it has been a long time since I have written but this weekend I am celebrating my anniversary in paradise. It's been a year since I took a leap of faith into the great unknown and moved to California to start my life over. The first weeks of living in California went by in a state of constant excitement, I felt like had moved to Pandora (see my blog posts from that time). And although I love living in California more and more as time goes by, I went through some pretty hard times during my first year.
My dream job turned out to be more of a nightmare, I got paid so little that I could not afford rent, moved into a van (Vandora), lost my job and found myself living in a van with no income, no savings, and no work prospects. Those were dark times in which I struggled with depression, despair, confusion, and anxiety. Thankfully my wonderful new friend Mead stood by my side, bought me food, and even moved into my van as a protector and cherished friend.
Everyone asked us if we were a couple and we insisted that we were not. We were not romantically or sexually involved and our friendship was not based on attraction but a deep emotional connection. He spent most of his life in a christian cult and had gotten divorced after a very long marriage. In May Mead and I admitted to ourselves that our connection was so deep that we were more than "just friends." In June we both found new work and in July we had enough funds to rent a room together.
Our connection grew stronger and stronger until we finally admitted that we were in a relationship. However, we had had conversations about relationship choices before and we both decided that we wanted to be in an open relationship, we would try being polyamorous. This was a new path for both of us, one I had been thinking about ever since I met my polyamorous cuddle partner in Germany. As soon as we admitted that we were partners, we went to a potluck for polyamory together.
We were both nervous and intimidated. I ended up sitting next to a tall Australian guy who has been polyamorous for 15 years. I thought he was rather scary, especially after he asked me to join him and a few others in a hot tub. They were all going to be naked! Of course I didn't join, but Mead and I went home full of new impressions and ideas. I saw the scary Australian and his girlfriend a little while later at a festival. Throughout the summer he emailed me and in late summer Mead more or less talked me into going on a date with him. He has been my boyfriend ever since.
The excitement of falling in love and discovering what a healthy relationship is really like has been overshadowed somewhat by increasing health problems. I had known there was something wrong with me even before I left Germany, but this winter I finally got a diagnosis: heavy metal poisoning with high levels of mercury and almost off-the-chart levels of lead. My doctor said it was common for people with such high levels of metals to develop severe health problems including schizophrenia.
Thankfully my symptoms are much less severe and consist mostly of fatigue, low energy, muscle weakness, irritability, depression, and occasional short spurts of anxiety. Many days I wake up feeling like I have just gotten over a dreadful bout of the flu. I have been taking supplements to compensate for the lack of nutrient absorption due to the toxins as well as substances that chelate the metals out of my system. It can be a long healing journey, but I am thankful to have a diagnosis and to be on the right track (and to have escaped schizophrenia!).
My partner Mead and my boyfriend Mik have been wonderfully supportive. As I am writing this, I am celebrating my anniversary of moving to California. I have not regretted my choice even once, not when I lost my home, not when I lost my work, not when I felt weak and depressed, not ever. Mik and I and a bunch of friends and partners went on a relaxing romantic get-away in the Sierra Nevada mountains at a hot spring retreat. I am sitting in front of a quietly flickering fire in a log cabin while my friends are playing scrabble and plucking an acoustic guitar. A cat is stretched out in front of the fire place, purring contently. Last night we watched a red moon rise over the valley and later illuminate the sky while we were swimming in a hot sulfury pool.
I left the pool to sit in a temple dome with a small hot spring pool with a sandy bottom, flickering candles, and spiritual art. I thought I'd go in to meditate, but I found myself praying the same prayer over and over again: Thank you, thank you, thank you, oh God, thank you so much, thank you!
I remember the days when I surfed the web, reading about people living this kind of life, wondering if it was real, if people could really live so deeply, authentically, emotionally, eccentrically, blissfully.
Today I am right where I want to be. I am living the life of my wildest dreams, the life of a different reality. I still feel the underlying weakness of the toxins, I still feel the suffocating cover of depression trying to rob me off joy, trying to darken the light. It is a constant unwanted companion, but there is something new in my life that I have not known for years: a peace that transcends all understanding, a joy that is seated deep within my soul. Sometimes I want to shake my friends and try to imbue them with the sense of wonder I feel: "do you have any idea how AMAZING this life we are living is? Do you really appreciate it?" Buy then I see the glow in their eyes and I hear their sighs of content and I know that their life is also marked by gratitude, driven by passion.
The sun is setting, the sky is fading from blue into pink, the last rays of sun are reflecting off the crusty snow. A few friends have nodded off, the fire has died down, and the woodsmoke and soft guitar playing make me sleepy. The muscles in my legs are starting to remind me of my afternoon hike, jumping over a creek, running barefoot in the snow, and running and sliding over frozen patches of snow, over and over again, giggling like a child. It is time to shut down the computer, grab a towel, and go back to hot spring soaking. Maybe we'll float all night and watch the sun go up together. Or maybe we'll go back to our cozy country style hotel and cuddle together and talk about our views of God, the meaning of life, the many, many facets of love. Or maybe we'll come back to the fire place and crack each other up with our ideas of inventing cowboy saddles for silicon valley "cowgeeks" with built-in GPS and wireless connections as well as an automatic chocolate dispenser and a pee funnel that allows one to stay on their horse for hours without having to use a restroom.
And then tomorrow we return to the bay area, we'll watch the fog roll over the bay, we'll eat our lunches in the sun, we'll watch the first trees sprout spring blossoms. Although our retreat will be over, we will still live in the most beautiful place in the country, the redwoods, the bay, the ocean, the hills. And there will be too many wonderful parties, workshops, and outings to choose from every single weekend. And I will fall asleep feeling loved and wake up feeling grateful - because for the first time in my life, I am truly home.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Friday, November 05, 2010
Autumn in California
More than half a year of silence from someone as bubbly and talkative as I am means either I was in the jungle somewhere without internet access or I have been going through some major transitions and struggles in my life and did not now how to write about them. As you have guessed, I was not in the jungle. I am still struggling to find words to express what my first dry season in California was like.
The rain stopped sometime in May and a lot of ambitions in my life screeched to a halt and led to a season of creative drought. As blindly as I was in love with the job that brought me to California as brutal was my awakening when our honeymoon ended and my job and I had a more honest look at each other. He - the job, that is - was not who I thought he was when I fell in love with him. Growing disappointment led to a tearful and dramatic break-up in early May.
Despite loosing my honeymoon infatuation weeks earlier being "dumped" suddenly shortly after my 31st birthday came as a shock. I had been determined to work things out no matter how difficult, but the decision was not mutual. I found my self unemployed without any substantial savings and no place to live. Since I had poured all of my energy into work, I had no support network or circle of friends to call on.
The drought that followed was a dark season. I am often asked why I didn't move back to Germany. I had no real ties in California, no serious friendships yet, no work, no income, no place to live. But my love for my new home had taken root so deeply that going back to Germany was out of the question for me.
I toyed with the idea of moving to Portland, but I feared that a major part of my attraction to good old Stumptown was nostalgia for a life that no longer existed. Moving back and expecting things to be as they used to be would inevitably lead to more disappointment and heartbreak. Over the course of time I learned that my best friends in Portland were moving away, only confirming that as much as I love this city, it is no longer my home.
Summer became a roller coaster ride for me. I was thrilled by the changes in nature, the fantastic hikes and adventures I had in the Marin hills, on Mount Tamalpais, beautiful wild beaches, nature preserves, vast open spaces. I found work serving food at festivals and got a wonderful introduction to West Coast festival culture and realized that I had FINALLY found the culture I fit into. I thought I never would, but I found I was becoming part of a family of people. I truly fit in for the first time in life and the experience was one of coming home after years of wandering. I feel like I have arrived after a lifetime of searching. I no longer feel lost, I feel like I have finally found what I have been looking for all my life. The experience still fills me with overflowing gratitude every time I think about it.
At the same time I entered into a new adventure I thought I would not dare to approach for months or maybe even years to come: I entered into a relationship. Mead and I met working together and became best friends instantly. For months we reassured each other regularily that we were "just friends". We were constantly asked about the nature of our relationship but insisted we were just friends. We remained blind to the depth at which we had bonded for weeks.
Mead's circumstances were no better than mine and due to his work conditions he couldn't afford rent and slept in his vehicle. When his vehicle broke down I offered him a place to sleep in my van. But after his vehicle was repaired we both decided to stay in the van together. Eventually we had to admit that we were no longer "just friends" but partners. Automotive partners. When we found better work we decided to remain partners. Domestic partners.
In the middle of summer we started renting an absolutely magical space on a hill surrounded by redwood trees. We even have redwoods on the property, a little paradise on earth. Every time I look out of the window I feel like I live in a fairy world. The path to our front door winds through sequoias and it sprinkled with colorful sparkling pebbles. Mead built us a loft bed and we are still working on moving in and matching the inside to the magic surrounding this place.
In late summer I spent most of my days working. I was hired by the same company that I was working for at festivals but now worked in my hometown assisting the owner in opening up a restaurant. Late summer almost passed me by, on my days off I was usually too exhausted to do anything but recover from a long workweek and seemingly endless overtime hours.
But I also started going to San Francisco frequently. One group of visitors after another came from Germany and I gave tours of San Francisco and her surroundings. In the process I began to fall in love with the city, her colorful victorian style houses, luscious parks, free events, barefooted hippies, rugged beaches, fantastic book shops, restaurants, and coffee shops. I love riding cable cars all day long, wind tearing through my hair, jumping on and off, running up ridiculously steep streets that have my calves screaming in protest.
As Indian summer set in, the fog dissipated and warm late summer nights replaced grey evenings, I fell in love. I fell in love not only with the city but also with the man who showed me her secret gems, hidden murals, melancholy memorials heavy with historical fights for freedom and tolerance of one of the most revolutionary and diverse cities in the world. The man who took me out for my first real date and under a starlit night in Dolores park asked if I would like him to kiss me.
As perfect as my life was becoming, there was something fundamentally wrong. I reached a point where I was nothing but grateful for my life. I felt absolutely fulfilled and truly happy - and depressed. As hard as I tried, I found no reason to be depressed, no circumstances that could have been the cause. Shortly after my divorce I interpreted fatigue, low energy, depression, anxiety, etc. to the trauma of my failed marriage. After that I thought it was because I was working through my past. Next it was due to detoxifying of something or another. When I moved to California I chalked it up to new circumstances. When my job turned out to be a major disappointment I took that to be the reason. When I worked endless hours during the summer, I held my schedule responsible. But by fall I had run out of excuses.
Last week I finally used the raise I received at work as incentive to see a doctor. I was tested for all kinds of possible conditions but while there were many smaller problems they all pointed to one underlying condition: mercury and heavy metal poisoning. I was tested for both and the results were positive, with mercury being present in large amounts in my nervous system.
Mercury levels as high as mine lead to all sorts of problems including failure to absorb nutrients, loss of muscle strength, thyroid conditions, liver problems, and any number of mental conditions ranging from memory loss to schizophrenia. Considering the toxicity of my body I am actually in really good shape, I could be a lot worse; many suffering from heavy metal toxicity are unable to work and lead normal lives.
At this point I am incredibly grateful to know why I am struggling with so many symptoms despite being so in love with life. I started a treatment program and am hoping to see results in the new few weeks. Of course I appreciate any prayers sent my way as I am going through recovery from this condition. I am grateful that my life's circumstances are constantly improving, offering better and better support. I am especially grateful for new friends I am making who are very genuine and deep and refreshingly honest.
Autumn in California is not what I expected it to be. As the rains come the world turns a bit more grey at times, but colorful fall foliage is not replaced by barren branches and dead grass. The ground is coming to life, what I know as spring season in northern climates is taking place here in November, tender shoots of grass, brown hills turning green, flowers coming to life, the forests becoming richer in color. It fits my mood. As the days grow shorter and we are encouraged to draw inward, new life flourishes. I pray it is the same for me. I draw inward for a time of healing and the blossoming of new life.
The rain stopped sometime in May and a lot of ambitions in my life screeched to a halt and led to a season of creative drought. As blindly as I was in love with the job that brought me to California as brutal was my awakening when our honeymoon ended and my job and I had a more honest look at each other. He - the job, that is - was not who I thought he was when I fell in love with him. Growing disappointment led to a tearful and dramatic break-up in early May.
Despite loosing my honeymoon infatuation weeks earlier being "dumped" suddenly shortly after my 31st birthday came as a shock. I had been determined to work things out no matter how difficult, but the decision was not mutual. I found my self unemployed without any substantial savings and no place to live. Since I had poured all of my energy into work, I had no support network or circle of friends to call on.
The drought that followed was a dark season. I am often asked why I didn't move back to Germany. I had no real ties in California, no serious friendships yet, no work, no income, no place to live. But my love for my new home had taken root so deeply that going back to Germany was out of the question for me.
I toyed with the idea of moving to Portland, but I feared that a major part of my attraction to good old Stumptown was nostalgia for a life that no longer existed. Moving back and expecting things to be as they used to be would inevitably lead to more disappointment and heartbreak. Over the course of time I learned that my best friends in Portland were moving away, only confirming that as much as I love this city, it is no longer my home.
Summer became a roller coaster ride for me. I was thrilled by the changes in nature, the fantastic hikes and adventures I had in the Marin hills, on Mount Tamalpais, beautiful wild beaches, nature preserves, vast open spaces. I found work serving food at festivals and got a wonderful introduction to West Coast festival culture and realized that I had FINALLY found the culture I fit into. I thought I never would, but I found I was becoming part of a family of people. I truly fit in for the first time in life and the experience was one of coming home after years of wandering. I feel like I have arrived after a lifetime of searching. I no longer feel lost, I feel like I have finally found what I have been looking for all my life. The experience still fills me with overflowing gratitude every time I think about it.
At the same time I entered into a new adventure I thought I would not dare to approach for months or maybe even years to come: I entered into a relationship. Mead and I met working together and became best friends instantly. For months we reassured each other regularily that we were "just friends". We were constantly asked about the nature of our relationship but insisted we were just friends. We remained blind to the depth at which we had bonded for weeks.
Mead's circumstances were no better than mine and due to his work conditions he couldn't afford rent and slept in his vehicle. When his vehicle broke down I offered him a place to sleep in my van. But after his vehicle was repaired we both decided to stay in the van together. Eventually we had to admit that we were no longer "just friends" but partners. Automotive partners. When we found better work we decided to remain partners. Domestic partners.
In the middle of summer we started renting an absolutely magical space on a hill surrounded by redwood trees. We even have redwoods on the property, a little paradise on earth. Every time I look out of the window I feel like I live in a fairy world. The path to our front door winds through sequoias and it sprinkled with colorful sparkling pebbles. Mead built us a loft bed and we are still working on moving in and matching the inside to the magic surrounding this place.
In late summer I spent most of my days working. I was hired by the same company that I was working for at festivals but now worked in my hometown assisting the owner in opening up a restaurant. Late summer almost passed me by, on my days off I was usually too exhausted to do anything but recover from a long workweek and seemingly endless overtime hours.
But I also started going to San Francisco frequently. One group of visitors after another came from Germany and I gave tours of San Francisco and her surroundings. In the process I began to fall in love with the city, her colorful victorian style houses, luscious parks, free events, barefooted hippies, rugged beaches, fantastic book shops, restaurants, and coffee shops. I love riding cable cars all day long, wind tearing through my hair, jumping on and off, running up ridiculously steep streets that have my calves screaming in protest.
As Indian summer set in, the fog dissipated and warm late summer nights replaced grey evenings, I fell in love. I fell in love not only with the city but also with the man who showed me her secret gems, hidden murals, melancholy memorials heavy with historical fights for freedom and tolerance of one of the most revolutionary and diverse cities in the world. The man who took me out for my first real date and under a starlit night in Dolores park asked if I would like him to kiss me.
As perfect as my life was becoming, there was something fundamentally wrong. I reached a point where I was nothing but grateful for my life. I felt absolutely fulfilled and truly happy - and depressed. As hard as I tried, I found no reason to be depressed, no circumstances that could have been the cause. Shortly after my divorce I interpreted fatigue, low energy, depression, anxiety, etc. to the trauma of my failed marriage. After that I thought it was because I was working through my past. Next it was due to detoxifying of something or another. When I moved to California I chalked it up to new circumstances. When my job turned out to be a major disappointment I took that to be the reason. When I worked endless hours during the summer, I held my schedule responsible. But by fall I had run out of excuses.
Last week I finally used the raise I received at work as incentive to see a doctor. I was tested for all kinds of possible conditions but while there were many smaller problems they all pointed to one underlying condition: mercury and heavy metal poisoning. I was tested for both and the results were positive, with mercury being present in large amounts in my nervous system.
Mercury levels as high as mine lead to all sorts of problems including failure to absorb nutrients, loss of muscle strength, thyroid conditions, liver problems, and any number of mental conditions ranging from memory loss to schizophrenia. Considering the toxicity of my body I am actually in really good shape, I could be a lot worse; many suffering from heavy metal toxicity are unable to work and lead normal lives.
At this point I am incredibly grateful to know why I am struggling with so many symptoms despite being so in love with life. I started a treatment program and am hoping to see results in the new few weeks. Of course I appreciate any prayers sent my way as I am going through recovery from this condition. I am grateful that my life's circumstances are constantly improving, offering better and better support. I am especially grateful for new friends I am making who are very genuine and deep and refreshingly honest.
Autumn in California is not what I expected it to be. As the rains come the world turns a bit more grey at times, but colorful fall foliage is not replaced by barren branches and dead grass. The ground is coming to life, what I know as spring season in northern climates is taking place here in November, tender shoots of grass, brown hills turning green, flowers coming to life, the forests becoming richer in color. It fits my mood. As the days grow shorter and we are encouraged to draw inward, new life flourishes. I pray it is the same for me. I draw inward for a time of healing and the blossoming of new life.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Vegans, Vans, and Valentines - at Hogwarts
It's March 7th and I am sitting at Cafe Gratitude - nowadays referred to as simply "the cafe" as in THE cafe - without a sweater, soaking up the sun, smelling cherry blossoms and listening to the typical snippets of conversation that so enchanted me when I first moved here. They no longer enchant me; now they remind me that I live in a enchanted reality. It feels like going from the world of muggles to Hogwarts. I am muggle born and I dearly love my muggle family and much of the muggle world. But like Hermione, eventually I would get my invitation to Hogwarts and I would have to go.
Now I have arrived at my new school and am surrounded by other non-muggles. The magical folks of my world are called raw vegans. I now live and learn in a world of raw vegans. And I am not a pure-blood nor do I care to be - say goat kefir or goat yoghurt and watch me devour either in a very un-vegan fashion. It's not so much about the food as it is about the culture. The food is both, the vegan chicken and egg. It is the foundation of a different way of doing life as well as the outcome of a different mindset. This way of life is paramount to the ability to do magic, but unlike in Harry Potter's world, it is inherent in all of us. It doesn't make vegan folks better or more advanced than muggles. However, a world based on vegan raw food principles opens up opportunities that are not as readily available to the muggle world.
In the world of muggles technology often takes the place of magic. In my world of magic technology plays a role - but there are alternatives that reduce our reliance on machines. People look each other in the eyes. I noticed that as soon as I got here and I still notice it on a daily basis. People make eye contact. Not just briefly, but often intensely. Non-verbal communication takes place that replaces some of the need for technology. A look, a thought, a smile replace a phone call, a text message, an email. It doesn't take as long to get to know someone, because there is ample opportunity to feel the other person out. I am deeply in love with this form of interaction.
I have a vegan raw foodie friend here who went through a divorce as well. We were talking about our ex-spouses and the concept of regret. He asked me what the opposite of regret was. Intuitively, without giving the question much thought, I blurted out: gratitude. The more I thought about it, the more I know that my intuition was true. I am so grateful for how far I have come in a year, so grateful for the freedom I have now, and even grateful for all the wonderful times I shared with my ex-husband and all the things he taught me. My gratitude for what I gained through my marriage is so much stronger than the power of regret. Gratitude has taken the place of regret.
There has been another replacement. I used to hear my ex-husband's voice in my head. A voice of limitations, diminishing and degrading me. At the rainbow gathering last year I got involved in a healing session which resulted in the disappearance of said voice. My friend asked me what took the place of that voice, alluding to Jesus' wisdom that a cast-out demon will return with 6 of his cronies, leaving you in a condition 7 times worse than before. I had never asked myself that question, but I knew the answer: the diminishing voice had been replaced with laughter! Just like that voice came unexpectedly sometimes, so does laughter sneak up on me these days.
I love being in this culture. There is vegan raw ice cream, chocolate chip mint, pralines and cream, creamy citrus, coconut, and next on the menu, dulce de leche. There are sky-high raw vegan layered cakes, sprouted tortillas, sprouted tofu, raw vegan chips, crackers, breads. I just finished a fantastic strawberry shortcake and vegan masala chai. All these things I thought should exist, somewhere in the world, the delicious treats I have always loved, in raw vegan fashion, they are right here! I am Harry Potter, wide-eyed, emerged from the cupboard under the stairs, getting a hang of life at Hogwarts.
Speaking of cupboard under the stairs, I am relocating - again. Eventually I want to live in a community, but until then, I decided I'd go with the flexibility of living in a van.My friend, the Shimshai singing hot springs adventurer, decided the same thing. A few days after making a decision, she owned a van. Apparently time moves differently in this part of California, and so it was only a day after my decision that I told my room mate I'd be moving out. She was excited and happy for me. Less than a week later I became the proud owner of a camper van.
It took me all of 5 Minutes to find the perfect name for my new home: Vandora! I bought her in Berkeley and as I was driving her back to Marin county I could see the setting sun gleaming off downtown San Francisco. The wind was rustling through my hair through the opened window and I let our a long scream! I am home, home in a world of magic. The local eco-paint store just so happened to have "oops" paint in Vandoran green and in just a couple more days I will be ready to move to Vandora.
My first Valentine's day in Marin county reminded me of Harry Potter's first christmas at Hogwarts. There have always been chocolate and flowers at Valentine's day. But this year I breathed chocolate all Valentine's day long and looked at a rainbow bouquet of flowers. Valentine's Day flowers, delivered to the chocolate factory. Delivered to Annika Mongan at Sacred Chocolate. My first Valentine's flowers - ever. I so love love.
Now I have arrived at my new school and am surrounded by other non-muggles. The magical folks of my world are called raw vegans. I now live and learn in a world of raw vegans. And I am not a pure-blood nor do I care to be - say goat kefir or goat yoghurt and watch me devour either in a very un-vegan fashion. It's not so much about the food as it is about the culture. The food is both, the vegan chicken and egg. It is the foundation of a different way of doing life as well as the outcome of a different mindset. This way of life is paramount to the ability to do magic, but unlike in Harry Potter's world, it is inherent in all of us. It doesn't make vegan folks better or more advanced than muggles. However, a world based on vegan raw food principles opens up opportunities that are not as readily available to the muggle world.
In the world of muggles technology often takes the place of magic. In my world of magic technology plays a role - but there are alternatives that reduce our reliance on machines. People look each other in the eyes. I noticed that as soon as I got here and I still notice it on a daily basis. People make eye contact. Not just briefly, but often intensely. Non-verbal communication takes place that replaces some of the need for technology. A look, a thought, a smile replace a phone call, a text message, an email. It doesn't take as long to get to know someone, because there is ample opportunity to feel the other person out. I am deeply in love with this form of interaction.
I have a vegan raw foodie friend here who went through a divorce as well. We were talking about our ex-spouses and the concept of regret. He asked me what the opposite of regret was. Intuitively, without giving the question much thought, I blurted out: gratitude. The more I thought about it, the more I know that my intuition was true. I am so grateful for how far I have come in a year, so grateful for the freedom I have now, and even grateful for all the wonderful times I shared with my ex-husband and all the things he taught me. My gratitude for what I gained through my marriage is so much stronger than the power of regret. Gratitude has taken the place of regret.
There has been another replacement. I used to hear my ex-husband's voice in my head. A voice of limitations, diminishing and degrading me. At the rainbow gathering last year I got involved in a healing session which resulted in the disappearance of said voice. My friend asked me what took the place of that voice, alluding to Jesus' wisdom that a cast-out demon will return with 6 of his cronies, leaving you in a condition 7 times worse than before. I had never asked myself that question, but I knew the answer: the diminishing voice had been replaced with laughter! Just like that voice came unexpectedly sometimes, so does laughter sneak up on me these days.
I love being in this culture. There is vegan raw ice cream, chocolate chip mint, pralines and cream, creamy citrus, coconut, and next on the menu, dulce de leche. There are sky-high raw vegan layered cakes, sprouted tortillas, sprouted tofu, raw vegan chips, crackers, breads. I just finished a fantastic strawberry shortcake and vegan masala chai. All these things I thought should exist, somewhere in the world, the delicious treats I have always loved, in raw vegan fashion, they are right here! I am Harry Potter, wide-eyed, emerged from the cupboard under the stairs, getting a hang of life at Hogwarts.
Speaking of cupboard under the stairs, I am relocating - again. Eventually I want to live in a community, but until then, I decided I'd go with the flexibility of living in a van.My friend, the Shimshai singing hot springs adventurer, decided the same thing. A few days after making a decision, she owned a van. Apparently time moves differently in this part of California, and so it was only a day after my decision that I told my room mate I'd be moving out. She was excited and happy for me. Less than a week later I became the proud owner of a camper van.
It took me all of 5 Minutes to find the perfect name for my new home: Vandora! I bought her in Berkeley and as I was driving her back to Marin county I could see the setting sun gleaming off downtown San Francisco. The wind was rustling through my hair through the opened window and I let our a long scream! I am home, home in a world of magic. The local eco-paint store just so happened to have "oops" paint in Vandoran green and in just a couple more days I will be ready to move to Vandora.
My first Valentine's day in Marin county reminded me of Harry Potter's first christmas at Hogwarts. There have always been chocolate and flowers at Valentine's day. But this year I breathed chocolate all Valentine's day long and looked at a rainbow bouquet of flowers. Valentine's Day flowers, delivered to the chocolate factory. Delivered to Annika Mongan at Sacred Chocolate. My first Valentine's flowers - ever. I so love love.
Monday, February 01, 2010
Pandoran dream
The calendar says I've only been here for a couple of weeks, but I am not sure it can be trusted. I have never ever felt so at home in my entire life. Yes, that's superlative, but it is not hyperbole. I feel like I have returned to the place where my soul is from, even if my body first came here 2 weeks ago. A long exile is ending and my spirit has returned to its tribe. It doesn't matter that I haven't met any of the other tribe members yet, it is a joy and a privilege to get to know them, each encounter a new adventure.
I find myself wondering if I have landed on Pandora. For the past week it's been hard to go to sleep - the irresponsible amount of chocolate I am consuming is a contributing factor, but there is also a secret fear that keeps me up late - the fear of going to sleep and then waking up and realizing that it was all just a dream. That I am back on earth, with healthy legs but without the wings I've been fletching and testing since I got here.
Two nights ago I stood on the edge of a cliff in the silver hues of the full moon watching the waves crash upon the shore far beneath me. I felt a lightness in my soul, I raised my arms, I laughed loudly, and if my feet had left the ground and I had started flying over the rugged peaks and foaming surf I would not have been startled. But I descended the cliff more slowly, the traditional way, looking for solid footing on a gravelly steep path. On the way down I passed groups of beautiful hippies sitting together, talking, laughing, singing, snuggling.
At the bottom of the cliff I looked in wide-eyed wonder into a sulfury hot spring accessible only during the lowest tide at full moon. Winter storms had tossed boulders into the spring and the tide was already coming back in, dumping cold ocean water into the warm spring. My baptism into this new reality had to be postponed but disappointment found no place in my heart on a night like this. I sat on a rock with two beautiful new friends, snuggled close to one while the other began singing to the rhythm of the incoming tide. I was almost too happy to sing, always on the verge of laughter, but then I joined her in singing my deepest heart song, MY song, a song I introduced to other before, but never before has anyone sung it to me. God only knows how much it meant to me that she chose this particular song:
Pure, pure like the water
Let it run forever more
To be clean, clean as the waves
comes crashing to the shore
It leave me smooth,
smooth as a pebble
polished in the depth of the rain
Carried by the winds of grace
On the wings of a dove
So shine, shine like diamond
reflect the light of One
From the Source we are set to the center
As the moon reflects the sun
Arise and awake from your slumber
Kindle ancient flames
As witness to the waves of what's to change
Though the essence remains the same
All eyes a-gaze
All fades away
All finds a way
All lies within
My new friend loves singing Shimshai songs. She has been a raw foodist longer than I have been an adult. She's traveled further and longer than I can imagine and has a wealth of stories that make me feel unexperienced, young, eager to learn and grow. She loves real chocolate, making raw foods for people, playing music, dancing, hiking in nature, and never goes anywhere without her dog. And she is part of a community of people who are like her - and like me. I don't stand out anymore, I fit in. For the first time in my life, I really fit into a community. I have come home to my tribe.
I hear my own thoughts uttered as I walk down the street. Snippets of conversation float through the air and catch my attention left and right:
"-best way to transition into raw, cause right now I am only about 70% but I've been including some superfoods, like-"
"-I think it's a cleansing reaction I've been going through, have you heard of these herbs-"
"-either the drum circle tonight or we could go to the dance-"
"-best place to go foraging, my favorite wild greens are-"
"-this energy healing session, it's based on the concept that-"
I need to start getting used to this new reality. If I keep turning my head every time I hear a conversation that fascinates me, I'll need a chiropractor soon. I keep joining conversations - at the health food store, on the street, at Cafe Gratitude. "What Are You Grateful For?" the bowls and plates as the cafe read. Well, how much time do you have? I know it's not a rhetorical question, not at Cafe Gratitude, but if I don't treat it as one, I might as well start sleeping at the cafe. I want to order every item on the menu, all at once - I Am Abundant, I Am Grateful, I Am Bliss, can I just order I Am All Of The Above? Do I really get to live in a place where I can go eat layered cream cakes and chocolate ice cream sandwiches that are 100% raw, vegan, healthy, and are named I Am Delighted and I Am Rapture?
My other friend shares my sentiments. Our stories are similar and sometimes when I look at him I feel like I am looking in a mirror. He speaks my thoughts before I ever had a chance to formulate them in my own head. He uses words I coined for myself, phrases I thought I made up - and they means the same thing to him that they mean to me. We both know what a raw chocolate hangover is and we have the same understanding of sacredness. I interrupt myself often because I am so used to explaining myself. I am new to this community where I am so easily understood. My standard disclaimer is "if I start laughing, don't think I am laughing AT you, it's just that I am so stoked to be having this conversation."
Saturday night I went from spontaneous bursts of laughter to crying. After climbing back up the cliff by moon light, lying on a blanket at the stop gazing at the starts and dreaming up visions of the future, I went to a Kirtan with my two new friends. I felt like I was back at Beloved Festival, only this was not a festival, this was a regular event in my home town. I chanted my mantra "I live here" and overflowed with gratitude - literally, tears streaming down my face. Overwhelmed fell asleep in the arms of my new cuddle partner.
Yesterday my fellow oompa loompa and I took the ferry to the city, walked down Haight Street, gazed down upon San Francisco from Twin Peaks, danced to the drums at the 4-20 circle in Golden Gate park, met an old friend from Santa Cruz, and ate at the original Cafe Gratitude in the mission district. We were served by the same waiter who asked me what my dreams for the future were last summer. Back then I told him that some day I would love to live in the bay area and work in the raw food world. Neither he nor I imagined I'd be back 6 months later, living in Marin county and working with Sacred Chocolate.
"I live here" - that is the mantra I chant when I start to get into overdrive and try seeing everything and meeting everyone all at once. "This is just the beginning" is my other mantra. I chant that when I encounter the exhaustion of being mother to this precious new life of mine. My new friend loaned me a vitamix, my roommate a bicycle, I am learning my way around, and one by one more pieces of the puzzle falling into place. I am in the midst of a whirlwind of change, a dozen new paths appearing, a dozen new choices, a dozen new opportunities, a dozen new impressions.
It is a new life, a new world. Sometimes I feel like it must be some avatar experiencing this, not my old self. I cracked a joke about the only thing missing being the glowing mushrooms of Pandora. The next day I was given directions to a part of Fairfax where glowing mushrooms grow. Maybe this is Pandora. Maybe this is just a dream. But this I know for sure: If this a Pandoran Dream, I don't ever want to wake up. Ever!
I find myself wondering if I have landed on Pandora. For the past week it's been hard to go to sleep - the irresponsible amount of chocolate I am consuming is a contributing factor, but there is also a secret fear that keeps me up late - the fear of going to sleep and then waking up and realizing that it was all just a dream. That I am back on earth, with healthy legs but without the wings I've been fletching and testing since I got here.
Two nights ago I stood on the edge of a cliff in the silver hues of the full moon watching the waves crash upon the shore far beneath me. I felt a lightness in my soul, I raised my arms, I laughed loudly, and if my feet had left the ground and I had started flying over the rugged peaks and foaming surf I would not have been startled. But I descended the cliff more slowly, the traditional way, looking for solid footing on a gravelly steep path. On the way down I passed groups of beautiful hippies sitting together, talking, laughing, singing, snuggling.
At the bottom of the cliff I looked in wide-eyed wonder into a sulfury hot spring accessible only during the lowest tide at full moon. Winter storms had tossed boulders into the spring and the tide was already coming back in, dumping cold ocean water into the warm spring. My baptism into this new reality had to be postponed but disappointment found no place in my heart on a night like this. I sat on a rock with two beautiful new friends, snuggled close to one while the other began singing to the rhythm of the incoming tide. I was almost too happy to sing, always on the verge of laughter, but then I joined her in singing my deepest heart song, MY song, a song I introduced to other before, but never before has anyone sung it to me. God only knows how much it meant to me that she chose this particular song:
Pure, pure like the water
Let it run forever more
To be clean, clean as the waves
comes crashing to the shore
It leave me smooth,
smooth as a pebble
polished in the depth of the rain
Carried by the winds of grace
On the wings of a dove
So shine, shine like diamond
reflect the light of One
From the Source we are set to the center
As the moon reflects the sun
Arise and awake from your slumber
Kindle ancient flames
As witness to the waves of what's to change
Though the essence remains the same
All eyes a-gaze
All fades away
All finds a way
All lies within
My new friend loves singing Shimshai songs. She has been a raw foodist longer than I have been an adult. She's traveled further and longer than I can imagine and has a wealth of stories that make me feel unexperienced, young, eager to learn and grow. She loves real chocolate, making raw foods for people, playing music, dancing, hiking in nature, and never goes anywhere without her dog. And she is part of a community of people who are like her - and like me. I don't stand out anymore, I fit in. For the first time in my life, I really fit into a community. I have come home to my tribe.
I hear my own thoughts uttered as I walk down the street. Snippets of conversation float through the air and catch my attention left and right:
"-best way to transition into raw, cause right now I am only about 70% but I've been including some superfoods, like-"
"-I think it's a cleansing reaction I've been going through, have you heard of these herbs-"
"-either the drum circle tonight or we could go to the dance-"
"-best place to go foraging, my favorite wild greens are-"
"-this energy healing session, it's based on the concept that-"
I need to start getting used to this new reality. If I keep turning my head every time I hear a conversation that fascinates me, I'll need a chiropractor soon. I keep joining conversations - at the health food store, on the street, at Cafe Gratitude. "What Are You Grateful For?" the bowls and plates as the cafe read. Well, how much time do you have? I know it's not a rhetorical question, not at Cafe Gratitude, but if I don't treat it as one, I might as well start sleeping at the cafe. I want to order every item on the menu, all at once - I Am Abundant, I Am Grateful, I Am Bliss, can I just order I Am All Of The Above? Do I really get to live in a place where I can go eat layered cream cakes and chocolate ice cream sandwiches that are 100% raw, vegan, healthy, and are named I Am Delighted and I Am Rapture?
My other friend shares my sentiments. Our stories are similar and sometimes when I look at him I feel like I am looking in a mirror. He speaks my thoughts before I ever had a chance to formulate them in my own head. He uses words I coined for myself, phrases I thought I made up - and they means the same thing to him that they mean to me. We both know what a raw chocolate hangover is and we have the same understanding of sacredness. I interrupt myself often because I am so used to explaining myself. I am new to this community where I am so easily understood. My standard disclaimer is "if I start laughing, don't think I am laughing AT you, it's just that I am so stoked to be having this conversation."
Saturday night I went from spontaneous bursts of laughter to crying. After climbing back up the cliff by moon light, lying on a blanket at the stop gazing at the starts and dreaming up visions of the future, I went to a Kirtan with my two new friends. I felt like I was back at Beloved Festival, only this was not a festival, this was a regular event in my home town. I chanted my mantra "I live here" and overflowed with gratitude - literally, tears streaming down my face. Overwhelmed fell asleep in the arms of my new cuddle partner.
Yesterday my fellow oompa loompa and I took the ferry to the city, walked down Haight Street, gazed down upon San Francisco from Twin Peaks, danced to the drums at the 4-20 circle in Golden Gate park, met an old friend from Santa Cruz, and ate at the original Cafe Gratitude in the mission district. We were served by the same waiter who asked me what my dreams for the future were last summer. Back then I told him that some day I would love to live in the bay area and work in the raw food world. Neither he nor I imagined I'd be back 6 months later, living in Marin county and working with Sacred Chocolate.
"I live here" - that is the mantra I chant when I start to get into overdrive and try seeing everything and meeting everyone all at once. "This is just the beginning" is my other mantra. I chant that when I encounter the exhaustion of being mother to this precious new life of mine. My new friend loaned me a vitamix, my roommate a bicycle, I am learning my way around, and one by one more pieces of the puzzle falling into place. I am in the midst of a whirlwind of change, a dozen new paths appearing, a dozen new choices, a dozen new opportunities, a dozen new impressions.
It is a new life, a new world. Sometimes I feel like it must be some avatar experiencing this, not my old self. I cracked a joke about the only thing missing being the glowing mushrooms of Pandora. The next day I was given directions to a part of Fairfax where glowing mushrooms grow. Maybe this is Pandora. Maybe this is just a dream. But this I know for sure: If this a Pandoran Dream, I don't ever want to wake up. Ever!
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Giving birth - at home
2010 came and a new era of my life began. On December 31st a number of fabulous raw foodies and friends braved the harsh winter conditions and gathered at my place. We made food, ate food, made more food, talked about food, and ate more food. Just before midnight we piled into three cars and drove out to the Green Lake where Feuerwelt was held. The Artificial Family had put out some dry firewood for us and despite the rain we found a nice dry place under a hut and made a fire.
2010 started with the most beautiful new year's celebration I have ever experienced. Instead of blasting off fireworks we held hands in a circle, sang a rainbow song, ohmed together, and prayed and meditated into the new year as a community. I played worship songs on the guitar next to the fire, we sang together, talked together, laughed together, and ate Durian and Chocolate together.
I spent my first night of 2010 snuggled between almost a dozen wonderful people and woke up to the loving touch of more than one friend. The first day of the new year was spent making more food, picking up more people from the train station, giving and receiving more love. Then came the day of the party, which was by far the most awesome party I have ever hosted. If you were there I won't spoil it by trying to squeeze our experience into words, and if you were not, I'd only make you sad if I told you what you missed.
With only a few more days to go before my trip to the US I spent a lot of time in introspection. A wonderful new friend stayed with me for almost an entire week and walked me through processing many of my new impressions and realizations. A few days before departure I got very emotional and cried a lot. I was starting to feel birthing pains, sadness at leaving beloved ones behind and anxiety at what was to come. The last couple of days before my flight was marked by conflicts and I spent a lot of energy resolving those. More birthing pains that were painful, naturally, but also very empowering.
All through my journey to California I regarded each hiccup as a birthing pain. And hiccups I did encounter. First I got to the airport way too early, so that I had to wait 2 1/2 hours before I was even allowed to go through the security check. I worked on one of my naturopathy courses but soon realized that the course I had chosen was a very short one and by the time I boarded the plane, I had finished the course and was completely out of reading materials. I was going to buy an mp3 player the night before but couldn't because the roads were iced over. Now I was on the plane with no reading materials and no music. The onboard entertainment options were dismal, the music a collection of the worst that is out there, and there was only one movie being shown that involved a lot of detailed information on how to cook meat.
Birthing pains, a painfully boring flight it was going to be. I tried sleeping, but couldn't. I read through the airline's magazine twice. Conversation with my neighbor was impossible because he was completely drunk, lolling his head back and forth, reeking like beer, mumbling "it's all shit. That's shit, too. Oh.. uhuh... shit. All shit.... uhuh.. shit, it's all shit" for hours on end. The plane didn't take off like scheduled because of some mechanical problem that caused a two hour delay.
But there were beautiful moments as well. I was trying to take it all in stride, they were but birthing pains, things not going smoothly only in the beginning on my way to a new life. The sun never set and that felt symbolically significant. It dipped low on the horizon as we were flying over Iceland, bathing glaciers into an orange glow, casting shadows over the snowy mountain peeks of Greenland, and illuminating giant ice sheets and ice bergs floating on the ocean. It rose higher again as we descended south over Canadian fjords and turquoise mountain streams. Eventually Salt Lake city appeared beneath us with crystal white surfaces and sparkling city lights just before the most magnificent sight of all that brought tears to my eyes: Bryce canyon covered in snow! My parents have a poster of Bryce Canyon in winter, orange and red rock formations topped with brilliant white snowy caps.
Las Vegas sparkled behind canyons and stunning desert colors, reflecting a warm winter sun. "Welcome home" I was told at the US customs check point. Smiles greeted me and even Arwen received a warm welcome by the agricultural control agent. So far, so smooth. I took Arwen out into the sun and soaked up temperatures in the 60s and bright sunshine. At the Las Vegas airport I treated myself to a green smoothie, very excited that it is possible to buy a green smoothie at an airport! It reminded me why I moved back to the States.
We flew over Las Vegas and I felt like I was on a tourist flight in a helicopter looking at all the fountains and the roller coaster and all the craziness of Las Vegas. As soon as we reached cruising altitude I fell asleep for about half an hour. When I woke up, both my hands were asleep since I had tucked them under and I could neither figure out where I was nor why everyone was speaking English. By the time I landed in San Francisco I was almost incoherent, which just so happened to be the online dictionary's word of the day.
Juliana picked me up at the bus stop with organic veggies and spring water. No need to explain that I don't drink tap water or would love to eat something fresh and juicy after my travel ordeals. San Rafael's freeway entrance pillars were painted blue with big sunflowers and I knew I was in the right place. It took some time to find the right apartment number and when I walked into my new home, I was shocked to find that it was extremely dirty, cigarette butts on the floor, a stale smell in the air. Birthing pains once again. I figured I might have to move again soon. Even if I cleaned the place, if the roommates are willing to live like this, I don't think we can share the same space.
I woke up in the middle of the night - stupid jet lag - and then again with the sunrise. I looked out the window through the branches of a huge magnolia tree! I can't wait to see what this place is going to look like in the spring. The sun was rising behind a mountain and casting shadows upon redwood trees and a eucalyptus tree. I was wide awake and excited!
First I did some cleaning. The apartment turned out to be much larger than I thought and really cool! If it wasn't for the filth, I'd really enjoy living here. Then I took myself for a walk to try and get a cell phone signal. I had to walk for more than half a mile and started crying along the way - because I couldn't believe how beautiful this place was. The air smelled fantastic! A perfect mixture of eucalyptus, redwoods, and a third plant I couldn't identify for quite some time: cannabis. I took one deep breath after another, I felt like the air was charged with freshness and positive energy. I was stoked to find a creek running parallel to my street and several redwood groves along the way. Half a mile down I saw a small waterfall, ate some wild dandelion and chickweed and kept thinking of Santa Cruz and just how much I was starting to love this place.
I spent my first day shopping with Juliana. We talked about raw foods, chocolate, her travels, and mine. I absolutely loved listening to someone who has been around as much and even more than I have and who has far more experienced in the world of raw foods. And I fell in love with Fairfax! The town is nestled in the hills covered by sequoias and the natural beauty of the mountains encircles the little downtown area. We went shopping at Good Earth, an awesome health food store and I stood in front of an entire isle (!) of raw foods, ogling raw breads, cookies, chips, brownies, candies, granolas, sauces, dips, etc. $100 later I was loaded down with fabulous foods and my favorite cleaning supplies, Dr. Bronner's and then some.
Then Juliana took me down to San Rafael to go thrift store shopping and I acquired a blanket, a bed sheet, a towel, and other little necessities. When we got back to the apartment I met a friend of my roommates who explained to me that the chaos in the house was due to a roommate "issue", a person who has since been kicked out. There had been some overlap and someone had already been hired to do a deep cleaning of the entire place. The more time I spent at the house, the more positive I felt that this was going to be home for a long while after all.
I went to bed at 10 pm happy to finally get a good night's sleep. But I woke up to the next birthing pain hiccup at 2 am. There was banging and drilling and shouting and barking in the house. Since I didn't know how severe the roommate "issue" had been I wasn't sure what to do. Who were all these people in the house? Were they old room mates getting their stuff or someone breaking in? I was about ready to call the girl that had come by earlier but then decided to take matters into my own hand. They were as surprised as I was, including the pit bull that was sitting in the living room. Thankfully they were friendly, apologized for waking me up, and said they'd come back the next day to move the rest of the roommate's stuff out.
I made saturday clean-up and exploration day, learned the bus system by getting on the wrong bus and enjoying a long scenic tour of Marin county. I stood in front of the home depot that was listed on google maps but had obviously been out of business for a long time, took the bus back to Fairfax and showed up at the hardware store 5 minutes after they closed. They were nice enough to open the doors again and let me buy a space heater. Probably the most painful birth pain hiccup had been the lack of a working heater in the house. I thanked the hardware store people a million and one times and danced down the road with my new heater, went back to the health food store and sat there people watching for half an hour.
Sunday I decided to make "meeting new friends" day. The roommate I have not yet met told me I could use her bike, so I bought a bike lock, fixed the broken chain, and rode off into town, rode right back to the hardware store for a third time to buy a rain jacket, and then "did" downtown Fairfax. I teared up several times while chanting my new favorite mantra: "I live here, I live here, I live here."
Downtown Fairfax is a conglomeration of just about everything I love: health food stores, coffee shops, hippy stores, thrift stores, used book stores, head shops, new age shops, redwood groves, and one smiling person after another. Not only do people smile in Fairfax, they make eye contact - purposely, consciously. I don't know how many people I ended up looking in the eyes that day, intensely, as if reading the other person and bypassing small talk by greeting each other's souls directly, through the window of the eye.
It started pouring and I was so overwhelmed with the beauty of my surroundings that I decided to ride to San Rafael and eat lunch at Cafe Gratitude. I was riding through a downpour, rain slapping me in the face, but I laughed. Maybe I needed the harsh weather conditions, as if the sky was constantly pinching me to tell me I was awake and this was real. I took the wrong turn and ended up on the other side of the mountain, having to push the bike all the way up Wolfe Grade to get back to San Rafael. I told someone later on and their eyes got wide, exclaiming that crossing over that pass was some serious workout!
By the time I finally reached Cafe Gratitude even my underwear was wet. Still, I didn't care, I felt wildely alive, having gone through another round of gratitude tears at the top of the mountain, looking down at my world. I came to the cafe with the intention of making friends and scanned the room for potential new friends. A girl on a couch immediately caught my eye and I asked if I could sit with her. I couldn't have chosen better. We connected right away, she has been a raw foodie for 11 years, used to be wealthy and successful in New York city but chose to move to the bay area, has become a Swami and lives like a monk. She is also a healer and a musician with a focus on music as worship, knows and loves Sacred Steve and Shimshai, wants to go to some secret hot springs with me and invited me to one fantastic happening after another.
She introduced me to another friend of hers who is a voice teacher and musician, also a long-term raw foodie, traveler, artist, and fascinating person to talk to. I ordered her favorite dish, raw tacos and they were without exaggeration the most beautiful and most tasty raw meal I have had to date. I wish I had had my camera, I hardly dared eating the food it was so beautiful. And it tasted like heaven. I almost started crying again. Had I died and gone to heaven?
My new friend gifted me delicious raw candy, gave me her address and left, but called 10 minutes later to let me know that she had already paid the waiter for my meal. Her friend gave me a big knowing smile, came over to hug me, and said he was looking forward to seeing me around and introducing me to the rest of the tribe. In Fairfax I talked to the owner of a little new age store and she asked me to remind Sacred Steve that she wanted to do a chocolate event with him. Then she looked me up and down and said: "or if he doesn't have the time, why don't you come and do a seminar for us?"
I went back to the health food store to buy water and food for Arwen. I knew I had to wait 45 minutes for the next bus and figured that was just the right time to make a new friend. As I looked around one girl struck me as positive and interesting and before I got a chance to talk to her she offered me a cookie and initiated conversation. She just moved to Fairfax herself and is looking for more friends.
I cried while I waited for the bus. I have never felt so at home in my life. I don't know this town, I don't know these people, but I feel like I am home, like I have been meant to be here my whole life. I am sure I will travel again, some day, but for now I just want to be here, I don't want to leave! Tomorrow I will meet Sacred Steve and find out what my life with Sacred Chocolate will look like. I am excited, I am also nervous! This is finally it, tomorrow will be the last day before I give birth to the "routine" of my new life. But for now I am overflowing with thankfulness because I love this town, I love these people, I love my life, I love finally feeling at home.
2010 started with the most beautiful new year's celebration I have ever experienced. Instead of blasting off fireworks we held hands in a circle, sang a rainbow song, ohmed together, and prayed and meditated into the new year as a community. I played worship songs on the guitar next to the fire, we sang together, talked together, laughed together, and ate Durian and Chocolate together.
I spent my first night of 2010 snuggled between almost a dozen wonderful people and woke up to the loving touch of more than one friend. The first day of the new year was spent making more food, picking up more people from the train station, giving and receiving more love. Then came the day of the party, which was by far the most awesome party I have ever hosted. If you were there I won't spoil it by trying to squeeze our experience into words, and if you were not, I'd only make you sad if I told you what you missed.
With only a few more days to go before my trip to the US I spent a lot of time in introspection. A wonderful new friend stayed with me for almost an entire week and walked me through processing many of my new impressions and realizations. A few days before departure I got very emotional and cried a lot. I was starting to feel birthing pains, sadness at leaving beloved ones behind and anxiety at what was to come. The last couple of days before my flight was marked by conflicts and I spent a lot of energy resolving those. More birthing pains that were painful, naturally, but also very empowering.
All through my journey to California I regarded each hiccup as a birthing pain. And hiccups I did encounter. First I got to the airport way too early, so that I had to wait 2 1/2 hours before I was even allowed to go through the security check. I worked on one of my naturopathy courses but soon realized that the course I had chosen was a very short one and by the time I boarded the plane, I had finished the course and was completely out of reading materials. I was going to buy an mp3 player the night before but couldn't because the roads were iced over. Now I was on the plane with no reading materials and no music. The onboard entertainment options were dismal, the music a collection of the worst that is out there, and there was only one movie being shown that involved a lot of detailed information on how to cook meat.
Birthing pains, a painfully boring flight it was going to be. I tried sleeping, but couldn't. I read through the airline's magazine twice. Conversation with my neighbor was impossible because he was completely drunk, lolling his head back and forth, reeking like beer, mumbling "it's all shit. That's shit, too. Oh.. uhuh... shit. All shit.... uhuh.. shit, it's all shit" for hours on end. The plane didn't take off like scheduled because of some mechanical problem that caused a two hour delay.
But there were beautiful moments as well. I was trying to take it all in stride, they were but birthing pains, things not going smoothly only in the beginning on my way to a new life. The sun never set and that felt symbolically significant. It dipped low on the horizon as we were flying over Iceland, bathing glaciers into an orange glow, casting shadows over the snowy mountain peeks of Greenland, and illuminating giant ice sheets and ice bergs floating on the ocean. It rose higher again as we descended south over Canadian fjords and turquoise mountain streams. Eventually Salt Lake city appeared beneath us with crystal white surfaces and sparkling city lights just before the most magnificent sight of all that brought tears to my eyes: Bryce canyon covered in snow! My parents have a poster of Bryce Canyon in winter, orange and red rock formations topped with brilliant white snowy caps.
Las Vegas sparkled behind canyons and stunning desert colors, reflecting a warm winter sun. "Welcome home" I was told at the US customs check point. Smiles greeted me and even Arwen received a warm welcome by the agricultural control agent. So far, so smooth. I took Arwen out into the sun and soaked up temperatures in the 60s and bright sunshine. At the Las Vegas airport I treated myself to a green smoothie, very excited that it is possible to buy a green smoothie at an airport! It reminded me why I moved back to the States.
We flew over Las Vegas and I felt like I was on a tourist flight in a helicopter looking at all the fountains and the roller coaster and all the craziness of Las Vegas. As soon as we reached cruising altitude I fell asleep for about half an hour. When I woke up, both my hands were asleep since I had tucked them under and I could neither figure out where I was nor why everyone was speaking English. By the time I landed in San Francisco I was almost incoherent, which just so happened to be the online dictionary's word of the day.
Juliana picked me up at the bus stop with organic veggies and spring water. No need to explain that I don't drink tap water or would love to eat something fresh and juicy after my travel ordeals. San Rafael's freeway entrance pillars were painted blue with big sunflowers and I knew I was in the right place. It took some time to find the right apartment number and when I walked into my new home, I was shocked to find that it was extremely dirty, cigarette butts on the floor, a stale smell in the air. Birthing pains once again. I figured I might have to move again soon. Even if I cleaned the place, if the roommates are willing to live like this, I don't think we can share the same space.
I woke up in the middle of the night - stupid jet lag - and then again with the sunrise. I looked out the window through the branches of a huge magnolia tree! I can't wait to see what this place is going to look like in the spring. The sun was rising behind a mountain and casting shadows upon redwood trees and a eucalyptus tree. I was wide awake and excited!
First I did some cleaning. The apartment turned out to be much larger than I thought and really cool! If it wasn't for the filth, I'd really enjoy living here. Then I took myself for a walk to try and get a cell phone signal. I had to walk for more than half a mile and started crying along the way - because I couldn't believe how beautiful this place was. The air smelled fantastic! A perfect mixture of eucalyptus, redwoods, and a third plant I couldn't identify for quite some time: cannabis. I took one deep breath after another, I felt like the air was charged with freshness and positive energy. I was stoked to find a creek running parallel to my street and several redwood groves along the way. Half a mile down I saw a small waterfall, ate some wild dandelion and chickweed and kept thinking of Santa Cruz and just how much I was starting to love this place.
I spent my first day shopping with Juliana. We talked about raw foods, chocolate, her travels, and mine. I absolutely loved listening to someone who has been around as much and even more than I have and who has far more experienced in the world of raw foods. And I fell in love with Fairfax! The town is nestled in the hills covered by sequoias and the natural beauty of the mountains encircles the little downtown area. We went shopping at Good Earth, an awesome health food store and I stood in front of an entire isle (!) of raw foods, ogling raw breads, cookies, chips, brownies, candies, granolas, sauces, dips, etc. $100 later I was loaded down with fabulous foods and my favorite cleaning supplies, Dr. Bronner's and then some.
Then Juliana took me down to San Rafael to go thrift store shopping and I acquired a blanket, a bed sheet, a towel, and other little necessities. When we got back to the apartment I met a friend of my roommates who explained to me that the chaos in the house was due to a roommate "issue", a person who has since been kicked out. There had been some overlap and someone had already been hired to do a deep cleaning of the entire place. The more time I spent at the house, the more positive I felt that this was going to be home for a long while after all.
I went to bed at 10 pm happy to finally get a good night's sleep. But I woke up to the next birthing pain hiccup at 2 am. There was banging and drilling and shouting and barking in the house. Since I didn't know how severe the roommate "issue" had been I wasn't sure what to do. Who were all these people in the house? Were they old room mates getting their stuff or someone breaking in? I was about ready to call the girl that had come by earlier but then decided to take matters into my own hand. They were as surprised as I was, including the pit bull that was sitting in the living room. Thankfully they were friendly, apologized for waking me up, and said they'd come back the next day to move the rest of the roommate's stuff out.
I made saturday clean-up and exploration day, learned the bus system by getting on the wrong bus and enjoying a long scenic tour of Marin county. I stood in front of the home depot that was listed on google maps but had obviously been out of business for a long time, took the bus back to Fairfax and showed up at the hardware store 5 minutes after they closed. They were nice enough to open the doors again and let me buy a space heater. Probably the most painful birth pain hiccup had been the lack of a working heater in the house. I thanked the hardware store people a million and one times and danced down the road with my new heater, went back to the health food store and sat there people watching for half an hour.
Sunday I decided to make "meeting new friends" day. The roommate I have not yet met told me I could use her bike, so I bought a bike lock, fixed the broken chain, and rode off into town, rode right back to the hardware store for a third time to buy a rain jacket, and then "did" downtown Fairfax. I teared up several times while chanting my new favorite mantra: "I live here, I live here, I live here."
Downtown Fairfax is a conglomeration of just about everything I love: health food stores, coffee shops, hippy stores, thrift stores, used book stores, head shops, new age shops, redwood groves, and one smiling person after another. Not only do people smile in Fairfax, they make eye contact - purposely, consciously. I don't know how many people I ended up looking in the eyes that day, intensely, as if reading the other person and bypassing small talk by greeting each other's souls directly, through the window of the eye.
It started pouring and I was so overwhelmed with the beauty of my surroundings that I decided to ride to San Rafael and eat lunch at Cafe Gratitude. I was riding through a downpour, rain slapping me in the face, but I laughed. Maybe I needed the harsh weather conditions, as if the sky was constantly pinching me to tell me I was awake and this was real. I took the wrong turn and ended up on the other side of the mountain, having to push the bike all the way up Wolfe Grade to get back to San Rafael. I told someone later on and their eyes got wide, exclaiming that crossing over that pass was some serious workout!
By the time I finally reached Cafe Gratitude even my underwear was wet. Still, I didn't care, I felt wildely alive, having gone through another round of gratitude tears at the top of the mountain, looking down at my world. I came to the cafe with the intention of making friends and scanned the room for potential new friends. A girl on a couch immediately caught my eye and I asked if I could sit with her. I couldn't have chosen better. We connected right away, she has been a raw foodie for 11 years, used to be wealthy and successful in New York city but chose to move to the bay area, has become a Swami and lives like a monk. She is also a healer and a musician with a focus on music as worship, knows and loves Sacred Steve and Shimshai, wants to go to some secret hot springs with me and invited me to one fantastic happening after another.
She introduced me to another friend of hers who is a voice teacher and musician, also a long-term raw foodie, traveler, artist, and fascinating person to talk to. I ordered her favorite dish, raw tacos and they were without exaggeration the most beautiful and most tasty raw meal I have had to date. I wish I had had my camera, I hardly dared eating the food it was so beautiful. And it tasted like heaven. I almost started crying again. Had I died and gone to heaven?
My new friend gifted me delicious raw candy, gave me her address and left, but called 10 minutes later to let me know that she had already paid the waiter for my meal. Her friend gave me a big knowing smile, came over to hug me, and said he was looking forward to seeing me around and introducing me to the rest of the tribe. In Fairfax I talked to the owner of a little new age store and she asked me to remind Sacred Steve that she wanted to do a chocolate event with him. Then she looked me up and down and said: "or if he doesn't have the time, why don't you come and do a seminar for us?"
I went back to the health food store to buy water and food for Arwen. I knew I had to wait 45 minutes for the next bus and figured that was just the right time to make a new friend. As I looked around one girl struck me as positive and interesting and before I got a chance to talk to her she offered me a cookie and initiated conversation. She just moved to Fairfax herself and is looking for more friends.
I cried while I waited for the bus. I have never felt so at home in my life. I don't know this town, I don't know these people, but I feel like I am home, like I have been meant to be here my whole life. I am sure I will travel again, some day, but for now I just want to be here, I don't want to leave! Tomorrow I will meet Sacred Steve and find out what my life with Sacred Chocolate will look like. I am excited, I am also nervous! This is finally it, tomorrow will be the last day before I give birth to the "routine" of my new life. But for now I am overflowing with thankfulness because I love this town, I love these people, I love my life, I love finally feeling at home.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
ultrasound results
In keeping with the pregnancy metaphor, the results of the ultrasound are in. It's pretty late in my metaphorical pregnancy, considering that I am in my 8th month, due in 30 days, but up until now I was not sure of the gender of that baby. Now I know. As predicted by my friend's prophetic dream, it's a little American baby boy. He is aptly named after my middle name Frances, which is derived from St. Francis of Assissi. Since we are not talking about a literal baby but a new life for myself, his name is not Francis, nor Francesco, but San Francisco.
30 days from now I will be starting a new life - in San Francisco. I love Portland and I will miss all of my beautiful friends there, but San Francisco it is. The news came in on Sunday, right in time for the chocolate workshop. Within the last 2 months I have really been finding my passion. Since translating for David Wolfe I have been doing a lot of soul-searching to find what exactly it is I want to do with my future, and I kept coming back to chocolate.
Chocolate is sacred. I can easily spend a 2 hour workshop talking about chocolate while whipping up samples. The first chocolate workshop I did here in Germany I did with zero preparation, no notes, no concept, and found that I was completely in my zen place. I love chocolate alchemy. And just when I found my passion and my superhero name, Chocolate Rainbow Warrior, I was also given my superhero assignment: Sacred Chocolate in San Francisco.
So, that's the metaphorical baby that's been growing inside of me. I am excited to meet it and see what this new life is going to look like. I know so little yet but I can't wait to nurture and grow my passion and love. Only 30 days until birth!
30 days from now I will be starting a new life - in San Francisco. I love Portland and I will miss all of my beautiful friends there, but San Francisco it is. The news came in on Sunday, right in time for the chocolate workshop. Within the last 2 months I have really been finding my passion. Since translating for David Wolfe I have been doing a lot of soul-searching to find what exactly it is I want to do with my future, and I kept coming back to chocolate.
Chocolate is sacred. I can easily spend a 2 hour workshop talking about chocolate while whipping up samples. The first chocolate workshop I did here in Germany I did with zero preparation, no notes, no concept, and found that I was completely in my zen place. I love chocolate alchemy. And just when I found my passion and my superhero name, Chocolate Rainbow Warrior, I was also given my superhero assignment: Sacred Chocolate in San Francisco.
So, that's the metaphorical baby that's been growing inside of me. I am excited to meet it and see what this new life is going to look like. I know so little yet but I can't wait to nurture and grow my passion and love. Only 30 days until birth!
Tuesday, December 08, 2009
roots & branches
"I am not interested in raw foods," the lady who owns the local health food store told me. I had invited her to my chocolate workshop. "It's too difficult, you know? There are so many nutrients and minerals that you can only get if you cook the food. It's too much work to find all the necessary supplements to make up for eating food raw."
There are people you can reason with, and those you can't. She seemed to be of the latter sort, so I simply replied: "I don't just do raw foods, I also do superfoods and-" She interrupted me: "oh, that's just some crazy American thing, we don't need any of that over here."
There are many things I love about Germany: obviously and first of all my family and friends, German culture. I love the energy of places that have been around for ages and have seen centuries, even millennia of human history. I love the revival of medieval culture, mythology, art. I am happy about the level of environmental consciousness as opposed to the lack thereof in the US. I appreciate the preservation of ancient ways of living, a more sustainable infrastructure, etc...
Basically, I love German roots. My family roots, my cultural roots, and Germany's historical roots. There is a fundamentally different energy in places that have roots. I feel like places have memory, like the energy of historical events lingers and gives those places a depth that makes you feel grounded and connected to the past. I love that about medieval events held at medieval castles, castle grounds that have hosted human drama, wars, weddings, deaths, births, love - all that is human life -for generation after generation.
Germany's roots run deeper, stronger, and richer than those of the hodgepodge culture of the US. But there is a flip side. Germany is so deeply rooted that it has difficulty branching out. It does not like stretching into new realms, trying out new things. Germans are more set in their ways. While the US lacks a certain groundedness, change is far more easily accepted. It is no wonder the hippy movement started in the US. And to this day, California, the West Coast, the US is known for new ideas, new developments, new movements.
And that is why I am moving back to the US. No, I am not an American patriot, I do not stand behind US politics of invasion and dominion, environmental degradation, and whatnot. But neither do I agree with everything the German government does, and above all, politics are fairly irrelevant to my choice of home. I live and breathe an alternative way of life that is so far removed from the sphere of "normal" politics and society that it matters little wether I live my life on the margins of the German or American society.
I am coming up on having spent a full year in Germany. I had to go back to my roots after the ground erupted beneath me in what seemed like my personal Armageddon. I survived and realized my divorce was not the end of the world, quite the opposite, it was the earthquake that was breaking the ground for a new life. I am in my 8th month of metaphorical pregnancy, carrying this new life and mission within me. It's been kicking quite a bit and many of you have had the chance to touch and feel what is about to be birthed.
The time is coming to shift from my focus on my roots to an exploration of my branches. I am ready to branch out, stretch myself high into the sky, and try out new things. In order to do that I am moving to the country that is more supportive of my branches. That does not mean I am cutting my roots. But I am ready to test how strong my roots are and let them support me as I branch out further and higher, reaching to the sky, as ambitious as a sequoia.
There are people you can reason with, and those you can't. She seemed to be of the latter sort, so I simply replied: "I don't just do raw foods, I also do superfoods and-" She interrupted me: "oh, that's just some crazy American thing, we don't need any of that over here."
There are many things I love about Germany: obviously and first of all my family and friends, German culture. I love the energy of places that have been around for ages and have seen centuries, even millennia of human history. I love the revival of medieval culture, mythology, art. I am happy about the level of environmental consciousness as opposed to the lack thereof in the US. I appreciate the preservation of ancient ways of living, a more sustainable infrastructure, etc...Basically, I love German roots. My family roots, my cultural roots, and Germany's historical roots. There is a fundamentally different energy in places that have roots. I feel like places have memory, like the energy of historical events lingers and gives those places a depth that makes you feel grounded and connected to the past. I love that about medieval events held at medieval castles, castle grounds that have hosted human drama, wars, weddings, deaths, births, love - all that is human life -for generation after generation.
Germany's roots run deeper, stronger, and richer than those of the hodgepodge culture of the US. But there is a flip side. Germany is so deeply rooted that it has difficulty branching out. It does not like stretching into new realms, trying out new things. Germans are more set in their ways. While the US lacks a certain groundedness, change is far more easily accepted. It is no wonder the hippy movement started in the US. And to this day, California, the West Coast, the US is known for new ideas, new developments, new movements.
And that is why I am moving back to the US. No, I am not an American patriot, I do not stand behind US politics of invasion and dominion, environmental degradation, and whatnot. But neither do I agree with everything the German government does, and above all, politics are fairly irrelevant to my choice of home. I live and breathe an alternative way of life that is so far removed from the sphere of "normal" politics and society that it matters little wether I live my life on the margins of the German or American society.
I am coming up on having spent a full year in Germany. I had to go back to my roots after the ground erupted beneath me in what seemed like my personal Armageddon. I survived and realized my divorce was not the end of the world, quite the opposite, it was the earthquake that was breaking the ground for a new life. I am in my 8th month of metaphorical pregnancy, carrying this new life and mission within me. It's been kicking quite a bit and many of you have had the chance to touch and feel what is about to be birthed.
The time is coming to shift from my focus on my roots to an exploration of my branches. I am ready to branch out, stretch myself high into the sky, and try out new things. In order to do that I am moving to the country that is more supportive of my branches. That does not mean I am cutting my roots. But I am ready to test how strong my roots are and let them support me as I branch out further and higher, reaching to the sky, as ambitious as a sequoia.
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