I've been tickled pink by the appearance of a new, lovely other in my life. She actively discovered her gift for drumming on an evening when she showed up inside of the Hive's comforting, yellow walls. On this night, she walked in to discover a small group of us playing underneath a 100' long piece of white, sheath fabric. I recall her entrance and how she first appeared quiet and reserved. It took her a few, long moments to sink into the "Honey" (as she likes to call it) before she emerged as "RadSab" and we've been enjoying sacred moments in time together ever since.
She refers to the Hive as my "Dojo" and actively inquires as to why I am the way I am. "Well, I guess it all began with my birth in Canada," is how I respond. "Born into a small community, we closed off the one entrance and exit into our circular neighborhood every summer when we would create our own Olympic games." Community is what I've always known, hence it is a value of prime importance in my life. When my family made the proverbial cross-country road trip and migrated to So Cal, we naturally recreated what had been our "normal."
Our neighbors in Oceanside/Vista, became our tribe and I am so grateful for it. Canada may have introduced us/me to community however, San Diego enlivened this notion with the exotic scents and the pageantry of colors that my new neighbors represented. From Palestine to Mexico, I enjoyed the taste of fresh-baked pita bread from my neighbors next door as well as the smells of traditional plates from Jalisco that wafted throughout the house across the street. In this BodyMind of mine, TRIBE must reflect the diverse cornucopia of people that America so boldly represents.
So, yesterday, I attended the mass and memorial of the Sicilian father who had kept a tight ship in that house across the street. It had been way too long since I had visited with his two children, both of who, of course, have families of their own. And, all I could feel when I looked upon their beautiful children was US in the early 80s and how familia is what makes life worth living. Also, our very real mortality is just the perspective check that I have been needing. With my head a little too far up my butt of late, I appreciated the opportunity to remember who I am at my core.
During this holiday season, I will make it a point to reach out to my elders - from my neighbors who still live next door to my parents, in the house I grew up in, to the seniors at Cathedral Arms in Hillcrest. Yesterday was a sweet reminder that the only thing we really have is "time" - as in this moment, now. Postponing living until tomorrow isn't a wise investment because the day after just might not come. And I, personally, have got a whole lotta LOVE to give - so I reckon I'll commence now.
I LOVE YOU.
