Eat, Pray , Love: San Francisco Style

Divorce is a no fun, painful, rip out your heart experience. If you’ve been there you know what I am talking about. Eat, Pray, Love, the book by Elizabeth Gilbert draws a true picture of divorce. Elizabeth suffered for months and then decided to make a healing journey. She went to Italy were she ate great food. Then she contemplated her innermost being in India. During the last leg of the journey, Elizabeth found her true love in Thailand.  Before her journey even began, a psychic said it would be so.

I read this book after my own painful, rip out my heart divorce. A trip like Elizabeth’s sounded like just the thing, but stuff like that just doesn’t happen to me. Or so I thought. I too visited a psychic. I was blown away when he predicted a romantic journey for me. Could it happen? The answer popped up soon after, just as the psychic said it would. Thanks to Facebook I found my long ago first love, living in San Francisco, and single. We chatted; he visited, and we found that we had evolved in similar ways. Sooo… I spent my own eat, pray, love summer in San Francisco. Italian, Chinese and Japanese restaurants, not to mention plays, nightclubs and the ballet were all part of my experience. San Francisco is unique in that many cultures are represented within blocks of each other. I spent romantic evenings on the balcony of my lover’s high-rise apartment overlooking the Golden Gate Bridge. The pray part of the story played out in the many San Franciscan yoga studios. Since the city by the bay boasts a yoga studio on every corner I studied Bikram, flow yoga and more. One afternoon while my lover and I walked hand in hand along the wharf, I realized…I am living the Eat, Pray, Love story, only mine is the compact version. It’s all here within a few blocks and it’s happening all at once.  It was an amazing summer, but long distance love is difficult and this one played itself out, or at least was put on hold. We continue a communication and maintain a perhaps I’ll visit soon conversation, it’s a maybe sorta thing….somewhat complicated. I will leave you with a quote from Elizabeth Gilbert.

A true soul mate is probably the most important person you'll ever meet, because they tear down your walls and smack you awake. But to live with a soul mate forever? Nah. Too painful. Soul mates, they come into your life just to reveal another layer of yourself to you, and then leave.

Something to Think About

In an effort to reduce some of what sucks in the world, I buy fair trade chocolate. The reason: a picture I saw a few years ago.  It showed a young boy, about ten years old with the muscles of a body builder, but very empty eyes. He was a chocolate slave in Africa. He had been trafficked, stolen from his family to harvest cocoa. Sadly, this young man had never even heard of chocolate, nor had he ever been to school. Sorta took the joy out of chocolate for me. I know that I may be reducing the joy of chocolate for you too (my apologies) but modern day slavery is a huge problem, an estimated 200 million are in fact enslaved. How many work for you?  If you buy chocolate, cotton and coffee they do. Many are children. The good news is that fair trade chocolate and coffee are available. Yes, I know the price is higher..but you can reduce the level of suck in the world by buying them. Starbucks and most organic chocolates are fair trade. Hershey’s says that it is making an effort. We will see.  Newman’s is for sure slave free chocolate. Enjoy your fair trade goodies and know that it helps the world.

A video: warning it could break your heart

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LD85fPzLUjo

Facebook Rules

Making a Facebook account to keep in touch with your adult children is a good idea. Right! It can be as long as you follow a few rules. Learn from my mistakes.  Do not post on a picture of your son in a situation that you think is highly dangerous “be careful out there, my baby boy”, no matter how worried you are. (In my defense my firefighter son was standing in front of a raging forest fire preparing to battle it, I still feel sick to my stomach). Comments like this embarrass them. A lot! They can even get you un-friended. If a picture of your grown son, in a toga (yep) finds its way to your news feed, make no comment. Many comments may occur to you, such as “whoa dude, I am not sending you to college to party every night”. Even, “hey nice toga” is not a good idea.  It really isn’t safe to say much at all.  Maybe a like, if you’re okay with all your friends seeing your son wrapped in a sheet in front of a keg, surrounded by sketchy friends. Oh, and you better not call his friends sketchy either.  You can wish your adult child happy birthday, as long as you don’t get all gushy and say something like “Happy Day to my best boy”.  Or “remember that birthday when you cried because you didn’t get a Star Wars cake”. It is much better to maintain a nonchalant attitude. Maybe a few likes on pictures, or “hey, how is English 101 coming along?” Remember, they may be your “baby”, and you love him/her very much, but keep it casual: on Facebook anyway.

Real Women

Miley Cyrus steps out in her bra and “bam”, she is front page news. She shakes her behind on T.V. and the country can’t stop talking about her. Enough already!  Let me introduce you to the Warrior Princess, the epitome of fierce womanhood.  Mindy Budgor, a twenty seven year old southern California girl went to Kenya, and became a warrior princess in the Maasai tribe. She was the first female to do it. This young women spent a month sleeping on leaves, practicing spear throwing, and went days without food.  She earned blisters and chased buffalo. She killed a goat and drank its blood. Fierce! At the end of training she speared a large buffalo, earning for herself warrior status among the Maasai. During her training, she did not brush her hair or teeth once, but said she never felt more beautiful. I bet she was.  She earned the right for other Maasai women to become warriors, if they wish. Well, I guess those southern California girls are fierce, fresh and fine. I stand in awe.

Top of the Bucket List

Confession: I was a hippie (a really young one). I wore a peace symbol with my bell bottoms. I rebelled against the establishment and hated the Viet Nam war. I frustrated my poor parents who just didn’t understand my dress let alone my unconventional thinking.  Fast forward to the present, after too much conforming of the necessary “you need a job” kind, and let me explain my yen to attend that crazy hippie, radical festival in southern Nevada called Burning Man. For those you to whom Burning Man is unfamiliar, the art and music festival began in the 1960’s in San Francisco on a beach. Peacenik hippies, who believed in free expression, joined together, each bringing something original to the party.  The celebration quickly became too large and moved to southern Nevada where 55,000 people gather every year to “burn the man”.  The man is of course the establishment.  Artists create for the sake of creating and everyone is a participant. Money exchange is not allowed inside the camp.  Spectating is discouraged. Total involvement is encouraged.  Burning Man encourages expression. For example, if fairies are your thing, your fellow burners will love and admire your fairy wings. This is a place to throw off conventions and play. If you like unicorns, than be one.  Anything goes, except negativity. How wonderful it would be, after years doing what is necessary to raise a family, please the boss and be respectable, to attend Burning Man and manifest once again the “hippie chick” that still exists within.

P.S. Check out Burning Man at burningman.com

It’s groovy!

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The loss is of a loved one a difficult thing. My mother passed away on August fourth this summer.  Though this was a time of mourning, it was also a time when my family came together after a long separation.  Despite a saddened heart, I looked forward to gathering with family, most of whom I had not seen in years.

 Matt and Jeff, my young nephews arrived a few days before the funeral.  As children these brothers had lived with me for one year. They were four and six years of age at the time.  They are now in their twenties, with wives and productive careers.    Jeff has three young children, Holly, Gavin and Silas.   They arrived, exhausted and grateful to bunk on my couch and floor.  The following days were filled with talk about our lives, the children and some “remember whens”.  We laughed over the time the boys had removed their clothes so they could play in a pile of corn feed without getting them dirty. Despite our grieving we were contented and pleased to be in each other’s company again.

During one afternoon of togetherness, a silly conversation grew into one of those inside jokes that families often have. It became one of those wonderful and funny things that can only happen among people who are comfortable with each other.   A business idea arose when my nephew mentioned a coffee shop in Seattle that features shirtless female baristas. We laughed over this concept and ideas began to roll. I thought a shop catering to women would be preferable; a shop where talented male baristas shed their shirts but kept their suspenders along with pants and fireman hats. Of course these men would be well built, muscular and handsome. They would draw in female customers by the hundreds and we would make a fortune. Jeff suggested the name “The Firehouse”. We continued this “business planning” from time to time throughout the week, strategizing and laughing over hiring methods. It was fun and it lightened everyone’s frame of mind.

We laughed a lot, but more importantly we became close again. Plans for “The Firehouse” continue via face book. I love this silly discussion, because it draws my nephews near again. It’s a silly joke and I don’t think there will ever be a “Firehouse” coffee shop, but the warmth and laughter our private little yarn ignites is worth so much more. If “The Firehouse” ever becomes a reality, I will hang a picture of my mother on its walls.

P.S. It was a nephew who suggested naming my blog “The Firehouse”.