So, what does this mean? Does this mean that The Journeyride Project was a failure? Does this mean I must now give up all hope and stop following my heart? Some have said yes, give up! You’re washed up! You’re done! Get a real job! But that is not what my heart is telling me. My heart tells me that I am still on The Journeyride. My heart tells me that all the preparations that lead me to all abandon for a bicycle has prepared me for my mission. What is my mission? That is to be revealed in due time.

For now I am living life lucidly, as contemporary stand-up philosopher Tim Freke would say. I am living that notion that life is a dream when I’m know I’m dreaming. Have you ever had that kind of dream? When you’re sound asleep and you become aware that all you are experiencing in that moment is a dream? When I have  lucid dream I can do whatever I want, for I know that all things are possible and is only limited to my imagination and will. But to live my waking life as if Iwas sound asleep having  alucid dream I am LIVING  lucidly. And in that state of lucid living whatever I can dream of becomes my reality.

That is how I am living now. And realizing this I find that there is no right of wrong, no good or bad; only different opportunities to grow. What will you do knowing that all things are possible in your life dream? You will live the life of your dreams, if only your are strong enough to will it to happen.

Peace, Love and Light-

Jonas

P.S. I’m doing  a performance of my program The Meta-Illusion Experience this Sunday night at The Black Moon Music Lounge on Rt. 202 in Belchertown, MA. I’m inviting two colleagues of mine, two of my very good friends, percussionist Matt Skowyra and singer/songwriter/acoustic guitarist Mike Barone to perform that evening as well. It will be an inspirational night of magic and music at The Moon. Hope to see you there.

12:44 AM

Day 5

Rain rain go away, come back another day. No, scratch that, never come back again. In a way I’m thankful for the rain that drenched me today. Gave me a taste of the worst. Well, the worst could be the snow that may come early if I don’t get south enough in time. Or perhaps the worst will the beating sun in the desert. Or perhaps the worse will be when I get hit by a car or mugged or attacked by a wild animal. What a wild animal would want with my wallet is beyond me.

Did forty miles today. Left at 8:21AM from my friend’s apartment in Palmer, MA. The first two hours were ok. Made it through Wilbraham, MA into Somers, CT before it started raining. Cycled through East Windsor, CT into Broad Brook, CT and the rain really started coming down. I had stopped for a few moments under a tree to rest and to check my messages…but the blasted phone would not work! It would simply turn on and say “App error 532” and then restart, but continuing the error cycle. If I was the kind of person to that got angry I would have gotten angry. But as it stands, I do not get angry, I do not hate and I do not want. So I really didn’t care.

The directions I copied down the night before during commercials of The Departed were not helping at all. The rain was disintegrating the paper each time I took it out to look at it. Had to turn around twice second guessing myself, yet each time I realized that I was in fact going in the right direction. Never hesitate.

Put my phone away and was to turn right onto Church St. but I saw businesses just down the street, a happy welcome from the back roads of nothingness that I would normally welcome but when seeking shelter I wished to avoid it at all cost. I rode passed Church St. and stopped into a plaza. 11:47AM. Sam Buca’s Restaurant was a nice place to stop. Delicious hot chicken parmesan and a good place to change into dry socks. Should have put on the galoshes sooner. Stayed until the rain stopped…at least that was the plan. It didn’t stop raining.

Took out the laptop. “Do you folks have WiFi?” I asked the bartender. “No,” was his simple reply.” I had wanted to Skype my father to let him know what was going on. Since even before I left on this journey he had opposed it. I had forgotten to tell him about my plans, and before I could he read about it in the newspaper. That was an interesting ohone conversation.

I like sending press releases to the media; it ensures that I do things that I want to do. So often we decide we’re going to do this or decide we’re going to do that but never actually act on our decisions. Telling others our plans adds a level of accountability. This same accountability is what gave me everything I’ve ever accomplished in my short life. By the age of twenty-four I had everything I had ever wanted with all of my heart and soul. And I got it because I had the buring passion to get them. I soon learned that even the achievment of my biggest most wildest dreams does not ensure happiness. For nothing ever stays the same; everything moves on. Everything changes; the good with the bad.

I was a pretty interesteing site to say the least. Bright soaking wet yellow jacket with a metal hippie peace police badge, soaking wet orange sweatshirt with equally wet black sweatpants and drenched white Nike sneakers. Fiddling with the battery from my Blackberry and copying down directions from the laptop onto notebook paper, I must have been an intersting sight for the bartender. With no way to call my father to let him know that I can’t call him, I knew I could have asked to use the restaurant’s phone, but I wasn’t quite at that point where I really cared too much.

Part of the reason for me leaving on this mission was to get away from eveything and everyone. The past two years have been very stressful. Everyone wants something from me. All I want is to be. Not good, nor bad. Not okay nor great or sad or happy. But how does one embrace this “isness” with no time to just be? With so many doings how can one embrace being? From here to there, from there to everywhere. Everyone wants something. Small changes were not possible. Only a big wrip off from everything was able to bring about that which I needed to simply be. And only in being simple is what enables one to simply be. So losing phone access was a welcomed unfortunate happening. My debit card not working was not so welcomed.

After two hours of stalling I decided that I could not stay there all day so I paid for my $6.95 sandwich. Or I tried to that is. My debit card didn’t go through, which is total BS because there was at least $300 in the account. Thankfully my aunt had given me a Visa Gift Card which did go through. How is one to go on a cross country bicycle trip with no access to money? That is a good question. But as John Lennon said, there are no problems, only solutions.

Headed out in the pouring rain at 12:56PM. “I am exactly where God wants me to be,” I kept reminding myself. In honor of Steven Wright I almost wept openly but then realized no one was there to see it so why bother. I like going down the hills. It really feels like I’m flying. Sometimes I wish I was a bird, not so I could really fly, but I think it would be cool to have white shit. “Four months of this,” I thought. “This sucks.”

Over the past two years I’ve grown in my ability for symbolic sight. As such I’m always on the look out for “signs.” On this fifth day of the Journeyride, what kept coming to me was “King.” Whether it be a street name, a name on a mail box or a name on a passing gravestone, the word “king” kept showing up. That and the name Pease. What this means I don’t know. But it’s persistence is notable. Perhaps it referred to King James. I have a friend named James who lives in Longmeadow just off of Rt. 5. When I was a child my brother Steven used to call me the king. Perhaps it refers to how we are the kings, the rulers of our own lives. Or maybe it referred to the movie I watched the other night. Troy. The prince that challenged the king to a battle to the death for the woman that he loved; then just before he was about to be killed he cowardly ran off.

Made it to the junction of Rt. 191 and Rt. 5 in Scantic, CT. Looked to the right; then looked to the left. Looked north then south. “This is it,” I said. And off I went in the direction of my destiny.

11:57PM

Day 4

I have delayed long enough. Road from Belchertown to Wilbraham, and have been content staying on my friend’s couch for the past day. The gravity of what I am undertaking has finally sunk in. I’m actually doing this; or risk compromising my values. It is not that I care what others think of me, rather, what I know of myself. I have never taken on such a challenge and yet even since the time just after Stephanie’s passing my mind went to just such a crazy idea as leaving behind all that I have never known to embrace the uncertainty that I was experiencing emotionally. This mission, this embracing of the unknown, is the embracement of my fears. The very fear of survival itself. To come to terms with death I must first come to terms with life. At the very primal level, I must not only be willing but also able to survive in order to move forward with my life. If I am not able to face this fear, if I am not able to step forward and face this challenge, then I see no point in doing anything from this moment on and would be better off dead. And yet by facing this challenge, diving in head first, I am showing up to life, I am facing my dragon head on. Whether I survive doesn’t matter. Doing nothing matters, and doing something matters. The outcome, on the other hand, I am not concerned with right now. Action. Now that is what I’m interested in. Experiences. Yes! That is what I’m hungry for. And yet, whatever happens, whatever I intend on doing, is not as important as what actually happens.

All of this may not make sense right now, but from where I sit it makes perfect sense. I have no preconceived notions as to what lay ahead of me. I have some ideas of what I’d like to see happen, but I know that whatever happens will be a surprise. That is all that I’m interested in right now. Facing my fears by taking action towards surprising outcomes. With an intention like that nothing can go wrong, for I have no idea what to expect any way! Everything that happens is right! I can’t fail for there is no way to fail! And yet I am both terrified and scared out of my mind at the same time.

Perhaps the hardest part was getting rid of my worldly possessions. Perhaps it was leaving behind the comfort of family and friends. Perhaps it was knowing that my home for the next four months would be a tent and my only mode of transportation a bicycle. Perhaps it was knowing I’d have to ride over three thousand miles on a bicycle across uncertain territory and meet with less than kind individuals and even meaner weather. Perhaps the hardest part was knowing all of this beforehand and deciding to do it anyway. Or perhaps the hardest part was my family and friends calling me crazy and begging me to stay and deciding to go anyway.

“I’ll never reach my destination if I never try, so I will sail my vessel till the river runs dry.”

November 21, 2009

10:50PM

Days One through Three

The Journeyride began on Thursday November 19 at 3:03PM from the space I was renting from Herb on Federal St. in Belchertown, MA. Halfpenny was there to see me off. Herb had just found out that I was going to the west coast by way of bicycle. He thought I was crazy. He had once told me of a man he knew who rode his bicycle from Belchertown to Northampton and back. Perhaps that conversation was part inspiration for this radical decision I’ve made. Or maybe I’m just crazy. Or maybe I’m finally doing what I was born to do.

Didn’t make it very far before I realized how much I despised my decision. I didn’t make it to route nine before that conclusion was made. My camel water pack broke off, my load strapped to the back of my bike kept falling over and my chest was pounding. That was mile one. Made it to the bank to cash the check herb gave me for the returned security deposit on the room I rented from him. The teller, Leah, had a skeleton key around her neck. Was a Tiffany’s necklace. She like skeleton keys she said.

Fared my way through the intersection of passed the common in town and down North Washington St. Load on back still falling. As I passed my friend Nick’s apartment I saw that his car was in the driveway. Figured it would be a while before I saw him again so I stopped in to say hello. It was just passed 4PM. After a time of talking, eating pizza, playing music, and YouTubing I spent the night on his couch.

I awoke just after 6AM to the sound of rain. Ran outside and threw the tarp over my bike, thankful that Jeff got it for me. My sleeping bag was quite damp. Nick got up soon after and said that if I am leaving that I should leave early. But that if I was staying that I should clean up the beer bottles. Slept till 11AM, cleaned up the bottles and got back on the bike. It was around noon when I made it to the post office and found a check waiting for me. Still no sign of the check UMASS owes me, nor the check from the City of Springfield that I’ve been waiting on since April. Everything in its own time I suppose. Said a final farewell to the Postmaster then said a final farewell to the tellers Family First Bank when I deposited the check. Sasha and Ginny thought I had already left on the Journeyride. Informed them of my delay and that I was really taking my time. Imagine if I was in a hurry! Sasha was training her replacement, Nichole. Did a little magic for them then I was off once again.

Made it part way up Three Rivers Rd. when Holly and Jeff stopped me to say hello. They too thought that I was already gone, and I too told them about the delay and my no hurriedness. Imagine if I was in a hurry! Going up Three Rivers Rd. I had to get off and push the bike up the hill. Hadn’t done hill climbing in a while…as in years. Going down Maynard was fun though. Felt like I was flying. It reminded me of something I had once told Stephanie, of my favorite part of riding bicycles is going downhill. With the sun in my face and the wind in my hair, just for a moment it feels like I’m flying; but in order to feel that I have to feel the pain of first going up the hill.

Made it to Boston Rd. when Tom Skawyra found me. “Trying to sneak out of town I see.” A few days earlier I had a lengthy conversation with him over the phone about the alternative options for the trip. Then again the following day after that conversation when I stopped at Capital Cleaners to pick up my suit. As absurd as the trip sounds to others (myself included) and even despite my own fears I had decided to do it anyway.

The night before I left on the journey I spoke to God. “God,” I said, “You’re really starting to piss me off. Everyone thinks I’m crazy! I think I’m crazy! If I have somehow misinterpreted your guidance now would be the time to tell me.” God’s reply was simple. “I support your intentions and your great work and have sent the angels to illuminate your every step. You cannot fail.” That was good enough for me.

Tom followed me and called ahead to the guys. When I stopped into Cumberland Farms that’s when Jason and Matt pulled up with Tom right behind. They checked out my rig. They had a better idea for me. Put the bike in the back of their van and headed to Jason’s. Matt went off to finish work and Jason and I ended up at Wal-Mart getting a much needed new backpack, as mine had already broke by the time I got to Wilbraham where they found me. This new $70 backpack is a much better set up than what I had and will make the Journeyride much much easier. Went out with the guys that night, Matt’s band was playing at St. Mary’s in Bondsville and good times were had by all. Several beers, several whiskies and three appletinis and even Tony was on the dance floor.

The next morning I woke up alone on Matt’s couch. Went to the piano and played Blessed is He. Kiwi, Matt’s cat, was asking for attention even though he really doesn’t want it. I followed him into the front room and realized I had never been in there before. The morning sun lit up the room brightly and the seldom used furniture was very inviting. I sat in a chair in that room for several moments before Matt came home after an all nighter with the band. I commented on the coffee table, “Is that a lobster trap?” “Yes it is a lobster trap,” he replied. “I like the way you work,” I said, “just in case a lobster wanders in here you’re ready for him.”

Breakfast at Dominick’s with Tony and Jason thus ensued. Michelle, the waitress was lovely. I almost commented on her shirt to her but I imagined that she might think I was coming onto her, and that I did not want. I just wanted to be nice. So I ordered a diet coke instead, after already ordering water and an orange juice. Glad I did, the orange juice was nasty! I had onion rings with my eggs and home fries.

Looked at some guns at Nick’s Sport Shop with the guys. Reminded me of the woman who recently shot and killed her son then herself at a shooting range. It also reminded me of Bud Dwyer. There was a really big fishing lure hanging from the ceiling. I wondered out loud what kind of fish would catch. The woman behind the counter laughed and said it was only for decoration. I imagined for a moment I using that lure in a small pond and catching a huge fish! Then I thought that with my luck I’d only catch a pumpernickel.

Day three ended with watching Shooter back at Jason’s place with him and Tony…or Antonio rather.

The angels illuminate my every step. Had it not been for Tom and calling on the guys I would not have received the much needed supplies to properly continue the ride. Three days in and I made it from Belchertown to Wilbraham. Some may question my commitment to the project when it may seem like I’m not taking it very seriously. I say that I’m doing exactly what I set out to do. I never said I was in a hurry. Imagine if I was in a hurry! I’d already be in Vegas working at the magic shop. But the next four months, instead, give me experiences to fill a lifetime of memories. No, I’m not in a hurry; I’m not looking to break any records or prove anything to anyone, not even myself. I’m just addicted to reality and experiences. Imagine if I was in a hurry. Imagine…imagine what day four will bring.

The journey beings November 16, 2009

Statement of Purpose

If actions speak louder than words then a three thousand mile bicycling journey across the United States is sure to be a message heard from Massachusetts to California.  The purpose of the ride is to connect with people across the country, bringing society closer together as a community, creating a solution to end homelessness and hunger, and leading the world into a new era.

French physicist and two time Nobel Prize winner Marie Curie once said, “Nothing in life is to be feared; it is only to be understood.” We must embrace that which we fear and the most common denominator of fear is a lack of understanding.  Performance artist Jonas Cain explores such themes in his work, which has motivated him to develop the Journeyride Project having personally witnessed these issues, to understand the root causes of chronic and severe poverty which are primary causes of homelessness.

According to the 2005 United Nations Commission on Human Rights, an estimated one hundred million people worldwide are homeless.  Embarking from his home community in Western Massachusetts with only that which he can comfortably carry on a bicycle, Cain is leaving behind family, friends, the comfort that they lend, and all that he has ever known, to embrace the fear and mystery of uncertainty so he can fully acquaint himself with what millions of people experience every day.

The ride will be filled with valuable social, economical and environmental circumstances influencing the resulting discoveries.  Along the over three thousand mile zigzag route across the United States, Cain will meet people from all walks of life, hearing their stories of struggle and perseverance, allowing him to use their voice in this journey of discovery.  Concluding the ride he will use these experiences in a manuscript illustrating the discoveries that only an assignment like this will reveal.

Please show your support for this project by tracking the progress at www.JonasCain.com and by making a donation to your local shelters and food pantries.  But please remember that charity only goes so far.  “By finding the root cause of an individual’s poverty and eliminating that cause,” Cain says, “there will be no need for such charities.” A world so blessed will be a more peaceful world indeed.

November 16, 2009

Frequently Stated Concerns and Explanations of Understanding

By Jonas Cain

October 2009

As of this writing I am twenty-six years old and have only finished two years of college, having left conventional studies in 2003.  Contemporary sociological conventions in North American society dictate that the logical thing now is to go back to University in pursuit of a “real” job.  Yet I hold that what is true for one is not necessarily true for another, even though we do share a universal collective experience; the problem here is that we all interpret the reality differently.  If my desire is to maintain the status quo then naturally I would not have made the decision to take on this mission at all.  But my aim, rather, is to move society beyond that which we have always known to experience something greater; to experience a new reality through heightened consciousness, ushering humanity into a new era.  If I were to ignore this drive to do this project in pursuit, rather, of maintaining contemporary cultural standards it would contradict my morals and compromise my values.  In the end we will not regret the things that we did, but we will regret the things that we never dared to do.

In 2008 an elephant told to me to dream big (no, really an elephant spoke to me).  The kind of big that if I told someone about the idea they would laugh at me, call me crazy for even thinking it, and tell me that I won’t do it and that it can’t be done.  It is just such a response that provides confirmation that an idea is a good one if there is the burning passion to do it.  Humoring the elephant, I tried this “dream big” philosophy.  The New England Patriots were going to the Super Bowl in Arizona that year and I got the crazy idea that I’d like to perform for them at their post-Super Bowl Party.  Surely it would be THE Super Bowl Party to attend.  I tested it out; I told people about my idea and they laughed at me and said that it couldn’t be done.  I was the one laughing when I found myself in the main ballroom of the Westin Kierland Resort Hotel in Scottsdale Arizona performing for the players and their families and guests just before Earth Wind and Fire and Alicia Keys went on.

This ride across the United States is the same thing.  There’s a vision of a new reality that I feel in my heart and soul.  A world free of hunger; free of homelessness; free of suffering; free of fear.  I have dreamed big.   And I am now taking the steps to make it happen.  The possibility of failure does not exist, for I have the burning passion to see its manifestation and the drive to never give in to the temptations that may threaten to keep me from this important and much needed mission of spreading light throughout the world.

I began consciously working on this project in 2007 even though I wasn’t aware of it yet (paradox intended).   An entry in my journal from February of that year says that my work will be, “…like an angel sweeping into…lives at just the right moment to deliver a message – then disappearing.” Later writing that the work would, “create such discussion and commotion that it would be difficult not to sit up and take notice…It will be like a dream of a new world…scary to some; absurd to others.” The idea is to use my work, essentially, as an Earth Angel; “to inspire meaning and hope,” to help positively guide humanity to experience a new world reality.

“An Earth Angel,” says Australian humanitarian Kerrie Guy, who is currently living and working in Cairo, says, “is someone who honors their spirit and passion in life; they allow it to guide them regardless of any logical perception they possess or any well meaning human advice they receive based on persons logic. Angels do not work in logic! Angels work from inspiration; that place where a multitude of valuable guidance resides for us each individually if we dare trust it! We all have the potential to be Earth Angels; we simply have to become inspired; that is we have to get ‘in – spirit’ and trust and work with our own unique inspiration!”

After hearing about the Journeyride some have asked, “Why?” To which I reply, “If not this, what? If not now, when?” Today is our chance to make a difference; what are we waiting for?  It is said that in order to get what we have never had we must do that which we have never done.  I fully understand that this physically challenging experience is also a spiritually challenging exercise.  As author and Community Arts Developer Patrick Overton famously wrote, “When you walk to the edge of all the light you have and take that first step into the darkness of the unknown, you must believe that one of two things will happen:  There will be something solid for you to stand upon, or, you will be taught how to fly.” It is hoped that this journey will likewise inspire one of two things to happen: that it will set into motion a series of events that will bring humanity to either stand upon the solid ground of peace, or to soar to heights beyond that which we can currently image.

Some have questioned my decision to begin the ride at the edge of the cold days of winter.  As a performance artist I find great joy in expressing meaning through metaphor and winter, representing death, perfectly expresses the profound emotional meaning which is part of the driving force behind this mission.  After experiencing the death of my best friend in 2007, it felt as if I too had died, yet I was still alive to grieve my own passing.  This symbolism will later be carried over to the end of the journey coinciding with the beginning of spring; representing rebirth and a hope for the future.

But the purpose of leaving in the winter goes even deeper.  Hundreds of thousands of people all over the world will be without refuge in the blistery months of winter this year by no conscious choice of their own.  We may be sympathetic to their circumstance.  We may be empathetic to their situation.  But by voluntarily joining in their suffering to help discover a panacea for their condition, it is an ultimate act of compassion to end the suffering of humanity.

As nineteenth century Canadian poet Henry Drummond once said, “Happiness…consists in giving and in serving others.” I do not maintain that doing this mission will make me or anyone else happy; but by boldly stepping forward and giving of myself to others despite the circumstances and despite the criticisms it is my conviction that true bliss will be found.  Simply put, the Journeyride Project embodies what twentieth century American mythologist Joseph Campbell famously instructed, “Follow your bliss.”

I am not that naïve to fail to understand that this ride will be without obstacles.  There will be moments that I will question my very decision to come up with such an idea, and wish that I was back home to sleep in my own bed.  That I had a warm home cooked meal.  That I could be with family and friends.  That I didn’t have to keep moving forward.  There will be moments that test my physical strength and mental capacity.  There will be cold snowy nights and burning hot days.  I will encounter less than kind individuals that only aim to take advantage of me and try to cause harm.  I will get injured.  I will get tired.  I will want to give up.  In short, I will experience the same frustration that hundreds of thousands of people deal with everyday.  But I will want something more.  I have something to say; and with the world listening I will say it.

It is my hope that this information has adequately answered some of the concerns about the Journeyride Project.  I do understand that these concerns come from “well meaning human advice” of persons of logic, yet I maintain that illogical thinking inspires innovation.  Contemporary English philosopher Tim Freke writes in his book Lucid Living that, “History shows that today’s sensible certainties soon become tomorrow’s silly superstitions.  We look back at many of the beliefs of our ancestors and find them crazy and amusing.  Isn’t it possible that our descendants will look back at our present cultural assumptions and find them equally crazy and amusing?”

If today someone suggested to you that woman in the United States should not have the right to vote you would undoubtedly question their sanity; yet less than one hundred years ago woman had to struggle to advocate, in some instances under dangerous circumstances, for that right.

Also in the United States, just over a hundred years ago, there were deadly confrontations because of those that held the radical idea that slavery was immoral.  Now we look back in disgrace at our ancestors for the severe lapse in judgment that allowed that injustice at all.

With this is mind, it is not too hard to image that a hundred years from now, or maybe two hundred years from now, that the world will similarly look back at our current time and just laugh and laugh at our absurdity.  They will wonder why we had to struggle so hard to achieve such sensible common needs that by then will be universal.

“You may say that I’m a dreamer, but I’m not the only one.”

- John Lennon

Too much has already been said about the Journeyride Project.  There is a danger in planning in that we plan so much without actually doing anything.  Nothing is ever perfect and waiting for something to arrive that never will is quite possibly one of the causes of insanity.  Dream.  Plan.  Act.  Evaluate.  Dream some more.  Plan some more.  Act some more.  Evaluate some more.  And repeat.

Please remember to express your support for the Journeyride Project by tracking my progress at www.JonasCain.com where you can view pictures and stories from the assignment.

We never truly know why we imagine such things until the day that a few key pieces of the puzzle fills in the spaces between our dreams and reality, revealing a picture that’s always been there yet not yet ready to be seen.

Spent the early years of my childhood growing up in a small town in Western Massachusetts. Warren was, and as I imagine still is, a disturbingly quiet town with a strange history. From a D.A.R.E. officer addicted to drugs; a resident notorious for being documented as possessed by the devil; and a trailer park built on a former leper colony. It is in the latter where I spent the first ten years of my life.

I was quiet. Reserved. Seldom spoke. Took life very literally which made it impossible for me to find humor in anything. One Halloween my parents threw a costume party for me and my school friends. I dressed as Groucho Marx so that I could wear a suit. The loud noise of party goers enjoying themselves made me hideaway in my room crying. My mother had to explain to me that that is what parties are about. Was incredibly organized; always had something to clean. My mother once had to punish me for cleaning my room too much. “Stop cleaning your room right this instant and watch TV!” Today I find the humor and irony in that circumstance but at the time it seemed like the worst punishment imaginable.

Spent most of the time living in my head filled with wild imaginations of a magical world where the impossible was possible. Children are so often told, “You can’t do this, you can’t do that,” yet in my mind all things were possible. From magic carpets to transforming the world around me to be anywhere I wanted to be. The ability to dream it then immediately live it. As with all children I had a wild imagination and the insatiable desire to express it. Perhaps that is why I embraced music and magic at such an early age.

For as long as I can remember I was always singing, making up songs and creating music with anything I found around me. I recall asking my parents one day if they would buy me a saxophone. At the time the instrument was bigger than I was so they naturally said no. My family was also of very modest means so they were of course reluctant to make such an expensive investment. It was the biggest thrill of my young life the day they surprised me with my first saxophone. Seventeen years later I can still remember not having a clue how to play a single note sitting in my bedroom alone and making noise on the Jupiter alto saxophone.

It wasn’t until my family moved to the nearby town of Palmer just after my eleventh birthday that I started writing. The move was traumatic. I had been taken away from all that I had ever known. Just when I thought I knew something of life it was shown that nothing is ever for certain. That was the first time I lost my bearing on reality. Writing was my way of coping with that truth. The mystery of the unknown.

Not surprisingly my passion for magic augmented that same year. It is said that it is just that which we fear the most that we must embrace. I knew nothing of philosophy then, yet it must be human instinct that brought me to embrace the mystery that magic provided. Supported by my father I was brought every week to Bianco’s Bike and Magic Shop in Feeding Hills to meet and learn from the local masters of magic (and buy and repair bicycles…and interesting combination). Perhaps the greatest magic trick of all was performed just two years after moving away when I returned to my hometown, during my first public performance. The shy kid that hardly spoke a word was now in front of the entire third grade class of Warren Community Elementary School performing the impossible. Overcoming introversion; finally expressing the inner dreams of a magical world to an audience of fellow children. Indeed, boldly stepping forward and performing regardless of my shyness was perhaps my first real magic trick. Fourteen years later I can still remember the feeling. Perhaps in a way I still feel it every day.

My readings became bizarre. Man Myth and Magic: the illustrated encyclopedia of the supernatural; and The Enchanted World of Wizards and Witches. The magic I had been learning at the time were simply tricks; puzzles disguised as magic. I was in search for the real thing. My writings as result took on deeper subjects; bizarre poetry that to this day I have no idea what I was thinking when I wrote them. Frustrated that I was not able to find the mystery that I was looking for I decided to create my own mystery artificially in a theatre program that combined my magic with music and poetry. This theatre production I imagined would perhaps quench my thirst to express this magical world I saw in my mind’s eye. On this subject much was written and drawn up, as I also found great joy in drawing. Pages and pages of notebooks filled with ideas and descriptions of the stage set and themes for this production. Then high school happened.

It is perhaps human nature that once we realize that we want something we want it yesterday. From an early age I knew what I wanted to do, share my passions, my magic, music, poetry, drawings…my art…with the world.  School had gotten in the way of that. Time was not moving fast enough for me so one day I came home from school and put my father’s shotgun to my head and pulled the trigger. Click. Wasn’t loaded. As patient as I may appear on the outside, on the inside I am very anxious. This was true then as it is now. There were no bullets that could save me from waiting so waiting was just what I had to do. Then I fell in love.

I was just fifteen when I first meet Stephanie. We quickly became the best of friends, doing anything and everything together. I was in love, but she said she was not. After high school we went off to college in our own separate ways. I studied music and she I did not know what for we had lost touch. Yet even now, eleven years since the first time I saw her, I can remember her singing and making up songs. She reminded me of my childhood and the magical world in my mind’s eye.

Life has a way of showing us when we’ve gone the wrong way, pushing us to where we really need to be.

College was clearly the wrong choice. I was broke, no money to buy food and living in my van in the Stop & Shop parking lot down by the river. That is how I spent my freshman year at UMASS Dartmouth studying to become a music teacher. A period of that pushed me to transfer closer to my family to study at Westfield State College. Life said that wasn’t enough and the Commonwealth of Massachusetts cut the funding to the Tomorrow’s Teacher’s Scholarship which I had been a recipient. The budget cuts pushed me out of college and into the business of starting my own business. It took only two years till I was ready to become a fulltime magician, performing for birthdays, weddings and bar mitzvahs. I had finally achieved my childhood dream of becoming a professional magician. But I felt something was missing. That’s when Stephanie reappeared.

I was still in love, but she said that she was still not. But we were once again the best of friends and did anything and everything together. She had become the most important thing in my life. Even more important than my dreams of sharing the magical world, for she became my magical world and my biggest most wildest dream. I once had an audition to perform magic on a TV show. I didn’t end up going because I had a better, more important opportunity. I got to drive Stephanie to the airport. We had lost touch for five years but I was more in love than ever before and wanted to take every opportunity I could to be there for her. I’m glad I did. Less than a year and a half later we became engaged to be married.

It happened all very suddenly one summer’s night in 2007. I can’t even begin to explain how it happened, for the very thing that I had wanted with all of my heart and soul yet was always told would never be just all of a sudden fell into my lap without an explanation. The course of my life changed forever that day as I restructured my plans to go back to music school and to abandon the entertainment industry. The life of a magician, after all, is no way to start a family. Abandon one dream for a greater dream; nothing could be more fair, especially if it involved sharing my life with Stephanie. Yet just as suddenly as the course of my life changed that day it changed again just seven days later when Stephanie didn’t wake up.

She passed away on a Wednesday morning. I wore black pants and a gray button up dress shirt, tucked in but with no necktie. It was a cloudy morning with a slight chill in the air so I had my black light rain jacket on with a black hat that most people confuse for a horse riders helmet. I hadn’t expected tragic news that day otherwise I would have worn my black and blue suit. To make up for it I’ve worn it every day since.

That was the second time I lost my bearing on reality. Just when I thought I knew something of life it was shown that nothing is ever for certain. Love, and all that I had ever known of it, had been taken away from me. The move from one reality to another was traumatic. Writing was my way of coping with that truth. The mystery of the unknown.

My writings became bizarre. Philosophical points amounting to immense contradicts about life filled the pages. What resulted is the script for a theatrical production combing my magic, music and poetry that expressed the magical world I see in my mind’s eye. The magical world that was and still is Stephanie. I didn’t realize it at the time, but this production was the long lost and forgotten childhood dream I had written about in my journals all those years ago. While I had become a fulltime magician I had stopped short. It took Stephanie, and the inspiration that she lends, to fulfill that end. On November 1, 2008 at 8PM that dream became a reality at City Stage in Springfield, MA.

It Just Happened the Other Day: A True Story is a story of love, loss and inspired hope to find the light in the dark. The production uses magic, music and poetry to tell this poignant story that has helped audiences heal emotional wounds and find their own light in whatever battle they may find themselves in. Armed now with this message of hope and light I once again have an insatiable thirst to share what I see in my mind’s eye with the world, to boldly step forward and perform regardless of circumstance or criticism. And so it is decided. That is what I shall do.

There is the story of the three frogs sitting on a log. The frog in the middle decided one day that it was time to jump off the log and into the water. So now, how many frogs are left on the log? The obvious answer would be two, but sadly there are still three frogs left on the log; for the frog in the middle only decided that it was time to jump into the water, but never actually acted on his decision.

Life has a way of showing us when we’ve gone the wrong way, pushing us to where we really need to be.

With the one year anniversary of that achievement I am now broke, with no money for food and am about to once again be homeless. Clearly I am not where I am supposed to be and am now being pushed out of my living situation to go to where I am supposed to be. Some may say that it is now time to go back to music school and become a music teacher. Others may say to go get a real job to make some money. Some may say join the military or a monastery or a commune or a cult. But I say none of this will do, for I feel my spirit once again speaking to me. The human instinct is once again asking me to embrace that which I fear the most: the unknown. This time in the form of a journey.

In college I wrote a short story called A Visit with Time. It told the story of a young girl who, as it is later revealed, had a visit with her older self. The experience rather alarmed her older self, for she recalled that in her youth she had met an old decrepit woman and, realizing it was actually herself, it caused her to lose her bearing on reality and time. In that story I coined the term journeyride.

Just before Stephanie went off to college she wrote in my year book, quoting from one of her favorite movies Forrest Gump, “Life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you’re going to get…I hope you get the world. Love Stephanie.” What’s interesting to point out is that her pen began to die at the end so the last few words became faint…but that’s just a symbolic foreshadow of things to come, just as everything else that happens I suppose. Is it possible to touch humanity is such a way that the course of the world and life on planet Earth is forever better? If so the answer is found in the words of Mother Teresa, “We cannot do great things; rather we can only do little things with great love.” And also the words of the Dali Lama, “Be the change you wish to see in the world.” After all, people may doubt the things that we say but they will believe the things that we do. Life has a way of showing us the way, like a magic shop/bicycle shop…an interesting combination.

It is a common theme in many cultures from Native American to African villages, that at a certain point in an individual’s life he or she must go through a journey into the dark night of the woods, or sit in a smoldering hot teepee, or even perform a pilgrimage of some sort. It is said that during this journey a transformation takes place for the individual. A spiritual awakening perhaps. Whatever it is, nature also shows similar experiences for its creatures. The water bug just before it goes through the metamorphosis to become a dragon fly, or the caterpillar in the chrysalis stage. There is a time when the caterpillar is no longer a caterpillar, but it’s also not yet a butterfly, reminiscent of Britney Spears’ song “I’m not a girl, not yet a woman.” It is just during this time of great change that we leave all that we’ve ever known for a new reality. But we know it’s coming, now reminiscent of the end of the world prophecies of 2012. But let us not look at it so literally as I had done as a silent child, rather as a symbolic foreshadow of things to come, just as everything else has been. So, too, is this journey into the dark night.

I have decided to jump off my log into the water to share the magical new world that Stephanie helped me to see in my mind’s eye, yet I have not yet acted on this decision. Now life, in its infinite wisdom, is pushing me, quite literally kicking me off my log, by taking away my resources to stay here. Taking away my resources to be content to be comfortable. Without comfort and content all humans seek to improve life in some way. I am reminded of Steve Job’s popular speech and his last few words, “Stay hungry, stay foolish.” I am hungry. I am foolish. Literally. I have no choice now but to now act on my decisions. Some say that with such an absurd unconventional dream surely there must be another way; but another other way would be contradictory to my values, and I refuse to prostitute my values and morals for comfort.

We never truly know why we imagine such things until the day that a few key pieces of the puzzle fills in the spaces between our dreams and reality, revealing a picture that’s always been there yet not yet ready to be seen.

I have a dream of going on a bicycle ride…as far as my imagination will take me. Not merely a day trip, but a journeyride; lasting days, weeks, months. Perhaps the bicycle is my ticket to freedom; a freedom to finally go to where I was born to go, to become who I was born to be. There are only two ways to find out. Do or don’t. Live or die.

Peace-

Jonas Cain

P.S. Information on the journeyride project will be put up on the website shortly. Please check back soon for updates.