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Mexico City – friendships that don’t end only begin!

July 18, 2011

Videos & Story!

Palanco W/ Marielle & kids


I’ve been coming to Teotihuacan for more than 15 years.  Way longer than I’ve known my husband – in fact I was a very young woman the first time I arrived in this city of pyramids.  For certain I was Princess Know It All, which you all understand is tongue & cheek – as I see her as my character that can do the most damage as she keeps me from learning new things, or looking at things I believe I’ve mastered making it difficult to gain a new perspective on an old wound.

Returning to Teotihuacan and living here with my girls is a very powerful experience, as I no longer head out on to the ruins, joining the groups that Lee leads – instead my journey is inside, it’s while I’m parenting, cooking and living. I immediately feel the energy shift within my body, a few days before arriving.  I get anxious just as I did years ago, however now I understand what is happening to me – I’m fixing to jump. In some way some how, my day to day life is about to get a kick start.

Teo, is major forward moving energy – locomotive is how I see it.  Any blocks in becoming my greatest self are removed, and I see who I am and how I’ve been living my day to day life. What I see this time around is actually a very positive view.  I moved to Nashville to live full time (I’ve had a home/ranch there for 9 years) almost 3 years ago, I arrived in Nashville kicking and screaming – yearning for Mexico and California.  Almost 3 years later I’ve fallen for Nashville and all it’s wonderful comfort – ’cause that’s what Nashville has become for me the most comfortable place I have ever lived.  The past few months Lee is being pulled to the west coast and so have I.  I’ve been putting it off, almost afraid! I’ve fallen into a comfy couch and I don’t wanna rock the show.

We arrived here Thursday afternoon, the easiest trip we’ve made yet – the car service was on time, the flights were only 2, one hour and forty-five minute ride each , both on time.  The kids didn’t have melt downs, I had plenty of real food to eat, Mexico City traffic was minimal allowing us to arrive at our house in Teo around 1:30pm – PERFECT.  Then on Friday my dear friend Marielle (if you remember she lived in Nashville with me my first 1.5 years and moved to Mexico City a year ago, we were all crushed) drove out to Teotihuacan.  We’d not seen each other since she left and it was a fantastic rendezvous.  Isabella and Lola were just as thrilled as Ines and Isabella had become best friends in Nashville.  Marielle and I shared lunch here, the women that run the kitchen here in The Dreaming House don’t mess around, bring ancestral food – no additives all WHOLE to the table. After lunch she returned to Mexico City leaving her girls Ines & Alexia to spend the weekend with us.

They played non-stop, sleeping in the hotel here and living like Eloise, Mexican Style.  On Saturday more inspiration showed up at my doorstep – Adriana and Maru, two dear friends from Mexico City.  To put it all in a nut shell I can only say that Mexican women have had and have a profound effect on who I am.  There is the devotion to family, relationships, beauty, style, cooking, laughter and strength that I strive for on a personal level.  Maybe it’s because in Mexico there is a role model, Guadalupe – the blessed mother.  As a woman here you are reminded every day that you can do it, that it is all inside of you to overcome and become.  Saturday was spent chattering away, and I found myself revealing my greatest desires to my friends.
Sunday the little girls all four of them and myself climbed into a chauffeured van – destination, play date Mexico City.  I packed snacks for the ride in and at one point giggled to myself thinking how wonderful that our world is so big, my girls not only go to the park for play dates but to the worlds largest city – 24 million people live there. As we drove through the hills I was amazed at the amount of humanity that inhabits this city – the house’s cover the hills – most of these house’s have no water or electricity.  My first journey to Mexico City I was shocked by what I referred to as poverty and I too had a difficulty understanding that there was anything else in this amazing city; as the shock of such poverty swarmed my vision.  However what I have come to understand is that our concept of poverty is off – here in Mexico people are not poor in the ways we are – yes they lack water & large quantities of mass produced foods. What they have is simple foods, rice, beans, soups, veggies.  They are incredibly wealthy as they have family ties and connections, they have a work ethic and determination and they don’t complain of what they don’t have. In the States after returning from living here in Mexico for a long period of time, I was slammed by the amount of poverty, lack of relationship to towns, Savannah and St. Augustine are novelty places turned into Disneyland environments as people crave to walk around an actual town.  Most of our towns and cities have become soloist suburban sprawls with out genuine centers.  The Disneyland type towns aren’t actually towns with local economy, they are full of tourist shops and Starbuck like corporation run restaurants and cafes.  Mexican’s still have towns and relationships with them, they also have not lost their connection to food, yet.
Poverty is a big word with a giant meaning.

Marielle lives in one of the most beautiful parts of Mexico City, Lomas de Chapultepec.  Her house is a perfect example of Mexican elegance, stone floors, stone fireplaces, large windows, Spanish accents & court yards. We spent the first part of our play date catching up, you see Marielle is in the middle of too jumping – they are moving to Toronto, packing the house as I write. 
The last time I sat and had tea with her she was packing to move here to Mexico City – I was sad she was leaving, and our conversation was all about the unknown. This time we spoke of how exciting it is to take a risk, to move our families and explore a new life. She herself has moved many times, from Paris, Mexico City, Nashville, back to Mexico City and now Toronto.
What I have loved about our friendship is that we are both expansive. 
We went to lunch in Palanco, fantastic Japanese restaurant and then walked the small area of shops and cafes, stopping at a park for the kids to play with remote controlled boats.  Palanco is the Beverly Hills of Mexico, the shops are amazing and the restaurants fantastic. Our girls are a perfect match, as they all understand just how big the world is, yet how small and intimate it can feel when connected to each other.

At 4:30 our driver returned and we said our goodbyes, the girls sobbed and I reflected on all the people that I am connected to that live far away.  I felt bad that I couldn’t mend Isabella’s heart break, but I know that I am teaching her to hold a line of connection with those she loves no matter where we go.

As my girls wept, the music played in the van and we passed through the area of shanty towns, my mind danced with the duality that exists in Mexico – you see there is no lie here it is all upfront and honest, life is complicated, people suffer, there are wealthy and there are poor and most often there are both.  Mexico is full of artists and intellectuals, farmers and indigenous magical people – I am alive here with it all.

Marielle, Maru, Senora Gina, Maria, Sonia, Belinda, Adriana, Emily, Veronica, Yolanda, Miriam, Maria – you are in my heart, my connection to you all moves through my blood and with gratitude I grow from our relationship.

Tomorrow Lee’s journey ends and we will drive 4 hours to San Miguel Allende, a magical town where I will have an adventure of what I don’t Know.





Part Two..The thread in my palms.

August 16, 2010

PART TWO: OF OUR HOUSE HUNTING JOURNEY.IMG_1450IMG_1451

My favorite part of the house was the back yard with its old stone walls and courtyard, I could so easily see a time when it was covered with tropical flowers and plants.

We left this house and went on to look at 4 more, each with fantastic stories – the one I liked the best was Spanish in style and had been built in the early 1900’s – again time held still, steady enough to be seen as I glanced into each room.

At the final house I got to talking to another real estate agent that had shown us the previous two houses.  She was really more of a historian than anything, she filled my mind with images of each home and it’s time.  I told her what I felt about the first house and she knew much!

She said a Civil War Colonel John Upham built it, he had lived there for only 5 years before dyeing and he’d only married a few years previous to his death.  This historian real estate gal also informed me that two men had taken the house over in the eighties and restored it to it’s beautiful self, leaving two apartments. She said that most of St. Augustine had lived in these apartments at one time or another – before it had been restored a ton of folks filled the hallways as boarders, WAY TOO MANY PEOPLE, as I heard the Colonel say.  Lastly a woman bought the house opening the doors to the apartments attempting to make it all flow, but sadly what that did was open the house to the chaotic energy of way too many transient folks.  I understood that to buy such a house one would have to restore this house completely for it to ever regain it’s congruity – doing anything less would only annoy the Colonel.

All of this casa hunting got me to think about whispering walls and how homes hold on to time.  As we returned to Tara, and were greeted by Memaw and Idora I felt the comfort of the world that has lived for so many generations here in this Magnolia Mansion.  I’ve fallen in love with the view of the St. Johns River as we sit watching the sunsets to the sound of the girls singing and performing for us nightly.  I enjoy the giant Magnolia tree, counting her last few dried up blossoms as the summer shifts from the beginning to the end.

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Memaw (my mother in law) is in good spirits; she is getting up every day, sitting with us and joking.  She feels more relaxed than ever, interesting enough as the last of her good friends have been passing on over to the other side.  Of most recent Dr. Fleming Roach, he was one of her suitors and dear friends just died a few weeks ago.  Memaw is seeing an end of time and via mee and the girls the beginning of the next.  Last night I sat at her feet, she told me she is proud that I am the mother of her last grandchildren and I felt great pride.  My eyes teared a bit, ‘cause I have wished that she could really know me, travel with us and see the world through our eyes.  However what I know is that it is perfect, as she has mirrored to me and opened a window to her time; what a grand gift this has been.  I love that the girls are able to come here and hopefully form memories of their own.
As Memaw is chatty and upbeat Idora is quieter by the minute, she still gets up everyday to sit in the kitchen and watch the bustle of this busy house, but her words are fewer and fewer.

The other night I was sleeping in the Rose Room, named for it’s rose covered canopy bed, rose colored carpeting and beautiful floral stain glassed window.   The dreams in this room are outstanding; climbing into bed is like climbing into a dream traveling ship – filling my rest with epic journeys.   IMG_1150

So, there I was dreaming away that I had spider man thread that pours from my palms on command, my girls had it too. There was a man named Deacon, large, dark haired, handsome and the air of someone who lives in both worlds “good and bad” however his core was noble.  He was watching over Lola and Bella because there were folks – who wanted people who could weave life with their threads.  The interesting thing about this dream was that the time of it all was long ago, and I was totally conscious in my dreaming understanding the concept of the thread, you see for years now I have worn a string around my neck that the Oracle of Tibet placed – this thread was symbolic of me finding my own thread – through writing and health. Our first night in Malibu the thread broke and I lost it.  I knew that it was all perfect because now I have within my own hands the ability to write – and to cook food with these fingers that can heal my body and yours.

I heard in my dream someone calling out a name, a name I couldn’t make clear, and the voice was far off.  I opened my eyes and heard clearly – it was Idora!

I flew out of bed, she’d fallen in the middle of the night, and unable to climb back into bed; she’d been on the floor for some time.

Her blood pressure had dropped, she was scared and sweaty.  Nella (she is the nurse here) was trying to get her up when I entered the room. It took the two of us to lift her and I was in shock, I realized how hard it is for her to move her body every day, how scary it must be for her to fear falling every time she gets up and goes.  You see she still gets up every morning, dresses, heads down stairs (via the elevator) and takes her place in the kitchen.  I understand this struggle as I too have fought to stand up and carry on with my busy day – strapped with pain, threatening to steal my freedom.

I felt time grip my fingers and I wrapped my imaginary thread from my palm around her wrists – I was awake but completely connected to my dream.  She looked deep into my eyes and I saw how close death sits along side of her.  I wiped her forehead with the love that I touch my children, whispering into her ears that I was there and to hold tight – I adore this woman who too has opened another window with a view of time.

Idora told me the next morning that she never really had many friends, that she kept to her self and this family was her life.  I find myself walking by her and kissing her on her cheeks every chance I get, I want to touch her and Memaw with love.  I want to whisper into their ears how valuable they are.

I know that once Memaw and Idora are gone someone will come into this house, remove the doors that have kept time still here and all that whispers in these walls will fly free towards the river.

I’m sure someone like me will show up on occasion and hear the footsteps of AD Davis, Ben McCormick, Lee McCormick, Skipper & his girls, my sister in law Ms. Barbara, Lisa and Ernest and all the others.

The strangest thing is that the large front door is harder and harder to open, in fact as I was leaving I had to use the back door to exit– this old Magnolia Mansion is holding on tight to what was.

For now we have decided that Flow -ida isn’t the place that we want to move to just now, LA is calling and if all that seems to be real out there is – than fo’sho we will head west.  However what I do KNOW about LA is that it can be a city of illusions and what if’s.  I’m comfy in Nashville, I know this little city and have grown to appreciate the lack of chaos and ease that the south holds.

We are heading home to Nashville where Bella will start a new school and I will clean up my messy office and get my ducks in a row – as they say LUCK is when preparation meets opportunity.

I’m gonna do my best to step to the plate and welcome the next level of experience, by pulling on the threads that can be found within my own two hands.

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