To continue from yesterday’s story about the ladies of Casa de Retiros Claret, my second foray into conversation was a byproduct of a shower I took.
We had been warned not to drink the water while we showered– not that difficult for me, especially given the trickle that was our shower. It took me several tries to figure out the hot water (the spigots were reversed) and then I made a mess. What craziness. This epic shower happened the day of the concrete (which was Wednesday, if you were keeping track), and I used my one and only towel to sop up the water that I flooded onto my floor. Water seeped out of my bathroom and into my room! It was not pretty. So, I sacrificed my towel and my Thursday shower with it. I had a hand towel and could use that to wash my hair in the sink, I figured. Continue reading →
I’m forgetting stories. Things people shared with me that I was present to, but did not write down, in an attempt to be fully present in that moment. I love recording, for it aids in re-membering (literally) an event or an encounter. When I record though, I do not listen as well or with the same presence. So, this trip, I sacrificed recording for the greater good of presence.
I’m about to do something a bit crazy and tell you a story about someone. This isn’t chronological, but rather, it’s just a snippet. When I write about Guatemala, I’m challenged; how do I honor and acknowledge my time there without getting mired in a sense of loss that I am not there now? A month ago, I was in Zona 7, fully in touch with my body, fully in touch with my gifts, with listening. Today, I’m in the United States, spending way too much time driving, and not fully in touch with some key things. Continue reading →