A Fate Worse Than Buttonwillow

I am, as always, excited to be on the road! Taking a trip to visit my closest friend in Scottsdale, who is there spending some time with her parents. Really can't wait to see her, but I really don't have a choice.

*Time to take a pout break*

Okay, I'm back. The first day/night of my trip was less than stellar, as you may have guessed from the title of my post. I am trapped in Buttonwillow, CA in an Econolodge, hemmed in with the thickest fog I have ever seen. Well, there might have been a few days on the East Coast that were similar, but this is definitely the thickest fog I've ever seen in California. How thick, I hear you asking? Here's a visual for you:

Last night the fog started encroaching about 50 miles outside of Los Angeles. I-5 South became virtually impassable, so I pulled into a rest area. Did I mention that my favorite thing about I-5 is the frequent rest stops? Well, it is. At any rate, a very large number of trucks were also stopped there, as well as a surprising number of cars. I parked, used the icy-cold women's bathroom (definitely a Cold-ilocks and the Three Brrrs kind of night) then settled in for a while. At one point I even reclined the driver's seat, pulled my red knit hat over my eyes and snoozed for close to an hour.

I waited for 2.5 hours for a let up in the fog, but--no surprise, I suppose--it just got thicker. I turned on my GPS and looked up Points of Interest, as in Hotels/Motels. Buttonwillow beckoned, only 1.6 miles away, with multiple motel choices. The Econolodge won my business because it was the least expensive.

Right now it's after 9 am and the fog has only partially relented. The photo above shows how thick the fog was at 8:45 am. It was twice as heavy at 7 am. According to my weather app, it should burn off by 10 am. The exact second it does, I am outta here!

Here's hoping my second day goes much better. May my progress be swift, my travels be safe, and my experiences delightful! Take care, and I wish the same for you, whether you are traveling for business or pleasure, to the store, or just through your life.

As always, thank you and bless you for reading to the end. Please feel free to comment if you are so moved.

~Warmth and Blessings~

Fulfilling a Promise

Some months back, I created a blog post in which I mentioned having a lover. His name is Randy, and I am very much in love with him.

As it turns out, he was not happy with the context in which he was mentioned in that previous post -- among other things. After we discussed the matter and I understood his point of view, I wrote a poem entitled, "What I Forgot to Say." After I shared it with Randy, I made him a promise to include that poem in the next post I did about he and I.

This is that post, and dear, sweet, magical Randy, these words and this poem are for you:

What I Forgot to Say

is how lucky I am
to have you in my life--
how infinitely, unreservedly
blessed.

What I forgot to say
is how deeply connected I feel
as I touch your hand, your face
gaze into your blue-green-hazel
and amazing eyes.

What I forgot to say
is Thank You.
I am so grateful
for your caring heart,
for the trust you've dredged
from forgotten depths, dusted off
and gifted me without condition.

What I forgot to say
is I Love You,
and though it's always there,
between and laced within
each line I write, I need
to say it aloud now, speak
write breathe and feel it,
engrave it on the air,
emboss it on my heart.

What I forgot to say
encompasses, no doubt,
many things.

What I will always remember
is how much you mean to me,
even if it is what I forget
to say.

Last Hours in Costa Rica

I've been hearing howly monkers (as I mistakenly said a few days ago, and have been calling them ever since) for hours, after waking at 4:30 am. Today we leave the Rich Coast, and for me it has been a magical, amazing -- and even a little bit mystical -- journey.

Breakfast will be served on the veranda of the main house of Nosara Bed & Breakfast in about 15 minutes, at 6:30, and the taxi arrives to trundle all of us writers and our luggage on our two-and-a-half-hour off to the Liberia Airport. Apparently in Costa Rica, International travelers must arrive at the airport three hours early, rather than the two hours required in the U.S.

I encountered bats, got up close and personal with howler monkeys, explored sea caves only accessible at zero tide, swam in the warm ocean, saw the famous green flash (see photo) and wrote many pages of poems, a few of prose, two songs and a series of comedy one liners about how to tell when it's way too freaking hot. I also greatly enjoyed the company of the other writers and drew inspiration and delight from their work.

I am sad to leave yet also happy to return home and see my lover, husband and friends. I know I'll also enjoy the MUCH cooler weather Oakland has in store tonight and for the rest of the winter. I'll leave you with a howly monker photo or two, as well as my list of one liners about the heat.

 You know it’s way too freaking hot when:

You break into a sweat parting your hair.

A cold shower has nothing to do with quelling your libido.

Opening your skull to put ice directly on your brain sounds like a fabulous idea.

Your sweat is sweating.

Your sweat glands have formed a union and are threatening to strike if you don’t give them time off.

You start writing strange stories about psychic, talking howler monkeys.

Sitting in one spot for hours then going to bed early sounds like your idea of a perfect Saturday night.

Your eyeballs feel like poached eggs.

 Wherever you travel, may you sink deeply in, find at least joy--if not transformation--have the time of your life and return safely.

Thanks for reading to the end. As always, comments are welcome.

Costa Eureka!

It's nearly 9 pm in Liberia, Costa Rica and I spent most of the day sleeping off what felt like the beginning of a head cold. My body feels tired and a bit achy still, though I can breathe just fine, and I've been eating. The lovely women who work in the kitchen here brought me my lunch on a tray. About an hour ago, two of my wonderful writing classmates brought me dinner. The food is delicious here! For lunch I had a salad and a hand-made corn tortilla with rice, veggies and black beans, plus a tall, cool glass of what I'm guessing was guava juice. Dinner was so generous I haven't finished it yet: four large plantain patties, a bowl of fish ceviche and a cabbage salad, plus a glass of what tastes like beet juice. Oh, and fried plantains (platanos) with honey (miel) for dessert! Delicioso!

I've taken some amazing photos, in large part because it's so gorgeous here that it's probably impossible to take a bad one. The one featured above is the shot I got of one of the howler monkeys. First time I'd seen one, and I happened to be in the right place at the right time AND have my camera! He moved so fast I was only able to get the one photo, yet I'm quite pleased with it.

Beauty abounds here, and yesterday we went on a two-hour plus walk through the Nosara Nature Preserve. I forgot my camera, which ended up being perfect because I wrote a poem about the experience called "Costa Eureka!" One of my favorite things is the variety of colors in every plant and flower. Here's a photo of some gorgeous pink hibiscus:

And here's a snippet from the poem I wrote after the nature walk:

I am not a nature poet, but

I’ll try to describe pale daybreak

warming to fiery gold, waves blue

white blue white lingeringly kissing

black volcanic sand.

I’ll try to paint for you the yellow

cream dun brown green gray

jungle floor, from which grows

the magnificent, murdering Strangler Fig,

snaking around another tree

until it is snugly held,

juiceless, dead.

I’ll do my best to convey the majesty

of the Rain Tree, draped in luxuriant

lace, yards and yards and yards pour

greenly down, and rustle with a rainy sound.

Thanks for reading all the way through. I'll post again soon, because I really want to share the photos I took on the beach yesterday evening, especially a series that captures the famous green flash!

Take care, and may you always know how much you matter.

Where the Monkeys Howl

It's almost 6 am in Liberia, Costa Rica. The Howler Monkeys are making mad music in the trees and the day is just starting to break. The temperature right now is 73, and during the day the forecast promises a high of 93.

Won't have any photos to share until later today. Whether I get to any more posts will depend on the iffy Internet access. I'll post as often as I'm able!

I'm generally not such an earlier riser, but I flew in yesterday on a red eye from San Francisco, with a change of planes in Houston. I feel asleep around 7:30 CR time last night, and woke up around 4 am. Breakfast is served at 7:30 am, and I'm guessing I'll feel hungry for it today.

I'm here with Clive Matson, my writing mentor, and three or four other participants for a writing retreat that promises to be amazing! The Pacific Ocean is just a hop and a skip away. Since CR is very close to the equator, I brought sunscreen and lots of white clothing.

Last night I took a cool shower while everyone else was at an impromptu Superbowl party. Best decision ever! The water felt like heaven on earth after the intense heat of the day, and a bit of peppermint soap added to the delight. I'll take another short shower before going to breakfast, so I can begin the day as fresh as possible.

Wherever you are and whatever you're doing, may you always remember how brightly you shine!

The Good, the Blad, and the Drugly

Thought I'd add a touch of holiday cheer

Yes, you read that post title correctly. I'm sitting at home with a bladder infection, popping over the counter remedies and drinking a magical health potion of lemon juice, stevia, tea tree oil, anise oil, orange, lemon, and grapefruit oils plus two drops of oregano oil. I also have a heating pad in my lap to assist with pain management. Have I mentioned how much I'd rather be going out tonight with my poet friend Clara to see two other friends, Don and Jeanne, feature at Sacred Grounds? Well, I would.

Yesterday was a little too much for me. I arrived at the Alameda post office on Shore Line Drive at 11 am on the dot to submit my passport application and have photos taken. The clerk behind the counter informed me that she "didn't touch the camera," so "no pictures on Tuesday." This when I had called ahead the previous Friday and the man who answered the phone said he would "make a note" that I also needed photos. Luckily there was a Big Name Drug Store nearby where I could have passport pics taken (for a few dollars less than at the USPS, I might add). Long story shorter, what might have taken 20 minutes ended up taking over an hour. Arrrgh!

After that I spent about four hours with my friend Cathy, receiving an amazing hypno-massage session and helping her with her book about her dad in trade.

I left at 4:30 and drove to the Lakeview branch of the Oakland Library, where I teach a free two-hour writing workshop one day each month (usually the fourth Tuesday). I'm including the first five months of dates at the end of this post, in case you're interested in writing with me, along with the times and address.

Did some shopping at Trader Joe's, which was in the neighborhood, then parked and skated into the library about a second after the bells in the church tower stopped ringing  6 pm (which is when the class begins).

After that I had a date with my other beloved. Yes, I am revealing it in this blog for the first time: I am polyamorous, which means (in my case) that I am happily married and also have a lover. My husband and sweetheart are each aware the other exists, and while they have yet to meet, each knows a fair amount about the other. My lover and I had a delightful time together, after which I arrived home around midnight.

All this activity proved too much for my poor bladder, which began painfully protesting somewhere around the middle of the day yesterday. I decided that taking the day off -- and perhaps tomorrow as well -- was the best course of action. As one of my teachers, Francesca, is fond of saying: "Even rest can be an action."

So, the Good: Both my divinely dishy sweethearts, who lovingly support me; my wonderful friends, who also lovingly support me; rest, relaxation, excellent self care and India Spice tea with coconut milk -- YUM! The Blad: my poor, sore, ouchy bladder who is protesting my uber-stressful schedule, along with the challenges always present for me during this season of ostensible joy and good cheer; and the Drugly: ibuprofen from the dollar store, over-the-counter pills from the "Feminine Care" aisle at the local drug store; my delicious potion, chock full of natural anti-virals and anti-bacterials. Oh, and loving support from myself  to myself, producing endorphins: the very best drugs of all!

Take super extra excellent care of yourselves this -- and every -- holiday season, as well as during every other season of the year.

Your comments are encouraged -- and welcome!

~Love and Blessings,
Selene~

P.S. -- The Lakeview library is located at 550 El Embarcadero (between Grand and Lakeshore Avenues) near Lake Merritt in Oakland, and the writing group meets from 6 pm to 8 pm. Here are the dates through May 2013 (all Tuesdays):

January 29
February 26
March 26
April 23
May 14

Resting in Myself

I often feel that my life is composed of epiphanies strung together at times with soft threads of wool, at other times with sensual lines of silk, and too often with very thin, sharp bands of steel that cut into me regardless of which way I turn. I have been engaged for several months now in the process of removing the steel bands, because they hurt others as well as me and keep me from fully opening my heart.

Mysterious life delivered a message to me today, through another amazing soul in my Biodanza class with Zora. During our pre-class sharing circle, she described an experience that allowed her to "rest in herself." Those three seemingly simple words opened up a deep longing in me. Can I really do that? asked a very young part of me. Can I really rest in myself?

How do I explain this longing to those of you who do not live outside yourselves? I'm certain there are at least a few of you out there. Ever since I was very small, I've been trained to live outside myself; whatever is going on emotionally with other people is my job to monitor. I do it quite automatically, rarely resting in myself. As I write this, I feel it's no wonder I have trouble sleeping. I often stay up until dawn, reveling in the silence of psychic airwaves. Nearly everyone in my part of the world is asleep by about 3 am, making the time afterward uniquely my own -- time when I can rest outside myself, since that's where I usually am.

Now back to this new and intriguing concept: resting in myself. I thought I could already do it, and perhaps -- from time to time -- I can. My longing is quite specific, however: to know what it's like to rest in myself most of the time. As an empathic and strongly sensitive being, I spend a great deal of my day exhausted. What would my days look and feel like if I could keep more of my vitality and life energy for myself? Even when -- perhaps especially when -- I interact with others?

I don't know yet exactly what it's like; how could I? This is a relatively new idea for me. For the nonce I'm paying attention to the tenderness blossoming inside me, and the still, small voice that says yes, it is possible to rest in yourself. As I believe, so may I receive.

Thank you for reading to the end, and may you always know how deeply you touch the world.