So tomorrow I begin again. Stepping off the cliff into the unknown isn’t easy at anytime.

I’m putting on the tunic again. There comes a point where I have to step into the telephone booth and become the peace I wish to see in the world. Clark Kent has to be put away, so that the greater good can be served. It isn’t a compulsion, but rather a decision not taken lightly and one which sees many things sacrificed before its alter. Superman must sacrifice who Clark could be in order to be…love.

I’ve been able to bask in the love of friends, best friends, family, and children in the last two weeks. It is because they know me so well that it was important to come here. Important that they could see and experience the changes that I have made in my life. I can honestly say that I have a better relationship with every single person in my life than ever before. This is what makes it so important that I go again. It is one thing to read about it on the internet…it is another to watch me walk down the road…to know what I am walking into. Each person that I saw here had to watch me walk out their door…and into the unknown.

Perhaps some think me naive. Many worry for my safety. It is not as if I don’t know that camping out, especially near El Paso, Texas isn’t statistically “dangerous” perhaps even odious. Across the river, 35,000 people were killed in Juarez last year alone. Yet where else would you presume a peace pilgrim to go? Freedom Riders that went to the south knew what they were getting into. Those who challenged the salt mines in India with peaceful non-violence knew what they were getting themselves into. It was my Uncle Saeed that summed it up best. He said, “He has replaced his fear with love. How absolutely free he must feel.” To which I would add, the greatest freedom comes when doing something kind for others volitionally, especially when you would be within your accepted “rights” not to

Many have gone out of their way to see me while here, and I’ve spent over two weeks visiting everyone I could. But, there has to be a time to leave. People have made me feel loved. My aunt cooked my favorite rice. My uncle baked me bread and took me to an art museum. JC and Terri threw a block party for me. The Commandeurs adopted me for a weekend. My father spent time talking, discussing art, and watching Lawrence of Arabia with me. In addition he made sure that I had all I needed. My Aunt Betty Kae loved on me by just listening to what I had to say. My friend Dave spent hours playing games like bochi ball, croquet, and frisbee golf with me as well as running me all over the city and going to see art with me. My friends the Yees of San Francisco gave me an REI card that I was able to get a new pair of shoes and socks with. My friend Winnie got me a haircut and a new hat, and a couple little boys hugged my neck and never wanted to let go.

I leave many in tears here. Last night I said goodbye to my nephews. I’ve said goodbye to a lot of little boys in preparing to walk this pilgrimage, it seems that that is my greatest sacrifice, but none were as difficult as that moment. Little Logan was inconsolable. I suppose to an eight year old, none of this makes any sense. I’m lucky though that while my mother, father, uncles and aunts look at what I am doing with a troubled heart—they still support me. Tempting as it may be to try to persuade me to seek a more well trod and “safer” existence, they don’t. But instead they have merely asked, “What can I do to help?” and, “What do you need?”

I was concerned that I didn’t spend enough time with people, that I should have written more posts, or drawn more pictures. I worry that I’ve not done enough, left loose strings, or haven’t loved others. Today I got a text that made me feel as if all was right with how I have left things here. The text said, “You make my heart smile.”

And with that I’m ready to go.