Wednesday, July 27, 2011

in my private, claustrophobic world, I am in the Bavarian woods, I am open and venturing under the sheltering skies of pines and spruces. I am finding Pfifferlinge, blueberries, cranberries, and stashing them in the freezer for future use..

I am the beloved daughter of Bavaria, making use of her wares, I am protected and secure.
The grandmothers and fathers of Bavaria, love me and protect me, I am doing their work.

Then, I hit the epic fail that is the American public land use not-a-system.

Part of the reason I have not been out in the Appalachians, has been lack of a mentor, lack of time, lack of.. just lack of initiative.

I know it's a rich environment, I know it's all there.. and I know that I have clients who literally cry when I can't see them.

This is why I need retreats like our dear Young's place up in the 'Dacks'.
I can do a few sessions on that beautiful deck on Canada Lake, just for the sheer joy of the place. But I need to rest, sketch, sail, canoe, kayak and have a life, too.

I love to hear the loons in the morning, I grew up knowing there were loons, and always wanted to hear them. I always wanted to wear a sweater in the evening. It's the fantasy of every native Texan, and part of the reason I approach any part of Bush citizenship in TX as total fiction: they could always retreat to Martha's Vineyard in the heat of summer.
The rest of us were stuck in three-digit hell, from late May through October.

No Texan worth their salt, balls, or bones, dodged each and every Texas summer. I only dodged a week or so of my last few, and weathered many of them without aircon.

At some point, I would just go mad, and refuse to spend the weekend in Bastrop County.
I went into town and hit the swimming holes Deep Eddy and Barton Springs, swimming laps until I cooled down, or go with family and friends to whatever was fun and cool.

End of August, I was half-mad or more and grumpy, my hair was falling out, and I was just a little further on my way to psychotic.

This acting-out found its way into, fortunately, many constructive activities, which led me into my escape from the clay oven, which is the Texas major season.

I escaped from many other things, at the same time.

I also became beholden, to things I am still trying to understand.

Friday, July 22, 2011

I have to take it back to the beginning, an American in a spare room in Munich.

I was there on a skinny slip of fate, my terrified Texan self adrift in a Schwabing penthouse.
A little kid was yelling at me one evening as I dragged my bike into the back parking area, about cats getting in, pissing and stinking up the place. He was about 7-8 years old, and incredibly articulate. I knew exactly what he was saying, but had neither the skill nor the vocabulary to reply.
I developed that later.
He had no idea that I was a stupid American, and while I understood about the cats, I had no idea about how the doors or anything else worked, other than getting in, locking up my recalcitrant bike, and getting up a thousand flights of stairs to study in my rented room.
This kid was the son of my future Rolfing teacher, Peter Schwind.

Of course I had no idea, and the kid had no idea, that anyone didn't speak German.

The fates laugh at me now, but I was occupying a spare room in the same building as my eventual, most influential teacher.

I met the ambassador from Brazil to Germany, in my very best pajamas.
I was studying, and my hostess insisted that I come out and meet the fellow. He suffered from hirsutism, and was one of the most elegant humans I have ever had the honor to meet. He made me feel like royalty, in my PJs, whilst on a visit to his cultural teacher, in another country. Seriously, that's chops.

That's what I miss, here.. that kind of elegance.
That, and the grainy practicality I grew up with.

I am literally between the devil and the deep blue sea.
Life is suspended animation here.. some kind of halfway point.

Who knows, what the resolution will be. Not me.
I can guess.. I may well seek asylum, eventually. 
So the adventure continues, and the doors and windows open down the road.

Friends are continuing their lives together, and I am searching my heart, to find things to share with them.

You already know, that you must risk everything for love.

No one can tell you who to love, when, how, what or why.
Love finds its own way, and it is up to us, to plumb its mysteries.

Just because we love one person, does not mean that we can't love anyone else.
In fact, the best love is commutative, it links up, and joins people together.

I love so many people, sometimes it just boggles my mind.
I am not sure, how I can make room in my heart for all of them.. and then, I realize, that my love, makes more room in my heart.

My heart can always expand, it can make room for more loved ones.
This is a bigger heart, it is a better heart, and more love, and more to love, just makes my life better, bigger, and gives me more ways to grow.

So I choose, to live by love.