the old-school guestbook archives
my amazon wish list... my favorite astrologer... my favorite artist... yerba mate revolution! erowid: a travel guide for interior journeys... no more war: MoveOn.org United for Peace and Justice True Majority seek the truth: Common Dreams Unamerican Activities The Nation people I adore, diaries I read: rev.raikes ariana cubiclegirl epiphany glitter333 laurakay wammo the music: the asylum street spankers backyard tire fire blue highway bill camplin wendy colonna freedom tribe joules graves guy forsyth band hamsa lila hanuman libby kirkpatrick leftover salmon pamela means medeski martin & wood the motet the nice outfit nickel creek open road rose polenzani railroad earth south austin jug band string cheese incident taarka tha musemeant the devil makes three tim o'brien band trolley wild sage keller williams yonder mountain string band |
dragonflies, mountainsides, sweet love and home ~ November 16, 2001 - 1:14 a.m. it's been too long again... where do I begin? ever called. ever called and my chest just opened, I was flooded with all the feelings that have been lying dormant somewhere in my heart during the some several months it's been since we've seen each other last. I knew that he'd reach out again when he was ready. after a long and lovely conversation with him, I walked into the kitchen where ariana was doing dishes and just started crying, a good crying, just overflowing with being able to feel so much again. ariana put her arms around me and let my tears soak her skin, as she's done so many times. I encourage you to spend time with this one, she said, he has such a positive effect on your spirit. and it's true. he does that. and then. and then andre had to ask me to leave. and it was hard. hard for her because she loves me and doesn't want to hurt me. hard for me because it brought up so many feelings-- realizing, again, that I have no home, that I have had no home for over a year now. and while I've chosen this life, traded the road for security, sometimes you just want to know that you can go somewhere and be safe. be home. she explained to me that she had to study for this physics exam, and that the energy of an extra person in the house was feeling like a distraction-- and I was almost fine with it, really, I was going to leave in the morning anyway-- and then she said something about night driving and I realized that she was asking me to leave right then. that night. and everything just fell apart inside me. too late, that night, too dark to brave the twisting mountain roads to mount madonna. too late, that night, to find my ever. and where else could I go? so. I went back to san jose. which wound up being good, in spite of my not feeling ready to go back. to the house, to ozone. not ready, but it worked. we talked well; I put the rose that andre gave me into water. the nicest rose from the bush in the yard. because. so I spent a day and a half or so in san jose, talking to ozone, watching too much tv. and then I rode my motorcycle up the mountain and found ever. our connection as easy and ready as if we had never left it. the community up there, as beautiful as I remembered. so beautiful it made me ache. I may go back there, to spend real time. to practice yoga and live in a community that nourishes me. ever is moving out; a big transition. I spent two days with him, catching up with time. feeling, again, what it's like when everything comes naturally. where everything isn't a struggle. today I woke up from strange dreams, and went down to the garden to work in the dirt, planting lettuce. grounding. I love to garden, and I never do it except when I'm up at mount madonna. and then tea with babaji, a ritual in the community, and then I got back on my bike, kissed ever goodbye, and came back. back to san jose. back to ozone. as much as we struggle, this journey of ours isn't over yet. somehow I know this. and we've been talking, and talking, and talking. and we went down to santa cruz, ate at my new favorite vegetarian cafe, lobeliu(?) I still can never seem to fix the syllables in my head. it's the spanish word for dragonfly. and it's wonderful. everyone should go there, should keep the place alive. and then we went to borders and sat in the cushy chairs reading comics, and then we went to well within, a hot tub place, and soaked and drank tea. and came home. I can call it that, I guess. it'll do for now. as robert frost said, and leo buscaglia loved to quote: home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in. enough for now.
(((rings))) |