This has been a long time coming.
Many years ago, on my first solo cross-country journey, I wound up in a small town outside of Taos, New Mexico.
To be honest, I’d thought perhaps I’d skip Taos. I wason some pretty strict cash management. I was driving a ten year old Chevy Blazer with a dying fuel pump and I was going from Asheville, North Carolina, to Mendocino county in northern California with maybe a thousand dollars. I had some designs on where I hoped to stop and rest along the way, but the closer I got to New Mexico the less confident I felt in my ability to make my money last while simultaneously “checking out northern New Mexico.”
It was about 2am and I was exhausted and swervy on the highway, and my tank was nearing empty so I pulled off on the next exit to fill up and maybe take a nap.
That gas station was actually about 4 miles off the exit down a long, two-lane road. I filled the tank and out of curiosity, looked at the atlas (yes, back then, we used an actual atlas to navigate).
I was on the two-lane road that went from the interstate into Taos.
It seemed like a message.
I drove for a while but I couldn’t tell whether the coyotes and eight-point bucks I was seeing along the side of the road were real or not. It was time to pull over and sleep. I made a bed in the back of the Blazer and told myself I’d wake up at the crack of dawn the next morning and drive into Taos and find out why I was being pulled right into it.
That next morning, someone whispered my name quite loudly in my ear. I opened my eyes to see the morning star popping up over a distant mountain range. I started the car and headed for Taos.
A series of synchronicities took place there that began with a cup of coffee, a ride through a small town called Arroyo Seco, and a sweat lodge later that night in which I learned from the Diné guy that very often, things don’t happen for certain people until “wisdom hair” comes in.
That was over a decade ago.
I was in my 30s at the time. Now I am in my 40s and the wisdom hair is coming in fast and furiously, and it’s time for me to perform a social responsibility. I live in a small town at the base of a huge mountain in northern California with my daughter, my partner, a dog or two and a big fluffy Maine Coon cat. We have crammed ourselves into a tiny little cabin surrounded by trees and in our voluntary simplicity, life has been very, very good to us.
In examining my skills over the course of the past 20+ years of being a working adult, it’s apparent that the only thing I’ve ever done consistently involves working with words. I write. I have written. I will have written. I will write. Always. Technology and I have been friends since its popular beginnings; it comes easily to me, just like words do. Here’s where I can be of service.
Abundant Content is born.