Back in the Saddle

The Update

I last left you in Oaxaca… maybe wondering if I had gotten picked up by the Federali and thrown in a Mexican prison for my outlaw behavior. Sadly, the story is not quite that dramatic. I didn’t get lost, I got found… and it wasn’t by a Mexican Federali it was by John Harris, purveyor of truth, kindness, and show-up behavior. The man is a fucking saint. And devil. All in one big headed package.

Rather than bore you with all the details of the last year and a half, we can jump to the present and leave the past open for your interpretation and imagination. I just moved into the house-with-no-name in Santa Barbara, California. Marisol is taking a sabbatical. Yola is the Warrior Princess, my forever guardian. And John is John – roommate, Consigliere, brother, sister, father, mother, friend, teacher, student, practice partner and co-conspirator of spreading Good Love. Together, we share a remarkable life where the food is plentiful, the hours in the day are flexible, and the community is growing. I don’t know where this is leading or how I got here exactly, but nothing about it feels wrong. On the contrary – it’s a fucking miracle.

Life Lesson 'a la Oaxaca'

Smaller is really better. Less is really more… aka SIMPLICITY.

Time here has been spent not only getting acquainted with this beautiful, historical city filled with Mexican Flava, but also with la Casa Marisol. Prior to Oaxaca, our relationship lay within the boundries of fun transportation ... with an occasional sleepover. I had duped myself into believing that real living consisted of a foundation, 4 walls (Casa Majahua being the exception… wall-less is the way to go for beach living if you can pull it off like my MAPS), and some kind of roof. The bigger, the better… space to stretch and lay out all my pretty, pretty stuff. Long term living in Casa Marisol?!? Que? Imposible!

Turns out… Joke was on me.

I was the laughing stock of the (trailer) 'trash’ when I pulled into OTP (Oaxaca Trailer Park) with boxes, tires, massage table, and gigantic ice chest piled in the middle of my van. The only way I could sleep inside was to pull everything out each night. Efficiency at it's best!!!! As I look around at the organized set ups theses people had, I knew I had it all wrong...

and Two weeks later….

I live in a real Casa Marisol, with an abundance of living space, fancy new plaid walls, a comfy, almost queen sized bed, custom mosquito screens and plenty of room to move about my humble abode without falling over a pile of boxes on my front doorstep! Un Milagro! …

And what have we learned… that, yes, smaller really is better and less really is more. I have everything I need right here and right now (which does not include an oil lamp from the 1800s) in my small 10x10 space (minus my luxury, space taking items that consist of Trader Joe‘s foods and books.. but even with all that, I have plenty of space thanks to my savvy ‘Noah’ and plagiarized tricks from The Ark) and I am happier than I have ever been living in all the spaces I have lived in over the years. No big trips to the supermarket, no splurging of fancy home décor (despite the abundance of amazing Mexican art in Oaxaca), no excess. Simple… and the beachfront view, ain’t nothing to complain about…. God Bless the VW Westfalia.

(pre Remodel... notice pile of "stuff")

"...and The Wheels on the Bus Go Round and Round..."

Closing the chapter in Troncones and on to the next adventure... Finished off wih a proper send of from the Troncones famlia...Surfing Saladita, Thanksgiving Tamales/Pozole, Sipping exquisite Tequila while munching on Pumpkin Pie orgasmo Present Moment, and late night dancing at la Casa de Mitch... not a bad way to say adios... making it even harder to pull myself away... detach, detach, detach... Whats the point of clinging in a forever changing world?

I can't ignore the call South... or the compass reminder sitting on my dashboard alter. It's time... but not without a few challenges in the mix... Bliss and ease can't be every single moment... Wouldn't know bliss, if I didn't know shit. The lesson is to remain in a place of heart and find love in even the shittiest of situations... Which doesn't come easy when my first reaction to hitting a wall is to want to curl into a little sad ball of depression and try to cry... I accept that place of sadness and realize it's ok to feel that emotion without attachment... detach, detach, detach... It's all part of the game right? Shit and Bliss are really one in the same... One couldn't exist without the other... The beauty of polarity...

Currently, the shit is coming from the Mexican government.. one of my least favorite groups to deal with... Everything is hazy and questionable in Mexican law... Despite my numerous efforts to find the LOVE government official to support me in my endeavors of adopting Marisol as an official Mexican, I just can't seem to locate "the one." Shouldn't it just be an automatic thing? Me Mexican = Marisol Mexican? Not according to "them." They say she is too old and will not welcome her as a permanent Mexican.. only a 6 month visitor... And the only way the wheels on the bus (can) go round and round is if we go all the way back to "Go" (aka Nogales, Arizona) and start over with a new 6 month permit! I keep telling "them" that Marisol is a Mexican. What kind of Gringa name is Marisol? Can "they" not hear the find Mexican Diesel hum coming from her engine? What about the black smoke shooting out of her back end? If thats not a Mexican bus, I don't know what is... But at this point, I can't seem to convince them otherwise. The rules are the rules.. depending on who you ask and when... but for now, the consensus is NO! I refuse to bow down and call it quits... the stubborn in me says never take NO for an answer... Solution: Run to the hills of Oaxaca and hide like a true Guerrilla. Illegals on the run from La Migra... What a chapter in our adventures South! Wish us luck, mis amigos...


To be continued...

Foreign Exchange Student

Ten years ago, while living in Mexico as a college student, I decided to return to my old homeland for six months as a foreign exchange student... I had a round trip ticket, where the return was no longer California, but instead Mexico... I was a foreigner indeed... A whole lot has happened in the last ten years, including several changes of residences up and down the North American continent, but here I find myself reliving a similar situation...returning as a foreigner from Mexico to a place I once called my California home... This time, a foreign exchange student of life enrolled in the graduate program of LOVE.

This particular exchange program only lasted two weeks, just enough time to visit the beloved parents and friends, attend a childhood friend's wedding, and, of course, vote for the next president of the United States of America! Initially, I had my reservations about going back... I love my simple life in Mexico. How would I feel coming back as a foreigner in my old town? Would I get sucked back into the old complex way of life? Could I be my now simplified self and still feel at ease among the crowd? What sort of impact would these two weeks abroad have on my studies of Love(me)?

Now, with the course completed and on the plane ride home, these are my conclusions from my studies abroad...

Lesson 1
Life is in a constant state of change (even in the bubble of Santa Barbara...although less noticeable than other locations). All is consistently changing and evolving for the greater good of life... even if we don't always initially see the good in certain changes. The variety is beautiful and is what keeps things from becoming stale. It is when we resist the change and try to hang onto a past moment that we begin to feel frustrated. "Hay que fluir!" como dice mi querida amiga, Belen... But there is ONE constant amongst the ever moving flow - LOVE. And no matter how much change occurs, LOVE is the glue that keeps it all together. Six months has gone by since I was last with my parents and California friends, but being with them again was like no time had passed because of the LOVE that keeps us bonded. LOVE is of the heart and eternal, while, time and space are boxed in and limited creations strictly of the mind. Relationships bonded by LOVE are eternal and no amount of time and space change can break the bond. I am free to be my foreign self, always knowing that LOVE sticks and change takes care of the rest.

Lesson 2
Speaking of change, during my stay, I lived through (and safely observed) the fires that swept through the hillsides of Montecito. Most would say that it was a natural disaster, but my experience as an observer, prefers a more positive term for the event... a cleansing. I fully understand the devastation and grief that comes with this sort of cleansing, but also recognize it's polar opposite... knowing and accepting that one could not exist without the other and to appreciate both sides. I saw the fire first hand destroy my sweet Shanni's house, something her family (The Harts) had put their heart and soul into building. It was HARTbreaking to see their tears and feel their yearning to go home... a place that no longer existed outside of their memories. But in that deep moment of sorrow, came a huge burst of JOY from an Angel (in the) Skye. My best buddy Skye, gave her heart (and thousands of dollars worth of her favorite clothes) to our sad friend who was feeling incredibly blue and depressed about her loss. The happiness it gave Skye to share her material wealth with Shanni and her family far surpassed any momentary high she had experienced acquiring any of these "things." It's hard to find purpose in clutter after that experience... other than release and detachment... That's when you realize what has been underneath all along... LOVE is forever there, but sometimes goes unnoticed when buried by distractions of stature, wealth, image...

It was amazing to live this Pure space of giving and receiving. Absolute Oneness. Shanni may have received "tangible" gifts from Skye (that will definitely fill the void and then some in her closet) of material wealth...but the clothes were really just a symbol of the exchange taking place. More than "tangible" items, it was LOVE being exchanged... Priceless. No words can describe that LOVE and i was truly honored to be present in such heartfelt moment...

So many of us choose to define ourselves by these symbols, just cluttering our field with distraction from who we really are... LOVE. The material clutter brings sporadic moments of happniess, where LOVE invites a lifetime of JOY. Which one do you choose?



photo credit goes to PureSkye Images... website soon to follow...

PILgRimage to Zaragoza

For many years, I have had the curiosity to explore the town of Zaragoza(SPAIN) during their big holiday known as las Fiestas del Pilar. And birthday number 30 gave me just the incentive I needed to get over there and check this place out... here is what I have to share...

The name Pilar originates in Zaragoza from the way back when. Mary, la mama de Jesus(not my mechanic, but the original), while still alive and living in Jerusalem, appears to Saint James the Apostle on a pillar. Her message, although I didn't get it directly from our man James, went something like this..."build a church in my name. be it the first "Mary-iane" (mother) church. here is a pillar to get you started."
And fast forward to present day and Z-town did indeed follow through with building the Church of Mary, La Basilica de Nuestra Sra. Pilar. (because Mary appeared on the mighty pillar, they gave her the nickname Pilar... just one L!) It is a beautiful baroque-style cathedral, and present in the Chapel of Pilar, is the exact pillar she appeared on! Imagine that? And they say, a site of many miracles...

After hearing this great story of my name and knowing how much it meant to the people of Zaragoza, I wanted to experience the fiestas for myself, and this year it happened to coincide with my 30th birthday... I set out on my journey "abroad" alone, leaving behind my new/old homeland of Mexico, continuing with the no-plan-plan way of travel.

I forgot that Europe is all about walking and came totally unprepared with no shoes fit for the miles and miles and miles and miles I was about to walk. Duh! A pilgrimage with no walking shoes? What was I thinking? Just within the first hour(still in Mexico City airport) of wearing shoes(remember it's been 6 months of bare feet and flip flops), I had blisters on both feet. Shit. First day in Zaragoza, and I figure flip flips at least would give my blisters time/space to heal, but are Havianas really made for long distance walks?

First thing I do when I arrive is head straight to the Plaza de Nuestra Sra. Pilar and the famous cathedral to see what this place is all about(and to see if anyone is home...Pilar, mi tocaya). Along the way, I can see them gearing up for the prime weekend of fiesta-ing. This is "THE PARTY" of the year in Zaragoza and they spare no expense at going all out... PILAR everywhere. Seeing it and hearing my name all over the streets is a strange thing considering my background where almost no one is familiar with my name, let alone the pronunciation of it. Probably half of the women in Zaragoza are named Pilar... and especially anyone born on the 12th of October. For me, it was pure coincidence. The name was decided prior and i just happened to be born on the day of Pilar. strange? coincidence? I say no.
I arrive at the Plaza with really only wanting to sit in the church and meditate, but first things first, a bocadillo(spaniard sandwich) to get things started. Only one problem here...the Spaniards and their damn customer service. So fucking rude. At first, I take an offense to this. How could me, being nice, provoke assholeism? Later on I learn, the ruder you are, the better service you get... but that's just not my style, so I settle with not taking it personally and trying my best to have compassion for the unhappy souls in service... (and saying fuck it to tipping, just like the rest of Europe... also not my style... But "when in Rome"...or Zaragoza...)

I was overcome with something that you might call sacredness as I walked in the doors of the Cathedral. The choir of angels did not start singing in my ears, but something like that... All I could do was sit in awe of the miracle of being present in this 'holy' site... a birthplace of La Pilar. I felt honored. Privileged. Grateful. It was something to meditate on and keep me coming back everyday. Outside the church, I didn't really know what to do other than walk and watch. Im in total solitude mode, anti-tourist mode, and non-spender mode. So I'm left walking, exploring, and eating of course... Jamon! Croissants!! Queso! Tapas! The more time out of my closet-space-of-a-sad-room, the better... But damn do my feet ache...

On the eve of my actual birthday, an old friend from Mexico, living in Madrid, arrived to help me celebrate. Inside, I had my doubts about his visit, and not because I don't love him as a friend, but because it feels like a solo trip and re-living another birthday in a bar just doesn't appeal to me this time around. No gracias. But.. I did tell him I was going to be there, so I guess some part of me wanted birthday company. Upon arrival, he immediately wants to start the celebration off with drinks. Rats!... Here's the recap of his visit: wine, wine, tapas, wine, wine?, break, bottle of wine/nap, dinner + bottle of wine, drunk, cocktail, cocktail, shot of nastiness invited by bartender, shot of cheap tequila, wasted, dancing, bed, hangover, booze blues. All in all, the complete opposite of what I consciously wanted to do.... Ahhh...Pilar. Again? Por que? No mistakes. Just opportunities to learn. Maybe I got it this time.

The day of Pilar, hung over and depressed. The gloomy skies and rain don't help. It is also the culmination of the festivities with the procession of flowers. Many, many, many Zaragozians and countrymen from across the state of Aragon come dressed in traditional attire to honor the Virgin with an offering of flowers. This is an all day event. One continuous flow of people, waiting their turn, to set out on the walk to la Plaza del Pilar, to lay their flowers at the base of the Pillar. Honestly, it was depressing. It felt more like a funeral procession than a celebration in her honor. That, combined with my hangover and the regrets from the previous evening and the sad, sad music being blasted over the PA made me want to cry. And I think la Virgin got the same feeling... were those tear drops or rain drops? It made me wonder about the meaning of "las fiestas" and the devotees have for their local Mother Mary. It seemed to me the message that Mother Mary stood for and was trying to relay to the people was a message of Love, Love, Love... I fear that perhaps, the original message, might have been lost in translation... like mother, like son? Where was this great love on the day of the 12th of October in Zaragoza? Love was replaced with idolatry, a shrine to her memory, but nothing of her message seemed to be present.
This is the message I got: Pilar does not reside in the city walls of Zaragoza, nor in the beautiful cathedral built in her honor. Pilar resides in heart. Pure love. That I am. Always. Everywhere. It may have been a long way to travel for such a simple message (and one that I probably have heard before in other ways), but I think it was worth it, no?

And to wrap things up.. my last day in Spain... finishing things off in Barcelona, lunching on Jamon(ham...yummm)Serrano, cheese, and bread(my dad's favorite kind of lunch... yes, i am daddy's little girl), I am ready to go "home." Europe is nice, but not my style(especially fashion wise these days... 80's gypsy hippies.. with bodysuits. really? im shocked that those are back in style. shocked). I miss my warm, friendly Mexico and Mexicans. I miss Yola. I miss the ocean. And i miss salsa! I came. I saw. I went. But this time, I don't know if and when I will be back. To me, Europe lacks "vida" (life). It's got all these "pretty" walls, monuments and streets, but feels completely empty to me... AND it really pisses me off that I can't get anyone to serve me some Paella, damnit. They all say, minimum 2 people. WTF? It's me versus the Spanish and the Spanish win. Fuck'em. Im going for Indian tonight. Peace out.

Circle of Your Friends

"Circle of Your Friends" ... Listening to my new favorites, Iron and Wine, I am inspired to write down some thoughts that have been circling my own head regarding friendships.

I have been so fortunate for great friendships throughout my lifetime. They are people that come into my life at just the right moment - for support, for teachings, for laughter, for a little push in one direction ar another, for giving and sharing - and as the scenery changes, so do the friends... or better said, the circle continues to grow with each location. These travels add to the expansion of this great circle, but as with everything else, the flow is constant, and I have found that the more you try to hold onto something and make it permanent, the more you will find yourself struggling and frustrated. It´s like going upstream... you maybe can get away with it for awhile, but eventually you wear yourself out because you are going against the current of life, versus with it. Leaving a "home" (on more than one occasion) brought this to light... and it was brought up again through my travels... At first, I wanted to cling to these friendships and was allowing myself to feel "hurt" when it didn´t work the same as if i "had" them present in my daily life... but as i "let them go" (not in the snseof letting go of the friendship, bust just allowing for flow and being grateful for what their PRESENce brought to my life), knowing that i have everything i need at this moment and always, i created space for the expansion of the circle. People come and go in perfect syncronicity, and staying in the present, not anchored to the past or hopeful for the future, allows you to see those beautiful souls (reflections) that cross your path...and the network continues to grow...

which brings me to the opposite end of the spectrum (not forgetting that they are one in the same, just different expressions)... the best of all friendships...the center of ALL friendships... the one with SELF...finding comfort in the "interior."

from Osho
"Remember, when you are alone, you are not alone; you are lonely. You miss the company of the other. You miss the company of the other because you have not yet learned to be in your own company. You miss the company of the other because you don´t know how to be with yourself. Loneliness is negative, the absence of the other. Aloneness is POSITIVE, the presence of your own being. Loneliness is solitariness. Aloneness is Solitude. (*Remember "the wine"? Yum to Solitude!) Lonliness is ugly, Aloneness is beautiful. Aloneness has a lumonousity in it... When you are sitting alone, you are lonely, you are simply missing. Deep down you are seeking some company - where to go, what to do, how to get occupied so that you can forget yourself. You have not yet created a relationship with yourself. You have not yet fallen in love with yourSELF."

How beautiful life becomes when your bestest of best.. all time BFF... is Self. Then you are not lonely beacause you are forever ALLONE. Friends come and go that share love, laughter, wisdom, kindess, generosity, but joy does not rest in their presence. Joy is carried in the heart and is always present... and that goes for all "exterior" relationships...

P.S. I left my costal paradise for a honeymoon with Self to the place where it all began... Zaragoza, España...the birthplace of la Pilar... a time to celebrate the love of Self... aka Pilar(in this lifetime)... I heart I.

The Mask called Ego

For the last several weeks I have been pondering "costumes" and their everyday use, outside of Halloween, mascarade balls, and Lucha Libre matches (that's Mexican wrestling for those that are unfamiliar with the term or translation... refer to Nacho Libre, the movie, for a further explanation). How many of us don't realize that Halloween is something we unconsciously live everyday? The costumes we slip on from a young age as we absorb... imitate... emulate... the examples we have chosen around us... mother, father, family, friends.... We know at birth and a young age "the secret" but we are taught in school and by our families to forget... generation after generation... because that is all we know how to do. We are unaware (asleep... unconscious) that this "skin"... this costume... this mask we call ego... isn't really who we are or what this life is all about.

But there is hope...I believe. We are waking up to this itchy sensation as the masks and costumes start to suffocate. Here I am, approaching my 30th anniversary around the sun (in the vessel I know as "Pilar") and I am starting to wake up to this uncomfortable sensation as I follow the signs south and shed the layers with the heat. Im just starting to scratch the surface of "Pilar" as I leave behind parts of "Lynda" and "Rudi" and "others"... with no offense to my parents in any way... they are perfect beings and great teachers for me...But, alas, I am getting closer to being my naked, true self... and for now, I recognize this costume for what it is and work towards peeling of that last layer and accepting SELF.

And to end with a good story and fun pics for entertainment purposes... A night out with the boys in "Zihuat"... I don't get out of Troncones much, but this was a special occasion... Only Mexican Wrestling could drag me out of my little paradise and into the "city" on a Saturday night... and boy oh boy was it worth it. An unforgettable night of laughter and excitement as we cheered our stretchy-pant-wearing men on as they flew through the air performing the craziest kinds of acrobatics. I was thoroughly impressed and entertained with the spectacle... especially with the wrestling outside of the ring, amongst all the spectators, including them rolling right through our row banging on each others head with a cow bell! CLASSIC! I recommend not missing the chance to see this performance live... Nacho is cool, but this takes the cake! J and J, aren't you guys glad that "buddy" decided to stay in Saladita for a bit longer and keep you here for the best night of your Mexican life? Hell Yeah you are!!!!!


And for those of you worrying and praying for the health of our girl, Marisol, she is/was much better thanks to your kind thoughts and the work of her team of love doctors, Jesus, J and J... Unfortunately, we are having a bit of a "bad" day at the moment, but nothing a little love (and possibly some starter or alternator maintenance) can't fix.... ahhhhh... the life of a VW van owner... You never know what you are going to get. I love it!