Sunday, March 26th, 2017


I have been alone for 20 days in Mexico. It happened by chance but I was glad to have the time. I had wanted to step out of my life for a long enough time so that I stopped panting.
No schedule, no time assigned to anything or anyone.

Guess what? Mostly I liked it. I did not leave the house except for two trips for groceries.
I did not encounter great meaning or a spiritual breakthrough. Those I do in my day to day life!! Nope. I slept lots. I read continuously. I never had a meal without a book in front of me.
I watched lots of Netflix. The Americans was compelling but I always swore I would never watch it again. Truly felt like a bad addiction to the dark side. So I would lighten up with Modern Family and Project Runway. If feeling snobby, I watched The Mind of a Chef. Then I’d have a bowl of cereal for supper.

In between vegetating I did have moments of outrageous contentment and moments of odd despair. They passed.

I’m flummoxed because I have culture clash looming. I have not spoken much English during this time alone. I am fully embedded in the extended family next door. I have lived alone with my own rhythms and my own mess. I have not cooked. I’ve eaten with the next door neighbors. I have an empty refrigerator and like it. I have not had a note of music or any TV during the 20 days. Never entered my mind. I loved the quiet.

My husband joins me in two days. I’ve forgotten how to accommodate space and rituals. I don’t want his Buddha altar in the fireplace.  I don’t want the dish drainer on the left side of the sink. I never want an alarm to go off in the morning.
You know. Two people again.

As my re-entry I went to a Birthday party with my neighbors and all of their extended family.
It was out in the campo. I served food and held babies and bemoaned Trump’s wall.
I danced. I gossiped with and about everyone. I have known these people for twelve years.
I am comfortable and feel like family. And yet no one is schooled. The houses are humble, mostly cinder block and every once in a while I wonder who of my friends and family would like to join me. But, I trust you would because here is joy and connection and laughter and all generations in the same space having fun. Of course, you would love it. I forget that it is not my ‘culture’ and then get surprised by my own.

I will write to my  family soon after I finish this. I am tired of distance and FaceTime conversations and limited face to face time together. Where is home? Who is family? How do you live fully in two homes? Mostly living in two places is an abundance of different beauty and riches. Sometimes, it’s confusing.

Time for a little Netflix and a bowl of cereal.  And , while writing this, I almost missed an extraordinary sunset. That I know would be dumb.


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