Motion and Glory! The Quixote of the Cowboy Prince

François-René de Chateaubriand,  wrote over a century ago:

A master in the art of living draws no sharp distinction between his work and his play; his labor and his leisure; his mind and his body; his education and his recreation. He hardly knows which is which. He simply pursues his vision of excellence through whatever he is doing, and leaves others to determine whether he is working or playing. To himself, he always appears to be doing both.

 

And yet, Krznaric argues, a significant culprit in our vocational dissatisfaction is the fact that the Industrial Revolution ushered in a cult of specialization, leading us to believe that the best way to be successful is to become an expert in a narrow field. Like Buckminster Fuller, who famously admonished against specialization, Krznaric cautions that this cult robs us of an essential part of being human: the fluidity of character and our multiple selves:

Specialization may be all well very well if you happen to have skills particularly suited to these jobs, or if you are passionate a niche area of work, and of course there is also the benefit of feeling pride in being considered an expert. But there is equally the danger of becoming dissatisfied by the repetition inherent in many specialist professions. … Moreover, our culture of specialization conflicts with something most of us intuitively recognize, but which career advisers are only beginning to understand: we each have multiple selves. … We have complex, multi-faceted experiences, interests, values and talents, which might mean that we could also find fulfillment as a web designer, or a community police officer, or running an organic cafe.

This is a potentially liberating idea with radical implications. It raises the possibility that we might discover career fulfillment by escaping the confines of specialization and cultivating ourselves as wide achievers … allowing the various petals of our identity to fully unfold.

Krznaric advocates for finding purpose as an active aspiration rather than a passive gift:

“Without work, all life goes rotten, but when work is soulless, life stifles and dies,” wrote Albert Camus. Finding work with a soul has become one of the great aspirations of our age. … We have to realize that a vocation is not something we find, it’s something we grow – and grow into.

It is common to think of a vocation as a career that you somehow feel you were “meant to do.” I prefer a different definition, one closer to the historical origins of the concept: a vocation is a career that not only gives you fulfillment – meaning, flow, freedom – but that also has a definitive goal or a clear purpose to strive for attached to it, which drives your life and motivates you to get up in the morning.

And yet fulfilling work doesn’t come from the path of least resistance. He cites from Viktor Frankl’s famous treatise on the meaning of life:

What man actually needs is not some tension-less state but rather the striving and struggling for some goal worthy of him.

( Excerpt taken from www.brainpickings.org “How to Find Fulfilling Work: On the Art-Science of “Allowing the Various Petals of Our Identity to Fully Unfold”

                         “Enter into the Temple!”

For what is prayer by the expansion of yourself into the living ether?

  And if it is for your comfort to pour your darkness into space, it is also for your delight to pour fourth the dawning of your heart.

  And if you cannot but weep when your soul summons you to prayer, she should spur you again and yet again, through weeping until your shall come to laughing.

  When you pray you rise to meet in the air those who are praying at that very hour, and whom save in prayer you may not meet.

  Therefore let your visit to that temple invisible be naught but ecstasy and sweet communion. For if you should enter the temple for no other purpose than asking, you shall not receive: And if you should enter into it to humble yourself, you shall not be lifted: Or even if you should enter into it to beg for the good of others, you shall not be heard…

         For it is simply enough to have entered the temple.

              -Kahlil Gibran, “The Prophet” On Prayer

Custer’s Last Waistband & the Cowboy Prince Present…

“Adam & Eve” (April, 2013)

- black, white, & red house paint on salvaged wood

Sure is good to be home and back in the studio again after the long journey… here’s little art for the heart’s sake just finished yesterday afternoon!

www.charliecumhau.com
www.returnofcowboyprince.tumblr.com

The Return of Charlie C. Umhau

After covering  30 miles in 3.5 days of pulling a homemade 300lbs. two wheeled peddler cart, sleeping  out in fields, backyards or beautiful strangers extra bedrooms for 3 nights, I have come to the end of my journey feeling more than satisfied  with my effort and making a sound decision to cease walking and go home.

After leaving Richmond on April 15^th I have spent the last three days completely immersed in a conclusive attempt at bringing to life a vision I saw in a dream a year prior. After a wild year of sewing, training and Custer’s Last Waistband “peddlering”, I thus conclude my adventure having  spent the last three days strapped into a leather harness, attaching myself to the cart with a series of ropes, clinching my teeth, sweating profusely, using every single prayer, mantra and muscle in my body to a proud point of exhaustion with such an effort to cause earnest sobs as my body would pause to rest and then pick up the cart again, again, again to try and pull 300lbs of Motion & Glory!  as close as I could up the road to Washington, D.C. Its been one hell of an adventure and I have enjoyed myself entirely.  

The days of traveling have been full of immense physical strain that although honestly have been very painful, have been beautifully contrasted with some of the most profound examples of human kindness I have ever experienced in my entire life. To big grins and smiles, free hushpuppies and bananas, and passing cars extending invitations to houses for cold glasses of tea, ice water, and most significantly to my two adopted families of the road who took me in for the night, offered me a shower, fed me and gave place to sleep.

 When going on physical adventures such as this, the days are expected to be full of strenuous physical activity, sweat and the joyful strain of muscles and motion that reward the adventure pilgrim with adrenaline, and the ultimate reward of beautiful views seen from the tops of the mountain scaled.  I will admit that on this trip though the only truly enjoyable aspect has come at the end of the day in the company of these loving strangers  and the gorgeous mountainous views they have shown me of humanity reaching out to those in need.  I will admit even in light of my pre-expectations of humanitarian optimism, these families  and people have surpassed  any vision I might have had of instantaneous community unfurling itself along the American roadside.

My cart has a two flags on it as it travels saying “Life the Life You Have Always Imagined!” and “If You Love It, It Will Survive!”  And I built and painted this cart with altruistic intentions towards those ends; to invite others in to a life of adventure, a life of community, of spaciousness and joy. I hoped that as I devoted myself to its physical realization rolling it around Richmond and northwards to towns and cities I would re-instill a sense of wonder in our generation. I hoped I would inspire others to don their own crowns of collective intentionality and further to pull their own carts up confident roads in the directions of their dreams. I still want all those things indeed. I still believe that’s what this world needs, but I realized each time I stopped and found myself in the midst of an open family- in the company of friends made on the road- I realized that the love and togetherness I experienced there resembled more closely a life I would much rather live than the solitude of lugging 300lbs of self-expression by myself up the road.

Motivating me onwards throughout the trip was thoughts such as these and the beckoning acknowledgement of all those I love being there in D.C. (and in Richmond and in Seattle and in Chicago, Greensboro, NYC and Philly and all the other fifty states and countries and villages of the world!)  waiting for me with open arms to welcome me home at the end of the road. Yet with each step I felt further and further away from the world I so desperately wish to belong to.  Meanwhile the weight of the cart in both a very literal sense (the harness cutting into my skin, the shouts and sobs struggling up steep winding hills) and the metaphoric weight of singlehandedly attempting to save the world - which honestly I have isolated myself from in the very act of attempting to awaken it- felt too immense a burden for me to continue struggling for alone. For Motion & Glory! and senses of wonder and Love and intentionality and delight in life are all causes I am very, very, very willing to devote my life to…but I will not die for them;  especially not for the sake of a feather in my cap, my pride, or the sad pressure of letting folks down.

On my third day of traveling, after a nice farewell from the family who adopted me on my second night, I rolled up Bear Slash road to Independence  and the “Y” shaped fork right onto Blunts Bridge Road. I took a break to prepare myself for the huge, steep winding hill up ahead past the horse farm. I did yoga in the sunlight and let my boots air out waiting for my best friend to arrive in her car after she volunteered- without prompting mind you- to drive slowly behind me to insure my safety up the big hill. She arrived, and after a delightful hug she parked her car and we both decided that no car was necessary; together we would walk the cart up Blunts Bridge Road. Together we rolled the cart down the first dip, my hand tight on the brake (thank you again Andrew Phinney!) and then up the next dip until the road evened out, a level stretch of road past the horse farm and that would continue directly down the long winding decline, leading into a sharp turn, crossing a bridge and then going right up into an immediate winding, curvy very steep uphill climb. As we rolled past the horse farm over a dozen horses ran out from the other end of the pasture to greet us at the fence. With mixed reactions to the cart’s bright red wheels and the curly haired couple pulling, the horses all stood frozen staring at us.  Then suddenly in one synchronized wave the horses all turned their heads to the right and sprinted off in another direction. …they all paused, stared and again in one beautiful swift movement they all turned their heads again and ran off.  It was magical and they did this several times as we went down the road.

Down the two of us went pulling the cart down the stretched hill, leaning my weight backwards in to the harness I used my force to slow the cart down squeezing the hand brake lightly. My best friend smiled and we kept rolling. Nodding at the passing cars and shouting “good morning!” to the construction workers on the side of the road, we made it around the sharp turn and rolled across the bumpy wooden bridge planks. At this point we both inhaled a deep breath and dug in, grasping the cart handle …and then we charged up the steep winding portion of Blunt Bridge Road. The construction crew behind us volunteered itself to our cause and rode slowly behind us, flashing its hazards to block the way. Cars parked and windows rolled down.  Together we worked as one unit, panting and shouting, screaming exuberate cries of determination! I reached behind me, getting a better grasp of the pull ropes clipped into my harness leading to the back of the cart; she bowed forward and we rolled up and up and up pulling 300lb of Motion & Glory!  to the very top of one steep , hell-of-a hill in the mid-morning sunlight.

Without being prompted to this amazing love of mine showed up again and again and saved me from the dangers and obstacles of my own madness. She did not stop, and all day we rolled along together, her helping me up hills, running alongside me, biking up ahead to scout out the approaching hills. She did it joyfully. She did it selflessly, without any  “you’ll owe me when you get home” or even a breath of “this is insane” or “why the hell are you doing this?!”- Which at the time I think were all very valid comments.  Yet that super woman joined me out of a pure act of love, concern for my well-being and earnest devotion to helping me do what I felt necessary to do.  

I am the luckiest man in the world and this wild Motion & Glory! peddler’s cart –vision-quest- one man-revolution of mine has unfurled before me a world far more connected, beautiful and profound than any I have ever dreamed of. This dream has become more than realized with all the help of you incredible people. Thanks to all you wild folks  who donated to my Kickstarter,  to those of you who cheered me on, who fed me,  who trained me in yoga, coached me in art business,  gave me 4lbs of free coffee, who supported me, who housed me,  who bought art work, or helped me pay bills. To those of you who smiled, who didn’t honk at my cart when I rolled past you in the street. To those of you who invited me into your homes, shared yourselves with me and appreciated my art and my earnestness…  And ultimately thanks to the amazing woman who literally stepped into my world, joined me in my madness and helped me douse the world in wonder through the physical triumph of the human spirit coming together!

 I am glad to be home. I am glad this crazy pursuit has come to an end and with it’s end the conclusion of a three years of solitude and emphasized separateness.  I am now more than contented with the adventure and the effort I have put forth throughout this journey. I did not reach D.C but  I feel I already reached the great “ah ha!” moment I was looking for throughout this whole pilgrimage when I realized that attempting the impossible is in itself a great victory and that the world is already pretty amazing as it is. Mostly significantly I realized that quite frankly the challenge and weight I feel is significantly more courageous to pull to learn how to be in this world again after such a long period of aestheticism and spiritual isolation. To meet the world as it, not retreat from it or escape into a fantasy is the ultimate challenge.

 I have had a hell of an amazing and ridiculous time out here. I have stretched my will power, pushing myself beyond my physical and mental limits again and then again and again. I have felt an immense love and protection and delighted in the realness of spiritual powers and light shining in the darkness. I have explored the mediums of my own expressions, and become significantly more in tune with what it means to be alive. I have found a nice balance of strength and healthiness I was desperately lacking. I have drunk from the sweetness of human kindness, community and love and experienced firsthand the deepest affection I have ever known. Thank you very much to all of you for re-instilling in me, a newly defined sense of wonder and appreciation for life.

 And now in the paraphrased words of Pablo Neruda’s great Ode to life, it is time for the prodigal hermit, the Cowboy Prince to hang up his hat and emerge from his mistaken solitude, to search and fight, to join hands with other hands… and from now on, I will not adopt, or praise misfortune. I will reject it, giving it the form of a wall, like the stonecutter with the stone, I will ‘”take scissors to misfortune and make a pair of trousers.”

 I am finally coming home.

3.5 days out, traveling 2 miles per hour pulling 300lbs, I have covered just under 30 miles and I have frankly never tried so hard in all my life.

Yesterday was crazy, an insane balance of immense physical agony as my body adjusts to the weight of my cargo and the challenge of hills with extreme acts of human kindness and encouragement. From free BBQ lunch and enormous hush puppies, to a car that pulled over just to give me 2 bananas, to a mother and daughter in a jeep who drove past and smiled, and then u-turned to come over and talk to me. Who the invited me to camp at their house 2 miles up the road. I accepted, climbed an insane hill, and then just as I texted them for their address they drove back by again and showed me the way down Bear Slash road where I was welcomed with open arms including a dramatic welcome from all their dogs and horses.
And there I sat enjoying the birds singing and the shower I took and the delicious kale soup they made me. This family welcomed me as one of their own, and ironically even though they had plans in town tonight, they offered a bed and trusting access to their house while they are out. As they drove away they shouted “there’s peppermint patties in the freezer!” I knew humanity was beautiful but had no idea it was this good!

Greetings from downtown Ashland, VA! I’ve covered 4.5 miles this morning already…. Time to refuel!

Day 1: April 15th 2013

10.4 miles out of Richmond, roughly 5 miles from the town of Ashland, Va. The jetboil stove is in action and I excitedly await the water’s heat and with it the rehydration of my “chipotle chicken pasta” ration bag. All I can say is ” holy shit!” I can’t believe this is actually happening!
I’m camped out next to a plastic slide and a picnic table area in a public park with my beautiful cart standing beside me, that I miraculously pulled all 300lbs of… And here I sit, an exhausted outlaw while a little League team practices in the diamond besides me.

Like the first slice of an apple pie, today was rough. Today was insane and my body has never felt such strain. That cart is 300lbs loaded and damn! I can feel every single ounce of them; slight inclines and hills are excruciating requiring me to use every muscle in my body, every mantra in my mind and even then I have to scream to pull it.
This has been a very emotional day and besides that I think the physical strain alone is the reason I’ve been tearing up most of the day. But man! I feel extremely and wonderfully and completely alive tonight.
I intend to keep trying as long as I can stand it. Pushing myself to keep going felt good and now I’m glad and relaxed, the worse part over. As soon as the little league practice next to me is over I can’t wait to fall asleep. I can rest, and whatever comes tomorrow I will give my best. Whether I get to D.C., call it quits tomorrow or whatever… I am open to any outcome.
My heart is open & I am trusting in God to be my navigator. I can go on forever.

Oh man! There’s church bells singing in the background! What a day!

Over the mountains of the moon, down the valley of the shadow, ride boldly ride if you seek for El Dorado!

The cowboy prince sends his love from his first lunch break 3 miles into the journey

In the morning I will be leaving Richmond and heading northward to Washington, D.C. pulling my Motion & Glory! Peddler’s cart behind me.I am so excited and very nervous this evening before my launch but am honored to have all the support and encouragement from all you beautiful people. I am ready to slay this dragon!

I will be updating folk from the road as much as I can- I even got myself a solar panel for the cart, and figured out how to use an IPhone! I will be walking along US Bike Route 1 on back country roads, got two weeks’ worth of rations, 4lbs of Lamplighter coffee and an incredible support team available as well if I run out of bananas or need a hug. I’ve packed homemade shirts, and my weathered dog eared copies of Neruda, Rilke and Thoreau. My shoes are broke in and my heart is racing to go.

I can’t wait to share it all with you! I’ll be journaling along the trip as well as updating my blog as much as I see fit or can get connected. Please follow the journey here at www.returnofcowboyprince.tumblr.com

Thank you so much for helping this dream come true,

Yours now and forever,

Charlie C. Umhau