Right back Round (One More Time)

Late August marks the start of a new beginning. The last first week of school! For this program, this chapter, this era. Two years ago I moved from a tiny cabin (the breadbox) on the Marin coast. Into this exact room that now fills up with evening light minutes before 7pm. The summer before I moved I played Ariel's banjo in a blissful ignorance. Now I have my own, bequeathed to me just about a year ago by sweet Tom wherever he may be these days. I am stronger because of all of the duets we sang back then. I play Donna's got a rambling mind, learned in the presence and community of the Black banjo Reclamation Project. I'm a fool but most of all I am a sucker for full circle moments. That cascade upwards.

Last year I got a computer that caused a cycle of eternal discomfort. Today I bought a new Mac and feel as if I have a new home base again. Mom said congratulations. I love how much we celebrate. It makes everything grand feel grand, and everything small feel precious and special just because. 

There is some maturity to the end of this summer. Tough choices that have to be made. I have had so many layers of development in the last three months. From the watery skies of April (the cruelest month) to the desperate action of may. The slow surrender and ease of June. The young friendship and giggly love. And the pause for the bod to heal. That propelled me into travel and movement once again.

 We went to the sea while my face still looked like the moon. Beautiful and free.

 
Then right back into garden delight. The daily care and stewardship and grounding that brought me to my body from my mind again and again. Oh sweetness this summer is.

In touch with the flowers, the carrots, the straw hat, the market, the midsummer feasts 

 

(I can bottle up this chapter summer in sunlight if I close my eyes just right.)

August took me to Oaxaca, to swim in warm blue oceans. 

To hike through mountains with a determined mind. Destined for a waterfall, the thunder in the sky and this magical cow forced us to turn around. After a river mango, we were perfectly escorted by a man and his donkey in the light sprinkle of the rain. 

 

Made it to a terracotta nuclear bunker almost empty resort. With a liminal forever coastline beach and lightning in the sky. A perfect pool to float and be castaway.

 

Then to the jungle. Where a rainstorm had the entire world erupting in life, water, and sound. And it was beautifully internal. And then it stopped and we explored, seeing beautiful life and butterflies. And went to a perfect comedor for dinner, full service.

Stayed an extra day because the ports were closed. Ventured out to the incredible Cascadas, waterfalls cascading. River caves. Beautiful mermaid moments. Then went on a boat with Peter to see the dolphins and turtles in love. Snorkeled to see the pretty fishies and the coral reef still alive by the cove adjacent to the y tu mama tambien beach). 

Sickness came after the drive to Oaxaca city. Sensibly. But after a day down we became revived. Just in time to see a wedding in the whole city. In the morning we went to the weaving village. 

 

 

And then the red clay village. But everyone was sleeping. Except one awesome lady!

 

We spent one last beautiful morning at the ruins. And then I had a rocky return back to this country~ was so grateful to return. 

Finished a schoolyard summer just in time to spin right back around on a trip to Tahoe for the Sagehen field course! Where I was a TA! And got to drive a Mom van. And take care of everyone and use Walkie Talkies! And see Haris' property. Meet the rivers the marshes the lands in such a beautiful way. 

And be fed breakfast lunch and dinner in a way that makes my body feel softer now. To learn from those who have done this all their lives. The honor of being trusted to drive with a sleeping professor in your passenger seat. And to have a light crush. To swim in lake Tahoe and be guided back to shore. 

 

To have meadow time, in the blissful summer.

And to make it all home, a safe return to my terra cotta cave. Where I now have a computer that will be my home base as I enter into this school year. It is small and feels right when I type, sturdy and strong as I move my hands across the keys. I will take care I really will this time. 

 

This week starts the last week of grad school. It feels right. I feel so ready to jump back in. To teach. To have monday's off. There has been so much development in this year. In last year. In the year before. I am sturdy in my core. I speak from my stomach. I am okay staying home. I am learning to yearn in a healthy way. I am learning to put my undeniable strength in love into creation.