Last Playa journal

October 17, 2013

“Where we walk, abundance goes before us.” – Dispenza

That was one of the first things I saw when I opened the Traveler book on this, my last full day at Playa. I actually feel my throat closing and a few tears welling up – and that’s something for me, really. My predecessors mentioned so many things that turned out to be true – Lefty, the spiders in the sink, the sunrise, oh the sunrise – and I’m touched, so touched and so grateful. I am such a cynic and yet I recognize this as the heartfelt gift it is. If it weren’t 23 degrees out, I would go out to see the sunrise. Hell, I may do it anyway.

TO TAKE THE LESSONS THE WORLD GIVES TO US: THIS IS THE WORK OF OUR LIVES.

VIVA PLAYA!

October 15, 2013

I HAVE BEEN VISITED!

Lefty the cat is here, talking up a storm. It’s so nice to have animal company. I asked her: “How am I supposed to get work done with all this cuteness around?” It’s pretty awesome.

October 16, 2013

Took a walk along the playa this AM. Lots of bones and animal dung amongst the grasses. Last night I had some whiskey with Kristin, David and Jamie. I really like everyone here – those folks as well as Diane, Beth, Rachel, Lisa, Barb and Kathy. Everyone who works here is great. I feel so grateful as I near the end of my stay. Two weeks have gone fast, but so rich. I definitely have grown as a person for being here.

The isolation is interesting – and that’s not a euphemism. Others say they can’t get enough, but personally, I need the presence of other if not connection with them. I’m pretty city like that..

“When you leave on a trip, the last act you perform on the way out of the house – both in a literal and figurative sense – is closing the door.” – Dispenza

Appropriate for right now, when I’m starting to wrap things up. I may pack a little today – and obviously tomorrow. It shouldn’t be that hard. I also need to clean.

Soundtrack: Beatles, Michael Franti, Kool and the Gang, Amos Lee, Tori Amos … and so much more.

Journaling (what did you expect?)

October 14, 2013

Feeling much better – though on very little sleep due to some very strong coffee in Bend yesterday. Kind of struggling to wake up.

“All travel is inner travel.” - Dipenza

Playa visuals

More Playa bloggin'

October 12, 2013

Mornings are the best here! I wake up so happy – unlike normal, when I so often awake with anxiety and dread.

October 13, 2013

Rough couple days. Crying like I haven’t cried in months. Nightmares with soundtracks, for God’s sake. Fucking Evanescence, “My Immortal”. I dreamt Adam was leaving me. Saying the word divorce in my dream was like someone shooting me in the gut. That line there’s just so much that time cannot erase … it kills me. The nightmares followed me up here. Those frigging bastards.

WRITTEN IN LARGE LETTERS IN THE JOURNAL, AS WELL AS A FACEBOOK STATUS:

“We leave home behind to collect a newer and fuller definition of home.” – Joseph Dispenza, “The Way of the Traveler”

Even more journaling

October 9, 2013

The anxiety is back. Went down to the Pioneer Saloon for breakfast and am having trouble settling in back by myself. I have a weird lump in my throat. I should go outside, but I feel glued to the chair. Slept at 10:30 p.m., woke at 1 a.m., couldn sleep again until nearly 5 a.m. Woke at 6:30 a.m. for sunrise, fell back asleep until 8:30 a.m. Just went outside for a minute. “Blue Bayou” on iTunes. Being alone has never been terribly easy for me and yet it’s situational. I’m an introvert, but too much alone time makes me a bit crazy.

Met Rachel’s dog Pepper yesterday. What a sweetie. I miss my pups. I hope they’re behaving themselves. It’s me and the writing now. I’m up against it. But it’s not a battle. It’s – I don’t know what it is. But it’s not a battle.

October 11, 2013

Yesterday was busy! Went to Bend and then had a residents’ dinner. Bend was okay. It felt very manufactured, a lot like Ashland. I guess I’m used to Berkeley. Tonight we’re going to the Paisley Saloon. My computer blue-screened, but (knock wood) seems okay. Coffee, 25 degrees out. Damn. I just went out and my bare feet are stinging. Dumbass. Probably nine hours until I see another human being. Somehow I’m okay with that. I’m happy that I’m okay with the solitude.