Some Days I Forget

Standing in front of the fruit store, I hear my phone ring.

My friend is calling and I answer “Hey, I am waiting for someone to meet me with a plate of meatballs and mashed potatoes. Can we talk in a half hour?”

His answer: “You just told me such a great short story, right there. That’s all I need for now. I’ll talk to you soon. He hangs up.”

He’s in Washington and for just a moment I get to see me through his eyes, I get to see Mexico through Washington eyes.

And I hear how funny it sounds, how funny it is, really.

The meatballs and mashed potatoes arrive, carried by a man from Belgium to whom I hand 120 pesos. I can already smell the garlic and it smells darn good. Marley and Lila are with me and they agree.

Mashed potatoes in Mexico. Hand carried over a muddy street. With a dash of nutmeg.

It’s noon and the short phone conversation invites me to look at my whole day so far and notice that yes indeed, it is all a bit quirky,

The morning started with a beach walk where an older gentleman showed me the treasure he had found: a twisted piece of wood shaped like either a standing bear or a shaman. Possibly both. The man is carrying his treasure home and he looks very happy about it. It’s not yet 7 am.

Then we pass three spots with the unmistakable prints left in the sand by mama turtles. I always feel these deep inside of my mama soul. Just last week I got to cheer two tiny just-hatched babies on their way to the big waves. Just the two babies, my two pups, and me. I exhaled Thank You.

A few minutes later I am able to take a photo of Oso, a dog famous in the village, so that I may go home and paint him and add him to my Loteria game (see? Just this ONE sentence… ). Since he was a tiny pup, Oso has walked around the village, eaten at plenty of restaurants, and been loved by many people. He has a person with whom he lives but he has never been one to not do what he wants.

10 am. Back home, I give a tour to a young man who is interested in planting a small organic garden next to my house. He tells me that at sowing time he will be walking barefoot, and putting his hands all over the soil so that his sweat may meld with the earth, and this way the seeds will know exactly what kind of minerals to develop to nourish him.

Then to the vet to get Lila and Marley’s current weight. The scale is broken and so the vet tells me not to worry, just take them both to the hardware store and weigh them on the cement scale. That’s what we do.

It’s not even noon and had I not received my friend’s phone call, I would likely not have taken the time to have perspective and notice how different my days are, down here.
This sort of stuff happens all the time. The weirdest conversations. My friend who tells me she is digging out her rocky garden … in her bathroom. My other friend who just finished a two-month psilocybin microdose treatment and raves about it, then gives me the WhatsApp number of the woman who sells the medicine. “She always throws in a chocolate,” she adds.

The pineapples. Right off the truck, on my way home I bought three ripe and swoon-smelling pineapples. Fifty pesos for all three.

A blend of so many Essences. What are they? I see Freedom, I see Creativity, Ease, Simplicity, Community.

Essences that really work for me.

Almost all the time.