1997 - Worries, Jogging, Work, Readings, and Zen
In which Teófilo continues his memories of 1997 in Johnstown, PA and elsewhere.
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By the autumn of 1997 it had become clear I was having difficulty coping with all the demands on my time. I was still recovering from the psychological impact of the big accident the year before. Work provided an escape, but only so much. Home and hearth exerted their powerful attraction toward me.
The real treasures in life are good memories. These I’ll take with me to the Kingdom when my time comes.
Exercise and Weight Loss.
I was overweight for the first time in my life. I didn't like the way I felt and the way I looked. I also felt sick. Climbing a few stairs left me breathless.
I decided to change the state of things and started to exercise like a fanatic. For the first time in my life I exercised with enthusiasm. I began to run around Johnstown, first one-and-a-half miles and then three miles.
For the three miles I would start in front of Penn Traffic and go toward the old steel mills on Washington Street. I would jog on the wide, often cracked and weed infested sidewalk up to Clinton Street and then Maple Avenue. I continued on Maple down to the bridge crossing the Little Conemaugh River toward Franklin Borough. I turned back there. On other days I would climb the hill and jog on Woodvale and then returned. Along the way many times I had to evade wasp-nest encrusted on the old foundries’ walls, or hanging from many trees.
Another favorite route took me from the PennTraffic Building to Cambria City. I would jog on the river walk, passed old and new industrial sites, got to the City and turned back. Though I considered my runs as long and vigorous, the real runners at the NDIC ran much farther and faster than I did. Among them were Chuck K., Chuck M., and the redoubtable Michael McCrane. They would climb up to Westmont on its steep mountain trail. Mike accomplished this because hid an extra lung within his rotund frame. As for the two Chucks, they were born running. Their zombie corpses will go on running long after they pass…
When I didn't run I hit the gym. Steadily, my body began to transform. I didn't know it yet, but whipping myself into a decent shape had tremendous consequences, as we'll see.
Work Dissatisfaction Peeks
Despite my engagement at work and general business, there were times I felt I was falling behind. I remained very competitive and often measured myself against other brilliant analysts. But these analysts had what I lacked in personality. They were gregarious, unselfconscious, more self-possessed than I was. I remained a pedantic, military hillbilly. As a consequence, I perceived they climbed the ladder faster than me. My transfer to CompEx remained a possibility at that time and I looked forward to the job interviews.
Laredo Case
One of the cases I worked during that time was out of Laredo, TX. A 60-year old man reported $6,000 in yearly income on his taxes. Yet, he lived like a millionaire.
He had a romantic interest south of the border in Mexico. She was a 21-year old woman who lived in poverty along with her little brother. The man showered her with gifts.
Anyway, the man attempted to smuggle about $100 million in cocaine into the US. He had an ex-con friend helping him along. This accomplice had some experience in this kind of smuggling.
But their gambit failed: US Customs agents seized their truck at a checkpoint on I-35. The accomplice turned state evidence and sank the principal.
But our principal refused to cooperate. He was afraid the cartels would retaliate by killing his family, which was a reasonable fear to have. A son of his had died before under suspicious circumstances. The principal faced lots of years in Federal prison, tantamount to a life sentence. He’d probably died in prison.
We went there to make sense of his operation through DocEx.
My Reading List
At least three books occupied my mind at that time:
La Casa de la Laguna ("The House on the Lagoon") by the late Puerto Rican author, Rosario Ferré. She was the daughter of Luís Ferré, who had being the pro-statehood governor during my early childhood. In this work, Ms. Ferré explored her own family's history in a fictional setting. Since the Ferré's were from my hometown of Ponce, she placed a lot of the action there. Ponce - which she renamed Alamares - transformed under her pen into a better, cleaner version of Macondo. The town was hot, and humid, but also erotic, and decadent. She was right-on about the climate but for the rest, liar! Hers was a work of fiction after all. I can forgive her.
A biography of the famed Jesuit scientist and theologian, Pierre Teilhard de Chardin. I don't recall the author, but it might've been the one by Yves Congar. I read the biography to see if reading about Chardin would help me his work, The Divine Milieu. I found this work undecipherable and the biography, unhelpful. I suppose I'm not cutout to identify God with an evolving cosmos. Not then, not now.
It was then when I started my own exploration of Zen Buddhism, independent from Merton's. I found the book by Tsai Chih Chung, Zen Speaks, specially endearing. That's because it was a comic book and the drawings of short, fat monks or tall, lanky ones were funny. On each page, the author illustrated some Zen saying or concept. He made Zen easy to understand and reminded me of that teacher I had in St. Mary's who also quoted Zen sayings.
I also read Three Zen Masters by John Stevens. I may have checked this out from the public library on Main Street. The author wrote three short biographies of Japanese Zen masters Ikkyu Sojun, Hakuin Ekaku, and Daigu Ryokan. To tell you the truth I recall zilch about this book. Even so, it is important because this book, along with Zen Speaks, opened the doors of Zen Buddhism for me.
This personal exploration of Buddhism will be the subject of my next entry.
Addenduum: Jogging and Praying
After I returned to the Catholic Church the following year, I learned to pray while I jogged. I would pray the Rosary and the Jesus Prayer, marking the cadence with my steps. Ten years later, in 2007, I attempted to explain this contemplative experience in a series of non-verses which I titled, The Running Contemplative:
I pray when I run
pace after pace my body
becomes
living prayer.
The Blood rushes through my veins;
I can hear my heartbeat
I am alive
I live for Him
I feel my muscles as they tense
fingering the beads of an old
Rosary
Tchotki or
sweat
Ave Marías, Paternosters and Gloria Patris
Lord-Jesus-Christ-Have-Mercy-On-Me-A-Sinner
mark the Via Crucis cadence of my
run
I make fleeting signs of the cross
as I pass the city blocks mysteries
as He builds my body-temple
for His Spirit
For He is the Architect and the Builder!
(He also tears down, in due time)
Living a little, dying a little
God's athlete (the world only sees the athlete)
Pining for the Incorruptible Crown
Knowing that the Finish line is only
The Beginning.
It took me ten years to find my poetic muse in contemplative prayer. It’s a long, long run to get to praying and running at the same time.
Bonus Videos
1996 Music Hits.
Also, audiobook below.