I hear the waves breaking first, then the water rolling toward the beach, pause, and the silence before the next wave breaks. My thoughts come into focus, I listen to the voices in my mind, not interested and my attention turns back to the sound of the waves.
It's 6:20am and just light enough to see the lines of white water moving toward the beach.My wife is still asleep. I listen for Lola. She and her sister, Bella, are sleeping in their room next to ours. Bella loves to sleep in the morning and Lola loves to yell "Daddy, I want Daddy". Another set breaks on the sand bar in front of our house and there she is "Daddy…"
Lola is 18 months here on Earth and already she knows clearly what she wants and when she wants it. When I open the door to their room Lola gives me that little pixie grin "Hi Daddy". I love the way babies smell, the way holding them is like holding all the love in the universe rolled into one little ball of light.
Lola and I walk into the kitchen, in the background I hear a big set crashing onto the sand. Coffee pot and tortillas. Oh man, we're out of tortillas. Holding Lola I fill the coffee pot with water from the Talavera water dispenser. I love the hand painted blue and white Talavera. Each piece is unique and each piece fits into the set while still having it's own individual character. Each piece is a work of art. We humans are a lot like Talavera and then we start thinking too much.
Lola says "Want some" and points at the tortilla holder. After a quick changing of the Pamper, (all the people here in our Village seem to call all diapers "Una pamper", from a brand to an identity all its own, amazing to me), we head out the door to the tortillarilla. That's the tienda or market that makes and sells the fresh daily bread of Mexico. Lola and I love the sweet maize tortillas. She has eaten them all her 18 months on Earth, the way my Dad fed me grits. Corn, the kernels of the sun come to nourish life. Mexico's indigenous peoples have such beautiful mythologies created from our living relationship with the world around us and corn is a center piece of that myth and magic.
Lola wants "down, down", that means I walk in the street with the soft dusty dirt that floats up and around my feet with each step. Her mom freaks at the sight of Lola playing in the street dirt but she's at home in bed so what the heck. Together we finish our walk to the tortillaria,happy feet in the dusty street. I buy a kilo of Maize tortillas for 10 pesos, a kilo is a 2.2lbs. of sweet, warm, soft, goodness. On the walk back home we cut over to the beach so I can check out the waves. Warm breeze, soft sand and head high swells breaking across the point.
When we get home I grab the butter, real butter, from cows, and I fix Lola's favorite morning food, butter tortillas and one of those little wild bananas that grow around here. While she's eating I woof a few myself and take a cup of fresh locally grown coffee to my esposa who just woke up and wants to know how Lola got so dusty...oh she fell down, no big deal.
I tell my wife I have a meeting as I change into my baggies, that's a surfers bathing suit, and grab a towel from the hook in the bathroom. On the way out the door I flash on being 16 years old and flying out the front door of my Dad's beach house in Florida, grabbing my surfboard and sneaking around the house to meet my buddies conspiring on what we'd tell the school about not making it to classes that day.
At 52 I still feel like I'm escaping from some reality that I never really wanted and feel so grateful for this reality that my wife and I have dreamed up together where my meetings can be with a wave or a seabird as easily as on Skype or at the other end of a three hour flight. The joy in my life is in the details of the moment. The color of the Talavera, the smell of the tortillas, the sound of waves breaking in the first light of the morning. We're all surrounded by the sweetness and the subtlety of life and for so many not very good reasons we choose to not slow down and take it in. I don't do that to myself much anymore. It's just not worth it. Peace be with you..Love , Lee
1 comment:
Hey Lee, it was good to read your blog. It sounds great there. I do think we get too busy to slow down and enjoy life. I slowed down yesterday morning and listened to the birds outside on my deck yesterday. It took me back to Mexico and the Dreaming House. I miss Mexico a lot. Dream about it a lot. Never thought I would feel that way about it. It is like home to me. It sounds like you are enjoying your family there and life there. Thanks for letting me share in your experiences. I hope to see you soon. Tell Mee hi and enjoy.
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