Venice Beach, California
When I met Tommy, he was managing a small motel spa in the desert. He had that slow, confident desert way about him, and I liked him right off. I got to know and respect Tommy over the years by the stories he told about organizing peace demonstrations in the 1960s and his involvement with the Native Americans.
One day I was complaining and going on and on about some problems I was having with my business and the local community and how they were consuming my time and peace of mind. He watched me as I talked and nodded his head without saying a word. When I finished, he pushed his gray, sun-bleached hair off his face and glanced out the window.
“You know,” Tommy said, “One thing I’ve learned out here in the desert. I can’t fight the heat … I have to surrender to it.”