Posted on by Jessica Dofflemyer

Cheerios, Harleys and Open Gates

It’s on.  The routine has begun.

School started yesterday and I’m back on familiar roads, driving between the post office, the gas station and the local market.  As I traverse routes fourteen years familiar, I try to remind myself to see these pathways with fresh eyes.  Not just fall asleep at the wheel and move through turns and side streets with unconscious habit.

It’s a constant practice of stirring myself awake.

photo by Jeb - all rights reserved

I reach for reminders of what it’s like to feel the new.  To experience each moment, wide open.  Just a month ago I wandered through the village of Big Sur, watching mountain sentries of that river valley reveal themselves at first daylight.  Curiosity lead me to a courtyard full of statues and alters, where the nearby gas station attendant opened the padlock gate to let me inside.

“You just want to look around?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I can open the gate for you.”

photo by Jessica Dofflemyer - all rights reserved

Later that same morning I settled in at the Big Sur River Inn for a cup of coffee by the fire.  Three leathered bikers were eating breakfast and the one with the bandana tied around his forehead boldly invited me to join them on their weekend tour.

“Who knows!”  he said, “It could be the most incredible day of your life.  It’s beautiful today!”

I was heading in the opposite direction, not fated for a ride on the back of a Harley that morning.  But what may have begun as a classic guy-tries-to-pick-up-girl scenario, actually blossomed.  Once it was established that I would certainly not be joining them but that I was interested to hear about their trip while I finished my coffee, Enthusiastic Biker’s friend joined in.  He was more quiet and about 175 pounds bigger.

I don’t know exactly how it happened, but within twenty minutes a genuine conversation unfolded between us.  Topics spanned our children (“they grow up so fast!”), Arthur Miller’s “The Crucible” (“I just saw my daughter dance this production at her university”), to the Salem witch trials (“Can you imagine living in those times?” ).

Though we all may have been different ages and had different interests, we shared one thing in common:  a curiosity to experience something new.  A willingness to share about ourselves.  And it seemed easier to do since we all were out of our familiar elements.

So, as I make my way through that same cereal aisle at the grocery store back home – the one I’ve perused plenty of times – how do I keep my experience with the Cheerios as fresh as my fireside chat with the bikers?

I guess for now, step one is just asking the question.

photo by Jessica Dofflemyer - all rights reserved

 

Posted on by Jessica Dofflemyer

The First Day of 2011

I wake in the dark to an empty house, well-rested.  Brew coffee and write.

As the first shadows begin to appear in the early morning sun rise, I make my way to my car and drive to one of the most beautiful beaches I know.  My steps are the first imprints of 2011 on these golden sands, wandering slowly under a pinking sky.

Often during this time of year the waves are so big you cannot walk to the end of the beach.  This morning the winter swell is moderate, the tide low.

photo courtesy of Pepe Conley

I have an all-access pass to the place that is my temple.  Not a soul in sight.

At the fresh-water spring that flows through rock and thick green moss, I strip down and stand in the tall fall.  Look out at the vast ocean that stretches north into nothing but horizon.  Salt and sea mist rise and cool water anoints my crown.  Good morning!

In the afternoon Jeb and I load up my car with good friends and a big bowl of Thai squash soup.  The scent of garlic and curry wafts through the vehicle as we make our way to the Taro Patch where a community potluck is being held.  Hawaiian chanting, African drumming, songwriters and a didgeridoo.  Two couples get up and renew vows before the 400+ crowd in ‘sacred union’ ceremony.  There is interpretive dance that I think has something to do with a butterfly emerging from its cocoon.

All of Kauai’s woo woo crew are here in a potpourri of bright batiks, Hawaiian prints, Burning Man accessories, fedoras and board shorts.  We are an eclectic family all perspiring together in the muggy grass.  But we’re happy by the riverside, in the sacred space of this place at the base of Kalalea – Anahola’s distinctive mountain.

Children run about safely unattended.  Jeb keeps scaling jagged lava rock and I can’t decide if I should pluck him down or just stop watching.  Elijah and John Dumas are on the stage singing about the freedom of living your dreams.  They’ve altered the standard “Happy New Year” so that we all may transcend time and space, by simply saying “Happy New Now.”  It’s New Year’s Day on Kauai.

The event culminates with a “Goddess Chant” but I’m confused to see all the women at the back of the stage and a man with the mic in the front singing about opening our hearts.  We gather our things and exit before I have a chance to see them come front and center.

Back home with friends, we eat a simple dinner of garden pesto and pasta.  Crisp bread and red wine.  For dessert, maple wafers and tangerines by the fire, while a friend from Tahiti tells tales of diving with dolphins in his thick French accent.  Jeb demonstrates how to make a blade of grass whistle in your hands.

From Kauai, I’m wishing you a beautiful new year and a most excellent ‘Now’!

 

Posted on by Jessica Dofflemyer · 2 Comments

The Last Day of 2010

Jeb dresses like a Jedi warrior in second-hand karate pants and a bathrobe, then takes his harmonica outside to play to the birds.

“They’re coming all around me, mom.  They like it.  Come see.  Come!”

To me, they don’t seem to be coming around more than usual, though he keeps the harmonica sucked in his mouth, pointing with hands at birds under distant trees or flying high above.  His eyebrows arch at me, silently saying “see” in affirming proof.

Both St. Francis and an orchestra conductor in one, he wanders out to the field, moving both hands in time to the sound of his inhales and exhales.  Barefoot in grass and mud, he shares his music with the trees and all of the earthly creatures.

Later I take Jeb to Rex’s house and get the last day of 2010 to myself.  In the afternoon two girlfriends I haven’t seen in a long while come over.  We drink Patron and lemon.  Eat kale salad and hazelnut crackers.  Bing cherries and dark chocolate.

One friend has tickets to the ‘gala’ fundraising event and a new black sequins dress.  My other friend will be enjoying a quiet meal with friends around the fire.  I haven’t decided how I’ll bring in the new year.  There are numerous options, the best of which has me leaning toward a night at home.

I wondered if I was simply losing gumption by settling in for a new year’s night alone.  But when I dipped into the outdoor bath, soaking in the hot water beneath the star sky, I knew that all was well with the crickets and I.

2011 Resolution #1:  learn more constellations.  Stars are an ancient navigational tool.  When in doubt, look up.

photo courtesy of nasaimages.org

Fresh from the bath, there was Lotus Garden body butter.  The softness of a pashmina shawl from Nepal.  I was tucked in beneath my mother’s cream colored afghan.  Bullfrogs sounded down by the stream.  Quiet.

After a whirlwind December tour of California, I was finally back home – landed.  After a full and challenging year, 2010 was coming to a close.  I felt complete.  Even ready for bed at 8:24pm.

No shoulds about it.  I climbed in.  Who says you have to stay up till midnight?  My body wanted rest.  And there’s a difference between rest and sleep.  Sleep can sometimes seek escape.  On the last day of 2010 I wasn’t trying to hide.  I simply wanted to transcend all concepts of what I was supposed to do.  Set the tone for 2011 and stay true to the moment.  And this moment called for rest.  Which I did, soundly.

And on this first day of 2011-  1/1/11 – here’s to waking up.

The Breeze at Dawn
The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you.
Don’t go back to sleep.

You must ask for what you really want.
Don’t go back to sleep.

People are going back and forth across the doorsill
where the two worlds touch.

The door is round and open.
Don’t go back to sleep

~ Rumi

photo by Jessica Dofflemyer - all rights reserved