Small Circles

Perhaps not this kind of happy, but I feel super happy nonetheless

And I love writing "nonetheless," so now I'm even happier.  Feeling good, at peace, not sure how I got here but feeling super grateful that peace and ease and grace and happy is where I find myself.  The tears made room for this feeling, this rainbow of feeling.  All colors.  Anyhow, here's Rousseau on happiness:

If there is a state where the soul can find a resting-place secure enough to establish itself and concentrate its entire being there, with no need to remember the past or reach into the future, where time is nothing to it, where the present runs on indefinitely but this duration goes unnoticed, with no sign of the passing of time, and no other feeling of deprivation or enjoyment, pleasure or pain, desire or fear than the simple feeling of existence, a feeling that fills our soul entirely, as long as this state lasts, we can call ourselves happy, not with a poor, incomplete and relative happiness such as we find in the pleasures of life, but with a sufficient, complete and perfect happiness which leaves no emptiness to be filled in the soul.

And so the end begins...

It has begun.  I am really present to the sadness today, and so is Albie.  Mama, I am really going to miss my friends, he says.  I know, I know.

So many goodbyes, still saying goodbye.  In 36 years, so many goodbyes.

The tears are flowing, there's no stopping them now.  Just the other day I was praying for my heart to burst open with love, longing to feel that bliss....  I suppose tears are a great vehicle for that love.  I am feeling the love.  And it is beautiful.  And it hurts.

Thresholds, samhain, mas cara...

Monday morning.  The Monday morning after a beautiful and intense Samhain ritual with my friend Monica's circle.  {Briefly, Samhain is the mid-point between the autumnal equinox and the winter solstice.  Up north, we know it as Halloween. The moment when we cross the threshold to the three dark months of the winter-tide...  The time of the dark goddess...  The witches' new year...  It is said that at this time of the year, the veil between the worlds of seen and unseen are at their thinnest.  A great time for divination...}

Back to that Monday morning...  Albie was home sick, two friends were coming over for a visit, and I thought I'd make a quick exit and take our dirty clothes to the laundry.  (I will miss you $3 dollar wash and fold!)  The laundromat is a half a block away, across the street, past the first intersection.  I approach with my two bags, and argh!  It's closed!  I stand there, wondering what to do.  Things like this, the small details of daily living, they leave me a bit muddled.  I am confused.  Why is our laundry closed?  Is everyone alright?  Should I take my clothes elsewhere?  What if elsewhere uses too much perfume and then my clothes disgust me? 

As I am standing there, befuddled, a man walks by.  He passes me, gets to about 10 paces beyond me, and stops.  Turns around.  Comes back to talk to me.  Now, in conventional, norms of society rules, well, he's a bit odd.  Round and ballish, of indiscriminate age -- not too old, not too young.  Wearing a bright green shirt.  Ruddy complexion.  Carrying a "Disco" bag.  And in a laughy smiley kind of voice, yes, he's laughing while talking, he says, "Ha!  You're trying to wash your clothes and you can't -- how about I wash your soul?"

And I'm now more muddled, but laughing too.  Wouldn't you if someone offered to wash your soul?  And so I giggle, and I muddle, and I think I grunt in response.

And so he continues -- he'd like to do a tarot card reading, right there, on the sidewalk, for me and my bags of laundry.  He whips his Kabbalah Tarot deck out of his pocket, explaining it's not about the money, I can give or not give him anything...

My first impulse is to brush him off...  Like, how charming, yes really, quite nice you are -- but I must get home to my son and my friends, BuhBye!  But then. True impulse says, you crazy lady -- say yes!

So I say yes.  And then this Fool, La Loca in her masculine form, proceeds to do a reading, on the corner by the laundry, for me and my dirty undies. At 9 in the morning.  And I just flow along.

I don't remember much, I have to admit.  There was a whirlwind of cards, one reading after another.  But some things stood out.  Each time I pulled cards, (he did about 5 three card readings,) he'd impishly say, "Hay, mira!  Que buenas cartas!"  Really good for the ego, that is.  He did a reading for Albie, and they were all "coin" cards.  There were a bunch of 5 cards, which often represent for me my own personal struggle with being human, with my humanity.  The five also coincided with a vision I had (during meditation in the samhain circle) of myself as a five-pointed star. 

He kept throwing around Hebrew words, which connected me to the feeling I've carried with me for quite some time, that inside of me, somewhere, there lives an old Jewish woman. 

The thing that stuck with me most, was what he said when I pulled "The Moon."  Now, in my life, I use the Motherpeace tarot and I am quite used to Vicki Noble's more feminine, feminist interpretations of the cards.  So my interpretation of The Moon would have been a bit different...  But Mr. Green Shirt Fool, what he said was:  This card shows your dependence.  The Moon needs the sun to shine, it does not shine in and of itself.  You need to shine, without dependence on another.  (Or something like that.)  He kept saying something about a mascara.  Singing almost, "Mascara, mascara -- Mas Cara!  Entendes?  Mas Cara!"  (Mascara means mask, mas cara means, more face...)

Anyhow, that was it...  Without going in to too much detail, that's been where I is at.  Just the other day telling Chris how he needs to recognize my greatness, or some such bullshit like that.  Big belly laugh bullshit.  And in many ways, it's the core of my learning here in Buenos Aires:  How to be a Solar Woman?  How to shine with my own light?  Here, at the glorious age of the middle?

The reading finished, we made an energy exchange (money for reading) and he walked off, carrying his Disco bag.  He laughed as we parted, "I've never done that before!  Washed the inside of a woman who is trying to wash the outside!"

And I watched him go, funny round messenger man, grateful that I took a moment to pause, and walk through the portal that had opened before me.  I picked up my clothes, and walked home.  The laundry was still dirty, but the soul was clean.

So as not to forget, the boy's words...

Mama, I love you and papa so so so much,  I am going to be so sad when you die.  I love you both so much I'm going to plant lots and lots and lots of flowers when you die.

*thoughtful pause*

But who is going to plant flowers for me when I die?

Unfolding

Oh, Albie. 

I wrote a while back about how Albert was beginning to explore death and dying and love.  He's still there, dealing with some 6 year old fears, and deepening into love and connection.  Last night, as we were going to bed, the deep river of love started overflowing.  "Mama," he said, "I love you so so so much, I love you so much more than you love me."  I explained that I didn't think that was possible, that a mama's love is bigger than the universe, but no...  he assured me that his love was infinity.  Mine was only 100 googol.  As we turned off the light, and kissed papa goodnight, he got weepy with his love again.  In his most emotional voice he said, "I am so grateful that I have such a wonderful mama, and I am so grateful that I have such a wonderful papa."  I snuggled up and held him tight and told him that he was a gift, a precious gift in my life, and that I too was filled with gratitude. He replied, still with that weepy (he could win an oscar) voice, "I know.  I am a gift."  And then he began to name all the people in whose lives he was a gift:  "I am a gift to Abu, I am a gift to grandma and grandpa, I am a gift to Patti..."

He is always a character, no matter how precious the moment.

In this, the last year of his first cycle of seven, he is unfolding.  Really.  I feel as though I am witnessing the unfolding of consciousness, of connection, of vision.  There is sadness -- the innocence of babyhood is being left behind, or perhaps transforming into something different -- but the boyhood that is arriving, well, my heart swells.  I am seeing him more and more as a companion on the path --  this sense of: I know, I'm human too, there's so much, life is so big...  (Doesn't mean I don't nag him to eat his breakfast, this growing companionship status...)

There is something going on, and I am honored to be a witness to this child's growth, and I am honored that we can share the path for a while.

Passing the torch ~ letting go ~ the story of a circle

When I first arrived in Argentina, I searched high and low for a woman's circle.  I think I wrote about this before...  using google to search for a circle in BA...  I called up a woman whose site I had found on the internet, and asked her if she had a circle.  She didn't.  Lots of workshops and classes, but no regular circles.  We spoke for a while, sharing our stories, and at some point she says, "Wait a minute...  why don't you start a circle?"  "What are you waiting for," she said, "the goddess herself to come knocking on your door?"   I responded like a little girl.  I think for her I tried to keep my cool, uh yeah, perhaps I'll do that...  but inside I thought, no way, not me, where would I do it, I'm just a visitor, for pete's sake they speak spanish here.

Fast forward a few months:  I had been sending out monthly emails to a group of women I'd met in a class, all saying, in short: whoops, sorry, not this month, I still can't find a space.  Weird huh?  How in this huge, gigantuous city, I could not find a space to host a circle.  So convenient.

Fast forward to June-ish, and a young woman writes back to me, I have a space, let's do it...  I say ok, great, yup, Friday it is.  Then the internal critic, (those gosh darn vermicious knids of the mind,) starts in... blah, blah, yuck, yuck, you suck.  This woman, Jaz, is somewhat of a flake, and we don't really confirm that we are doing a circle until Friday morning.  The circle is supposed to take place that evening.  I run around like a mad woman all day, gathering supplies, fighting the critic.  She's telling me all day to just blow it off...  run away!  You're better off alone!  I share my sentiments with Chris, who knows a thing or two about Jen, and he says, "You're going to go and then come home and tell me, 'Oh Chris it was so beautiful and so wonderful and the women are so amazing.'"

I facilitated the circle that night, there were five of us at its birth, and I came home and said, "Oh Chris it was so beautiful and so wonderful and the women were so amazing."  And it really was...  it was a beautiful birth. We sang, we danced, we released, we made magic candles.  I realized that first night that this circle was not about me teaching, it was about me learning.  As we held more circles, it became clearer and clearer:  there was so much I could learn from these women.  I had been nervous that they would think some of the rituals goofy, and I had thought I'd go slow...  slowly bring them into the fold.  Well, poop on me -- it was them who brought me in, fast and furious.  They were/are so open, so ready for this kind of sacred play, so ready to release and act and participate and howl at the moon.  Goofy?  That was my thing...

By the fourth circle, I felt as though my vision for the circle had been fulfilled.  Three of the women were so enthusiastic, they asked if they could participate in the creation of the circle each month.  Of course, I said yes.  It was a great opportunity for my ego to let go:  this is my circle, these are my rituals, this is mine!  It actually wasn't all that hard -- I saw that by letting go, I could ensure that this circle would continue on, long past my short stay here in Buenos Aires.  And so, by the forth circle, I felt complete:  this circle would grow and flourish...  and my role was in birthing the circle.  The sustenance of the circle was perhaps not my role...

Well, on Friday, I officially passed the torch.  Even though the circle was sometimes created communally, I had been doing the facilitating.  Well, this month I asked the other women to take charge.  Actually, I was so extreme that I almost didn't go to the circle.  (Must have been my critic again:  run away!)  But that would be like teaching someone to swim by throwing them in the middle of a pool -- doesn't feel all that safe when you're the one being thrown in...  So, of course, I went, as a participant, and just to help embrace these women...  give them something to lean up against.  I bought the circle a cauldron, and officially passed on the fire.  It was a beautiful circle, and they completely took on creating it for themselves, and with their vision.  Even so there were sparks of me, sparks of Susan and the NY circle, sparks of the Spiral, sparks of Vishnu and ascension and my first circle of way back when...  So full...

And so it is complete.  I feel a lot of pride, but in a "look what came through me" kind of way.  Perhaps it is more honor than pride actually, honored that somehow this little spark, ignited in NY (and before and since time immemorial), came with me to BA, and I could pass it on, and they will pass it on, and on, and on...  It's like what I feel about Albie and his amazingness...  I can't take credit for him, his greatness -- I am just touched and mystified that he came through me...  Stevie says it best:  "I can't believe what god has done, through us he's given life to one, isn't she lovely, made from love..."

So you know, well done me, well done us, thanks to the spirits for seeing to it that our sparks connected to ignite the great fire of this circle.  For this last gathering one of the women's partners created a flier.  I post it here, like a proud mama, showing off pictures of her one year old...  Happiness and hugs all around...

Pisces, so far, an aspiration...

"She let go. Without a thought or a word, she let go. She let go of fear. She let go of the judgments. She let go of the confluence of opinions swarming around her head. She let go of the committee of indecision within her. She let go of all the 'right' reasons. Wholly and completely without hesitation or worry, she just let go.

She didn't ask anyone for advice. She didn't read a book on how to let go. She didn't search the scriptures. She just let go. She let go of all the memories that held her back. She let go of the anxiety that kept her from moving forward. She let go of the planning and all the calculations about how to do it just right.

She didn't promise to let go. She didn't journal about it. She didn't write the projected date in her Day-Timer. She made no public announcement and put no ad in the paper. She didn't check the weather report or read her daily horoscope. She just let go.

She didn't analyze whether she should let go. She didn't call her friends to discuss the matter. She didn't utter one word. She just let go.

No one was around when it happened. There was no applause or congratulations. No one thanked her or praised her. No one noticed a thing. Like a leaf falling from a tree, she just let go. There was no effort. There was no struggle. It wasn't good. It wasn't bad. It was what it was, and it is just that.

In the space of letting go, she let it all be. A small smile came over her face. a light breeze blew through her. And the sun and the moon shone forevermore."

- Rev. Safire Rose, Agape International Spiritual Center

Two sides to every moon (sort of, not really.)

Bad news:  we have been denied for financial aid at the school we've applied to in Boulder for Albie.  Bummer, right? 

Good news:  apparently, we're rich!  Drinks on the house for everybody!  What a fabulous message from the universe...

Anti-piojo

School starts in a week, and I have it on good authority (I spoke with a giant roach) that the Lice cannot contain their excitement -- thinking of all the warm heads in which they will soon be nesting.  And while I do think that everyone and everything needs a nice home, I'd rather they not choose Albie's head.  So, today was haircut day....

Before...  I love that mop.  But I'm thinking those darn Lice would too.



After...  Now the Lice can tell that Albie is part elf, and they are sure to leave him alone!

Woof, woof

Yesterday, at around 7:30 pm, Albie and I were heading to La Juvenil to buy some homemade ravioli for dinner.  As we were walking by a cafe with a television, I caught a news report out of the corner of my eye:  38.8 en la sombra.  38.8 degrees -- in the shade -- at 7:30 pm.  Put that into google's handy conversion gadget, and google will tell you:  It's sweltering, and we are meltering. 

It is official then, in spite of today's rain -- the dogs days of summer are upon us.  Summer vacation is winding down, the city is filling up again, school starts on March 4th, and we will have to wake up a bit earlier than 10am...  And go to bed before 11pm...  I am looking forward to the rhythm and organization of the autumn, and grateful that we had ourselves a lovely summer vacation.  (And that our school year only goes until May, when we begin summer vacation all over again.)

We spent a couple weeks in Cordoba, one of the province of Argentina.  Cordoba has some seriously good vibes -- perhaps due to all the running water and the quartz crystals underfoot.  We stayed in a teeny town, and enjoyed the clean air and the quietness.  I was struck with (again) just how beautiful this country is, and how it will take a long time to really get to know Argentina.  We barely made a dent this past year... 

We played in rivers...


And got caught in a hail storm whilst playing in the mountains (notice ominous clouds behind my mom and Albie)...


We made gnome houses...


And Chris and Albie enjoyed the golf, while I enjoyed the views from the golf course...

When we returned from Cordoba we moved right in to our new apartment.  Truly, the apartment is lovely, and twice the size of our old place.  What a lesson, this little move was...  wonder if I have learned it well for the last time?  I was so sad to leave our old place, so upset to move, I just was so Veruca Salt -- I did not want to move!  Not now!  Not ever!  Well, duh, of course the move worked out great, perfect, better than I could have imagined.  I am thrilled to complete our Argentine adventure here in this house. 

Here we are watching the inauguration...

The rest of the summer has been quite peaceful.  Albie turned six!  (I'll have to do a post once I'm done catching you up...)  We go to bed late, wake up late, and lounge around until we are inspired to get up and go.  We've spent a lot of time with friends, family, and in my mom's rooftop pool.  Buenos Aires is bursting with different shows suitable for kids and families so we've also seen our fair share of clowns, acrobats, musicians and drummers.  Albie has been attending a once a week "camp" called d-Spacito.  The founder comes from the slow-food movement, and so this space is a sort of slow-activities hang out for kids...  In the four hours he's there, Albie does yoga, puppets, theater, cooking...  I think it's a fairly fabulous idea, and someone should copy it state-side.

Every time I walk Albie to d-Spacito...

we take a different tree-lined route...

so that I can admire some of the newer, renovated houses...


and some of the older classics...

Buenos Aires has so many beautiful little corners, it's really a lovely city in so many ways...   Well, I think I'm fairly caught up...  Hope your summer or winter was as splendid as mine.