Posts tagged courage

Opportunities and Challenges of Donald Trump’s Presidency

The world awoke to a surprising reality on Nov. 9, 2016, that a sleazy businessman – who has said and done the most outrageous, vulgar and hateful things – was elected the 45th President of the United States.

I wandered in a daze all day, under chilly gray skies, unable to focus. Everyone I passed seemed grim, as if a veil of sadness covered the usually sunny, colorful and friendly city. I felt I had entered a book I’d just published for a Young Adult author in Cuba about a cloudy city under the curse of a council of evil witches. I didn’t want to think what this might mean, but of course I knew – just as when I watched the Twin Towers fall – that today was a day that the universe changed.

Facebook friends from the U.S., Canada, England, Netherlands, Spain, Cuba and Mexico expressed extreme sorrow, anger, frustration, bewilderment, and reported even physical reactions like crying and vomiting. And then there were the voices for calm, hope, renewed commitment to values of equality, justice and freedom; and calls to actions of kindness and reconciliation.

What are the challenges?
brother and sister photoBesides the obvious of getting over our immediate reactions of shock, projections of the worst-case scenarios and commiserations of how badly we feel, we need to look out for one another. There are a lot of crazy and angry people who may feel they’ve been given carte blanche to vent. I don’t mean looking out for just our families and small circle of friends, but anyone who might be the victim of hateful or nasty words or deeds.

This same day, a petite blond woman friend was walking down the street, in our seemingly peaceful village of San Miguel de Allende, and a young Mexican dude screamed at her, “Regresa a su país!” (“Go home!”). She is home, a Mexican born and raised in San Miguel.

Anger is powerful, releasing all sorts of chemicals to the brain and body, like adrenaline and nonepinephrine, the same that are released when we feel threatened or unsafe; i.e., in fear. “… Our brains are wired in such a way as to influence us to act before we can properly consider the consequences of our actions. This is not an excuse for behaving badly – people can and do control their aggressive impulses and you can too with some practice. Instead, it means that learning to manage anger properly is a skill that has to be learned, instead of something we are born knowing how to do instinctually.” (From the “Physiology of Anger“)

We need to overcome our fears, old friends photorewire our thoughts and feelings by imagining and actively creating best-case scenarios. This stimulates all sorts of positive neurochemicals that let our bodies know it is safe to be expansive, to be creative, to love and be loved.

What are the opportunities?
For the “Tribe of the Kind and Conscious” – which you are by virtue of reading this – I think it means that we’re going to have to step up to the plate. It’s our turn at bat. How conscious are we really? How aware of the matrix? How willing to put aside our egos, our differences and our comfort zones?

All the years of practicing meditating, yoga, opening our minds and hearts, becoming vulnerable to feelings and aware of the difficulties of being human… now we get to put it to use in the world. Many of us are the elders, the ones who’ve lived through many battles – starting with our own demons. We’ve developed good communication skills, awareness and deep concern for the planet’s health and our own. We know a lot. And, most importantly, we know how to be kind, the meaning of compassion and the power of gratitude and love.

Everything is in crisis! So, how do you and I respond in a crisis? First-responders – those amazing EMTs, firemen, ER docs and nurses – are trained to know what to do, but their work usually involves a singular event, while the complexity of issues and real problems facing all life on earth is extraordinary. Never has the human race been at this point, and you and I are here. What will we make of this? What will we do now?

We could follow Garrison Keilor’s wry advice in today’s Washington Post OpEd piece: ” … let the Republicans build the wall and carry on the trade war with China and deport the undocumented and deal with opioids, and we Democrats can go for a long, brisk walk and smell the roses.” Or, we can exercise our passions, our wisdom and our hearts to collaborate, cooperate, believe in the power of kindness, compassion and love, and support one another in creating, as author Charles Eisenstein calls it, “The more beautiful world our hearts can imagine.” Why not? What better do we have to do?

If you saw yourself as a most-powerful being, what beautiful world would your heart imagine? Please leave a comment below.

beach at sunset, beautiful world

Cuban profiles

It’s the people, the encounters, the relationships, that make any travels special… or, for that matter, our lives, wherever we find ourselves. And this is especially true in Cuba. Here are a few special souls I’ve encountered.

Cuban mother and child
Kariber and Enzo, my comadre and godson, and among the best reasons I feel so connected to this complex, and often frustrating country.
Cuban father and daughter
Omar, my favorite Cuban Buddhist astrologer, and his new baby, at their apartment where I am welcome with tazitas de cafe, hugs and philosophical conversations about the nature of joy and suffering and the power of conscious awareness.
Cuban pianist
Pablo Marzol, classical pianist, masseuse and student of the Kabbala… his cell phone screen saver is the tree of life and we spoke at length about the sephira and the power of vibratory sounds.
Cuban woman and her cat.
Maria Julia was sitting in front of a crumbling mansion in Vedado with an exceptionally affectionate cat. The house, she told me, was once the German Embassy. After the revolution, a woman converted it to a guesthouse. It is due for renovation this winter. Maybe. Maria, 78, has been living there for 37 years, with 2 sisters, 5 grown kids, 8 grandchildren and 3 great grandchildren. The cat has become her special companion.

 

68 Thoughts A Baby-Boomer Woman Traveler Has When Traveling Alone in Europe

IMG_1247After walking the ancient wall that encloses the original city of Girona, Catalonia,  I returned to my computer to find an article, “68 Thoughts Every Traveler Has On Their Trip Around The World” by Nomadic Matt, one of the many travel writers to whom I happily subscribe. He does a great job at encouraging his peers to “travel cheaper, better, and longer.” While his article appeals and applies to a 20-something beer-drinking, hostel-staying crowd – the ones I met 35 years ago – it inspired me to wonder if I could make a list of “68 Thoughts A Baby-Boomer Woman Traveler Has When Traveling Alone.” Why not?

Matt wrote his list in the third person; mine is first-person and I would not presume or generalize about anyone else’s experience. Although I have had some times of loneliness, I am pleased to note I’ve had no regrets about embarking on this journey, I have been supported in countless ways by human angels at every turn, and have faith I will find my way “”home” and inhabit my dreams all along the way.

Your comments, as always, are welcome. As Iggymo would say, smiles and love.

68 Thoughts A Baby-Boomer Woman Traveler Has Traveling Alone

1. I’ve done this before, I can do it again.
2. This time I am more mature, have more skills and contacts and know-how to plan and budget.
3. I know it’s important to travel light, but damn, I need these 5 pairs of shoes because I have bunions and my feet ache and I need to have alternatives.
4. I will be traveling to various climates and have many experiences, so I need a variety of clothes for warm and cool weather, informal and more formal.
5. I need these hair and body products, this makeup, these over-the-counter drugs just in case… it’s a lot to carry, but important.
6. OK, so I fit everything into 2 rolling bags that weigh in just below the airline limit (25kg each). No matter, I can hire porters and airport carts.
7. There are no porters and airport carts. My bags are way too heavy.
8. I’m afraid I’m going to strain a muscle.
9. Why is there no one to help me?
10. Why did I agree to stay in a 4th floor walk-up without an elevator?
11. Oh well, it’s for a few weeks and I only have to carry them up and down once.
12. Yay! I am in Madrid!
13. It’s a beautiful city I’ve been in twice before and know my way around.
14. There are people everywhere, and I am lonely.
15. I attend InterNations events and get together with a few people. Well done, making new friends, seeing the sights.
16. I am still lonely.
17. I need to make more friends.
18. I do. Good, interesting people. Good for me.
19. This is the first stop on what may be a long journey in search of home. I chose this. Be patient.
20. Love yourself.
21. Everyone thinks you’re courageous.
22. I’m not. I want to see if it’s true what I’ve been telling others: that you can “Inhabit Your Dreams!” Can you really? Can I?
23. Damn, I spent a lot of money on clothes, thinking I needed to buy them before I left, only to discover I could have bought better, cheaper, more interesting clothes in Madrid.
24. I’ll give away everything I don’t need and then my suitcases will be lighter.
25. Two bags of clothes and toiletries gone to the woman who cleans the hallways, and still my bags are full to the max and too heavy.  How can this be? What else can I give away?
26. Why did I bring all those toiletries and medicines? I can buy almost everything I need when I need it.
27. Why did I bring a router and printer? I thought I’d need them for my work, but this is Europe and there is wi-fi and copy shops are everywhere. Get rid of them.
28. I give them to friends to use, with the agreement I can have them back if I need them. Why would I need them? Stop hanging on to things for some imagined contingency.
24. I carry the still-too-heavy bags down 4 flights of stairs, one at a time, at 7 a.m. Why is there no one here to help me?
25. I could hurt myself.
26. I do not know how to travel light.
27. Why is the taxi I reserved not here to take me to the train station?
28. I could miss my train and keep a friend waiting who is driving a long way to meet me. How would I get in touch with her? I haven’t figured out how to call France from Spain on a Spanish cell phone.
29. I am pathetic.
30. I will leave all my things in the hallway and hope no one steals them while I run around the corner and hope to find a taxi. Am I am idiot?
31. I find a taxi. I am OK. I am resourceful.
32. Strangers help me with my over-weight bags. I am blessed.
33. My new friend is at the Bayonne station to meet me. All is well.
34. I stay at her beautiful home in the French countryside. I am so lucky. How can two weeks pass so quickly? I didn’t get much done.
35. I am much more relaxed, at peace with this path I’ve set for myself.
36. I am organized.
37. I leave more things behind but my bags are still too heavy.
38. I am on my way to Girona, where I have wanted to go for years, and with a great place to stay, thanks to more great people in my life. It’s all good.
39. There is a French railroad strike and I cannot use the ticket I bought weeks ago to Girona. Now what? Why is this happening to me?
40. There must be another way to get there. Yes, a bus at midnight getting me in at 4 a.m. OK, I’ll deal with it. I buy the bus ticket. Whew. I’ll email my friends in Girona.
41. Fuckin’ internet at the station doesn’t work (“Sorry for the inconvenience” says the online message). I am being foiled at every turn. Am I not supposed to go to Girona? Stop with the “magical thinking,” it’s just a railway strike!
43. I find a wifi signal and get through to them. They are very helpful and consoling. Relax. All is well.
42. Can I just retreat to the comfort of my friend’s nice house in the country? No, you must carry on. Remember how courageous your friends think you are.
43. Thank god there is baggage storage next to the train station. I wheel my bags, piggy backed. It works on flat paved ground. Pretty cool.
44. Now what? I break down and cry. Why am I all alone? This is too much.
45. You’re in Toulouse. You were here before in 2008, as a journalist guest of the Tourism Board. You can rent a city bike. You have a Mexican credit card with a chip in it that should work. You are so smart.
47. With help from other bike renter, you figure it out. It works. Now ride around and see what you can discover. It’s a beautiful day. All is well.
48. I wave at kids on a boat on the river and stop to buy a bottle of water. A young French man and I get into a conversation. He is a filmmaker, lived in Australia, is full of ideas. We talk for a hour. He takes a photo of Iggy and me and the bike. How sweet! Life is full of good things.
49. The gazebo at the park is full of dancing couples, the sidewalk cafes full of friends. It is beautiful and I feel lonely.
50. The bus is full and cramped. How have I managed to travel widely and this is the first time ever that my plans have been derailed? I guess I am lucky.
51. I am in Girona. My friends make me feel very welcome. But they are leaving for the weeks I will be here. I will be alone.
52. This is a beautiful apartment they have given me. I feel grateful.
53. The city has so much history and places to explore. I can take care of myself here, see what I want, do what I want.
54. I don’t really care about churches and museums. I’ve seen a lot of them. What am I really interested in and when am I going to finish writing the two books I have in process?
55. I get out and walk around, talk to people, use “my companion” IggyMo as a device. Some moments are interesting, engaged. I stop and interact. I am good at this.
56. There are many shops with beautiful things. I don’t need to buy anything. It’s strange not having a home in which to put beautiful things.
57. The bread, pastries, wine and chocolates are fabulous and cheap. I am enjoying them all and hope I don’t gain weight.
58. That’s what happened 35 years ago when I traveled in Europe alone. But I was scared then. I’m not scared now, just missing having someone to share all this with.
59. I have coffee with a neighbor. How nice!
60. He has a life. I don’t. But I am just getting started creating this new one. Be gentle with yourself.
61. I am good at distracting myself with Facebook, with work, with writing this list.
62. Remember: this is what many people dream of doing. This is what you said you dream of doing!
63. I feel grateful for my freedom, for the many friends around the world who think of me, care about me, allow me to care about them. How blessed I am!
64. I will take myself to the coast tomorrow, as it will be hot and sunny and I want to go to the Costa Brava, the Brave Coast. I want to be brave.
65. This is my life, my human experience. I am fortunate to be here, to look out over this beautiful historic city of Girona and have so many adventures ahead.
66. I could go to a jazz club tonight, but I am too tired.
67. I think of going to Barcelona for a day or two, as it’s so close, but it seems exhausting. I was there for a week in 2006 and I have no desire to sightsee. Too many people. Better to stay in a place, ideally for a month of more.
68. In 2 weeks I will train to Paris (if there’s no train strike) and meet up with one of my oldest, dearest friends and, for that week, and the next with another friend in Burgundy, I will share the experience and appreciate not being alone. I will get rid of even more stuff, and little by little my luggage must surely become lighter.

Letting Go

SHE LET GO…

As we say adios to 2011, reflecting on what is past, envisioning what lies ahead, and cultivating Presence and gratitude in the Now, this beautiful poem (below) was sent to me by Michael Sudheer (check out his website for fabulous photos of San Miguel de Allende). I share with you these profound words and my wishes for your experience in 2012 to be that of abundant health, joy, love; and that you inhabit your dreams!

 

 

She Let Go
Without a thought or a word, she let go.
She let go of fear.
She let go of judgments.
She let go of the confluence of opinions swarming around her head.
She let go of the committee of indecision within her.
She let go of all the ‘right’ reasons.
Wholly and completely, without hesitation or worry, she just let go.
She didn’t ask anyone for advice.
She didn’t read a book on how to let go.
She just let go.
She let go of all the memories that held her back.
She let go of all of the anxiety that kept her from moving forward.
She let go of the planning and all of the calculations about how to do it just right.
She didn’t promise to let go.
She didn’t journal about it.
She  didn’t write the projected date in her Day-Timer.
She made no public announcement.
She didn’t check the weather report or read her daily horoscope.
She just let go.
She didn’t analyze whether she should let go.
She didn’t call her friends to discuss the matter.
She didn’t utter one word.
She just let go.
No one was around when it happened.
There was no applause or congratulations.
No one thanked her or praised her.
No one noticed a thing.
Like a leaf falling from a tree, she just let go.
There was no effort.  There was no struggle.  It wasn’t good.  It wasn’t bad.
It was what it was, and it is just that.
In the space of letting go, she let it all be.
A small smile came over her face.
A light breeze blew through her.
And the sun and the moon shone forevermore.
Here’s to giving ourselves the gift of letting go…
There’s only one guru ~ you.

Dr. Ernest Holmes
Founder, Science of Mind

Guanajuato – Revisiting the Past

On the steps of the University of Guanajuato where I modeled for the art department for a semester in 1974.

Last week I had the extraordinary experience of being 19 years old again.

As a gringa living in San Miguel de Allende (SMA), in the state of Guanajuato in central Mexico, I am often asked: “Is this your first time here?” While my last time was earlier in 2011 (see January and February archives), my first time was actually in 1974, at the age of 19. I had spent five days in SMA, en route to explore other parts of Mexico, after living and working for some months in the nearby colonial city of Guanajuato. This past winter, while in SMA for 8 glorious weeks, I had thought to make the one-hour bus trip to revisit Guanajuato after 37 years, but I simply did not do it, and might have continued avoiding my past, had it not been for a friend, author Susan Cobb, who made a date to accompany me.

Before I recount what I discovered on this recent trip, permit me to tell you how I came to live in Guanajuato in the first place: After working all summer of 1974 in Vail, CO, I managed to save a whopping $400, which was not sufficient funds to return to University of New Mexico in Albuquerque, where I had completed a year of credit. Instead, I decided to go to Mexico where, I figured, I could have a grand adventure for cheap and practice Spanish, which I had studied throughout junior and senior high school.

In that very different, less fearful world of 1974, I gave no thought to hitchhiking  from Denver to El Paso, walking across the international footbridge into Ciudad Juarez for 2¢, and boarding a Chihuaheses (Greyhound) bus south. I didn’t have a guide book or even a map, and no idea of a destination. When I couldn’t stand being on the bus a moment longer, I got off and, as good fortune would have it, I was in Guanajuato; arguably the most beautiful and colorful city in Mexico.

It is both a historic city – famous for its wealth from nearby silver mines that created splendid examples of colonial architecture and playing a major role in The Mexican War of Independence (1810-1821) – and a cultural center – with the Teatro Juarez (see images), la Universidad, the Cervatino Festival each October (that I experienced in its 2nd year, from the rooftop of the pension in which I lived right in Plaza San Roque) and a World Heritage Site designation in 1988.

Memories, at least for me, seemed to be stored in the stories I have kept and retold, and after 37 years and many travels and adventures in the interim, I was assailed, upon reentering the historic central zone of the city, by a flood of forgotten memories.

Upon entering the grand Mercado, I recalled conversations and bargaining for wooden utensils, terracotta bowls, fruits and vegetables. In those days it was normal to bargain for everything.

Guanajuato Mercado

On the street in front, the perennial hawkers and vendors seemed like the same ones from decades before, perhaps the sons and daughters of those I had seen. I imagined the layout of the hotel I had stayed in nearby, for a week, where I encountered a giant scorpion for the first time. “Don’t worry,” said the owner in response to my screams of terror, “It’s a big one. You only need to be careful with the small ones.” Although not reassured, I was enchanted by the new and foreign world into which I had cast myself.

Susan and I wandered amid outrageously colorful buildings on winding stone streets full of college-age students, just as when I was there. In my mind’s eye I could see the actual faces of my friends and recalled Beatles songs that had been sung to me in the Jardin by eager young men with guitars, wanting to impress with their only knowledge of English.

Susan Cobb, at one of many plazas in Guanajuato, where we "not-19-anymorers" enjoyed brunch.

The students walked purposefully, having places to go and friends to meet up with. I remembered how it felt to live there, to be 19 and have friends with whom to engage in late night philosophical conversations in bars and then to trudge up steep alleyways to the only cheap quesadilla joint still open at 2 or 3 a.m. I thought about how we are all in our 50s now, having lived essentially whole lives… jobs, careers, marriages, children, dreams fulfilled, or not. And, no doubt, some had already died, or suffered major illnesses and accidents.

There was no point in wondering what had unfolded for Alfredo, a large and friendly fellow whose slight by feisty madre owned the pension, or “Dirty Panther,” my funny curly-haired boyfriend whose real name was Jesus, or Marianna, my housemate who had been a belly dancer in San Francisco, as we did not keep in touch after I left. Long-distance communications were difficult and expensive in 1974.

Door to the Pension where I once lived, overlooking San Roque Plaza where the Cervantino Festival has been taking place since 1972.

But I reflected on my life and the young woman who, with no one to be responsible to or care where I was, made friends, found enjoyable work, and was courageous and present for life’s grand adventures. I realized that I am the same person I was at 19 who still does not know what lies ahead, as we never do… despite the delusion of all our planning and goal setting.

Yes, of course I now have more knowledge and wrinkles, but it’s not what we acquire that matters; what’s important is what we leave behind. I hope that I am leaving a trail of kindness and encouragement. We are all just passing through…

Aysha in Callejon del Besos (Alley of the Kisses)

After an emotional day revisting a beautiful place I once lived, I concluded that if the wondrous and predominantly benevolent experiences of my past are any indication, there is no reason to fear the future. As a Mexican boy once sang to me in the Guanajuato Jardin, “All you need is love.”

Transitioning To A New Story Of Connection

Charles Eisenstein, author of "Ascent of Humanity", spoke to Journey Santa Fe group this morning

Depression. Anxiety. Despair. We are familiar with the morass of emotions regarding old systems and beliefs that separated us and no longer work, and new creative ideas and ways that connect us but are not yet fully developed.  We know things must change, but it’s often difficult to imagine ‘how’ when it seems the “powers-that-be” are so entrenched and destructive.

This morning, I was feeling pretty sad, thinking of the Japanese nuclear meltdown and the U.S. obsession with war. Just yesterday, as one small example, 165 Trident missiles were shot into Libya at $1.5 million each, or $250 million dollars (just a tip of the iceberg of the day’s military expenditures). How can we reconcile this recklessness and dollar expense with the death and destruction of Libyan lives and the fact that every aspect of our society needs rebuilding? We can’t. It doesn’t make any sense… except if we see it as the old story that is passing away.

“When something is almost finished, it takes on an extremely grotesque appearance. We are in the death throes of the civilization we’re living in. As institutions and systems crumble, we are in a world in transition,” says Charles Eisenstein, author of “Ascent of Humanity”, about the history and future of civilization from a unique perspective: the evolution of the human sense of self.

This morning, I had the pleasure of hearing Eisenstein speak, sponsored by Journey Santa Fe at Santa Fe’s Travel Bug store.

Eisenstein, 44, sees this time in history as one of great transformation. He is hopeful, but not idealistic; visionary, but not unrealistic. His message encourages us to see what is passing away and what is being born, recognizing we are in a liminal state; on the threshold of turning from systems of exploitation and separation to those of co-creation and mutual care.

Looking at what has been and no longer works, Eisenstein explained how the money game, based on interest-bearing debt, converts nature to goods and relationships to services, thereby creating scarcity, competition and mindless greed that has separated us from one another.

He talked of those so engrossed with the virtual world that “they do not see or care that earth, ecosystems and people are dying of neglect. We have seen our selves as separate, and even the story of self is ending too. We’re learning this painfully.”

The importance of stories
“We don’t believe in the old stories, but we don’t have the new stories yet,” said Eisenstein, holding out the vision that our new story contains and embeds a new story of the people, connected. He is sure that “We are here to love and co-create our relationship with earth.”

There are many examples of how things are changing and we are acknowledging the importance of our hearts. He cites “alternative medicine” and “holistic approaches” which many people in our society now seek. Another example is hospice. You can ask your logical mind, “What difference does it make to be with a dying person?” Our hearts know this is significant but our minds don’t understand. As we’ve all experienced, our mind argues with our heart. It is time, he contends to guide our choices in a different way.

So, how do we make this transition, to write and tell this new story of the people connected?  “This is evolutionary,” said Eisenstein. “We need to undo the ideology of separation, undo the old stories, listen to our heart and what it wants to say, “yes!” to.  We need to cultivate the connected self.”

The role of the Gift
His idea for cultivating the connected self, or community, is recognizing the role of the Gift.  Eisenstein explains, “In traditional money-based economy, if there’s more for you, there’s less for me. In the gift-based economy, if you have more than you need, you give it away. Ecology works like this. We know this but we don’t believe what we know.

“Most of us spend our lives doing things we don’t really believe in… for the money. I’m pretending to care because I’m paid to. You find yourself asking, ‘What about MY life?’  If your gifts are not totally expressed and received, you feel you’re not living your life.

“Our desire is to want to give and enact our purpose here. Community is woven from gifts and stories, and reliance on one another. In our society, money replaces the need to need or appreciate another – ‘I paid you!’  Gift creates a tie. I feel gratitude for the knowledge of having received, and give in return.

“Gift expands self. Greed becomes insane.  To give and receive is balance. To refuse gifts is stingy, selfish, rude. Give your gifts. Trust your desire to give, and the universe responds to it. Visualize to ready yourself to say ‘yes!’”

How do we infuse today’s world with properties of the Gift?
In a word: Appreciation. In my experience – as a human, a woman, a writer, a coach, someone for whom the human story is endlessly fascinating and human relationships of kindness and decency supremely important – I am in full agreement with Charles Eisenstein that changing the grotesque old story of separation and disconnection to a new one of love and connection begins with appreciation of one’s self and the world we each create moment-by-moment through our thoughts, words and deeds.

May we each hold the vision Eisenstein articulates of reunion, not separation. We know that old game and it’s not working. It’s time to wake up, listen to our hearts and share and receive our gifts. I welcome your thoughts below!

Eisenstein’s new book, “Sacred Economics” is due out July 2011.  To read more about all this and get connected, I recommend his blog, Reality Sandwich, “evolving consciousness, bite by bite, counteracting the doom-and-gloom of the daily news.”

Pursuing Her Dream As A Young Artist

Mirasol Mendez, future San Miguel de Allende artist

To dash out to the store for eggs, cheese, bolillos, avocados, bananas, I need only to walk a short block to the corner tienda where Marisol and her mother, Carmen, greet me with huge smiles and easy conversation. Mirasol is a beautiful 21-year-old who is learning English by watching TV.

When we first met, Mirasol confided that she would like to work for an artist and be a painter herself. “Why would anyone hire you?” I asked. She shrugged and made herself small like a little girl, no doubt believing it’s impolite to toot one’s own horn. I rephrased the question: “How would your best friend answer that for you?” She puffed up and said with a swagger, “Because I’m very creative!”

I have been nudging Mirasol to enroll in Casa Cultura, a state-sponsored arts and crafts school she did not know existed, with the idea of creating a portfolio. “I’ll need that to go to Instituto Allende,” she declared, obviously having imagined herself attending the prestigious art school.

Carmen supports her daughter’s dreams. “I didn’t have the opportunities she has,” she admits with pride in providing Mirasol the chance for a different life than that of her own: 12 hours a day, 7 days a week, behind the counter of the family business.

Today when I entered the store, five weeks since our first conversation about her wanting to pursue art, Mirasol jumped up from behind the counter cluttered with jars of candy and bags of chips and nuts, and announced, “Surprise, Aysha! I went to the school and got the schedule!”

“Fantastic! Did you sign up for courses?”

“Yes. There is only one painting class, on Mondays, and I have signed up.”

“Wow, that’s terrific! When I return next year, I would love  if you would give me one of your first drawings or paintings.”

Mirasol smiled broadly and shook my hand firmly: “I promise, Aysha, and I will write a dedication on it too.”

It will be among my most cherished possessions.

Making Do in San Miguel de Allende

Juan Antonio walks four hours from his home in the "campo" (countryside) with his burro to sell burlap sacks of potting soil. In a gentle voice, without any self-pity, he tells me (in Spanish), "There is no money in the campo. The economic crisis has hit everyone very hard."

One of the many wonderful and endearing aspects of life in San Miguel de Allende is the constant interaction with vendors.

They arrive at our door and ring the bell, punctuating the day with offers of tortillas, gorditas, tamales, flowers, nopales, soil; deliveries of bottled water and bottled gas. Then there’s the hombre whose knife and scissor sharpening service is heralded by a long, low whistle, the corn man whose presence is made known with an indecipherable bellowing chant, and the franchise ice cream woman whose costume matches her rolling cart.

They bring what ever goods they have made, gathered or found to sell, and courageously and unabashedly ask if you want some.

The Ice Cream Lady scurries by in the heat of the day.
Pepe and Lupe sell tortillas and roasted seeds on our street. It's impossible to know their story, as they are too shy, or scared, to tell it. But, one thing is certain: life is not easy for them, and many other children vendors on the streets of San Miguel.

Pilgrims

Pilgrims line up for breakfast in the campo outside San Miguel de Allende on the first day of their 9-day Caminito de San Juan de Los Lagos

The pilgrims who began their 9-day walk, or Caminito, to San Juan de Los Lagos, should be arriving today, to receive the blessing and miracles of Our Lady of San Juan de Los Lagos.

Nine days ago, in the pre-dawn darkness, in front of Harry’s Bar in el Centro de San Miguel de Allende, a few hundred San Miguelitos, like myself, gathered to join them on the first leg of this centuries-old journey.

While the pilgrims come from all over Mexico to participate in what is considered among the most significant and grueling pilgrimages, leading to the miraculous image of Our Lady of San Juan de Los Lagos, us locals were raising funds for the Domestic Violence Prevention program at C.A.S.A., a organization serving poor adolescents and rural women and their families since 1981.

Trish Mar, San Miguel Walk Coordinator
The annual San Miguel Walk raises funds to end domestic violence. Shown is a banner of Our Lady of San Juan de Los Lagos, known for miracles helping women and children.

Domestic violence crosses all cultural and socio-economic boundaries; it is reported in 60% of Mexican households. C.A.S.A., housed at a beautiful facility west of centro, provides education and training, focusing on early intervention and building knowledge and skills so individuals are better prepared to manage their own lives. Additionally, the organization offers a community center for young people, maternity hospital and family health clinic (free HIV testing, pap smears, birth control, etc.), Mexico’s only government accredited school of midwifery, child development center, library, counseling, anti-violence program and a number of outreach, advocacy and school-based programs. Indeed, a worthy organization to support!

Young people support C.A.S.A. and Mariposas San Miguel with their butterfly wings and a banner proclaiming: "No More Beating""

Also participating in the 8th Annual San Miguel Walk were supporters of Mariposas San Miguel, the slogan of which is: imagine a world without violence. Former Santa Fean and well-known artist, Lena Batula, founded Mariposas and is devoted to empowering indigenous women, from rural areas in the region, to produce colorful and functional hand-crafted products, thereby taking charge of their lives and supporting their families.  If you’re looking for a beautiful, unique gift for your self or a friend, you’ll find it at Mariposas online store and support the vitality and independence of these talented women.

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As I was standing in the field, snapping photos, a slight and seemingly shy young man of maybe 20, approached and asked in Spanish if I were a “peregrino,” a pilgrim. “No, I am sorry but I am only here to see the beginning.” “Too bad,” he replied. “Have you walked this before?” I asked. “Oh yes, many times. This will be my fifth.” “Are you walking alone?”  “No, I’m with my parents,” he said, pointing to an elderly couple walking slowly arm and arm across the grass, his father using a cane. “They have done it 12 times.” “How can you take off for nine days and walk?” “How could we not? It is our faith.”

San Miguel walkers, against domestic violence and for C.A.S.A., cross a make shift bridge to join the Pilgrims
The sun rose as we walked through the dusty outskirts of San Miguel and into the countryside. While the Pilgrims continued on their journey of faith, we returned to C.A.S.A. in the hope that our small effort will make a difference in the lives of women and children served by this exceptional organization.

New Years Benediction – Surprise Yourself!

Benediction for the New Year: Surprise Yourself!

May your coming year be filled with magic and dreams and good madness. I hope you read some fine books and kiss someone who thinks you’re wonderful, and don’t forget to make some art — write or draw or build or sing or live as only you can. And I hope, somewhere in the next year, you surprise yourself. – Neil Gaiman

I’m wondering: How might I surprise myself? How might you?
What, at the end of this year, might you be delighted you did differently, better, more lovingly and successfully, with good madness?

What would surprise and delight you?

As you move through this year, perhaps take note of ways you surprise your self. It would be fun to hear of them in a year from now!