There are no average people in my world. None. Each one, when I say hi, is ready to tell me a story that will be something my mind will not let go of. Each story will cause me to be glad as I move through the remainder of my day. Sometimes, while cycling for miles I will find myself turning their stories in my thoughts recalling a funny thing said, causing me to chuckle, while drips of salty moisture roll down my face. Gratitude. Carlos has worked at the Sonoma Development Center for over 25 years. As of late he cares for the animals on the farm. The farm has water and so during training about every hour I take a small break from the circles of country road I am cycling and step off my bike to refill my canteen and get a breather. I have seen him there for years, always wiling to waive a hello, a smile and when he speaks, his words are filled with the thick accents of Latin America. A couple of days ago I asked him, where from? He nodded his head as though he was willing to step into that story. El Salvador. Long ago. He had lived the life of the son of two entrepreneur parents; large rigs, and retail shops. Then civil war broke the country, and trucks and shops were destroyed. When he feeds the horses, donkeys, lamas, sheep, goats, parrots and rabbits, he speaks about them by name as friends. He has spent half a life understanding how to let go what was lost, and learning, and relearning how to create friendships with what he has. And to my knowledge, he has much. A woman who loves him, children who adore him, and friends wherever he looks. He lives the slow ranch life, because this life gives him an opportunity to maintain a balance of his heart, with the memories of his head. Marie is a ranch guest who comes to meet with the cats of this property. Minky, a fat grey siamese is her favorite. These cats all eat well here. As she sat petting her friend, she told me the story. Minky is skittish because she and Freddie, the biggest fattest cat on the property used to have a relationship, she winked, but now they are doing their best to be friends. However, sometimes when the two hang out attempting to repair the friendship, the big black cat, Simon, shows up and Minky splits. Simon is the hunter who lives in the fields and has done well, since coyotes find cats a delicacy, and he has never been caught, so he must be pretty tough, she exclaims. These cats are some of the most gentle creatures, and yet, like she said, they are tough. When I asked how her day was going, she spoke with the melodic voice of someone born in Spain. She said, very well. Earlier that morning she had enjoyed an online meditation guided by Deepak Chopra. She said that peace always starts at home then grow out into a world. She felt like some kind of peace goddess. I nodded. She then asked me how long I have been visiting this farm. I told her since I first moved out here in 92. Her eyes opened big with surprise as she asked me if remembered some of the old timer cats, and she then recited the lineage of these cats relatives for three generations. It was as though she were asking me if I remembered dear friends she has known. She spoke with a confidence, and an animated calm that made me think she was a retired professor of biology, or a veterinarian. During the middle of her story a nice man showed up, and after greeting me, and her, he sat down next to Marie, and picked up her hand in his and placed it on his lap. They sat there smiling as I wished them a good day. Stories turning in my head entertain me through the day. There are no normal people. As children we knew this. Sometimes people will stop telling their story as though life is wonderful, until you ask them. And others, like these two, find a way to keep what is important to their imaginations, their souls, alive. Willing to share the wonder they experience should any one show an interest. It is the weekend. For me my busiest time. Students, free from the work place, come to me, as I guide them with words that help their imagination come alive, as they climb toward any goal they tell me they want. Each week, I tell some to keep drawing; others, to go to that interview; others, make that call to that lost lover, or friend, or sibling, perhaps to offer an apology; others, to pick up a travel journal to a place, a beach or mountain top they have dreamed of and make plans; others, to take a daily walk for 5 miles or more, and allow their body, their most important home to become their friend again. Like when they were children. I am honored each time I meet with a student. And then I got 20 miles to cover, dinner with a sweet friend, and a book about my ancestors to write before my busy day is done. I like my life. movingfastsittingstill.net
Posted on: Sat, 09 Aug 2014 15:56:12 +0000
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