Steve & Debbie’s Grand Adventure

Everywhere I turn adventure beckons me. This morning (as a writing prompt) Steve randomly opened two magazines and laid a finger down. In the local magazine the finger-point found Total Body Care Spa on Ocampo. I know this place. One of a gazillion body care establishments in Ajijic, or more broadly speaking, “lakeside”, However, it is one of a few that I actually know something about. If you mention it in a room of 10 expats 6 will give you a first-hand account….

Best Spa Ever. 

I haven’t tried it, but maybe I should. 

The second magazine was National Geographic where Choco Canyon laid out its history before us. Amazing. Again, around here it’s easy to book that adventure. And find many people who can share stories and pictures and words of encouragement for making that one of our next adventures. We tend toward random, not booked. 

I’m not much of a group tour person. But there is something wonderful about shared experiences. The sense of community and inter-dependence. When you strike-out into the unknown “together”. 

My absolute favorite adventure is bringing together groups of friends that don’t know each other and watching the exchange of life stories. Listening as the conversations become more lively. This type of “community building “ sets me aglow! In this endeavor I am abundantly blessed. Good people with open hearts are perhaps my greatest natural resource.

We spent this past week with a collection of friends from North Carolina. Some knew each other well. Some, not at all. They were staying in 3 places. It was the week of Fat Tuesday so festivities were evident. Some folks arrived without money. Others without phones. And most without basic Spanish. We were a band of gypsies!  Graced by good fortune at every turn. By the end of the week we had great stories to tell. And some pretty hilarious adventures. 

I love this. For me it’s reminiscent of having young children and getting to see everything through their wonder-filled eyes.. The things we do every day become magical. The bus rides, thermals, restaurants, murals, parades, music and yes, some fireworks! Playing pickleball with other folks from just about everywhere. It’s a big playground!

On the closing night of the Northern Lights Music Festival we were fortunate to have tickets for dinner and music under the stars at Ajijic’s oldest hotel, La Nuevo Posado. Randomly seated at our table were  couples from South Carolina, North Carolina and Toronto. Everyone at the table talked freely with everyone. People even moved from seat-to-seat so they could enjoy one-on-one conversation. Life experience flowed like water. And with what is no surprise to me we found we have much in common. 

Random?  I don’t know. 

Chance? Maybe. 

Whatever it is that happens when Steve opens a magazine or book and picks a page. Or we drive our camper across countries without a map. Or we sit down to dinner with strangers that quickly become friends. I love it!  The crazy adventure called life. 

So what will I do tomorrow? I don’t know. But I think it will be a random encounter with an amazing world. I need to go hug a tree. Or maybe climb it and nap in the branches

And from Steve, Past, Present, Future

Too dry, too cold, too hot; the great sweep of southwest mesas in the 4 corners area, gauged by Canyons seems marginal for human occupation.

The Anastasi were pueblo cliff dwellers and when archaeological‘s and historians make up stories about them, they talk about their architecture, pottery, lifestyle and mysterious disappearance in the 1400s leaving behind beautiful pottery and baskets as if they just went out for a morning stroll. 

What will they write about us in 1000 years? When skyscrapers stand empty and they encounter  junked computers and smart cars. Will our cities be ruins of buildings and empty heaps of concrete broken up with vegetation pouring through the cracks?

Will we be victims of a meteor crash that wipes out human civilization, or maybe an alien culture from somewhere in the universe will be living in our condos.

We are temporary caretakers and inhabitants of the earth. We have survival-wired brains that keep us alive, adapting to the changes in life and imagining that we will never die. Our most popular politicians tell us we can return to the past, all the while our cultural landscape is changing at warp speed

70 years ago in small town North Carolina. I didn’t know there was such a thing as gay people. At  25 I was living in a house with a gay couple and at 65 I was helping to run a camp for teenagers… many who claimed they were androgynous in nature. 

Like the Anastasi, our version of the human tribe may disappear and we will be lthe dinosaurs, 

what is sometimes bizarre for me as I age is the question “what do I do next.”

By 70 my bucket list was magically complete 

relationships ….check 

children …………check 

grandchildren ..check 

great neighbors check 

lots of fun ………check 

I sometimes feel like the musicians where every day is another curtain call and encore.  Or is it more like Bill Murray in Groundhog Day? You Keep living each day until you get it right. 

I read from an Indian guru about letting go of attachment to this life and then I wake up and it’s another day. Debbie sometimes asks what shall we do today, and I think for a moment… and then I say “I don’t know!!!”

The Northern Lights Music Festival features two weeks of incredible and diverse music and dance. We chose ALL JAZZED UP with the Richard Underhill Quartet. Wow!!!! What to love most? The saxophone (Richard Underhill), the drums (Tim Shaw), the guitarist (Reg Schwager), the bass player (Joe Phillips), the featured soloist (Katie George). Not to mention the 2nd session featuring strings and harp. This stuff is just too good to believe. Google these artists. Enjoy

Okay, on Thursday night we went to the Auditorio for the jazz concert. Then on Sunday night we were truly fortunate to attend a house concert. Beautiful. Intimate. First-class musicians. And a sunset view. Oh my!!!

From the sublime to the everyday…Ajijic traffic! Give me a mirador, a soft breeze and a superb margarita. No need to rush.

And from Steve:

TALKING TO THE COSMIC WAITER

The struggle between good and evil goes on in this low vibration culture. Watch the evening news, pick out a television drama, look at the history of genocide in this world.  On a lesser scale on a personal level we struggle as humans with the joy of conscious action and the pain when we fall short. 

In our blog, we  choose to write about gentleness, kindness and contentment in culture.  We have picked two geographical areas where we experience a high degree of that kind of spirit   The prairies and mountains of Canada and a former fishing village on Lake Chapala in Mexico.  The hearty souls that live in the hinterlands of Canada are vibrant resourceful people. 

Besides the great climate in Mexico we experience a gentle cooperative culture which has produced a great expression of art and beauty, and deep family connections… especially with the older ones in the family. 

In order to create a heart of gentleness we need to plant seeds of contentment, warmth and caring. It takes an unwavering commitment to joy and gratitude and peace-fullness.  All my teachers have emphasized how affirmations and thoughts affect our interpretation of reality. Here are a few affirmations I rely on as I grow:

The  older I get the better I feel. I am a beautiful, wonderful man. When I place my order to the cosmic waiter I get exactly what I want or something better.  This world is a world of abundance…… plenty of money,  plenty of love, plenty of nurturing.  I am the perfect partner for Debbie and she is the perfect partner for me.

Affirmations are key for me in order to nourish these seeds of abundance, contentment and joy on a daily basis.

We just returned from a week in Guadalajara. Such an amazing experience. The Guadalajara Country Club has been offering this Sr. Tennis Tournament for 39 years! It is easily the best tournament you can imagine. The club is beautiful. Even has an equestrian center so you can whisper to horses between matches. And several restaurants offering views of the putting green or children riding scooters by the pool. The food is yummy and reasonably priced. They give you lockers and morning fruit and afternoon snacks. Pretty much anything you need they will gladly provide. Also a fun gift… this year a navy vest to wear if you want to look proper. Not our usual hippie style, but I must say I loved the vest on Steve! Nice with his Mexico haircut.

But what really sets this tournament apart is the hospitality. I never feel more welcomed and appreciated. So who are the winners? All of us! Forget the age, language, culture, and status or ability differences. At the end of the week…After sharing time on the courts. On the dance floor. And around the table. I am sure we are all in One Big Circle of Winners. Thank you to my partner, my friends and opponents, and especially to the Guadalajara Country Club.

Well done! See ya next year.

AND FROM STEVE: SOUL TRAIN

I was never one for pictures. I felt a little superstitious. I read once that some indigenous cultures felt  having your picture taken was losing a little bit of your soul. 

Then cell phones happened and pictures of everything were being snapped constantly. So that thought abated when I saw the pleasure that people had taking photos. Still in most photos I am not smiling😊. 

There is something to the idea that we lose parts of our soul along the way in life. Especially growing up, I once paid someone to do a soul retrieval. I was curious what would happen. Soul retrieval is sort of a treasure hunt for the lost parts of your soul. The person hunting is hopefully a bit psychic. I must say that I was more skeptical than curious. 

It’s an imaginary journey into caves and closets and hidden corners in the world to look for lost parts of your soul, 

if I was looking for a lost parts of my soul, I would first look for joy…what stole the idea that I can be joyful in my life. I would look for deep listening… what stole my ability to listen. Well I would definitely look for celebration. How did I learn that celebration was a suspicious activity. And how about sensuality?

I guess if I’m going to do any soul retrieval I think I’ll do it myself. 

I’m going to look in the belly of a dragon for my sense of peace. I’m going to look in a John Travolta 1980s disco for my sense of joy. I bet my ability to listen is hidden in a Buddhist robe and some smokin’ hot sensuality is probably in another pocket of that Buddhist robe as well.

I love my morning this morning. I bathed in love and self-acceptance. I was glad for the day, I let myself be me. And welcomed my truest self to the day.

Let’s start with lyrics from Landon Pigg, and then we’ll wander around a bit. Love In A Coffee Shop:

“I never knew just what it was about this old coffee shop I loved so much. 

All of the while, all of the while

It was you”

Did you ever go to a retreat and the opening “get to know you” activity was this…

“Who would you like to meet in a CoffeeShop and share casual conversation? What questions would you ask? What would you most like to contribute to the conversation?”

Okay, I confess I have been the retreat leader who posed this. So I have the advantage of having a prepared answer. And in the past few days here in Ajijic. I am reminded why I like this exercise. Here we go…

I have a few favorite coffee shops in the world. And one of them is here in Ajijic. Just a few steps from the main Plaza. Cafe Grano isn’t easy to spot. Not showy or trendy in any way. Just one of many mostly open-air gathering spots. Great coffee and therefore, great aromas. I am partial to the latte. And sometimes a postre.

It is here that I have fallen in love in a CoffeeShop. And so this is a place I allow my imagination to bring together a few special souls for a cup and conversation. For company today, I choose Lao Tsu, Ali Maya and David Whyte. Fun, right?

Lao Tsu says, “sorry I am late, but a good traveler is never focused on arrival” “I lost my way for a bit, but here I am, now” “Are the cookies good?”

David Whyte responds, “this is what I love about the conversational nature of life”. “I haven’t had the cookies, but the light in here reminds me that everything…everything is waiting for you”. 

And Ali Maya hums a little chant I can’t resist joining,

“I am forever remembering that everything, everything, is here to teach me how to love”

I order a second round of lattes for everyone. This is going to be a conversation to remember.

It’s Sabado…. Fin de Semana. We must find some Love in a Panaderia

And just to round out the day, Comida Love at Chili Verde

A Happy Ending Facebook post from our friend, Catherine

I have to share this story because it’s so cool and has a happy ending. It involved 8 people – 5 Americans, 2 Mexicans, and one Canadian (me). I actually made notes last night as a way to calm myself down because I ended up wired! It’s a bit long but … a heartwarming read I think.

All of this happened yesterday:

Me, 1:30 pm: I call my good friend Debbie from North Carolina to ask her a few questions about her US cellphone plan. She tells me she is in a noisy restaurant and will call me back when she gets home

 2 pm: Steve, Debbie’s husband, WhatsApps me to say they are on the eastbound bus and will be home in La Villita (just west of the Libramiento) in a few minutes

2:30: Debbie WhatsApps me to say Steve has lost his phone and that she can’t call me right now because she is trying to track it via Find My Phone but is failing to do so

Today she told me that their family shares the same Verizon plan and that Steve had called their most techie daughter for help. However that daughter’s cellphone battery died before she could track Steve’s phone. Steve calls his son but no luck. They call another daughter who is able to track Steve’s phone to Guadalajara.

4 pm: Debbie calls me to confirm this

4:45 pm: Debbie calls back to say a nice Mexican man had called to tell her something (maybe he has Steve’s phone?) but that the man speaks no English and my friends only have limited Spanish. She gets his name – Jorge – and his number and asks me to call Jorge but, although my Spanish is very fluent, I have trouble over the phone especially if there is ambient background noise

4:50: I find my landlady’s wonderful Mexican assistant Rocio and explain the situation to her

4:55: Rocio calls Jorge and confirms he is the bus driver and that he has Steve’s phone. He explains that his shift isn’t over and that he will be driving the slow bus back through Ajijic, arriving at the bus terminal about 7:15-7:30. 

5 pm: I decide to send Rocio a picture of Steve and Debbie which she forwards to Jorge. I get Rocio to ask Jorge to stop at the bus stop near the roundabout (gloriosa) closest to La Villita at about 7:15. I relay this info to Debbie and Steve who agree to camp out at the bus stop from 7 pm onward 

7:15: Debbie and Steve stop a bus going by and ask if the driver is Jorge but, wrong bus

7:20 Jorge calls Rocio saying he is in Riberas and will be  at the gloriosa soon

7:22: Rocio calls me with this info which I relay to Steve and Debbie

7:30: Jorge, Steve, and Debbie meet and this honourable man, Jorge, gives Steve his phone. Steve gives Jorge cookies and a cash reward while Debbie does cartwheels 🤸🏼‍♂️ on the street (in my imagination)

7:35: Debbie WhatsApps me the good news which I pass along to Rocio 

Many thanks to two honest, honourable, and helpful folks, Rocio and Jorge. I am not naive and know this story could easily have had a disappointing ending but, not this time.

From Steve, When I was 14

When I was 14 I was in the beginning of a five-year period when I was very successful in athletics. In wrestling I spent four years on the mats with other wrestlers, eventually becoming one of the top wrestlers in my school. In tennis I was runner up in my first tennis tournament at age 14 in my hometown of Lexington, NC. I won a number of local tournaments and was number one on my high school team. When I was 18 I played in the men’s championship for the town. Beating more experienced and talented older men.

I had one advantage to my credit. I was a human backboard who blooped back shot after shot from my opponent until they finally surrendered and made an error. Playing tennis is difficult. A very bouncy ball hit by a large racket on a big court. So much can go wrong, and for my opponents it did.

With changes in technology and lessons from country club pros my fun came to an end.  Rackets improved and professionally coached country club teens began beating the crap out of me. For someone who grew up hitting against the wall of my house and never having a tennis lesson I was discouraged. Discouraged enough to quit playing for 20 years. 

Years later living in Pittsboro the tennis scene picked up. And  for the next 25 years I could enjoy lots of doubles matches and regain my original love of the sport.

Now life has turned full circle at age 75. Many of those well-coached country club types have burned out knees and shoulders, and maybe some big bellies. I can still run. And my blooping blue collar tennis is working again. The human backboard is frustrating the last man standing as I race around the court flipping balls back to the over 75 crowd. If the backboard isn’t enough I can mystify my opponent with my totally unconventional, underhanded Pickleball serve. I’m back in the highlife again.

And from Debbie, A Small Gesture

We have a funny story from a year ago when Sandy, our Spanish teacher, visited us in the United States. It was a wonderful experience, introducing Sandy to North Carolina, the variety vacationland. She enjoyed time in our casita at Blue Heron Farm, walks along Topsail Beach, and a few days at Sadie’s Place in the mountains. We covered the state pretty well in two weeks. While in West Jefferson we treated her to a cultural experience – breakfast at Bojangles. Like every Bojangles across the south, we found the table of men who gather for morning coffee and story swapping. As we were leaving one of these ballcap and overall-clad gentlemen held the door open for Sandy. She responded with a simple gesture. Raising her left hand, arm bent at the elbow. The man looked totally confused. I giggled and smiled at him. Then said, gracias…thank you. He returned my smile. 

We had a good laugh as I explained to Sandy the significance of a similar gesture. In that NC mountain neck of the woods you just add the right hand to the left elbow and you get “up yours”!

We were telling this story last week while having lunch with Sandy and some of our guests from N.C. Sandy reminded me that this simple gesture is particularly helpful when you can’t be in conversation with others. For instance, when crossing a busy street and a car stops to let you cross. They will never be able to hear you say gracias. But the raised hand says it all. I decided to make the use of this simple gesture part of my daily walkabout practice. And wow! People have really responded with big smiles and waves. So easy.

A few days later I heard from several folks that the stoplights were all out for a couple hours and to their surprise (and delight) the traffic flowed much better than usual. There is an underlying and prevalent sense of respect for others here. Without the stoplights available to control the traffic, the default was just simple respect and taking turns. I can easily imagine how many smiles and small gestures were exchanged.

This is my altar. It’s very simple. A carved wooden car with heart-shaped leaves glued in random places. One leaf seems intentional as it is placed over the heart. It is perfectly located to reflect the candle light. Each morning I light the candle and make offerings for each of our children and grandchildren. It’s a practice I learned from my mom. She did this in bed at night. Often falling asleep since our family was large and continued growing well into her nineties. During each new pregnancy she would pray each night, “give this new baby a sweet spirit”. Me gusta eso. (I like that)

I prefer the morning for this ritual. Both for the gentle light and the opportunity to start each day with blessings and gratitude. I begin with our children, then grandchildren and then our larger extended family and friends near and far. Although I am often in a location far from most of these folks I rarely feel “distanced”. Me gusta eso. 

I create a simple altar wherever I land for more than a few days. Some of them I remember well. But I must say, this is one of my favorites. In the U.S. I am a dog person. In Mexico I am strangely attuned to el gato (the cat). They often wander over to me in restaurants, look at me from their quiet spot beneath a tree, or roll at my feet as I walk the cobblestone streets. Last year I even played matchmaker!  A tiny kitten showed up at our AirB&B. I couldn’t resist. I fed it just enough to survive. Then later a bit more food. Then we had a long talk. I told this adorable kitten we would be leaving and  it was going to have to develop the skills needed to win the heart of our AirB&B host. A person who often commented on the unwelcome intrusion of cats!  It worked. In my humble opinion a mutually beneficial relationship. 

Anyway, el gato y la luz are my morning companions. 

Tambien me gusta eso.

Like Coming Home from Camp

Way back in the 90’s I spent a week each summer on staff at a week-long Sr. High Camp in the N.C. mountains. In the early years I drove a 15-person van from Longwood, Florida to Laurel Springs, N.C.  13 teenagers, 2 adults, and a trailer full of suitcases, guitars and kit-kaboodles…..a small fishing tackle box full of make-up and fragrances. I banned all fragrances from the van’s  interior. On some trips there would be complaints that the perfumes helped cover the body odors of campers averse to showering in the rustic bathrooms. We managed to forget about dirty feet and stinky bodies by singing most of the 12 hour drive. It was wonderful. We were a tight group. 

Campers arrived on Sunday. Spent a crazy-good week together. Then at what seemed “way-too-soon”, climbed back into cars and vans and buses to go back “down the mountain”. We cherished our mountain top experiences. Life for one week seemed magical. Different. The way it should always be, but often wasn’t.

Back home exhausted by life’s fullness I alternated between the need to sleep for days and a desire to stay awake and hold onto the sweet memories. Those were such profound experiences of shared life. Most of us would say you can’t go back. Can’t recreate it. Can’t, as adults,  go to camp!

But Monday morning I had the strange feeling I was back at camp. Time to say good-bye to new friends. What an unexpected joy to find such friends in this stage of life. People you really connect with. People who get you. People you can stay up late with. Share stories. Do silly things… sing and dance and watch the sunset. I am not in North Carolina. But I just had a Mexican, high desert, mountain-top experience.

I am content

I am filled with loving kindness

I am well

I am peaceful

I am grateful. 

And, ESTOY TAN LLENA (I am so full)

And from Steve: The Unexpected

Having guests this week has taken me out of my normal routine into unfamiliar territory. I found myself doing a lot of socializing in a group, drinking a beer, watching sunsets, going to listen to music, singing, dancing, playing pickleball, talking to friends back home; a real social butterfly.

There is another aspect to having guests is the opportunity to get to know each other better. Long talks and stories. 

Life is full of love affairs, and for me this visit included some of the best days of my year. 

My face hurts from smiling. 

My heart is full 

My teams won. 

Debbie was wonderful. 

The food was fantastic.

The stars aligned

The buses came. 

It was a magical ride.

It was fun.

When one is sucked into the vortex of fun, the appropriate response is gratitude and wonder. I look at the old me and say…..what a stick in the mud……and I look at the Me of this week and say ……I am still learning about this life.

Friday was the most amazing day. Steve headed out early to play tennis. The whole morning was mine. Such possibility! We would meet later for lunch. In the meantime I was ready for adventure.

It started with a conversation with Anji, the housekeeper. I had been told she spoke zero english. I was prepared. I had to look up a few words, but was able to fully communicate in Spanish. Don’t get me wrong. I am not fluent, but I am not afraid to sound like a two-year-old. And I am fascinated by the human brain. And the capacity to stretch and change. In the states I lose my grasp of Spanish almost as soon as the plane lands. And somehow, miraculously it returns almost as quickly upon return. After a successful exchange with Anji I bid her adios and hit the cobblestone streets. Ready for a walkabout. I visit fruit stands and thrift stores and bike shops. I greet other explorers. I spend a few hours speaking, and hearing only Spanish. I am giddy with joy. 

Here comes the Not Always What It Seems Part….

This is one of our favorite little lunch spots. Great falafel, yummy salad.

But, que cres! (guess what). It’s not a food truck. It’s a sweet little outdoor restaurant with a tiny kitchen reminiscent of the food truck in the movie Chef. If you haven’t seen Chef, do it! Great movie.

And how about this one…am I looking up or staring down. What ya think?

As I continued wandering around in search of a papaleria (shop with notebooks, pens, etc) a car slows down and deposits, of all people… Steve! Right there on the curb. We laugh at how small the world seems to be. Other cars honk. We wave good-bye. And walk a few more blocks together. Headed for our big event of the day. Lunch with music at Cafe Domenech. Located in the heart of Ajijic at LCS (Lake Chapala Society). There are beautiful gardens with quiet places to sit, an English lending library beyond belief, and helpful volunteers (Steve’s sister is one of them) who provide ex-pats local information, legal guidance, classes ranging from Zumba to bridge, or conversational Spanish to planning your will. It’s kind of an ex-pat oasis! A watering hole of sorts. And just when you think it sounds like a hip Senior Center, you find this Mexican cafe nestled in the foliage. Totally wonderful food. And some of the best jazz around. Day or night.

On this particular Friday there was a Mexican buffet and 3 hours of music dedicated to a local lover of the arts who passed recently. This day is a tribute to the “colonel”. And this colonel had nothing to do with fried chicken. I was in heaven. I mean I sat in this garden of Eden while cats stretched out in the sun. Colorful birds flitted about. A perfectly balanced sound system and a laid-back audience ready to share the feast. Saxophone and drums. Crazy-good guitars. And music that took me everywhere from Rt. 66 to Zaragoza… and everywhere in between. As Van Morrison says “ we sailed into the mystic.”

I am tired now so I will continue this story later. But I leave you with one more not-what-it-seems picture. Look closely and you will find a clue. My next blog will be titled A Blog of His Own.

.

And from Steve

The Tao gives birth to all beings,

nourishes and cultivates them,

cares for them, maintains them,

takes them back to itself.

The Tao creates without possessing,

gives without expectation,

guides without interfering,

fosters growth without ruling.

This is called hidden virtue. Verse 51

What an amazing universe we live in. We are being sustained with food, sunlight, shelter, and an abundance of support from the universe.

A survey of nations found us at the very top of the list of people with a culture of rugged individualism. Getting Americans to agree and live cooperatively is our challenge.

In Mexico people live without a safety net. With no outside social support, families and communities become essential. Necessity breeds cooperativeness, and inter-caring.

Which brings me to a difficult dream that I had last night. I don’t remember the topic, but I awoke to my bedroom with lights on, and Debbie coming up the steps at 3 AM.

She said I was screaming. “I need some help. Somebody help me.”

In an abundant and nurturing universe help is always available. Hello world. Time for me to ask for help. 🌻😎❤️

Ants Marching

I feel like my time in Mexico is always an invitation to take stock. No New Year’s resolutions, but a peaceful encounter with life as it is. A creative examination of what life can become. 

On our second day here we went to the Pickleball courts. To our amazement there were no other players on the courts. Things change and I rather enjoy the puzzle of figuring out why. At any rate, it was actually good for us to have a slow re-entry. The courts are right by the lake. It’s a beautiful place with big sky and lovely light. We practiced hitting balls, and sat, and then practiced some more. I soaked in the sunshine, continuing to urge my winter body to come to life. 

Then I looked down. Ants! Perfect, single file, marching, Carrying blossoms, and sticks to a crack in the court where we’ve been running around moments before. There’s always so much more to life than manages to find its way into my awareness. But there we sat. 

Remembering why we love this slower pace. We simply enjoy being here.  

Classic being instead of doing. Those ants are “doing” though. Wow. They are creating an underground world I can scarcely imagine. I guess we watched for 20 minutes. Steve on his hands and knees. There were those that stuck to marching the straight line, but there were also others who wandered about here and there. All of them eventually found their destination.

As I write this I remember a favorite Dave Matthews Band tune. “Ants Marching” from one of my favorite albums “Under the Table and Dreaming” 

It’s a brilliant song about people who don’t risk. Just march along doing the same things day after day. And sometimes find themselves under the kitchen table dreaming. I am definitely drawn toward dreaming. And I start giggling realizing I’m humming a tune and watching ants. The pelicans float above. I hear the peacocks calling to one another. And I just sit. Content.

And from Steve – Aging

There are lots of books on aging gracefully! What impresses me most is that several hundred years ago there were a lot fewer of us that were aging gracefully. Now there are millions of us who by age would now be considered elders. We are called elderly and they build special buildings to house and feed and exercise and care for us medically. For people that have a lot of medical issues or are lonely. It’s a god-send to have assistance and a smiling face.

A long time ago there was a category called elders. There were much fewer of those in number who made it into elder-hood. Elders were a defined part of a community and they and everyone knew their roles. They were holders of wisdom and compassion. They saw the big picture of life. They had been initiated by life’s trials, and when you counseled with them, they helped take the drama out of life and perhaps added some humor.

 For them life  was metaphorically like being at a movie theater. Once you’ve seen the light streaming from the projector, you begin to see consensus reality more as the light and images streaming from the projector and move on to more important things than the drama around this life. Things of the spirit have a bit more importance.  Words like love and gratitude and serenity hold value. 

When someone cuts me off driving in my car, I think …..they must be having a tough day. When I hear children, screaming and crying, I think ….. I’m glad there’s a mom who can help them see what they need. If I wake up grouchy and moody, I think …..maybe I’ll write a blog🎶🎶🎶

After reading one of these books on aging I have a few thoughts. It’s always good to hear different viewpoints, different voices,and different experiences. Still it is impossible to structure or capture the truth of aging. Every opinion, point of view, spiritual practice or strongly held belief calls on us to hold it for a while, and then let it go. We live in complete creative inner freedom. 

As an idealist I have learned that holding onto truth is a messy business, 

Letting go of truth opens you up to the mystery that this life holds.

“Happiness blooms naturally in the hearts of those who are inwardly free. It flows spontaneously like a mountain spring after April showers,in minds that are content with simple living. – – -Parmahansa Yogananda

Hola Mexico. Estamos de vuelta!

And of course we arrived with a good travel story. December in North Carolina was COLD. I mean really, really cold. Cold enough to freeze our pipes, freeze the well pump, lose power for 22 hours, destroy the washer at our Blue Heron Farmhouse, and, oh yes, destroy the washer at Sadie’s Place ( our mountain cottage). Even the pond froze. But that was beautiful. All of this amidst two weeks of house guests and almost daily family gatherings and festivities. We had seven grandchildren full of energy, art, laughter and general seasonal frolicking. Sweet, sweet times. And thankfully we have a powerful wood stove to keep us warm. Solar lanterns to keep us lit-up. And gas stoves making it possible to prepare sustenance. And everyone stayed calm and kind. More than a few Christmas miracles occurred.

The day before departure held the usual Must-Do List items. Despite finally catching the cold passed around the family during the holidays I was feeling confident in my ability to cross off everything and get a few hours sleep before heading to the airport at 3:00 am ( yes, 3:00 am). Then as one might expect, the glitch happened. I had a flat tire while driving Thrift Store donations to town! Well, well. And hmmmm. As luck would have it Steve was on his way home from a doctors appointment. Driving toward me, just about 10 minutes away. I was in a safe spot so I just waited and re-calculated my Must-Do list. He arrived and between the trunks of our two cars we had everything we needed to change the tire. And two kindly souls stopped to offer help. The positive spin on this story? If we had taken that car to the airport we would have certainly missed our flight!

So by 9:00 pm the list was finished. I crawled into bed and slept like a baby until 2:30. Out the door on time. And an easy though brain-foggy trip to RDU. It seems that’s when my accumulated fatigue decided it could descend. After a month of go-go-go my body and soul just thought it was time to rest. Not yet!!! Somehow in this state of deep tiredness I managed to maneuver our three large check-bags, one carry-on and one backpack thru the check-in kiosk while Steve parked the car where generous friends could retrieve it later in the day. I did all of this but couldn’t figure out how to attach the peel and stick baggage claim tickets. Duh. That’s how Steve found me. Boarding passes in hand but utterly incapable of completing the peel and stick process. Steve tried to help but we realized his brain fog was worse than mine. He stuck it to his sweater. I tried to pull it off and dropped it on the floor…where it stuck. Damn. These things stick to everything but our bags. I hope someone was watching and got a good chuckle to start their day.

We somehow managed to complete the task when I noticed a Mexican family at the next kiosk trying to understand the very southern, English speaking clerk. My English speaking brain was mush. But for one sweet moment my Spanish brain kicked in. Just one word, “alla” (there) and I pointed to the line they needed to join. We know from experience that it takes a village to traverse an international airport.

Our first flight was pleasant. I nodded off a bit. The connecting flight in Dallas wasn’t bad either. Mostly because we had no idea that our flight time had changed and we had a mere 45 minutes to de-board from the back of the plane and switch terminals. Only as we approached our gate did we realize we were the last passengers to board. Whew! Well at least we didn’t have a long layover (grin). Most of the time I like to to travel with present moment awareness. However; this was a true non-awareness blessing. Clueless, we didn’t have to run thru the airport panicking. Just got on the plane and flew away

Our god-daughter picked us up in Guadalajara. She brought apples and water. We tumbled our tired bodies into the car. Sinking into the sunshine and familiars sounds. Arrived.

And from Steve: Melissa: A Love Affair

My story starts at Costco. 

After you shop you can buy really great footling hotdogs and a drink for $1.50. ….delicious. The so-called cafeteria is really a place where people push their carts right next to their table and sit down to have a quick bite. Very informal. I spotted a three part table with a woman sitting on the far right and I sat down on the far left.  Just as I was digging into my delicious foot-long, I heard a voice say …..”how are you doing?”

It felt like a dream, where is that voice coming from? I look to my right and a fortyish black woman well-dressed, was looking straight at me. “Doing pretty good, how are you?”

My first thought… was she hitting on me? I’m 75 years old so that’s an unlikely scenario. I went back to my dog and then she really broke the ice and said, “I always speak to people that sit down at my table.” Hmm Ok she’s not crazy. Just friendly. I remember a time when people were friendly.

 And we were off and running. She shared a little bit about her self and I told her about how I’d come to Costco to get my hearing aids fixed. She told me about her husband who was s total introvert. …before they went into a eating place he would say ……are you gonna talk to strangers again?  And she would say well if they sit down at my table, I’m gonna talk to them. That’s the way I was raised and you better speak to them too. 

    I told her about my wife and how friendly she was and how she was always able to say just the right thing to whoever she was talking to.

I don’t tell this to everybody she said as tears came to her eyes…. I had a stroke last year and lost the use of my left arm. I told her how I fell while rollerblading and lost the use of my left arm.

Sometimes the right person appears at the right and says the right things.  Melissa broke through a wall that I had created. Life can arrange encounters for us. in the last year as I have aged I’ve wondered if I was losing my desire to talk to people ….it just felt harder. I was wondering if I was getting Parkinson’s like my dad. 

Was I becoming a withdrawn person in a shell? As we talked, I realized I have a gift of listening and asking questions and looking at peoples eyes and opening my heart. Often when I do this, I notice that people will tell me very personal  stories. 

Like a 15 minute love affair we say goodbye. I tell her she has the gift of conversation. Oh yes, she says. I’ve been promoted several times because I am able to talk to people. I thank her for reminding me to talk to people again.

One day during our morning meditation Steve read this. “Lose yourself in this love and you will find everything” – Rumi. And Debbie read this “To be lost is to be fully present…a chosen surrender” – Rebecca Solnit

And so…….in July 2022…in a tiny camper going far, far away….We. are about to get lost.  😜

And we hope you will travel along with us (via posts) when you can. We leave North Carolina on July 14th. Headed first to Ithaca, NY for a visit with kids and grandkids. Then skipping up to Toronto for a few days. And then heading west to travel the Trans -Canadian Highway to Vancouver. Then down to Tacoma, Washington to hook-up with kids and grandkids. Followed by a family camping trip near Salem, Oregon for Singing Alive. 

Who knows how or when we will turn around and head for the east coast 🤷‍♀️

We travel with no reservations in our Little Guy, 4×8 Teardrop Camper. It has a double bed, an itty-bitty cooking space, a love for the outdoors and a can-do attitude. We sleep like babies and move along when the spirit moves us. Sure there are some crazy & challenging moments, but having the freedom to travel without schedules and deadlines is a rare opportunity. And Okay, if we sleep a few nights in the Wal-Mart parking lot. Oh Well. The bathrooms are clean 😜

I am looking forward to “seeing the color of there from here” as Rebecca Solnit says. Wherever there and here might be. And capturing thoughts, moments, pictures and inspiration as we travel. We will be creating a bit of a travelogue and look forward to sharing it with you. Hope you enjoy the ride. 

So here we go…

Beauty is sometimes so obvious and surprising it takes your breath away. And sometimes beauty resides quietly in the eye of the beholder. We experienced both on our first day out. We woke up early and drove away by the light of a full moon. The clouds illuminated and mysterious, slowly giving way to golden glow and puffy whites. An absolutely beautiful day for a drive. The traffic was easy as was our conversation. We counted our blessings and named all those people who helped us reach this moment of departure. All of the friends and family who helped finish projects, love our sweet pup BooBoo and laughed, cried and pondered with us. Each one wishing us grand adventure and safe return.

Just 45 minutes from our destination plans changed and we found ourselves scrambling to find a place to stay. Not sure exactly where we’d be headed the next morning. So we just looked for “camping near me” and chose the closest one. Lighthouse Landing, 1.2 miles away. Not much to look at from the road. Not much to look at period. But the host greeted us with enthusiasm and said, “I have the cutest spot for you.” Indeed, we followed the golf cart to a tuck away canopy of green. To either side were ancient rv’s, string lights and questionable yard art. We took in the sights as we walked a short distance to the river. The sun was settling as we returned to our “cute little spot”. Surrounded by trees and birds and wildflowers we received the cool night air and a much needed nights sleep.

And from Steve

Our camper is 4‘ x 8‘ and our car is a 2005 Toyota Corolla.

Imagine a house that is 32 ft.² and only 3 feet high. Everything must have its place. The most important feature of our camper home is the bed. It must be soft enough but not too soft. The covers must be layered so that we can take them off or put them on. Two blankets are at the bottom of our bed which is 4‘ x 6‘. 

The remaining 2 feet are the kitchen. A hatchback exposes our tiny gas burner and sink and countertop. The sink doesn’t work, we never could figure out how to use it.  A gallon water jug is sufficient.

Every morning we go out into our living room, full of trees, grass, and birds singing. If we are lucky the sun might be warming us. Our living room has two camp chairs. Our butts sit only 6 inches off the ground but our seats are beveled up so that our knees and legs are comfortable. The car is our closet. Towels cooler suitcases tool bag snack bag and electronics bag.

On movie night we watch on an iPad hung on a short bungee cord between two cabinet knobs in our bedroom. We can communicate by cell phone all over the world, or at least in the US,Canada and Mexico. Downsizing from our home at 1500 ft.² to 32 ft.² takes a little bit of adjusting. It encourages us to live simply. Our imagination can be large when our living space is small.

DEBBIE

Every table. Heck, almost every seat was taken. The waitresses were cheerful. Conversations were lively. Most sentences ended with “okay” or “and all that”. We ate eggs and toast and drank strong coffee from diner-white cups. I had the feeling that the 50+ people around us were on a first name basis. And they really liked each other. Not a mean word was spoken that I could hear. But that wasn’t the amazing thing. I knew something was different but I couldn’t quite figure it out. Then I reached for my cell phone and felt a little ashamed. Like the life playing-out around me wasn’t enough. Which of course was not true. It was more than enough! What was amazing was that for one hour on a mighty fine Saturday morning, near the Erie Canal, in the middle of who knows where, at the Sunrise Cafe not a single cell phone was seen or heard.

Just not needed. 

And from Steve

Critics

There are 32 quarterbacks in the NFL and there are 32 million Sunday quarterback critic’s including myself. Critics can provide feedback but their main intention is to criticize. When you want to do something not ordinary critics step up. When I first imagined driving cross Canada a friend told me I was thinking of doing that but gas prices may go up to $6 US and even more in Canada. 

What he couldn’t see was that peoples fears might give us access to national parks and campgrounds that ordinarily were too crowded during the summer. 

A gallon of gas in Canada is $5.75. And we are traveling through a mysterious remote lake-filled land where there is often no Internet and a large town might be a 1000 people. Side roads names include the ROAD TO NOWHERE AND THE YELLOW BRICK ROAD. This is our third day crossing the province of Ottawa which is one and a have times as big as Texas.

A gallon of gas in Canada is $5.75. And we are traveling through a mysterious remote lake-filled land where there is often no Internet and a large town might be a 1000 people. Side roads names include the ROAD TO NOWHERE and THE YELLOW BRICK ROAD. This is our third day crossing the province of Ottawa which is one and a have times as big as Texas.

After one night on the road we still had a few days for exploring the area near Buffalo New York before heading to Toronto. We decided to give HipCamp a try. It’s a little like AirB&B, but for camping. We chose The Tortuga so we would be close to the border crossing. 

We were both a little speechless as our host, Thomas gave us the tour. Clearly a do-you-see-what-I-see visionary. There were 2 campsites. If you booked #1 you also got #2. If you booked #2 you also got #1. 

We chose site #2. It had a flat grassy area and a nice fire pit.   There were train tracks to one side and the Erie Canal to the other. We could sit by the Little Guy and watch sailing ships, kayaks, joggers and bikers along the canal. There were no trains at all. 

But in December the Tomtuga becomes a major stop for The Polar Express. Thomas ( a great name for a train enthusiast, right) explained the giant plastic cubes that lit up at night. They are big oil vats that look like huge night-lights until December when igloos and skating penguins take form. There was the Terrible Tomtuga Tree that served as Rudolph’s sleighless zip line flight to the hot chocolate cart. And the future sight of the Snowflake Castle. We stretched our imaginations to visualize what Thomas described. What a treat to hear stories of the railroad, fishermen and the canal locks. Our host was a great storyteller and truly gifted in the art of displaying one mans trash was definitely another’s man’s treasure. Here’s a glimpse of The Tomtuga by day and by night.

And if that wasn’t enough childlike joy for us Thomas told us about a small beach town nearby with an antique carousel, kiddie rides and a super-cute and totally free Magic Show

Summer is so much fun!

People often ask us what we eat when we travel. The easiest answer is “whatever we want.” It seems our tiny space and one burner stove might be limiting. Not at all!

We are stocked with a snack bag in the car. Various nuts, pretzels, chocolates, fruit & veggies, and ginger chews. And a smallish cooler charged by our car battery as we go. I can reach back and grab a green drink or chunk of Gouda, pimento cheese for rice crackers. Basically, a moveable feast.

We don’t eat many “meals”, but enjoy random grazing. We eat well and healthy most of the time so when we find a local restaurant with lots of cars we eat whatever the locals are eating. And totally give ourselves over to greasy fingers or scattered bread crumbs.

Today I want to find smoked fish. I LOVE smoked fish. My mouth starts watering just thinking about those little foil packets at the roadside stand. You can keep your boiled peanuts, thank you very much. But bring on the smoked fish! Maybe we’ll find some today. If not I can be quite content with another tomato and cucumber sandwich. Or oatmeal and fresh berries. Or even a hard boiled egg from that chicken we met a few miles back

This morning we read that being creative is the ability to apply our most unique self to whatever we do. Hmmm, a nice thought to ponder. So when I cook in our campsite it is joyfully creative. And when I eat locally it is an adventure. And when I reach into the back seat to grab an apple to munch while wondering how many shades of blue can be found in the sky stretching out before me, I am not just feeding my body. I am re-fueling my soul.

And from Steve.

Live Bait..a Canadian Horror story

Debbie half squatted in the cow pasture at twilight when instantly she was swarmed by mosquitoes. she flapped her skirt wildly. yet still managed to stay squatted. 

As she told me later“ I finished my business with great composure.”

When Debbie finished ,she shouted, QUICK we have to get in the camper and she jumped in. Trying to hurry I managed to jump in on top of her and she screamed in pain. 

To our chagrin we realized that the swarm of mosquitoes had joined us in the camper. They were everywhere ….our clothing our hands our faces.

This was a dinner party for 50 and we were dinner. Thirty minutes later the walls and sheets and pillows of our tiny abode were spotted with blood. THIS WAS JUST THE BEGINNING. As we laid there unable to sleep we pondered. Where did we go wrong. Our first HipCamp. The price was right. The amenities fit our needs. As we drove in the gate the rusted out farm equipment and broken down cars could have been a clue. The fire pit flattened by a mower could have been a clue. The 5 minute bumpy drive through a cow pasture to ”the site” should have been a clue. “Don’t mind the coyotes” she said “they’re just happy they caught a rabbit. And we just have one bear who comes by on Wednesday afternoons”. And her final words, “I’ll bring you a poop bucket after dinner. And oh yeah, the mosquitoes are brutal after 9:00 pm….Ask us about our visit to THE FARM WITH EVERYTHING.

We have not been eaten by mosquitoes, black flies, bears or chipmunks!  We are fine. 

For those of you sweet souls who fear we are not prepared for the seasonal pests, fear not. We were aware and prepared. We have Herbal Armour spray, and candles, and sticks. And long sleeve/long pants, mesh head gear and timers set for dusk and dawn.  We knew what to expect. And we continue to encounter the nasty buggers, but they are manageable, for sure. 

The horror story Steve wrote about was an EXCEPTIONAL experience. TRULY EXCEPTIONAL!  It was a cow pasture which defies description. A hilarious story which should only be told in its fullness around a campfire with a stiff drink and lots of time for laughter. Please ask us to tell this story. I am sure it will get better each time we tell it. 

Now, the question of where we are….

On a Wisdom Teachings Hike in Pukaskwa National Park

Swimming in the pools of Rainbow Falls Provincial Park

Meeting fellow travelers in Dryden’s Wal-Mart parking lot before a great nights sleep

Followed by an early morning plunge into our own private lake in Kenora…Hoopla Island

And tonight we are sleeping well in our first AirB&B, just past the center of Canada.

Hello Manitoba and good night friends 💤💤💤