INDIVIDUALIZATION

I was cruising along California St. after a steep climb up Van Ness St. to a delivery. I took Hyde St. down, my favorite high speed descent back to Ananda Fuara Restaurant at 9th & Market St. Halfway down I detoured cutting down a quiet street toward home when I drove by a young bored hooker in a doorway. She said something and I stopped. She asked if I wanted sex, I said no but that I did want to touch her cute body. She pulled me into a quiet mostly hidden apartment building entryway and put my hands on her breasts. She was sweet and soft, and most accommodating as I was a bit timid. When I rolled away a couple of minutes later I was freaked out. I felt out of control, and strangely exhilaratingly alive. The encounter was totally random and in the moment. I had barely gotten back to the restaurant Ananda Fuara from my delivery when Ashrita, Sri Chinmoy's secretary/bag man called with the message that Sri Chinmoy wanted me to pick a center in California and go there. No explanation.
It was instantaneous as I knew it would be. I waffled as to the center I would move too but in the end the choice was a no brainer. It had to be Santa Cruz. My sister and I had established a center there. It was a 1 bedroom apartment on Beach Hill section of Santa Cruz and it had good light and a garden view that stretched all the way around. My sister and I had meticulously painted it and had a luxurious blue carpet installed wall to wall over double padding. The center had no furniture, just pillows everywhere.
I moved into the center in Santa Cruz immediately and began looking for a job.I had not had a job outside the center since 1986, which was 8 or so years previous when I was 18 and worked in a Gelato shop in Los Gatos. I had done a lot of construction work but mostly restaurant work. So I got a resume made by my sister who was way more savvy in the job world than I was.
Joel was a disciple in Santa Cruz and very successful commercial abalone diver and my great good friend. He lived in Santa Cruz and was the centers most generous patron. Joel was a stud, always in great shape, always up to have adventures and fun(like me). He would stay with me in the city after a dive trip. We would always have fun. As a diver for California Red Abalone he had to brave some very cold and sharky waters. So he carried a Glock 9mm hand gun in a special pocket in his custom wetsuit as it was effective under water. Some times we would sneak down the coast shoot bottles or go to the beach. We would see midnight movies and eat in late night diners: kids stuff. He lived in Santa Cruz payed the center rent every month. As it turns out I moved down there at the closing of the Red Abalone season so Joel was soon to leave for a 2 week warm up trip to Cabo San Lucas Mexico followed immediately by 2 1/2 months of uncrowded surf in Nosara, Costa Rica. He had a cool studio right on West Cliff Dr. by the ocean and drove turbo Saab. He gave me the keys to his car and told me to watch the place. He had Cable TV and a VCR so I was more than happy too. There I was dropped in Santa Cruz summer paradise.
I looked vigorously for work but it was the end of the summer and restaurants were cutting summer staff as the tourist season slowed. I began to surrender to a rigorous discipline of swimming, running, and writing at the beach and cool coffee shops with nightly therapeutic videos at Joel's pad. It was hell and heaven. To quote a line from Sri Aurobindo's epic poem "Savitri": " His day's were lonely, and splendid like the Sun."
My money began to run out. Joel was always flush with cash and was always cursed with change. He had seemingly endless coffee cans of silver change. This proceeded to keep me fed for 2+ months with a steady evening diet of spaghetti ($1.50) and marinara sauce($2.50) maybe a salad with lemon juice and olive oil ($3.00) A handful of quarters and I was set for the evening.
I wrote like crazy. Something about creative activities that help the process of life move forward. It's a magic that seems to grease a forward evolutionary momentum. I went through all the stages of death and finally surrendered to no job and hours of quality time. It might seem like a no brainer to some but my life in San Francisco was intense. I worked 8 hours a day 6 and sometimes 7 days a week for the past 7 years straight at Ananda Fuara restaurant. And it wasn't for the $1.50 an hour. In my off hours I logged 30+ running miles a week. Swam 4 miles a week in the pool, transcribed music for publication, sang in a singing group and a ensemble group, helped manage a road running club, put on garage sales to fund my 3 to 5 meditation classes that I and my sister did a week which means I had to poster for those classes every week. I could go on add nauseam but you get the picture. Working hard was easy for me, Not working that was real work. The feeling and pressure of group living, being watched, feeling closed in by disciples and the constant stress of community activities gone in a second.
In early October I got up early in the morning and after a great meditation there it was like a Mike Tyson hook. The confident, divinely inspired urge to get a job that very day. A few hours later I was a waiter at Hobie's Restaurant in Santa Cruz. The beginning point of my reentry into the world.