small self)  And the answer to the question, “What is the remedy?” is "I AM" (meaning the greater Self)  

• The importance of a personal daily devotional practice -- for spiritual grounding.

• The extreme gratitude to providence for our health and stamina, and the ability to exercise our freedoms, and to complete this "walk your talk-a-thon."

*   *   *

In just a little over a week, G-d willing, we will reach our destination.  I have been told that it is not possible to ascend the Washington Monument any longer due to structural weakness caused by a recent earthquake.  That had always been my goal:  to sit in the capstone -- if I might be allowed -- and pray for a new vision of this country that could sustain us into the new millennium.  Since this is not possible, I hope to receive a new assignment in the form of a new ritual of completion, which I look forward to sharing with you.