the words, images, and experiences since i have last written are stuck at the tip of my tongue. it is hard to concentrate here, i feel like my vision and mind are being constantly stimulated to the point of explosion. and when i have down time, i don’t know what to do so i keep busy in conversation with others.
if i could write, i would write about:
my homesickness- all the beautiful people i miss in los angeles, my sister in oregon, the comfort of my cats laying next to me, the struggles of long distance relationships, V in guam, the meloncolia that visited me since the day i arrived to Rio and has settled in with me in my bedroom.
i would write about all the questions i have about this country, this city, and how movimiento happens here. this city is as expensive (and sometimes more than) los angeles. the favelas are all around the city, on hills, somehow managing to be “out of sight” unless i look up to the sky. more questions than answers at this point.
and if all went well with sharing all of the above, then i would move on to share about the heaviness of my heart these days. im carrying a lot of gunk, feels a little gooey, no se donde empezar a describir lo que veo y lo siento. somebody ask me a question about how i am doing and maybe i will be able to answer it…not sure, but i can try.
my santa cruz amiga once asked me, how is your heart? i would love to bring that question back up and answer from where i am this morning.
my heart is feeling lots of heaviness, me duele un poco. the last few weeks of life in los angeles was…i can’t describe it. it was…hard. trying to balance all my hearts desires can be quite a task. learning boundaries and re-learning lessons that i would have hoped not to learn again. my loved ones were super human loving and we all did our best given the situation. gracias.
my heart-friends definitely came through for me, last minute to help me pack up and get me to the airplane. once at lax and dallas, i basically fell into little pieces that i had to quickly gather and glue back together so that i can survive a long ride to my destination.
as i write, i realize there is a story to tell about my journey here, how it has been, etc.
i bet other writers have been here, in this moment where they too question whether or not to move forward and keep telling their story. am afraid to keep going, i don’t have the time this morning to “fall into pieces” and put myself back together before my 10am meeting. so for now, i will finish sharing with you about how my heart is doing….
she feels a little better now that i began writing. she is very excited and grateful to be in the home country of theatre of the oppressed (TO) where one strategy resistance has erupted through is teatro. fascinated by the power of the arts, i am learning a lot about how therapeutic and moving this type of theatre can be. feeling grateful and excited to be a practitioner myself one day.
the women around me, the other students of TO traveling with me, have taught me about color and creating new friendships while traveling. let me explain- color: they laugh a lot, and desire just as much as i do, to live their lives con alegria. they fill my heart with vibrant colors that warm my spirit and remind to do as i need to do for myself, take it slower than the city allows me to. we are deepening friendships, at first out of necessity because we could relate to each others feelings of being homesick, and now out of love and respect for one another. i appreciate their risk-taker spirits, something we share in common.
with that, i have to get going now. it suggested i just write and not worry about editing for now, will continue when i can. so here they are, my thoughts in raw form.
p.s. in case your wondering why i have included this post in the love/connection series- it is because here, away from home and my familiar ones, i am learning to love myself in new ways. taking care of oneself away from home, from stability, and my loved ones (my loved ones that are not all in los angeles t00), has been difficult. definitely went through a period of un poco de depresion aqui en Rio. so mothering myself back to normality (not there yet, but being patient with it) became a matter of survival here. if i didn’t step up to care for myself, i might have taken the first flight back to los angeles available…more on this sometime.