There I was, writhing and lamenting and writing the most elegantly dramatic blog of my Life, writing about Life and why it is so terribly hard. Writing about sitting in an airless, lightless office.
And then. Edwin came in and interrupted me.
I smiled too sweetly, trying to satisfy the conversation with the mere nodding of my head and the well-timed, mm-hmm, while attempting to hold my focus and compose the next line of my post. However, I was pulled away and my focus shifted to the interaction.
Edwin left to get some soup from downstairs and who walked in but Don. One of the most magical friends I have met yet. I hadn't seen him since the last time I wrote about him on The Holy Moment. He talked to me about his trip to the Fillipines with his wife. He told me about her family there and how he had witnessed first-hand the effects a lack of clean water can have on people, on our children. He seemed to have almost skipped the outrage stage and had moved immediately into taking action from Love. He's learning about the process of purifying water, about sanitation plants, talking about petitions and letters to be written and thinking of how to contact a certain Fillipino icon to help promote taking vitamins and minerals. Brilliance. In more ways than one.
Headed towards the door, I was stopped by Vernon. Vernon is the one of the most dedicated and genuine men I have ever met. I have always admired his writing from afar, and in the brief time I have spent at the literacy program, he and I have formed a friendship of sorts. We have had discussions that have left me inspired and thinking for days afterwards.
He had gotten wind of my upcoming departure and wanted to make sure we stay in touch. He gave me his info and told me to give him a holler if I ever needed anything. The interaction was casual and almost bordered on formal, but his sincerity and the depth of his feeling was unmistakable. It touched my heart so deeply. I felt so honored by him. My response was heartfelt and I was surprised by just how much affection and respect welled up in me for this precious man.
Then it was time for the Creative Writing workshop I've been facilitating. The only learner who was able to make it tonight was Aurora. It couldn't have been more perfect. She is pure Crone-Grandmother-Wild-Woman. She walked in, embraced me, and pinned a gardenia blossom to my shirt. It's fragrance filled the room.
Aurora is Mexicana and had written her assignment about what she called her "liberty" as a woman, and more specifically a viaje to Chiapas. She began reading to me in a rich accent what she had written in a beautiful blend of english and spanish. As I listened, I watched her eyes rise from the page and she began speaking to me in more animated tones, expressing herself with her whole body. Slipping gracefully into spanish, she began telling me about her travels in Chiapas, her Adventures- the colors, the smells, the open market, the people, the food. Doing what she pleased, when she pleased.
She also spoke of los diarios, la rutina- the daily chores and routine that are a part of Life. She told me, "Todo a su tiempo." Everything in it's time. She told me of phases in her Life that were consumed by those daily duties, when she worked "como un burro." She spoke intuitively and with incredible Wisdom.
She said that there is a time for "Amar" and a time for "Amor".
She asked me about my Life and when I spoke of my great desire to travel she said,
"Ah, te encanta el movimiento."
Literally, "Movement enchants you." It was like she had shown a beam of light on my heart and spoken to something I have never found words for. The answer to the question, Why? Why can't I stay still? Why do I fall in love with so many places, so many people?
Ah yes, Movement. I am truly enchanted and enamored with Movement. With the Dance.
Aurora then told me her secret. She always keeps one day a week ( for her, Sunday) that is to be entirely and wholly hers. One day a week where she does only what her heart desires.
"And 20 minutes a day to relax!" She paused, "Do you want to relax right now?!"
Dizzy with the sweetness of gardenia and intoxicated by the magic of this Woman, I half stammered and half sighed, "Si."
She told me to close my eyes, sit however I felt most natural, and to breathe deeply. She asked me to breathe so deeply that every cell in my body would be energized and renewed. She told me to imagine a door, to see myself opening it, and walking through to the place that makes me feel the happiest, the most alive, que bien. For herself she described a garden, filled with vibrantly colored flowers- her senses overwhelmed with Beauty.
We stayed somewhere between that garden and the desert for what seemed like an eternity. I later found out that it had been, in a matter of "time"- about three minutes.
She then told me to walk back to the door and open it. She told me, "Cierra la, y ya, estamos."
"Close it, and here we are."
Previous to this moment, I had spoken of feeling weary- she now said more quietly, mas tranquila, "I wake up, I bathe myself- enjoying the warm water, the fragrance, it's delicious. To have that, una belleza, no? I put on clothes- to have clean clothes, una belleza. Un bendicion."
I was instantly humbled. Deeply so. How quickly I forget.
My eyes filled with tears of relief, gratitude, and pure joy. The flighty and fearful anxiety I had been feeling for the last couple of days, gone. She had asked me to become aware of my breath, aware of my body, and to find and open a door within myself that led me to a Sanctuary that would renew and refresh me. She had reminded me too, of how much I have to be grateful for.
In a matter of minutes, about 60 of them, she had shared her Life and the Wisdom it has taught her.
I taught her how to say "accupuncture."
Thought it was over? So did I.
I got into my truck and a live version of Bob Marley playing "Get Up, Stand Up" came on the radio. By far the most incredible recording I have heard of him yet. He jammed on the words "Don't give up the fight!" and "We won't give up the fight!" until the metal cab of my Chevy was humming with the vibration. What a Spirit that one was.
Sailing down 580, over the top at this point, the next song to come on has been one of my radio-only car ride favorites. The chorus sings,
"You got a lot of money but you can't afford the free way-"
Now, I don't know what this meant in the mind of the lyricist who wrote it, but to me, in that moment, with my struggle with "not-having" in the last few days still fresh, it was strikingly clear. Having little, living as free-ly as possible, still has it's cost. But I am grateful to pay it.
Then, Tommy called to know what time to expect me and to ask about dinner plans. He asked, "Where are you?"
My answer made my heart leap as I burst into shameless laughter- "THE FREE WAY!"
Heart overflowing, I howled the whole way home.
