1-11-11

1-11-11
A day of one’s, possibly a day of firsts then?

I Write from Patzcuaro, in the state of Michoacan, Mexico. Patzcuaro is a pueblo magica, a magic village about 5 hours drive on the toll highway west from Mexico City. The elevation is is above 7000 feet still, and the air is clear and dry.  My tortured sinuses are healing.  My white blood cells have been working hard against what they call ‘el grippe’ here, a cold.

When we arrived at the home of friend’s of Curtis’s, the first news was of the horror  in Tuscon, the very city where my new daughter-in-law attends law school. The irony that I was warned and suffered numerous furrowed brows when I told people that  we were going to Mexico for a month sits heavy with me today.
 “Oh, Mexico is so dangerous. “ they said.
The ‘news’ highlights certain things in certain ways. Here, I have less fear  that a deranged person with a fancy gun will open fire at random, out of shear anger. Forgive me, but America has a disproportionate number of angry people living within range of affluence. That combination seems at this point to be more volatile than a mafia and a whole bunch of poor people who share a similar cultural view, and spend most days just working very hard to survive.

This morning I attended Enrique’s yoga class, in the Hatha tradition. I was the only gringo, and so I was able to listen to what instructions in good Spanish sound like. It was a wonderful class, and I spoke afterwards with ‘Kike’ as he goes by. He is the same age as my Arlyn, another young yogi. I bow to you, hijo mio. What beautiful young people we have in the world.

As I lay in savasana tears came. Without a word, Enrique gave me a tissue. We spoke later of the phenomenon particluar to savasana, which we have both experienced ourselves, and witnessed as teachers. This gentle completion to the practice often brings us to our most tender core.  It felt wonderful to have a release, after the past weeks of intensive language study, sinus challenges, and great efforts at social correctness in unfamiliar surroundings.  My experience here is teaching me how to treat those who are visitors, especially from other cultures.  Listen, smile, laugh, and find the things you have in common… oh, and talk about your beloved children, parents and families, almost everyone is softened by the opportunity to speak of their own familiars. 

It is the luck of birth which allows me to be here, and still have a home and a life 2000 miles away as well. In my practice I feel gratitude for such luck, ‘suerte’. I renew myself to my practice, to my friends, to my loved ones, and to knowing strangers with intention.