This story features several well known locations in San Francisco, where I lived at one point. In the case of the Sutro baths, when I was there they were surrounded by a high board wall, intended to keep everyone out. It didn't work, and people loved to sneak in and browse the huge complex that was at one time the largest indoor swimming pool in the world. The caves and tunnels connect with the ocean and have underground waves that can be very dangerous. The story explores human growth and development using some metaphorical elements - and includes the discovery of synesthesia - a very real phenomenon.
Growing up there is a need to establish oneself in the community. Morgan had completed this project – receiving recognition and certificates affirming years of work with special needs students – both adults and children. However, at one point the need to know and be part of a greater universal community moved her to go for the unknown, spend some time away, and maybe return to the world with a different mindset. Was this new motivation a striving, a growth toward becoming something new so as to avoid emptiness and stagnation? Or was it a grounding in the emptiness of being, a oneness with the universe, overcoming the fear of being alone? Morgan did not have the answer – she only had the need to find her own insight. She knew there was danger for asking the questions, but thought it was more dangerous not to know. Her only hope was to not fall off the edge.
For most of us, there are flashing points of great attraction and significance resting just off the edge of our awareness. It might be an art museum we have never visited, a trip to New York to see a Broadway Show, a week on El Camino de Santiago, or a stay on Paradise Island. Morgan had long since been curious about several mysterious distant rotating lights that rested between two mountain peaks, high above the clouds – overlooking the Pacific Ocean. There were other points of awareness of this “alternate life,” each point was a dusty light, not quite soundless, not quite silent, but the distant rotating lights were especially symbolic because she had been aware of them for so long, having seen them from so many new and different angles. She decided to take three days for “time out,” a break from everyone and everything in her life that defined her, a short retreat to reset her compass.
Starting on her first day, Morgan stepped on the trail and zig-zaged back and forth, with steep inclines edged with seasonal foliage all the way to the top. Known as the "the crookedest street in the world," Lombard had hairpin curves, thousands of pilgrims, and was a magnet for grifters. This was the favorite trail of “day-trippers” who loved to run the zig-zag before settling down with white wine and sourdough bread. For Morgan, this was the stepping off place, the point of going beyond the well defined path, where there was solitude. Many people loved to traverse the zig-zag, bouncing back and forth, looking at each other and repeating memes such as “half-empty half-full” and “either-or neither-nor,” but Morgan had “been there, done that” and was not tempted to engage in the word play, opinion hacking, exaggeration and debate. She came prepared with food, clothing, a journal, and camping materials, wearing a sweatshirt over a t-shirt, with a pair of sturdy hiking boots. This was not an accidental adventure, and at the top of the zig-zag she kept walking, away from the well worn trail.
After six hours, the sun was on the horizon, and the magenta and purple skies were seeping through the clouds. Morgan had reached an abandoned complex of walls and burned out caverns, with hills on both sides, dark crevices, gullies, and what appeared to be a hollowed out rock tunnel. Morgan went in the tunnel to touch and explore. Sitting very quietly, she became aware of soft clicking sounds – thousands of clicks – almost musical. Turning around and looking up, the red reflections coming from the backs of hundreds of bat eyes revealed a roost of sizable proportions – with the full population focused on Morgan’s nose, six inches away. She quietly sank to the ground, turned over and crawled out of the space, followed by a bat storm of thousands flowing from the hollow opening into the darkening sky. Distracted by the bats, Morgan ran away from the tunnel, but failed to notice that the wall she was on would soon be grabbed by a large ocean wave that would almost certainly carry her out to sea. The water lifted up above her head, and pulled hard on her, attempting to drag her down. Drenched, she crouched quietly, recognizing that five more seconds would have meant the end of her life. Panic, in the face of the bats – or in the overwhelming sweep of the water, would have destroyed her inner strength, ending her journey.
The next day, Morgan started out early, seeing that the trail led up a steep incline, with the cliff-edge dropping hundreds of feet to the side. A rotating light was high on a tower – higher than the pierced clouds below. She had no map to guide her but was able to get to the base of the tower by trial and error. The top was not visible from the ground, but the clouds glowed with the red mist coming from multiple lights. It made her dizzy just to look up. However, she soon realized she wasn’t the only person there. At the base of the tower, there was an “Old Timer” dressed in corduroy pants and a shirt with five-inch buttoned cuffs, puffed out sleeves, and cardboard shoes. The Old Timer was eating a cup of beans with rocks at the bottom – the kind of rocks the government used to put in cans so they came up to legal weight. The Old Timer looked at Morgan and said, “So, you came here to see me?” Morgan responded without thinking, “Yes, you must be holding this tower up.” The two of them shared the Ramen Noodle Soup Morgan had brought, and then the Old Timer said, “Every human being must have a point were they stand against the culture, where they say, “this is me and the rest of the world can go to hell. We have enormous strength for that, if we can learn to re...cognize ourselves.” Morgan responded, “So you are really holding this tower up?’’
“Of course, very helpful and creative of me, don’t you think?”
Morgan left the tower the next morning, and headed out for the last day on her search. Her arrival at the three-story indoor courtyard with quaint chocolate shops, art galleries, traditional Greek clothing stores, and stores selling Peruvian Alpaca sweaters was intended to be a comfortable transition back into daily life. Unfortunately all the stores were closed due to an electrical power outage. Morgan decided to simply walk around and “window shop” observing all the wonderful sights that came into view. When she reached the third floor level, she stood on the edge of the balcony, and rested quietly. Far below, a street musician took an instrument out of a hardshell case, and started singing original songs for coins. The music was pure and visible – floating up through the open echo chamber of the courtyard, a mosaic of color and sound. The colors were brighter than what was visible in reality, as if the light of the musician’s voice was headlining a concert of vibration and hue. It was a true case of synesthesia – Morgan was seeing the colors of music streaming up through the air, with greens and blues weaving around, folding together.
Morgan did not analyze the display - the music was alive, more so than anything she'd ever known. It felt like a part of her, overwhelming to the point of eliminating all external thought, leaving only the desire to be present with the resonance. Morgan had discovered a critical insight. For her - being and becoming, the space between stimulus and response, the capacity to be creative and to be herself – they were all inseparable.
A bit of background on this story: part of this article takes place in the ruins of the Sutro Baths on the edge of the Pacific Ocean in San Francisco. There is a cave in the ruins that was part of the original baths, and if you walk inside you start to hear deep rumblings that shake the ground. The path drops, and it becomes apparent there are ocean "sneaker waves" flowing inside the cave. It is dark, and can be quite scary. There are "Danger" warning signs all round, including the trails that cover the large abandoned cliffs. To visit these ruins is a very challenging and exciting adventure - but not without the danger of being washed away to sea. When I was last there, the entire area was fenced off, but there seemed to be a major attraction for visitors and city residents needing to "get away" to an authentic part of a bygone era. Trying to keep people out of the historic ruins was clearly futile...
I haven't been in San Francisco for many years and knew vaguely of Sutro Baths when I was. Certainly Twin Peaks and a huge tower there felt very notable when I visited on official business (consultant for NIMH engaged in site visits for research and training applications). Sutro Tower too and I drove down Lombard Street once and the incline did cause me fear. But like operating heavy machines on a Wisconsin farm when a youth, I told myself to just do it--trust the body, don't panic.
Also notable life events took place in that city: death of a brother, courting of and marriage to my present wife.
I felt about Robert's narrative that he was young and alone and had a very dangerous incident even as he was adventurously exploring. I'm glad that wave didn't grab him so that we have him now! Still adventurous, inquiring, gently probing for more stories and inhabiting other memories in our joint futures.