PRO SERIES: Wrestling In The Streets Of Mexico For $42.26: Part One: Man Tears In The Mountains

Editor’s Note: I was late to the Jason Kincaid party. I first saw him in the ROH Top Prospect Tournament in 2016, and it wasn’t tough to tell that he was someone to watch out for. A unique look and an even more unique style, Kincaid is a world traveler that was introduced to me personally by John Moorehouse. When Moorehouse asked if we’d want an exclusive interview with Fightful, I considered Kincaid’s plight and thought “No, we want inside Kincaid’s mind. We want Jason asking the questions and providing the answers.” I don’t think you’ll be disappointed in his written words, or physical actions.

Snowflakes are falling gently from atmosphere, Bing Crosby’s version of “White Christmas” is falling gently on my ears, and tears are falling gently from my eyes, as I come to the realization that this is the best day of my life.

Today is Monday, December 12, 2016. My co-pilot, a.k.a. my wife Amber, and I are winding our way through the Sangre de Cristo mountains on the Enchanted Circle Scenic Byway of northern New Mexico in our newly acquired 2015 Chevrolet Sonic. We have been in the car, which Amber has christened “Ester “, for over 21 hours. We are coming from a friend’s house in Dandridge, Tennessee headed to a friend’s house in Guaymas, Sonora, Mexico. Tonight, we are staying at an ashram (Hindu/Yoga monastery/hermitage) dedicated to Neem Karoli Baba, an Indian Guru whose most famous instructions to his devotees was “feed people” and “love everybody”. When asked, “How should I meditate?” He replied, “Meditate like Christ”.

“But, how did Christ…meditate?” They asked.

“He lost himself in love, that’s how he meditated. He was one with all beings. He loved everyone, even the people who crucified him. He never died. He is the atman [soul]. He lives in the hearts of all. He lost himself in love.” The elderly Hindu man, wrapped in his only possession, a plaid blanket, replied to his Jewish-Westerner followers.

I consider myself neither Hindu nor Christian, but I am touched by those words.

I am also touched by the sweet, sentimental synchronicity of song and snowfall. But, is that why my often seen-as-mean eyes are graciously watering my often stared at beard? Maybe, a little, but it’s more than that; I have lost myself to the moment, all my fears and desires have fallen away. I should be happy, but I am not. I am content. Blissfully, peacefully content. This isn’t the best day of my life because I got something that I want. It’s the best day of my life because… I. Don’t. Want. Anything.

Ah. What a graciously bestowed, unfamiliar feeling of sanctuary, but… Wait. It actually feels like something else? A long-forgotten dream, maybe? Nah.

Oh, yeah. That’s it. 1,480 miles from my house and I feel at Home, finally, in this World.

And this is just the first 24 hours of my cross-continent trip to wrestle in the streets of México for forty two dollars and 26 cents.

(Photo Courtesy of Triple Threat Photography, permission by owner/operator Josey Morgan)