I walk out of my house on a short walk with Lila.
A young woman smiles at me and shows me her basket full of small bottles of the most delicious colors.
“Would you like to buy some kombucha?”, she asks me.
Of course I would!
She tells me a little bit about their origin and I pick one. Grapefruit and Tulsi. I ask her to choose the other one.
Then I realize that I don’t have a bag because I was just going on a walk and it may be hard to carry them.
She does not have a bag either.
A few feet away from us a man had been trimming a tree, with the help of his son.
Hearing us, he asks his son to go inside their home and get me a bag.
A few minutes later I am walking away with two gem-like little bottles full of elixir.
Sometimes it’s hard for me to explain with words why I love being here.
This right there is part of it.
We've been here three months. There's been a shift.
Three months and three days ago, Lila and I were getting off the plane. It had not been an easy flight for us, and yet deep in my belly I had a sense of "we made it."
For the first time and after years of dreaming about it, I was in Mexico with no return ticket, no deadline, and no one waiting expectantly for me on the other side of the border. It felt tremendous. I felt free and ready for whatever.
Various phases awaited us.
We had the "get used to the house situation" phase. Which included the "get used to the mice and ants" phase. As well as the "make peace with the challenging bathroom" phase.
Several trips to the tianguis, a little pest control, and some paint/candles healing later, I love the house, its garden, its simplicity. When awake, we are outside 80% of the time and even the growing heat seems to be bothering Lila less and less.
There was "the cars phase." I wrote plenty about that one so I will just say that I have now a big YES for less-than-pretty, huge, safe, super comfortable, and capable cars. I learned a whole lot through that phase. Mainly that different lifestyles call for different cars and that it's dang important to get crystal clear on that. In Mexico, "cute" is entirely irrelevant, when it comes to cars.
There was the profound enchantment phase. Just about everything lit me up. I was high on it all. A mix of disbelief, gratitude, awe, and more gratitude. It was foreign yet a great fit. It was a little exotic yet familiar. It was well... enchanting. I wanted to drink it all.
My sister came to see me and fell into the charm, too. It was so good to share it with her.
About a month ago, I noticed that the bright shiny rapture was morphing. My busy mind immediately went to work on trying to make meaning out of this. Was I bored? Was I lonely? Then: was I done?
I missed the Ballroom a bit, too.
I sat with that and I wrote. I observed. And I tried to stay away from the busy mind business.
It lasted less than a week.
And then, I felt The Shift.
It was subtle and it was powerful. It reached deep and made its way into my gut. There it nestled and rested. And has remained.
The bright oranges turned into deep, rich amber colors. The turquoises into indigo. The amazement turned into a sense of belonging. The urge to drink it all grew into a knowing that there was so much time ahead. All the time, in fact.
I stopped trying to capture it all in writing. I let go of some "shoulds" that had been hanging around. I planted tomatoes and cucumbers and peppers - and a friend gave me the most deliciously scented gardenia.
One day, I felt the desire to learn to crochet. I looked for cotton yarn but could not find any. I was told that there was none around.
That week, I was guided to a Mexican version of The Center for Happiness, barely two months old. The partial walls are deep red and the ceiling is a palapa. It is open to the breeze on all sides and is half a block from the chocolateria. The falafel goddess serves her magic right below.
The couple who runs it passionately makes my heart smile. I think that I know their steps, their dreams, their wants. Showing up as a guest is an honor and is so very healing. The Ballroom is in my heart always, and this place, with a very similar logo, makes it sing.
I signed up for a ten-session macrame class. The first day, I could tell that the young woman who is both the teacher and the studio co-owner had much to teach me. A textile artist for the last 13 years, her little supplies corner is a magical spot of Abundance, Colors, and Possibilities.
More than a teacher, she is an inspirer and a facilitator, which really, is the best kind of teacher.
The first time, she showed me how to do a wall hanging. The only way I could remember the knots was to repeat the turns to myself in French. I thought it would never stick. But it did. I finished it and went home to make another one. Then a plant hanger. I'm now working on a basket edge.
Because Creativity fuels Creativity, I wanted to learn to crochet. She taught me - or rather, she revived what my mom had taught me when I was very young and before she became too busy. Again, Healing.
I went home and made a bag. Then another one.
Now I am hatching a vision for these little bags to go do some good in the world. Let's see how that turns out. Let's see IF it turns out.
I am growing some connections. Some deep ones and some easy, light ones. I am sleeping like a baby, eating lots of fruits, and Lila and I walk a whole lot, now early in the morning and after the sun goes down.
My body feels good, as do my mind and heart. I am grateful for the phone that allows me to stay connected with the people I love on the other side of the border.
It is going to get hot soon and we are going to leave our sweet little home for a more traditionally comfortable (and cool) home, for a while. A home with a small dipping pool, a real kitchen, lots of love, air conditioning, and a tiled shower.
It is simple. It is good. It is NOW.
Take great care of you, ok?
PS: Notice the words on the pencil case, on the desk of the studio, the first day I got there.
SCARED OF THE SACRED