Kuna woman from Panama

One of the things that I value most about the opportunity to do this project, is that now approaching two years, it has become a frame, a window, to view my life and its patterns. I see myself, I am beginning to know myself, my strengths, my weaknesses, what gets me up and keeps me going, what makes me stumble and stop, and what helps me to get back on the road of my life.

I found this video today, looking for another video to post (now that the website is back up!). I didn’t have the opportunity to see this video when it first came out, as I left walking, crossing over the border into Mexico when it was released.

Again, I am in the same place, but in a different location, now in Panama City, getting ready and gearing up to cross the Darien Gap, perhaps the most difficult border yet, and perhaps not difficult at all as I have yet to try. And the story is the same. I am in a comfortable location in Panama City, a city that I quite enjoy, and when I look towards the next step, it “looks like” from what others tell me, not a fun place to go.

Over 100 miles of roadless dense jungle, from Yavisa, Panama, to HWY 62 in Colombia, a region infested with landmines, drug traffickers, the Colombian guerilla movement FARC, paramillitaries, a recent outbreak of equestrian encephalitis, denge fever, malaria, and it is actually illegal to cross. I face the prospect of being jailed when I enter into Colombia, that is if the Panamanian police allow me to walk beyond Boca de Cupe. 10 FARC soldiers have been killed in Panamanian raids over the last 2 months, increasing tensions, and there is more…rainy season, food, drinkable water, money (should I carry it?), most important: coming back to my children…and the list goes on.

Yet, what if this is all in my mind, all in my thinking that is stopping me from making this next leap of faith? Is taking this next step be an unnecessary thing? Why don’t I just go to Cartegena in Colombia and make up distance that I would have walked had I crossed the Darien.

All these issues and more, unresolved at the moment, my fears keeping me paralyzed and not able to move from Panama City, where I am working, raising money to purchase the things I need to make this crossing safely and successfully, utimately knowing in my heart that all it takes is to get off the couch to produce what has never been done before, to break the patterns of always the same happening over and over…to face what is uncomfortable in my life without the fear that stops me.

Sending out a special thanks to Mikki and Nadia at Elevate films for all they do. Their life and those at Elevate committed to others always. Thank you.

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Oct. 14 2008

I want to thank everyone who wrote with there concern. I am safe, there are plenty others who have been affected, much more than me, to say the least.

As the picture shows, I was heading toward the fire most of the day. The same NE Santa Ana winds that stoked the fire, blew the smoke away from me and out to sea for most of the day.

Pedestrians were barred from using the bike route through Camp Pendleton…it would normally have closed at 5PM, I wasn’t there till 6. I had to walk/run on hwy 5 for about 9 miles.

The fire seemed about 2 miles away, maybe more as I walked along hwy 5. I couldn’t see flames, it was on the other side of the hill, but I could see the bright orange glow.

When I arrived in oceanside, it was raining ash. Many people were evacuated. Jennifer and I met and prayed for a deaf woman who wasn’t able to take with her much else but her cat.

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October 13, 2008

A wonderful person in Laguna Beach suggested I stop by Saddleback Church in Lake Forest, pastored by Rick Warren, author of the Purpose Driven Life.

Jennifer and I drove to Lake Forest (don’t worry, she dropped me off today at the point where I left off) and were duly impressed by the fruits of Saddleback Church.

Authentic and approachable, with a practical message to his church, Pas. Warren delivered a sermon on Love and vs. Anger in relationships that made a difference, that asked us to really RETHINK our programming in our response to others. That as taught by Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount, our thoughts are the foundation for our actions toward one another (there was much more…check out www.saddleback.com).

I want to acknowledge and thank Pastor Rick Warren for welcoming Jennifer and I with open arms.

I wake up dew covered with people now parking just feet from where I slept. Walking till early in the morning, I slept late and rise with a rush to escape the heat of the day, the heat of my sleeping bag, the heat of my clothing. I change my clothes and pack my gear and head into Cappy’s Diner on PCH to plug in my phone. The waitresses are moved by the project, especially by the prayers. Two waitresses take prayers to pray with and one writes a prayer in the back room. They offer to buy me breakfast. I order a yogurt and coffee. One waitress comes out as I am leaving to bring me what she can offer. Crackers and napkins and a pen.

Oct. 12 2008
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The next day I wake up refreshed, renewed, and blessed by the hospitality of strangers. Iben and Robert recommend that I stop at the running store down the street for blister cream and moleskin.

Arriving at the running store, the owner is ecstatic about the project. I went in for a simple skin treatment and leave with pair of new shoes. A pair of new Brooks shoes and a hat. A pair of new shoes, a hat, and at least $50 worth of sunscreen. And electrolyte powders, vitamins, protein shakes, that last me through Tecate.

The unseen waves we make when we gift others are often unheard and thankless. A ripple effect of gifting shoes from a small shop owner in Long Beach ends with a sponsorship from Brooks, the shoe brand that fit me best.
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A sign above a church entrance, urging people to find treasure where you are. God is everywhere!

I left Olive for Main. Industry is quiet on  Sunday night.

Here, my path is tarmac, paved 28 miles straight through Watts, Compton, Willmington, and Long Beach. Warehouses turn residential, cast in yellow incandescent light against cheap buildings adorned with Gregorian windows and doric poticos with peeling paint revealing its true self.

This is the main street, Main St., and here there are no supermarkets, not even fast food really. Here there are apartments as many blocks east as you can see from Main in the dark. The number of churches fascinate me for a while and I am careful taking pictures with my phone. There is a church called “New Pilgrim”. I endevour to take pictures of every church I see, then I get bored, or scared.

Occasionally I pass bars still open, open-air Mexican food stands, auto body repair shops, the Virgin of Guadalupe painted on a building. The streets are empty.

The random people I pass are indigent, pushing shopping carts in the street, one walks on the opposite side of the street, parallel with me for 2 miles, his hoodie pulled up. I judge him. Another rounds a corner, sees me and askes for a light. He asks if I am from the streets and if I have seen his wife. I tell him no and he continues down the street just south of the 105 freeway calling for her like a lost dog.

While on the facade, I am walking from Los Angeles to Brazil, carrying prayers, this project already seems so much more. For months as I planned I saw the fears come up. The stories,that we make up about people and places we have never been, that we hold as true. The stories that keep us from going here, doing work there, the stories that tell us there are a limited amount of possibilities for us in life. 

I find it more than ironic, that during this planning stage, I was almost as concerned about walking through this section of Los Angeles in the dark, as I am about the other places further south. I walk here with this irony, a dramatic tension, crossing the borders of fears, doubts, worries, places I am not supposed to go at all, yet alone on foot. I walk with this irony in my own mind, expressing here in type, of both having the fears, and leaving them behind, relating to people in a new way, releasing my stories, my judgements, and finding that everything here is perfect. I hope I will find the same further south. 

iAMwalking.org movie from Christopher Howe on Vimeo.

It was clear upon leaving the elated Elevate Film Festival, amidst the fanfare, the red (green) carpet, that so much more is possible than we imagine, and that I really had no idea how to do what I had imagined, what I had seen. I had no idea about the places, people, circumstances, and challenges I would face.

I heard the background noise of my thoughts, influenced by others, influenced by the news, influenced by my fear of other people, of places unfamiliar. I listened to another voice, the voice of a child who conquers his fear of nijas in a dark hallway.

That first night I walked, beginning at 10:30 pm (approximately), leaving from the heart of Los Angeles, walking through Downtown LA at night, past bums and their makeshift shelters, past people I had never noticed before. I am on their level, here I notice and am now mindful of their existence and what that could mean for me. Now mindful too of my inner dialogue as I pass them, careful not to disturb their rest. As one stirs, I shudder. Their lean-tos propt up against the concrete walls of bridges above remind me of Addis.

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