I'm back.
After a phenomenal weekend spent living my dreams,
I returned to San Diego County feeling a bit lost.
As one of my sweet sisters affirmed when I shared with her my tale
that unfolded over the duration of this past weekend, "Of course, you did! What a loss."
I also spent this past week mainly camped out at my parent's home
as I had a number of odd jobs that kept me in North County.
Today, I finally returned to my downtown home,
Las Raices Collectiva, and my soul is once again singing.
We've spent the evening as women chatting, preparing food and cooking in the
kitchen. And, I have to admit that I am a bit shocked at how easy it is for me to fall
into feeling that "normal" looks like a lot of television and a little human connection.
Either way, I am grateful for it all.
My heart is full. Yes, it's absolute grief to experience the lack of vitality that exists within
my parent's house. Yesterday, I felt near to my breaking point and I'm doing my best to remember my wise sisters advice. "Feel it, Cara," they advise. "How deep can you allow yourself to experience
what you are feeling?" A full breakdown hasn't yet visited me and I look forward to the day when I do submit and surrender to my own repressed e-motion. It's been too long in the coming.
And, yet, my parents are who they are. I love them dearly and only have so
much time with them left. Best I can do is celebrate that I have had the wherewithal and the intelligence to create the vibrancy and the support I need for myself elsewhere.
It has been a week since I spent good time in my lovely collective. Tonight, we gathered in the kitchen discussing roles and responsibilities and how we each collectively care for our home as well as each other. It's a conversation that we will have to continually revisit. As a group, we came to a boiling point when the discomfort that can surround money was brought up and we navigated
this messy terrain with respect and concern for each other and our well-being.
I shared with my housemates that I'd bee willing to contribute more and that I often need a swift kick in the butt to get me out into the garden or to have me facilitate more healing circles. "I like bee-ing pressed," I shared with the assembled group of four other women and one man. "And, I need your help to co-create more healing in our home." After thirty-five years, I just may be learning how to finally ask.
So, we're splitting up now with a group of us headed west to Ocean Beach to dance to the hip-shaking rhythms of my friends, Todo Mundo. It's been way too long since I have seen my sweet counterpart take to the stage. Then, we'll meet back together as a group at a hipster hangout in South Park, known as the Whistlestop. Abundance is simple ~ it's found in our bee-ing together. Cooking, talking, sharing, healing, eating, living, loving, dancing, making music, and more! This is what feeds our hearts and souls at the deepest level of our human-animal wanting. There's nothing more.
