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It's probably because we have not been able to freely roam in a long, long time. Being safe and mindful is the only way to be right now. We need to get a handle on this contagion, so we will follow the rules to do so. Not being able to just jump on a plane and fly to Europe is a weird sensation. Not that I've ever really done that... you know, like the romantic movies... buy a ticket, pack a coat, Ray-Bans, toiletries and spin the globe. Hey! Let's spend the week in Spain! Jump off the plane, look around, hail a cab, meet a guide that shows you around Barcelona for the day. He just so happens to be driving a taxi in the big city, to make some extra money to support his family's vineyard, that for generations has made the most luscious Tempranillo, but has fallen on tough times because of a recent drought. He will do all that it takes to save the heirloom vines that his great-great grandfather planted, nurtured and harvested for the good of the village. His wine brought the community together, when things were falling apart. I learn all of this while he is driving me to my hotel, before I venture on the next day to the La Rioja region, which so happens to be the place where his family lives. After a refreshing night of sleep and a quick tour of Gaudi's art installments, I meet Francisco, who found someone to cover his shift, to accompany me on my visit to La Rioja. We travel by rail for 4 hours and he tells me of the simple life, growing up in the middle of a vineyard, while I tell him of a contrasting life of living in suburbs of the US with it's greatness and fails. He is particularly interested in the wild spirits of Texas ... and I am invested in his stories of the dominant flavors of the Tempranillo varietal. We laugh, we cry, we drink fabulous wine on our journey. When we arrive, we are greeted by his extended family... swished off to a brilliant stone home, seated at a long table with white linen, faded silver, hand thrown pottery, cheese, cured meats, olives and yes, spectacular wine, from one of the 9 red noble grapes. It just so happens that one of Francisco's brothers plays Spanish guitar, so he just so happens to have it with him and the family just so happens to sing and cry and dance between our late lunch courses, that the grandmothers make and serve but don't speak any English. It's a glorious celebration of all the senses. I even try an olive, which is weird because I hate olives but everything seems just so perfect, that I thought maybe they taste differently here in the wine region of Northern Spain. Nope, still olive-y. The 70 degree day, my perfect choice of the one outfit I packed at the last minute, my ultra cool sunglasses, the light reflecting off of the colors of the changing vines... everything is in its heightened state. It leaves me feeling tingly and dreamy.

Oh.. I just realized that I feel asleep on my computer.. my hand is tingly and I must have been dreaming. What was I saying? Oh yeah.. I need an adventure.

I pray for clarity. Daily, I pray for peace. I pray for forgiveness and understanding. I pray for you. I pray for me. I pray for our future. I pray for our past. But today, I pray mostly for sweet clarity.

The lightness that comes after experiencing sadness and disillusion, is a welcome gift. The colors of the world seem to pop, I can smell bacon cooking a block away, I can hear an owl from the schoolyard at dawn. They were always there, but my clouded perception blocked my senses. It's like I was in a Star Trek episode where they put a forcefield around me... to only experience what was about 5 inches from my face. The funny thing is though, you learn to adapt to the routine of the forcefield. The forcefield can be a myriad of things. Spiritual, physical, emotional... you know, life stuff. Then one day you wake up and find that someone left the mystical key close to where you can stick your hand through the mystical bars and the mystical guard is asleep like in an old western movie and the mystical dog is right there with you, because he knows what it's like to want to fly and then you slowly creep your too- big- hand- for- the- bars to the tiny key and you barely can touch it and then you accidentally knock it away and then the dog mystically feels that he must move it with his nose closer to you, because your freedom is his freedom and then you are sweating because you know this is your one and only mystical chance to escape with your new friend the dog and then you start to feel that it's your responsibility to free the both of you and then you start to smell the bacon down the street... that the dog has been smelling since it came out the package and then you find yourself feeling that key on your fingertips, to the middle part of the digits to the top part of the palm to the opposing thumb that the dog wishes he had to a full grasp. You then take the key swing your hand through the too small bars wrap your hand around the lock and then the guard stirs. He is a bumbly kind of fellow that is really not fit for guarding, nonetheless, he is mystically in charge. You continue to try and unlock the mystical lock and after a couple of solid turns, it works. Now a more spiritually trained writer would most likely say that after all of that effort and self imposed constraints, ultimately there is No Lock.. but I am not that evolved, yet. So the lock comes off, the guard wakes up just as you are making your escape, the dog leads you to the door, you open the door and the light, the bacon and the owl are all there... waiting to welcome you with open arms.

Then, for a moment, you experience it. The deep breath, the wider view, the cool touch of the breeze. You feel... well... Alive. Ah! To hold on to that feeling!! To just hold. on. to. that. feeling.

Wishing you mystical moments of clarity today, Nov 8 2020.

Yesterday I drove home from a beautiful day in Luckenbach. For those of you who have not been, Luckenbach is a cool place in the Hill Country of Texas where one can sit and listen to great music , have a beer and meet all kinds of interesting folks. It was a perfect weather day. People were kind and listened peacefully to the music. It felt a bit like church. Church with beer and puppies. The gospel was delivered by song, the congregation was diverse, fun and colorful. It was All Saints Day and it felt like it. I did not know who was going to vote for whom and I did not see any friction either way. What I saw was love. Love and more love. People buying beverages for each other. Kids running up and down the hills and climbing trees. There was no argument when one had to put on a mask to order drinks. People minded each other's space. A few even sat away from the crowd, quietly yet proactively minding their own health.

We live about an hour and a half drive from Luckenbach. My husband has played the first Sunday of the month (March-Nov) for 10 years now. We have spent a lot of time witnessing the magic of this place. We know that every place has its quirks, drama and troubles... but yesterday felt immune to it all. It's always a tough place to leave, because you know eventually you have to jump back into real life.

I left a little early in the set because 1: I knew if I stayed, I would be there until 8 and would have to dodge the deer all the way home. And 2: I had to get home to let our sweet dog out. It was a nice drive home. No deer and not too much Sunday traffic. I listened to Brene' Brown's podcast most of the way, sprinkled in with new Bruce Springsteen and some vintage Aretha Franklin. The sunset was particularly gorgeous. I tried to take an artsy photo of the sky in my rear-view mirror (like you see on instagram) but I thought I'd better keep my eyes on the windy road instead. Plus it seems like each time I think I can wrangle the sky in a phone photo, it looks like I am trying to wrangle the sky in a phone photo. With the time change, the colors of the sky were looking like a Bob Ross painting. OH! And then... the moon!! Making her dramatic exit as the featured guest star on a Saturday night Halloween. I could see her rise in the mirror and then to my right and then to my left and then to my right again. (FM 1431 is a winding road). She was lighting my way home.

When I reach the town of Lago Vista, reality starts to sink in. I will soon be making my way back to the rows and rows of homes, abundance of traffic and perhaps a palpable tension lingering in the air. I pass through another small town and slowly creep up on my left hand turn into our neighborhood. It's a nice neighborhood with good folks... but I wasn't ready to release my peaceful blanket that I was wearing from my weekend in the Hill Country. I pass by the QT gas station & the dog park. I turn right into the fancy new neighborhood, next to our humble older neighborhood. I drive through the stately homes decorated for Halloween. Feeling the calm slowly dissipate, I look to my right... and I see a 6 foot unicorn walking down one of the streets. I did a double take, like you see on a cartoon. I said out loud to myself.. "I think that was a 6 foot Unicorn" ... Thinking maybe I was hallucinating, I drove around the block just to be sure. Sure enough. Someone just decided to put on a unicorn costume and take a walk around the fancy block. (or maybe they never took it off from the night before) I loved it. It helped ease my anxiety about the week ahead and reminded me to try to stay light in spite of it all. One degree cooler would have been the unicorn smoking a cigar.

I might mosey into town today and buy a 1/2 price-post Halloween- unicorn costume to keep on hand for the remaining months of 2020. When you feel the familiar squeeze of these unpredictable days, look for the 5'5 flash of white and sparkly rainbow down one of your streets.

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