Skip to main content

The Last Buffalo

Many years ago I lived in brick building on the corner of Second Avenue and 4th Street in Greenwich Village. I was living there with three dancers from NYU. It was a magical time. It was a time when possibility ran through my veins. It was a time when Life was a merry-go-round. Once on all control was lost and once off the dizziness was overwhelming. It was a time of pushing boundaries and struggling to gain awareness.

In other words it was raw. The scrapes and bruises were real – and I gave as good as I got. 20 years old and living large as possible. In those days my mind was into Lao Tzu and Herman Hesse and Buddhism and the chivalry of martial arts. We ate Szechuan food almost nightly and drank red wine on the stoops. We threw parties and stayed up all night watching the lights go out in the street as the sun came up over the East River.

Yet in my heart I was a spotted pony running across the prairie. The city was not my home. Too much humanity packed too tightly and not enough nature to keep it real. I had moved to NYC from Montana. And I missed the silence and solitude of the big sky state. I loved the idea of being merged with the earth. To me back then the Native Americans embodied that ideal. I wished I had lived in that time when there were no roads except that which a man created in his desire. The land was wide open, the earth full of life and alive. In a way I was trying to live in both worlds while living in the Village.

One afternoon lying in bed after making love with one of the dancers I fell asleep and into a dream. In this dream Manhattan was all overgrown. The yellow cabs were all gone and the trucks as well. The buildings were all empty. I didn’t see any people on the sidewalks. I was standing under the arch in Washington Square park looking north up Fifth Avenue. I could hear a faint rumble in the distance. As I peered up Fifth Avenue I could make out shapes coming towards me. The noise got louder and approaching me was a huge herd of buffalo. They were stampeding down the avenue towards the park. As they moved the vibration was so great that the buildings crumbled as the herd passed leaving huge dust clouds in their wake.

I awoke suddenly and felt out of breath. My girlfriend was staring at me. She asked me what was wrong. She said I had a wild look in my eyes. I started to cry, slowly at first, one tear at a time, then I began sobbing. I’m sure she thought I was having a nervous breakdown. I felt like my heart was breaking. I was trying to say something through my grief. Suddenly I blurted out that they killed all the buffalo. That all the buffalo were gone and were never to return. Now I know my girlfriend was concerned by the look in her eyes. But to her credit she just gathered me up in her arms and held me for a long time while I cried and cried about the buffalo and their untimely demise.

To this day I don’t know why I reacted like that except to say it felt like a memory of a time long ago. It felt like a crack in my soul that light flooded into.

In to a place where I had never been or seen before. My heart softened that day in a place of concrete and steel. It felt like compassion.

It felt like after a hard rain and the sun breaks free. Everything all sparkly and clean.

That warm remembrance of a time gone by…

Thanks for reading.

J

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Waking Up with the What Ifs

Apparently last night I had been dreaming of a life I left behind 11 years ago.  Snippets of memory like peering through a gauzy veil, and scenes vaguely reminiscent of my life as a builder in a small coastal town north of Boston. I woke up with the What Ifs. You know how dreams are: like your eyes can’t completely focus, situations that are seemingly disconnected but maybe not, faces you know but can’t place, yet the feeling in the dream is quite real. I was back in Old Town and trying to figure out why the house I was in was unfinished. There was a meeting to be had there, but it was just me. I walked down a cobbled street to what I figured to be the office of the architect and it was a room of all glass and about 10 people seated around a glass table. I tried to get the attention of the man who was the architect on this particular job without disrupting the meeting. He looked like a friend who wasn’t an architect but a realtor and a neighbor.  I wondered how he switched care

Losing His Hero

Today in my morning meditation I was strongly feeling my middle brother David who passed away almost two months ago on November 20, 2023. He was 71 years old. A bit of preface here: He also was my abuser growing up (to clarify: emotional and physical, not sexual) and although I had reconciled those experiences through my own inner trauma work we never spoke directly about that time in our lives. We were never very close in our young adulthood although he was very generous when I moved to Encinitas CA to participate in don Miguel Ruiz’s Dreaming School in 2002. He and his wife Carol lived two towns over in Solana Beach. We interacted quite a bit sharing meals and dog walks on the beach and David took a real interest in my son Nick who was 12 at the time. It wasn’t until 20 years later that I became fully aware to the degree of harm I experienced at the hands of my brother while involved in some somatic therapy around my CPTSD diagnosis. I was becoming repeatedly trigg

St. Valentines Day

I find it odd that we pick a day in February to celebrate the heart, the emotion of Love, the honoring of those we love. What apparently morphed from some racy pagan festivity into a more buttoned down Christian celebration has now become synonymous with the greeting card maker Hallmark. Hmmm. Regardless of this days origins it has been firmly established in the American psyche (not sure about other countries). Forgetting this day for your beloved, your kids, maybe even your pets, is tantamount to being un-loving. A slouch in the Love department. Nobody wants to be that. What about honoring yourself on this day? Congratulating yourself for making it this far on your journey? And along the way how much love was expressed? How open was your heart as you navigated relationships and all the challenges relationships can reveal? On my late afternoon walk with my two dogs back home these were the thoughts running round my head. And checking in with my heart it felt a bit sad.