Wednesday, September 16, 2015


by Ray Jason

The sailor within me was concerned.  But the poet within me was delighted.  This was no ordinary squall that was approaching from the north.  It was so gray and dark and menacing that it looked like molten lead as it churned across the bay towards me.  So I slipped behind a small mangrove island where I dropped my sails and set the anchor. 
As I was finishing that task, the deluge descended.  A burst of wind tipped AVENTURA over to starboard.  It also toppled me gently down onto the cabin top.  I laughed as I wondered whether the deepening voyage into my Middle Years was beginning to compromise my balance. 
When I began to lift myself up to go below and retreat from the rain, a primal voice from across the centuries prompted me stay where I was.  So I closed my eyes while lying on my back and let the warm equatorial downpour saturate me.  Within a couple of minutes the rain softened - and I felt an almost blissful contentment as I let it wash over me. 
I was not experiencing any deep philosophical insights, but there was a vague sense that if I remained there something might be revealed to me.  And a few minutes later this is precisely what occurred, but much differently from what I might have expected. 
Suddenly, I noticed that there was another person 15 yards away.   An Indio fisherman had silently rowed his cayuco nearby and was grinning over at me.  My ”laughing in the rain” behavior was very different from what he had witnessed with most gringos.  He paddled closer and quietly asked me if I was okay.  I sheepishly replied that I was fine.  Then we both smiled and he turned back to his quest for dinner.

Thursday, September 3, 2015


by Ray Jason            

            When the bus unloaded us at the Great Wall of China, our tour guide and her flock headed off in one direction, while I snuck off on my own.  Such behavior was symbolic of my life in general.  To escape the herd and transcend the humdrum has been a constant theme on my meandering Path.  That contrary to ordinary behavior rewarded me splendidly on that day, and it has continued to do so down the decades.    
            We had been instructed to “stay with our guide” who would mother hen us along the acceptable route over the rebuilt part of the wall.  But that beautifully restored section held little allure for me.  What sang to my wandering heart was the massive serpentine rubble that undulated across the hilltops and off into the misty distance.