First Morning in Santa Fe, Missed Flight Blessings and Mother's Day Reflection

Sitting in the yard at my airbnb and realizing I don't have my Mother's phone number on this phone! Of course none of my sisters (who live with or near her) are answering their phones.

What can be better than in a new place to reach out to connect with the very source of your life itself, Mother. It will happen later, I'm sure.

I was thankfully met at the airport and taken to dinner last night by some friends. The conversation ran from teaching music to elementary school children, to permaculture with Native Americans, to "white" people reconnecting with their indigenous roots, to how we co-create with our ancestors outside of linear time.

We all realized that we didn't know the name of our mother's great-grandmother. (Do you know yours?)

This is a photo taken from the yard at my little casita. I've barely gotten myself up to do more than shower and try to call my Mom for Mother's Day because I hurt my back just as I was packing the car to leave for the airport on Friday.

Note the difference in "leaving Fri" and "first morning Sun." That's because hurting my back caused me to miss my flight. I wound up having to call a Lyft (since I'd already left my car in long term parking) to go back to my now vacant house, to fly out the next day instead. Thankfully the new owner asked me to leave the guest room furnishings, so I had a fully furnished bedroom to sleep in.

Another fortunate thing about missing the flight was that because I was here one extra night I got to attend the birthday party of a friend I hadn't seen in a few years. At the party were a group of my oldest friends in San Francisco, from when I first moved there right after college. We mostly lost touch over the years due to my interests evolving and theirs pretty much remaining smoking pot outdoors with good food as much as possible and otherwise just making the rent.

It was perfect both to see them right before leaving and to have the intro explanation for my presence be the missed flight and how fortunate it was. This prompted a string of stories from folks about seeming misfortunes they had encountered that had led to very fortunate outcomes. I call it the Lemonade from Lemons story series. The whole night wove in and out of such stories, as we sat around a fire pit with good food, most of them smoking pot, and completed for me a circle that needed completing.

And now for this new leg of the journey....

Wish my back wasn't still injured. Movement is torturous and slow. But somehow I'll get food, find my mother's phone number to wish her a Happy Mother's Day, and get on with figuring out what I'm doing in this little town.