Last year, when the Hive was booted out of the Art Center, I moved the play toys to what later became Las Raices and then spent two and a half weeks recuperating at a friend's sweet Carlsbad pad. While there, I read Vladimir Megre's book, Anastasia, which I had seen amongst SA's things when she first moved in to the Hive. "You should read this, Cara," SA had said. So, upon seeing the book again - on N's shelf - I decided then was the time.
I wept my eyes out upon reading Megre's non-fictional tale of magical realism because I felt vindicated. "See, I am not crazy," was what I told myself. Nonetheless, I am not an Anastasia making do while living wild and free in the Siberian Tiaga. Rather, I am an Anastasia born and raised to live in a western city center, where the harsh reality of the material world must be contended with.
In early-December, when our plans to rent a half-acre in Golden Hill fell through, I challenged myself to not jump into erecting plans. I especially did not want to act from a place of 'scarcity mentality' or fear. "Trust," is what I kept telling myself. Yes, it's true - I always have my parent's home to fall back upon. However, I am not looking to fall back. I want to keep moving forward.
So, on New Year's Day, after I had spent an amazing late night and early morning up in the high desert with my girlfriends, I ended up at the same place and event where I met N. last year. This time though, I ended up on the lap of someone whom I had been getting to know more as a friend and a brother over the course of the past month. "Come stay with me," he offered, as I sweetly nuzzled into him. "Okay," I quickly chirped, from a place of abundance and safety.
Yes, I am grateful to trust the Universe and that it has my back - by meeting my needs as they arise. There is no need to live in another moment - to plan ahead into a fictional future where reality doesn't exist. Beeing here now, however, obviously goes against the grain of everything we've been taught as westerners. "Slave now and bee rewarded in the future," is how the mantra goes. Even worse are the ideas of finding your pie in the sky when you die. "No thanks! I just want to bee exactly where I am, because heaven on Earth is here, now," is always my response.
So, in my gratitude for our planet and the cosmos, I also want to type my gratitude for my friends. It's so easy to judge others, as well as ourselves, and to think that because we don't speak the exact same language - like music, or Landmark, or English, or whatever! - that we are somehow incompatible. Yet, what the last few days have taught me is that it's all simply about the water that flows under the bridge between us - CONNECTION IS LOVE.
On Tuesday night, I invited a friend to perform Acro-Yoga with me at a bar downtown. I asked Lou last minute and he drove down from Orange County, trusting that a less-than-an-hour rehearsal ahead of time would be sufficient. While at Bar Basic, I felt enveloped by the support of friends whom I have spent the past two years cultivating connections with. From Johnny carrying the heavy sound system in just so I could share a spoken word piece to Ben downloading a pop tune on his computer for me to move to to DJ offering me material support. I am grateful beeyond words for their friendship.
Nervous about putting my solo dancing self out into space, I immediately dropped in to the performer in me who relishes commanding an audience. The next day, however, I felt like I had been hit by a ton of bricks - the beers on top of the hard-core Acro workout was too much for this "old lady." It took me a whole day to recover during which Richie tended to me like a Queen. Wow! Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you. I bow down in deep gratitude.
