Change, Moving Forward

Change is the only constant in this physical experience; thus, change has occurred with the move to a new Blog. From this point forward I'll be posting on the new Blog, so please visit it to keep track of the adventures, and please feel free to use this Blog as a reference point to see where I've been along this journey. Thank you for visiting.

The Legal Name Change

Shortly after my arrival in Austin to visit two clients, a dear friend needed some assistance. There are no accidents and everything happens for a reason, we just have to open our hearts, minds, and eyes to see, and to be open to what may happen. My being in Austin led to being able to assist a dear friend and give her the gift of my time. It was a "win, win" situation as she provided me with a place to rest and a car to drive; and I provided her with assistance until her return.

For the past week I've been assisting my friend and while I had the time here in Austin, I began the process of completing my name change. I had started this process some years ago, but never saw it through. Now, after having my finger prints done, filed the court documents, and saw the judge, I am now legally Sebastian Barrett St.Troy. Today I completed the paper work at the Social Security office, which will also correct my Medicare information. I should have my new cards within a week. Next is to change the Drivers License, various Insurances, and some banks. Today I also managed to complete the paperwork for Regions Bank.

Because of many factors, I've decided to begin celebrating my birthday on the date of my legal name change, afterall it is the date I was born as Sebastian. Therefor, July 20 will be my new birthdate.

The countdown to the next chapter of the Adventure has begun. I'll be departing Austin on the 27th. I've decided to continuously take the first bus out of the station from Dallas and then after that continue with the first bus out that heads either North or in the direction of East or West so I can head to a coast and then up to Canada. Once in Canada, I'll be taking various buses to cross the country to get to the other coast and then back down through the states. I hope to visit many places I have never been to, meet people I wouldn't have normally met, and revive my spirits with the constant energy of change.

I'll be writing about the Adventure and through all of the upcoming events I know that things will be revealed as to where I should be and what I should be doing. The next chapter of the Adventure begins in 6 days, but for now I'm completing all of the things required for the name change and helping my friend.

A Feeling of Peace

A feeling of peace surrounded my dreams, so I awoke feeling much better today; which was a welcomed aspect compared to the last few days of depression. But I suppose I owed myself the right to feel loss, loss of the people called family, loss of all of my earthly possessions, loss of my beautiful gardens, and loss of my home. The dreams of last night I cannot now recall, however, the feeling that a presence in them told me it was all OK put my mind and body at rest. Excitement is starting to build as I prepare for my new bus adventure around the United States and into Canada. I’ve always wanted to visit Canada, so that is where I’m heading first, especially the Yukon Territories.

For the last four days I‘ve been in pain with my foot, the same foot that had been injured in a fire recently, so I suppose there is some nerve damage now, but I don‘t care to visit a doctor. There are other signs of declining health, so I live with them. So many people seem to treasure life, but that is where I‘m different. I‘m not particularly, and really never have been, fond of this physical existence. I remember as a child walking through the woods looking up and saying, I‘m not supposed to be here. Now as I am older, I ponder the question if this reincarnation was a mistake or if as a child I understood something about how difficult this lifetime would be and didn‘t want to experience it; however, for what it is worth, the experiences gained here have taught me something about letting go, to learn to trust my instincts, to follow my heart, and to live the way I see fit, not doing what others say I should. As when I follow my heart I find peace and excitement, a feeling of joy about the way I live.

Most who know me already say I‘m a bit off, but I take that as a compliment, for being different these days means a lot in a world of so many who all strive to be alike. Being free of restraints provides me the feeling of freedom for being able to live in the moment and decide each second of time what it is I shall do. Perhaps in a previous life I was a nomad, as being on the move seems to be something innate. From a restless mind to a restless body, it seems being in motion is what keeps me going. I think I need the excitement of meeting new people, of experiencing everything I can. I realize that this may be my last adventure, as my health prevents me from doing much and I struggle to move most days, but I keep going. Come what may, I’m ready either way - to continue living this life or to return to the collective Universal consciousness. For now I prepare for the upcoming adventure.

The Adventure Begins

The adventure started as a means to escape a toxic environment where I was surrounded by people who I should never have been around. Yes, they were the people that most would call family, however, after many years I have come to the conclusion that just because we may be born into a group of people doesn’t mean that we have to remain connected with those same people, especially when there are great differences. I left behind everything, only taking what clothes fit into a backpack. In other countries there are many ways of getting around, however, here in the United States, there are limited options for those without a car. I found that most people in very rural areas have no way of getting into the larger cities nearby; and with the smaller communities failing, it makes it harder for the people to obtain needed services and provisions. I may write later about how I feel about the bad laws and viewpoints of society which limit the lower income, but for now I want to talk about the beginning of the adventure.

Some years ago I experienced many bad things while riding on a Greyhound bus, but after much work I achieved some compensation for my horrible experience. The people at Greyhound promised they would work to improve how things operated, so now I’m going to find out. The adventure began in Shreveport, Louisiana. I’m going to write about my thoughts, experiences and provide creative ideas on how Greyhound could improve both their image and their operations. At some point I hope that the people in Greyhound will learn about and sincerely read this Blog, and hopefully find ways to alter any of the negative aspects found along the adventure.

In Shreveport at 5:30 AM there was a gentleman cleaning up behind the counter. He didn’t notice me walking up to the counter and disappeared for a short moment. Upon his return he greeted me and asked how he could help. I asked how much a ticket to Austin was and he provided the answer. After retrieving the money from an ATM I returned to purchase my ticket. He didn’t ask for identification, only my name as he typed it into the computer. I placed my large bag onto the luggage area as he placed a ticket of some sort onto it. After he provided me my ticket I turned to walk away believing my bag would be taken and then placed on the bus; however, he quickly informed me that I had to take my bag. He never asked if I wanted the travel insurance that Greyhound offers for luggage, and at the moment I had forgotten about it so I didn’t ask. This was one of the points that I had hoped that Greyhound would improve upon, that of informing their customers about the available insurance. The gentleman behind the counter performed his job but lacked any enthusiasm. The next few hours at the bus station proved harsh. The seating in the terminal wasn’t comfortable, there was no place to store my large bag (which meant I had to lug it around with me), the station’s paint was peeling in places and overall wasn’t very clean. The only bright moment was when I purchased a soda and biscuit at the small eatery. The girls were very friendly and helpful. They knew what products they had to offer and the prices. I chatted with the three women while I sat there until a bus arrived and others began to demand their time.

When they began to announce what bus was about to board I was always confused. They would announce the bus number. I wasn’t sure why the bus number was so important, as most people didn’t know what bus number they wanted, they only needed to hear what cities the bus was going to. So perhaps instead of announcing “bus 45732 is now boarding”, they should say, “The bus for Dallas with stops and connections in …. (name the other towns where the bus would stop) … is now boarding.” I finally heard one announcer say the bus for Dallas so I grabbed up my bags and headed out to the bus. I handed off my large bag to a worker who threw it into the storage area. The bus driver took my ticket and thankfully I found a seat without anyone sitting next to me. I curled up and slept. The temperature on the bus was cool and comfortable. Although the trip to Dallas was long, I knew it would be because of the many stops the bus made along the way, I was able to rest.

Upon arrival in Dallas I had to search for my large bag and when I saw it I was able to just pick it up and walk away without anyone verifying that the bag belonged to me. This was another point that I had asked Greyhound to improve, as the current system allowed for just anyone to pick up a bag and walk away with it, which means that if I didn’t get to my bag quickly then it could have walked off with someone else. Perhaps having the luggage handlers check tickets would prevent baggage from being stolen. But then again there might be other better ways of handling baggage. Any ideas?

Tears and Changes

Tears stream, thoughts swirl, and things change as I sit here contemplating the present, past, and future. Although there are physical changes are happening, there are spiritual ones that reach past this physical being and into that of the Universal Consciousness causing life altering and far reaching alterations, not only for myself, but for those involved in my life. Last night the tears rolled as I began reading “Shambhala, The Scared Path of the Warrior” by Chogyam Trungpa. Many years ago I enjoyed a relationship with a man who followed the Shambhala teachings and I was in awe of the way he lived his life. So now I choose to alter the old ways and thoughts and begin following a new path of excellence. Meditation, reading, learning, growing, changing, reaching and becoming something more than myself is required. Perhaps knowing that positive changes are happening should allow for the enjoyment and celebration of the old as it dies. This is the way of the universe, the circle of life, a beginning and an ending of all things.

Recently someone said that I rushed through things, but I didn’t agree with that statement. Another friend clarified it for me by saying that I didn’t fully enjoy the journey and I was always moving onto the next thing before what was happening presently was finished. I realize they are correct, that I haven’t been fully enjoying the present. Thus, it is time to begin to enjoy each moment as it is without thought of what is to come next. Perhaps learning to live more fully in the moment will allow a greater enjoyment of life; which I can only hope for.

At the moment there are things happening in the universe which I will have to take note of and keep in mind while I await their revealing for my life. Perhaps that is what the tears are about, knowing that something greater than I have known is happening. Let the tears roll, let the changes happen, let the enjoyment of life begin, but now completely as Sebastian Barrett St.Troy.

The gifted Child

Sensitive, emotional, tender, and alone was the remarkable child from ages past, struggling to find a path through the darkness of life. Brought into this existence through turmoil and pain, both his own and that of those he would call parents. His birth would cause the paths of others to alter, first by his birth and later by the gifts he gives now of his talents. Never feeling that he was part of this world and always questioning why he was here, yet always knowing he lived to bring knowledge into the universal consciousness. There was always the strongest of desires to bring beauty into the world, to create environments around him that brought joy to those who visited.

By accident, or was it destiny, he was placed into various roles, although he never sought them. From being selected as one of the High Schools best art students, receiving special honors; to becoming a leader in the Air Force, elected worldwide to create the set designs for the Bob Hope television special with the Air Force in 1987; and other notable, yet seemingly insignificant roles as Christian leader, business owner, and an inspiration and friend to many, he always seemed different from others and couldn’t find a place or people he could call his own. Wondering through life, always feeling alone, he made his marks upon places and people. Curious to find some connection with others, to discover a way to belong with humanity, and all the while knowing he wasn’t part of what existed currently. There was always the knowledge of another time and place in his heart and mind, which kept him apart from this existence. The roaring 20’s, the time of Kings and magic, the slower pace of a time without technology, and a time yet to be known by others of a future where religion didn’t exist and humanity finally discovered the connectedness with all other living things, including the earth.

Laughter ruled, along with strong visual emotions, and a desire to learn (that ever curious nature to test his hands at anything, just to say he tried it) measured the earlier years. Awkwardness, doubt, and fear governed the beginning years. Friendships reigned during the middle years as other worldly child began to fit into the mainstream of society. With a flair and difference that set him apart, weighted by mistakes of the past, he walked alone and into the darkness that ruled the last years. This ever so bright, gifted and remarkable child grew into the depressed, desensitized and untrusting man of today. It is that man that sits alone in the darkness listening to the sounds of the chimes and writes, hoping to reconnect with that lost child of times so seemingly long ago, almost forgotten. Now longing for the departure from this painful existence, he ponders where that loving child has gone. Have the ravages of time, disappointment, and pain caused such an alteration?

Only now has he begun to remember, remembrance usually only through tears of people, places, and things of the past. Remembering the pain inflicted by others, which caused the child to change, along with the heartbreak caused by selfish acts darkened the brightly colored world. The man of today lives alone within his own creative mind, always escaping into the worlds he designs in order to find the joy of being. With every passing day he retreats finding it harder to feel apart of those around him, all the while desiring to be connected. He awakens every morning questioning why he was not allowed to alter his state of being from physical to pure energy, and this only after sleepless evenings. Complimented by others only deepens the rift between being connected and feeling further distanced. Through the darkness some light still shines, but only when rediscovered by retreating into his imaginary world.

The child of yesterday that held so much promise has faded, yet still reaches for more as the man of today longs for release. Release from the personally assigned chains of being so different, from the unforgiving self of past wrongs, and from the increasing difficulties of the present. Will he be remembered and for what? Perhaps that child followed the path in order to discover something, to learn. Now, only perceived time passes while the man of today awaits to be rejoined with the universal consciousness he always felt part of. Please remember him, not for the darkness that currently overwhelms, but for the loving, tender child with a gift for humanity, that gift of creativity and beauty. Forgive him for the mistakes of the past as he struggles to forgive himself.

Excitement and a zest for enjoying life marked most of the child’s life as he experienced everything he could, learning, growing and eventually releasing the constraining ideology of religion and embracing the love and acceptance of the universal consciousness, which freed him from old ways and brought him into new levels of awareness. Assisting people find ways to alter their environments; he passed the days of the last years. Now, he designs buildings through 3D models, gifting them to others on the web. You see, this child isn’t a stranger, he is me.

The Death of a Dream.

Dream – noun
1. a succession of images, thoughts, or emotions passing through the mind during sleep.
2. the sleeping state in which this occurs.
3. an object seen in a dream.
4. an involuntary vision occurring to a person when awake.
5. a vision voluntarily indulged in while awake; daydream; reverie.
6. an aspiration; goal; aim:
7. a wild or vain fancy.
8. something of an unreal beauty, charm, or excellence.

Dreaming has been a part of what makes me who I am. When things were bad in life, I would dream. When things were great in life, I would dream bigger. Some might call it fantasy, but for me it’s dreaming. There are many types of people in the world, and I’m one of the dreamers. Dreaming has the potential for beautiful creations, inspiring others, and the ability to take a person into the darkest depths of despair, at least when the dreaming cannot continue.

My creativity is derived from my dreaming of how things can be, or at least how I believe they should be. Wishing harm to others has never been part of the dreaming, only a strong desire to see people accepting each other, believing in something more than themselves, and hoping that life would find a way to achieve some sense of harmony. Lately the dreams are dying, even the desire to dream has faded.

There once was a family that had a lot of fun together, yes, there were plenty of bad moments; however, overall the family seemed to love and care for each other. That is until one fateful day when things changed. Ever since the bomb of my mother’s marriage to my first cousin (a man not related to her, but younger than my older brother) went off, the family has never been able to find a way to overcome all of the problems that the situation caused. Things progressively moved from bad to horrendous. Now, after multiple attempt of reconciliation, the dream of a family has ended; that is at least for me.

I cannot endure the pain and the trouble of hypocritical people that say they are Christians, yet have no understanding of the principles taught by just the mere acknowledging “I am a Christian” means. There are many reasons I left the Baptist church and tossed Christianity away as some misguided attempt of someone to control the masses and as a plaque upon the world; however, when I see those that proclaim daily, “Thank you, Jesus!,” “Bless God!” and many other such sayings living a life so distant from what their words proclaim. Some may wonder why I appear to be so against a religion that so many believe so strongly about, that is easy, they are blind and when asked to explain what it is they believe they have no real answer, only something that has been taught to them without an understanding of what it is they say they believe in. Besides, only Christianity has actively destroyed cultures, civilizations, and sought to rid of the world of anything that, at least according to their bible, wasn’t correct. Yet, if only they really understood their bible and what it taught, then they would understand they have all been wrong; mainly because they haven’t lived what it teaches.

The time is over for chances to reconcile, now is the time to move forward and let those of the past remain in the past. The name change that was put off for so long is the new dream, as there is no desire to ever be called by the same name of the women who used to be called mother. The new name, one I’ve used legally for years, will now be the only name; the family name forgotten. Now the time for personal healing is to begin with the release of what caused so much pain.

The dream has died, along with so many others associated with it. The death of this dream might just be the death of it all, as there is no desire to keep going, only the desire for it all to end. There isn’t even the desire to try traveling again. It seems that the death of one dream has made the rest of them disappear forever. Even the idea, that anyone other than my father, might benefit from all of the things I have paid for, worked for, or have enjoyed causes such anger that I fear what a Bi-polar depression might bring about. Only the thoughts of how to remove everything from here, even if it means that at some point it all just goes away. I would prefer to see a stranger benefit than anyone of my family.

Some might see the anger and suggest that I resolve it, however, I believe I shall retain the anger, as for now it is what is giving me the strength and encouragement to do the things that are required now. Beginning with determining where I am going to live, that is if I don’t just pack it all in and set off again to travel. For now, only the mourning for a dream, that shouldn’t have been allowed to exist, dies. Something, that perhaps may be the death of everything.

The Place I call HOME

From as far back as I can remember I have always held one place deeply in my heart, the farm that my grandparents owned. It was where I spent my summers and vacations riding my horses; raising my water fowl, chickens and dogs; spent time with my grandmother gardening; and where I always came when I needed to think and recover from the harsh unrealistic world outside.

From the age of 15 I lived here with my grandmother, because my mother married my first cousin on my father's side of the family. After many struggles I left my mother's home and greatly enjoyed living here on the farm. It is very peaceful here, quit, and used to be full of magic; that is until my mother who stole the farm from my grandmother had the property clear cut, which sent the magic away. Over the last 15 years my mother has allowed her husband to destroy the beauty and magic of this place, much to my dismay.

I would have lived here most of my life, however, my mother moved here after stealing it from grandmother and neither grandmother or myself wanted to live here with her and her husband. My mind wonders what my life would have been like if I could have lived here peacefully over the years and what differences there would have been.

Now, while I was in Austin working, my father called me to ask if I knew what my mother was doing. I didn't have any idea, but quickly learned from him that my mother had listed the farm for sale. Yes, I did call her immediately, very angry. Being angry means that you actually love something and have a passion for it. After trying calmly to inquire what she was doing, the anger jumped into full force. From this moment forward I have no mother, as she hasn't been my real mother for over 20 years now, ever since she married "it" - that's what I call him, her husband, because he is a real piece of shit.

Upon my return to Louisiana, I quickly filed a lien against the property and am now filing a lawsuit against her to save the family farm. As I look out my cabin window onto the peaceful waters of the pond, across into the new regrowing forest, I find it impossible to believe that one day another person could own what I see beyond the pond.

Last Friday, when the light of the full moon shown through the darkness of the clouds, at the stroke of midnight, I walked to the black top road where our gravel road begins and cast a protective spell for the family farm. A line from sacred salt was placed across the driveway and to each of the corner posts of the property. While placing the protective salt line I asked the spirits to protect the farm from any person outside of the family from coming onto the property for the purpose of buying it, to save the one place I call home. After this was accomplished I cast another spell to have my mother's husband removed from the property forever.

Over the last few days I have searched my soul to see why I care so much about this place, if I should try to save it (a promise I made to my grandmother), and what I should do - let it all go and move away, stay and fight for it all, or continue to stay here.

The fight begins, and with the writing of these my thoughts, I ask the universe, the spirits, the angels, the faeries, the animals, and the spirits of ancestors past to assist me in protecting the one place I have ever called home.

My mother has always held this place because of selfish motives, not out of a love for the place, she has destroyed it. I know that I can restore the simple splendor of the place, the magic, the beauty, but only if I can gain the deed for the property. My intentions are not to own it myself, but to put the property into a trust, so it will be preserved for future generations to enjoy. Dad and I have been working on ideas of how we can make the farm prosper and pay for itself and one day the property will be protected. The one place I have ever called home will be given to the one person who loves it, who will protect it, who will make it beautiful again.

For now, I struggle with my thoughts and feelings about what I love, and now the mother that I will forever more have nothing to do with, for she has shown her real self, a person I desire no dealings with, except for one - her signing over the property. So good bye to her and her husband and hello to being able to restore and save the place I call home.

Success with haunted thoughts.

Questions, thoughts, regrets, amazing accomplishments reigned in the past, but now only a lingering desire remain. Growing up wasn’t an easy experience, as I always knew I was extremely different from the other members of my family. Throughout elementary, middle and high school every day was a confirmation of just how different I was, not only from my family, but from just about everyone. It seemed that I lived in a different world, thought differently, acted differently, believed differently, and all the while wondering where did I fit in? During the younger days I just lived life, enjoyed dancing, socializing, and of course way too much romancing. Then things just fell into place, as I wasn’t actively trying to accomplish anything, but there the awards and kudos were. I remember the torturous days of work as we created the sets for the 1987 Bob Hope Flying High Birthday Extravaganza. We worked almost 20 hours a day doing all of the painting, designing, and building. It was all worth it when I met the most incredible man one night when I took a break and went out in San Antonio.

I couldn’t believe this incredible looking man standing in front of me in all white linen, the lines of his ripped muscles elegantly draped, was actually asking me to dance. It was an ego boost for sure, but then he was added to the many others who served just that same purpose. Always desiring to be loved, but never feeling that I could be or even able to return such love only led to being alone. Over the years there were many wonderful men, and as I think about them now I wish I could have done some things differently. Thank you to all of you, the men in my life. Life, it’s that thing that happens while we live.

Living was something I enjoyed, yet because of the feelings of being so different and never feeling that I belonged, the thought of not being here haunted my ever dreaming mind. Now that same haunt is torn by the desire to please the clients who have become such incredible friends. The pull of starting, building, and getting the nursery going has devastated my being to a point that the old haunted thoughts grow ever stronger. It’s ironic in many ways that the one place I ever called home is the one place that now causes so much pain. Growing up here on the farm wasn’t something that brought great joy as I felt I belonged here and my grandmother’s love, support and encouragement fostered a love of gardening, of being myself, and of this place.

The farm has changed, but not for the better. Over the years after my mother forced my grandmother to sign over the land, my mother has allowed her husband to basically trash the farm, filling it with rubbish of old tractors, odds and ends from truck parts, old cars, and together they have treated the land with ill intent. It’s sad for me to be here and see how it has become, especially when I work so hard to improve the few acres where I call home now (not even my own land, but my sister’s, and she nor her family care anything about the land.). My love of this place far exceeds that of any of the others, and I suppose that is why they withhold it from me.

The undesired success of youth is now only a memory while the new desires to build a successful business strain every fiber of my being. Is this what other entrepreneurs go through? The struggle of giving up so much in order to purchase materials, pay the bills and keep the business going. I know from having many other businesses over the years that there are times that making it all work is a struggle, but in the past there always seemed to be some energy behind everything making the success. Now it seems the energy is gone, or is it? I see it when I see my father working with me in the garden or greenhouse, I see it in the continued support of clients, and I see it when everything seems dim a light shines to show the way. Now the struggle is to determine to stay or go, because those haunted thoughts keep raging stronger with each passing day. I know at some point I will welcome the next level of energy (as some of you call death) as I know it is where I belong, back into the universal consciousness with hopes of returning to a world that makes sense. For now, there are the clients who so appreciate my work that I keep going, because it seems that through it all I did find a place to belong, but on my own terms, being who I am – Sebastian or Lynn – maybe that’s why I’m always torn. But alas, I am both men, now with a lingering desire to know love.