new mexico – queer vegan adventures

here we are, late summer. i know it is late summer, not by the calendar but by smell. i drove into southern new mexico and was greeted by both the smell of rain on creosote and ripe chili peppers. a smile grew across my face and my body eased just a little.

my summer started april 1st. i quit my job and went in search of what is next, secretly hoping it would find me. to be honest, i’m tired of moving around all the time. it is starting to feel like i have an allergy to making a home, and trust me i have tried several times. who knows maybe it’s a fear, or i am just so used to instability that i get antsy when i do have a little? something inside me gets jumpy and itchy. i don’t know.

but this time, instead of going on some kind of grand adventure of biking across the country or down a coast, i decided to stick to this state that in many ways has claimed me as home. this state has so captured my heart. i have tried to describe the draw: the people for sure, maybe it is because white folks are the minority, no one seems to be in a rush to go anywhere or get things done quickly (aka the land of manana). maybe it is the way the light plays across the landscape, the way water moves in that light, where i have found water and types of water: lakes, streams, rivers, puddles, fierce quick storms, the rain that evaporates before it reaches the ground, but the hail bounces on dry land. then there is the subtle beauty that will simply blow my mind. the way just a trace of rain can make the desert explode in color and scent from the creosote. then there are the mountains and the piney-scented forests. the cottonwoods and aspens. the desert willow and mesquite. the cold snow-melt down-stream on a hot hot day.

i have also fallen for the amazing animals that i have gotten to know here. the quail, the roadrunner (of course), hummingbirds diving overhead, coyotes’ howl as the sunsets. the abet’s squirrel, the bears, mountain lions, big horn sheep, snakes…i’ve even seen sparkle butts (fireflies) camping down by the rio. yes this is a magical place to me.

i haven’t posted much on this adventure because, well it just feels pretty personal in ways adventures haven’t in the past. i’ve spent whole days sitting by a river just sitting and watching the day go by, or in a hammock reading a book as the bluest of blue skies moved over me. i’ve let the preciousness of this world we are guests in sink deep into my being. i’ve also gone on amazing hikes, swam in incredible water, soaked in hot springs, ridden my bike to new and exciting places, i’ve drank wonderful beverages in surprising places. i’ve also run into friends unexpectedly with such frequency it has become a joke.

i have no great revelations after nearly 4 months of this adventuring; except maybe this: relationships. community. what else could be more important? finding place, land, water that i want to be in relationship with. that i want to get to know. that i want to know me. that i want to be in conversation with. it hit me in such a quiet way one afternoon as i was walking in a wild and scenic river to a waterfall. this place that holds so many stories. whose history is now and right in front of my face and all i have to do is pay attention. move slower. sit a spell. make an offering. remember that i am not separate from, but a part of this great and wonderfully complex world. (p.s. i do think this is key to facing the greatest challenges we face right now)

now it is time to start looking for home base and another job. i have a couple ideas for a place to land. i have a few ideas of what i will do to pay my bills. and i am actually excited for this next phase. also nervous. i hate looking for jobs and housing so doing both at the same time….wow. but the funny thing is this time, i don’t feel like i can make a wrong choice. there will be challenges and delights regardless and i do recognize that with this opportunity comes a shit-ton of privilege! i don’t want to make light of what a gift these months have been. i couldn’t have done it without the people who have opened their doors to me when i just wanted to rest in a building with walls and doors and showers. who made food with me. who joined me or took me on grand adventures. who shared their special places with (talk about trust!). where i could have explorative conversations after weeks of not talking to anyone except cashiers and bartenders. friends who let me process the emotional rollercoaster that has been the past few jobs i’ve had, of having work and housing so deeply connected, how untenable this whole economic system is.

so, there it is,”how i spent my summer vacation” essay. i have so much more to share from this experience so look to the other blog, deep thoughts hard feelings, for those musings as i dust off my computer and get to writing again.

and as always, thanks for reading!

i know it has been awhile since i have written anything here. it is not for the lack of adventures, not by a long way. i just haven’t known how to write about them. the desert changes me every time i take a breath of the magical air. the sand and grit gets into my pours. the light shifts how i see. all of it absorbed into my being…it changes my perspective. but i think i figured out a way to start talking about it, and i will let the sunris explain.

today paco, the truck, and i woke up in a different town for the first time in over a year (well except for a little backpacking trip to the gilas that may or may not included my 2nd encounter with search and rescue, but that is another story for another time).

i wanted a get away. a place i could get some writting done, dig deep into some research that i’ve been pecking at for awhile now, and sneak in a hot spring soak…..or 3. so i pointed the truck in a direction and drove for a little over an hour. and booked a little bungalow for a week. they call it a bungalow, it is a tiny little one room with the kitchen and bathroom all in the same space, but it is mine for the week and i am very happy.

so today i woke like i usually do, before the break of dawn, litterly. the sky hadn’t even changed from it’s mightnight blue yet. so i made some tea because, well i am a mear few steps from a fully loaded kitchen, and don’t have to break up the ice in my water jug. i take the steaming cup outside for some breaths as the sky shifts into a new day.

and for some reason, today, it hits me. how long have i been doing this, greeting the sun? when i tell people i’ve been up for hours, some have actually laughed at me, my silence could only mean i was asleep. them not realizing i’ve heard them get up, make the coffee, turn on the tv or radio. that i go to sleep in a way that allows me a glimpse of the sky, even if there is no way for me to see east, i watch the light shift. i lay there and think, stew, embrace the stillness, the quiet that i won’t find again for hours upon hours.

but today i am wondering when this started? i know it wasn’t those years in the pacific northwest where i went days without seeing the sun, just different shades of grey merging in and out of a darkness that never really got black or deep dark blue of the night. it certainly wasn’t all those years of tending bar, closing co-ops, late-night social times where i would see the sun rise as i finally ended my day.

that is a different kind of witness to the sunrise, watching it come up as i go down. it is almost like a relay race, or an exchange, ok you are here now, i can go. as if i just had to make sure there would be a day even if i failed to participate. and i was rarely alone in these moments. someone from the night’s adventures, maybe the whole crew. as if the rise of the sun could signal us to eat breakfast then pass out from exhaustion and glee.

no. this greeting is something completely different. something almost magical. mystical. i feel cheated if i miss it or the rare grey day hides the moment. there is something that grounds me in this moment of this greeting. i feel connected, at least for a moment, to the greater world, to my breath maybe? to the bird songs perhaps? to the coyotes howlng one final time before they scamper off? the owls that make the occasional appearance? the hope of rain in the clouds? the message in the wind? the deep booming silience found in the desert? to the something i can not name but am deeply indebted to for the magic of this world we get to inhabit?

what i am beginning to realize is that this is the moment that puts me firmly into my body. it makes me pay attention. i hear my breathing, wanting the breath to be clean air. i take the first drinks of water to break my fast of the night, and i want it to be clean water. i set my mind on these things so that the choices i make for the day are so that i and all the beings seen and not, heard and not, that we all have clean air, water, food. that we, as we end meditation with, be at ease, know peace, and be free from suffering.

this practice of greeting the day to start my day, a new day of new potentials connects me to me, and thus me to my environment. this connection holds me accountable to my responsibility to hold up my end of the agreement of interconnectedness. and no matter what happens the rest of the day, i have this moment to hold me as a place of gratitude, relative safety, and a type of love. and i can not believe i get to receive this gift.

all this has infected how i move through my adventures these days, as well as how and what adventures i am choosing. and now i think i can write about them.

as always, thanks for reading

ometeotl

Tag: new mexico

best summer ever…so far…

sunrise

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