Conversations on the Road - 1995-96
After relocating 45 miles from Billings to the tiny town of Lavina (population then around 180), the idea to share with other Unity Churches came to mind. Letters offering Conversations on the Heart and Soul of Healing on a donation basis went out to many churches in the western states. Phone conversations occurred with interested parties and I even traveled ahead of time to most of the dozen churches which decided to sponsor an event.
Eventually, The Portable School traveled thousands of miles in our little Toyota pickup to share Conversations on the Heart and Soul of Healing. From Montana, we forayed as far as Washington to Iowa and Arizona to Idaho. Churches in Colorado, Oregon, New Mexico, and Minnesota also hosted the program.
More than a few times driving over long highways in barren western states, I had to ask myself “What am I doing this for? I know hardly anybody at these places. I will only spend a few days and be gone and I may reap little of no income. What possesses me to do this?”
Well, I had no good answer for my own queries. But, I did have some great experiences, covered lots of miles seeing wide swathes of the Western states, and met some fine people while stimulating some to think and relate no doubt in ways outside their usual manner. I collected a number of testimonials as well as friendships. Most of the latter were short-lived while a few persist almost thirty years later.
I, however, went in debt rather than making an income from the venture. I found that freewill donations are often not freely or willingly shared. Unity Churches often preach prosperity but don’t necessarily manifest it. But then, my retort to that idea is that prosperity of the material is often fleeting and ultimately rather irrelevant. Spiritual vitality is of much more import. Physical and financial well-being at best only allow us more avenues to share.
While breaking even financially a few times, I was warmly surprised on my second stop on the road at the small town of Show Low, Arizona. I got a very positive response from the church president and visited Linda ahead of time somehow, reappearing several days before my weekend “show.” That event at Unity of the White Mountains in 1995 was the pinnacle of all my teaching travels in a number of ways.
I stayed at the home of Ralph Robinson, a church member. Then, I started getting to know people and presented myself at a Wednesday church study group. It was a much livelier and younger one than I was used to. The group was led by Sylvia, who managed to keep things together and stay mostly on target amidst some levity and carryings-on.
I learned or re-learned a few things from that study group meeting. The first came from the leader who decided to recount how she had at some recent time started telling a “harmless joke.” But, she repeated her joke too many times to friends and, in particular, to family members who were followers of evangelist and healer Oral Roberts. Her intention was to get a rise out of her kin. But, it backfired.
With animation and theatrics, Sylvia told that Oral had died and gone to heaven. When Saint Peter discovered who his new guest was, he was elated and overjoyed. “THE Oral Roberts? Oh, my. Are we glad to see you. We have been looking forward to your joining us.”
Saint Peter eventually got the word through Jesus on up the line and Oral was invited to stand before the Almighty One. Roberts was thrilled and humbled at the same time. Soon, he was brought into the Almighty’s Presence. After just a few pleasantries and bows, GOD stared beseechingly at the newcomer for a moment. “Oral. Oral. I need your help. Yes, I do.”
“Anything I can do, my LORD. Please say it and it will be as good as done.”
“Oral. Oral, I have a pain right here,” said GOD, as he pointed to HIS shoulder.
The story was funny, although it didn’t go over well with family members. It also boomeranged on Sylvia. In the midst of her repeated tale telling, Sylvia developed a frozen shoulder – in that same shoulder to which she pointed time and again. She eventually had to take herself to see an orthopedist for help. (Roberts wasn’t available.) It was quite a learning opportunity and Sylvia was repentant, at least for the moment. ***
Sylvia’s group was composed of a dozen or so people. Standing out amongst them was a blonde-haired, blue-eyed, cheery-faced, New York comedienne. BeBe was constantly wisecracking and keeping the group awake and involved. BeBe had bits of the trickster and the elf and a few other mischievous roles in her. She carried more than her share of blarney as well, playing the part of Bridget O’Flynn from time to time.
Bridget O'Flynn, young lady, was that you sneakin' in?
Now look at the state of your Sunday clothes!
Look at your shoes and your new silk hose!
Why, you've been doin' the rumba, I suppose.
There was something else though about BeBe that captured my attention. It felt like deja vu, but not quite. Meeting BeBe was surely a repeat experience. A reprise performance from another time. I surely had known her somewhere and sometime before. I recognized her. Although the details were and are understandably a bit hazy.
BeBe joined in the weekend workshop festivities. There was a big turnout on Friday night for the opener and good attendance the other days, and even generous donations. BeBe was in the middle of things again. During the opening session, she did a pencil sketch of the speaker and presented it to me before my visit was over. The drawing made me look angelic. Quite a compliment, but maybe it was really a self portrait.
During the weekend program, I couldn’t help noticing that there was a lot of energy passing between O’Flynn and an almost 90-year-old woman named Millie. They sat next to each other and traded jokes. Palling around, obviously enjoying each other’s company.
Before my stay in Show Low was over, I had a “date” with BeBe. The church president had won a consult I had donated and she passed it on to BeBe. We met at a park near her home and walked and talked about her life – her little daughter Ellie, and her husband Herschel. ***
I don’t recall any major revelations coming from the meeting. But BeBe and I hit it off. She got me invited back for a reprise at Unity of the White Mountains the following year. I stayed on her family’s property during the program, got to know her husband, daughter, and “fluff-bucket” dog. Then, we kept in touch during difficult days which culminated in the death of Herschel and her moving back to her home town on Long Island, New York. But, there is more. She introduced by mail and phone to best friends Ginger Allen in New York City and Joe King in Kansas City. Those two became my best friends as well and caused us to travel back and forth between our very distant abodes.
We – the School – learned a whole lot on the road while encouraging people in the seats learn, share and even heal. Our own greatest reward was the gift of friends recovered – surely known from distant times. ***
