I realized (finally) just two days ago that whether we speak Spanish or they speak English is not so important. It is whether we can communicate. There are many ways to communicate beyond words. The other evening I was in the dentist office waiting for my appointment. (Yes, I am taking the opportunity to have some affordable care—shame on the US systems.) Anyway, I was sitting there with a couple and their little boy. We all stayed in our own “space” which I recognize as the way around here. I happened to have some Bead People and the Spanish version of the little Wind book because I was planning to give the dentist and his assistant one. The boy (may 8 or 9) had music in his head. He was clapping his knees and snapping his fingers to a tune only he could hear. His parents were trying to quiet him—although he was not bothering me at all. I opened my little magic box and showed him The Bead People and indicated that he should pick one out. Quanto Cuesta? he asked. How much? His father spoke some English so I told him it was a gift. The parents got excited about my little peace people and we “talked”. It was so much fun and the little boy was smiling ear to ear as he picked out his new friend. You can imagine how surprised I was when the reserved space around us just disappeared instantly. When they left, the boy came and kissed my cheek. Then the mother came and kissed my cheek. Then the father came and kissed the back of my hand. I was so touched by their generous spirits. It was then that I realized I should not be afraid to try communicating—that there are many ways to connect without the correct words.

Since then I have been braver about trying to connect. I dislike feeling like just one more American who cares only about my own needs.

Yesterday was Milt’s birthday so we ventured outside of Tulum and went south along the coast. We saw an archeological site marking so we went in and saw the most amazing Mayan ruins. We were literally the only people there except for three men taking care of the place. We wandered and climbed and took pictures and totally enjoyed ourselves. I wish I could feel more of the spirit of the place. I think the ghosts have long since gone on

Later we picked up our laundry in Tulum and had a nice supper along the main drive. I let our waiter know that it was Milt’s Birthday (I had to sing Happy Birthday to you for him to understand.) After we had our meal he brought us two shots of Tequila and salt with limes. I had some instant flashbacks to early times of my life—crazy twenties in Juarez, etc.—but it was fun to throw back the tequila and bite into that lime. Muchos muy bien.

So, it is good to get thrown out of our comfort zones sometimes and be forced to risk getting to know people from other cultures. I’m having a great time and sleeping like a baby at night. I am not getting as much as a water fix as I had expected but the beaches are so crowded and I prefer our small villages, the ruins, and an occasional Cenote. I’ll have to post a cenote story later—think deep, crystalline, freshwater pools, fallen caves, stalactites (or are they stalagmites?) and images of underwater monsters. I do love my prescription goggles!

I’m not good at sitting still–not good at vacating.  Since I was fifteen and got my first job in a cafe, I’ve worked.   Actually, with five younger brothers, I thnk I itook a job so young because it seemed easier than working at home.  Besides, they actually paid me to work in the cafe.

I like to be in motion, engaged, entertained by my busy brain.  If my brain is not busy, my hands and body are.  It could be an issue of self-worth.  Robert Fritz, the author of The Path of Least Resistance, once said in a seminar that I attended that some of us have a basic issue of worth–we feel that if we are not doing for others, we don’t deserve to be here.  It is a core, core, core belief that comes from who knows where.  I may have just a hint of that issue. 

I have noticed that when there is a lull in activity, my brain tends to slide toward depression and feeling good for nothing.   Winter months make me especially vulnerable.  Getting engaged and busy again is my solution to that. 

It would probably be good for me to vacate for two weeks–just not sure that I can actually do that or what it would be like.  At least I do have the goal of learning and practicing some Spanish.  It is also our plan to visit the Mayan Ruins and spend time in the water.  Last summer I bought a prescription swim mask and it is tucked into the bottom of my suitcase.  It is so great to be underwater and be able to actually see something.   

We have to be on the airport van at 4:00 am so . . . I’ll let you know how my vacate goes.

Adios, mi amigos.

(If you want to get weekly posts in your email, just subscribe to No Ordinary Life by adding your email below. Your privacy is safe with me.

Jamie

At the end of the month I’m giving a talk in Pine River, MN for an event called Back to Basics.  The title of my talk is “Dreaming a New World . . . Together.”   I’ve been working on my ideas for the talk and keep stumbling across an interesting thing.  Naturally, I want to dump everything I think I know into a 40 minute talk.  The thing wants to become a book, but what I noticed most is the difference in the energy between what I think I know and what I want to know. 

It sounds confusing, but I want to explore it.  When I’m speaking or writing as somebody who “knows” it can’t help but become some kind of preachy thing that sounds like somebody just stepped up on a soapbox.  Pontificating from on high.   And then, every once in awhile, I fall into something that I am simply yearning to know.  I honestly want to know “who I am” and “why am I here.”  I want to understand the brain and how it sends us flying around.  I want to know why people make war.  This urge to know pushes me forward, it jerks me around, it turns me upside down, it makes me want to go numb and not think anymore.  The funny thing is that THAT energy is so much more alive than the energy of “knowing.” 

I remember one time while staying at an ashram in the Catskills, we were taking a course on how to deepen our spiritual practices.  A wonderful teacher was running a talking circle and asking each one of us why we had come to this particular course.  One woman in the group told the instructor that she “wanted to be surrounded in the white spiritual energy . . . blah blah blah.”  The instructor asked her again.  “Why are you here?”  She gave another little speech.  He asked a third time, and this time it must have cracked the surface of her thoughts.  She stopped and thought—really thought—about the question.  Finally, she said, almost haltingly and with such great force, “I came because I wanted to know God!”  Something must have hooked up to her very soul when she said that.  It raised the hair on my arms.  She had cut through the bullshit of her life.

I’m realizing more and more that we know very little—and that’s okay.  After having spent two weeks with kids and grandkids, it is so easy to think of all the ways they could be doing things differently.  Or on doing my New Year’s inventory, it is so easy to think of all the ways I could be doing things differently. Our urge is always to advise others—tell them what they could or should be doing.  In truth, we all come into each new day on our knees begging for understanding, for clarity, for wisdom and truth.  And this is the right way to greet each moment.  There is no time or need to judge others.  

What we have learned is not as important as what we still want to know.

If there was one ongoing and powerful thing you were trying to learn from this life, what would it be?  See if you can put it in a single sentence, and then stick it below in the comment box so we can share the journey with each other. Mine may just be the sentence above–or the ongoing pesky question I have of why do people need to separate and divide in order to find their sense of belonging?

 Note:  If you are local to northern MN, be sure to check out Back to Basics on January 28th.  There will be a bunch of cool hands-on workshops and talks—it’s going to be a lot of fun.  And as always, be sure to subscribe if you like my posts–and share with your friends.

This led me down an interesting path called Google Keyword Search.  I got so fascinated that I lost one whole work session just trying to see what people really care about—what do they ask?  I imagine people like you and me sitting in dim rooms late at night with our biggest questions looming and no one to ask them to. 

I can’t resist sharing this with you—so here is a fun test based on my actual keywords search.  Below is a list of phrases or questions and to the right is a list of numbers.  The numbers represent the numbers of people across the globe who have searched on this term in a single month.  I’ve mixed them up so you have to decide which figure belongs with which phrase.  Pretend it is a matching game like we used to do in elementary school.   I’ll give you the results below.

   Keywords                            Number

Who is God?                                6,120,000                                          

Global peace                                                91

How can I make money?               90,500

How can I change my life?             60,500

How can I change my life for the better?     55,600,000

How can I change my life for the better with no money?     1,600

How did you do?  I was particularly entertained by the last three that showed up one after the other.

This exercise was an eye-opener for me.  We tend to think the rest of the world thinks like we do—cares about the same things we do.  This is just not always true.  Our lives are constantly shaped by both the forces outside of us and the forces inside of us.  I like to think that we have more choice than we realize.  I’ve been accused (are you listening, Dana?) of being fairly optimistic about it all.  It isn’t that I am a true optimist—I just like to choose what to care about and try to let the small (or the overwhelming) things slide away.  I think this just may be the one thing that makes us humans different than the animals—we get to choose the direction of our thoughts. 

Here are the results of the test.  You’ll be happy to know that I am not grading you.   

Who is God?      55,600,000

Global peace       60,500

How can I make money?      6,120,000                                          

How can I change my life?     90,500

How can I change my life for the better?     1,600

How can I change my life for the better with no money?      91

So what did I learn from this?  I’ll still try to clean up the back rooms of my blog, but I care more about finding friends than followers, community rather than “traffic.”  I won’t find millions—but I’ll write to an audience of one.  I can’t seem to resist a pen and a blank page, and then I can’t seem to resist wanting to share it.  In the end, the best way for me to build my blog is just to ask you to share it with one other friend who thinks and wonders and asks the same questions that we do.  I’m content with that. 

On New Year’s morning I woke up and wrote these words, “Suppose that while you were sleeping, the world was made new.  There were no more wars, all bellies were full, and the water sources across the world ran clear and fresh.  It was now a world where people knew that to care about each other, the sky and the earth, the animals and the plants . . . was a sacred act.  And that was what had made the world new.” 

I am a foolish girl to imagine such a thing really happening—but a girl can dream. 

Oh, and on the day after Christmas I woke up and wrote these words.

                ‘Tis the day after Christmas

                 and all through the house

                are fat chubby beings,

                including the mouse.

Thought I would end on a light note.  Hope you are having a great beginning to this new year.   If you enjoy my bits and pieces, be sure to subscribe below with your email address or hit the RSS feed button at the top. 

My daughter Nichol cleared the living room of all furniture and taped smooth sheets over the carpet to make dancing easier. She died her blonde hair black and put on a brilliant tie-dye tee-shirt and denim skirt. Her husband Nate cued up the music for the evening and attached speakers to the computer. We blew up balloons. It was a small party, six adults and seven children from one year old to almost fourteen.

At 9:00 the lights went down, the bubble machine started pumping bubbles, and the disco ball flashed multi-colored lights across the floor and ceiling. And then we danced. And danced. And danced. Little Sophie (1 year old) learned to twirl her long skirt as she spun circles. Gavin (almost 14) taught me the line dance steps to Cotton eye Joe. The twins, Korah and Kelsey (young, slim pre-teens) sang and danced, their arms reaching for the ceiling. Jaaron was higher than a kite (on dancing—he’s 12) and the two three-year-olds were sweating and breathless.

Mommies and Daddies danced. Grandma and Grampa danced. At one point Brian turned his three-year-old into an air guitar—Kaden loved it!

Later Kaden told me, “This is the best day of my life.” (He says that nearly every day—I’ve adopted it as my mantra for 2012.)

At 10:00 we did the New Years countdown (little ones needed their beds) and shot off confetti and screamed, “Happy New Years!”

Wow, that was so much fun. What I loved most was just the sweet, wide-open feeling of it all. No angst or stress, no dramas, no worries—just arms raised high, feet stomping, celebrating life and the good fun of being all together. The last song of the night was “I had the time of my life . . . and I owe it all to you.” We did the dirty bits version and followed it with the real version. I danced with my grandson Gavin who is now taller than I am. It was the perfect way to bring in the New Year.

New Years Lesson #1

We don’t need to take life so seriously. We need to blow out the pipes, celebrate, laugh, dance and play.

 New Years Mantra for 2012

“This is the best day of my life!”

New Years Bash–Part Two

The big kids had permission to stay up all night. (They made it until 2:00). On New Year’s Day we had a Tamale party and smooshed masarina batter into cornhusks and steamed them. During a lull Milt and I were apologizing to the twins for still not being able to tell them apart. Korah and Kelsey are identical twins. We decided to ask them to explain to us their differences. 

Korah pointed out that she wears a little ‘K’ necklace with amber beads–and that she never takes it off. We started to ask more direct questions. I asked which of them was more socially shy and which one was more out there. Korah admitted to her shyness, and Kelsey said that she was more out there. Korah is better at sticking with a task until she masters it—Kelsey likes to roam. Korah also admitted that she tends to worry more. They are both pretty good violinists. We even had them stand back to back and could easily see that Kelsey has a good two inches over her sister.  Gavin was there, too, and we asked him a lot of questions. He will be 14 this year and is now taller than I am. He wants to be a doctor.

What was most interesting was the exchange itself–asking smart children to self-evaluate.  It is so amazing to see the difference in children who have been allowed to express themselves, to enter into conversation, to be listened to carefully. I’ve been around many children who are not given this simple courtesy. 

We all want someone to listen. We don’t want to be told what we should or shouldn’t be feeling or doing. We don’t want to be lectured or advised. We don’t want to be shut down with a look or a tone of voice. We don’t want to be humiliated or told that our infant ideas are stupid. What if we could just listen to others without constantly filtering each word through our own busy brains? What if we could listen to another the way we listen to the wind in the trees? We never ask the wind to stop being the wind. Now, as I consider this, I don’t really want to ask myself not to be who I am either. I can see that the filters of my mind are always set to “how can I help?” But sometimes people don’t want my help. I could become a better listener myself. Remove the helper/teacher filters and become a better listener.

New Year’s Lesson #2

Listen like the wind.