and found myself thinking about Carbondale, IL again.

Why did I feel such a strong pull to this area? Why was this the area where the path of totality for the 2017 Solar Eclipse intersected the path of totality for the 2024 Solar Eclipse? Why did I care so much? Why am I affected by the Eclipses in such a powerful way, anyway?

As any sane man would do when facing such questions, I turned to Craigslist. I found a guy named Dan who had two dogs. These dogs needed to be cared for while he went away for seasonal work during the summer months. I love dogs, I love the “Magic Eight Ball” of Serendipity, I trust in the Universe and how it communicates with my Life.

We had a few phone conversations while I was in Colorado, and I was entirely transparent regarding how I was living. He was willing to let me live in his home without concern for the utilities or any payments in exchange for simply living with and taking care of his two dogs; he trusted me and was even wanting for me to come earlier than he needed me so that we could live together and get to know each other.

Well that was an interesting turn of events; I went out to live with Dan at the end of May, and he left for work around the middle of June. He was an unhealthy and obese young man, a little older than me with a very kind heart and genuine demeanor. Before he left, he warned me of his neighbor who lived across the street-

you know the type, the ones who think that LSD is God’s Gift to Man- for as long as “God” means “CIA” and “Gift” means “chemically-induced neurotic hypnosis claiming to be intelligent.” It’s cool, though- he owned his house, he had a partner + a dog; he owned a kayak + a tent, drove a Prius, loved weed + beer. He also wore a baseball cap but was balding with long-hair.

When I had first passed through Carbondale on my way out to Oregon back in the Summer of 2020, it was early in the morning on a Saturday, just a little before the Sun had risen. First I stopped at a community garden near the town center, not too far away from the train tracks which essentially define the community (that and SIU).

After taking a walk around that part of town, I stopped by the Co-Op on the west end before moving on. There was nobody in the store when I walked in except for a young woman stocking produce, joined by the early morning’s sun passing through the windows with that type of golden-glow that catches the particles suspended in air. In my eyes, she was a naturally-beautiful person with a pleasant demeanor:

didn’t make it uncomfortable holding the space with me, didn’t avoid interaction but simply took her time following through with her routine. For all I would’ve known, she was the only one running the whole shop based on how quiet it was.

She was the first person I had encountered in this new phase of my life- considering the whole car accident + self-rehabilitation + covid complexity + etc.- that I felt a call to engage with.

“What difference will it make to make a fool of yourself, Matt? Wouldn’t be the first time- wouldn’t be the last time.”

So, I began to talk to her about grapes. Turns out she also liked grapes; we began to talk more, I told her I was traveling through. It was a Saturday, and she told me about the Farmer’s Market that is a community event right down the way...should be starting soon. She told me about her partner, about her two daughters; about her interest in different approaches to community dynamics, etc.

I went over to the market with her to meet her partner and their two daughters who were 3 years and 5 years old. He seemed a bit off and side-eyed, which would be understandable in the sense that I had come into connection through his partner. Benefit-of-the-doubt.

Before we went our separate ways, she asked for my number and wanted to show me the cool spots around- if I plan to stay for the weekend. Later on that day, she showed me Giant City; the next day, she showed me some trails around the Little Grassy area before we went for a nice swim at Bum’s Beach before Sunset. As we were getting to know each other, she began to unravel more of the reality within her life.

Personally, I was appreciative of so quickly connecting with a kindred spirit and was content with a plutonic connection-

I was happy to have the sense that young couples are having children and making it work, and that there was some sense of a “small town” going on with an active farmer’s collective. How interesting it is to witness how my mind creates a story that is reality- and yet, it is delusional when the context is filled from the specific experience of someone living within it.

As the Sun was near setting on that Sunday, we walked back to our cars and were preparing to say our farewells.

She was a beautiful girl, younger than me by a few years with an element of innocence which made things feel more as a sibling-esque type of love.

She began to cry, began to share how meaningful it was for our connection despite how short it was. She shared that her partner had been cheating on her, and that he had been physically and sexually abusive towards her; she shared her loneliness with me.

I took my time getting out to Oregon, reflecting and consolidating in Colorado, Utah, Idaho; making new acquaintances on the road, sharing hikes and stories. She was heavy on my heart.

Now that this context is shared, I will return to the story.

After Dan had left, it was only a few days until I began to feel restless and a need to explore begin to rise within me. The first place I went was back to that community garden; when I arrived, however, there was a seemingly somber gathering of community members standing around candles and offerings. Naturally, I knew this was not the time to observe what was growing and chose to return another day.

When I did return the following day, curious to see what remained, there was a girl who was writing something on the ground, sitting on her legs and folded over herself.

She looked up, I looked down; I nodded at her with a facial gesture as if to say “I am not trying to be a weird person.” She was wearing a wide-brimmed hat and sunglasses.

“…Matt?”

Who else would it be? We talked for a while that day and caught up. It turned out that one of the community members had committed suicide the day before; jumped off a cliff. Eventually, she began to come over with her daughters; we all (including the dogs) would go for swims. They would have sleepovers, and the dogs and I would go to sleep over at their home. This was the building up through the Summer; simultaneously, I began to become involved with a few different community dynamics.

There was (and still is) a mushroom farm stand at the Farmer’s Market; I became friendly with the girl who ran their table. She was very kind and would give me free (gourmet) mushrooms regularly; as we began to talk more, she shared about the mushroom farm’s festival they planned to host in the autumn. The neighbor across the street (and his partner) were involved. I was invited to go to the first gathering of organizers at the proposed location of the festival.

Simultaneously, I was involved with a non-profit center called “The Center for Empowerment and Justice.” It was founded by Jim, a retired lawyer from Chicago who was very much still active, albeit elderly. He offered me $5000 with the aid of one of his assistants to redesign the space in order to make it a community area.

Well, things were looking good- until they weren’t! The neighbor guy began to leverage my involvement with the mushroom festival with Dan’s tools and yard equipment. Being a photographer, he tried to passively coerce me into paying $150 for him to professionally photograph up to 3 of my art works.

The mushroom stand girl and I were becoming friends; she had a dog, and we all would go swimming together at the lake. She began to share about her past and about her struggles; I genuinely was interested in maintaining a plutonic relationship. Eventually I invited her over for dinner one night, I cooked up something simple and was just wanting for us (dogs included) to just chill, to open up the space to simply talk like humans.

Well! My expectations were too high, and it did not play out in the ways which I believed it could have. I believe I notice something very interesting about people who have used cocaine- even “recreationally” or “casually”- in their lives: They are blind to see how much they are hiding behind a mask; if you begin to address it, a mess will ensue to create “cover” of the actual issue at hand.

Regarding “The Center for Empowerment and Justice:”

This center was also employing a few homeless people, two of which were homeless men actively living in the space which we were assigned to redesign.

You know the type: vodka with water as they handle the phone calls, needing to do all of the work multiple times- the type of people who needed the center’s aid instead of aiding the center.

Anyway! The aid and I were able to make some genuine progress within one week of time. Clearing all of the space, preparing everything for the new paint and the new electrical, etc. The day that she and I were intending to finish painting our third and final coat, to then begin installing some new fixtures, the homeless men made their stand:

We came in to find all of the work we had completed covered in graffiti, with their tents now entirely erect within the workspace.

Additionally, we had come to learn that Jim had just been admitted into intense care that morning- something had been complicated with his health, and it wasn’t looking good.

The next day he had died, and the center was closed until further notice.

Because I was not allowing for the neighbor to use Dan’s tools, and that I was no longer interested in being a contributor to the mushroom festival; compounded by the fact that my friend and her daughters were regularly spending the night and that I would be gone some nights (with the dogs as well), the neighbor conspired against me to instill paranoia and fear into Dan- telling him that I was mistreating the dogs and that etc. and etc., and “how could you just trust a guy that you don’t know off of Craigslist,” and etc. Naturally, the neighbor was going to be taking care of the dogs- starting that night.

And so, I went to my friend and shared with her the situation, telling her that it did not seem like I was going to be around for much longer. With this, she broke down and began to cry, sharing with me things which she had not made evident up until that point:

That she was struggling very deeply with her mental and emotional health, and that her baby daddy and his mother had conspired to send her to a mental health clinic in Florida. That she didn’t know what she was doing with her life, and that she just wanted it to end.

This, paired with all of the stories which she had shared with me regarding the abuse from him and her trauma from her own family, I realized what was the next tidal shift.

“You’re not going to Florida, and I am moving in with you.”