Day 679: Home (10th April)

I never thought I’d say it, but I’m home.

This Tiu is my actual friend!

Since I decided to fly back, I have used the phrase ‘back to the UK’, not ‘home’, because England has never felt like home to me. I don’t dislike it. I see its benefits and its blessings, but I never felt my roots.

On April 2^nd, flying home, I was met at the airport by a creature beyond compare, the inimitable Tiu de Haan (she is English-ish, with lots of refugee influence from other parts of Europe, and she has the best name in the world ever according to me and Fatboy Slim). She was a very tired girl, but she dragged herself all the way to Heathrow to be the first person ever to meet me off the plane on my way home. That gesture in itself went deeper than I could have realised, and then to top it all, we got to talk. That whole TFL trip back up to North London, Tiu was with me. I got to have a proper go on her. It was mint.

Next stop my cousin Ruth, ready to welcome me into her home and give me a bed and a hearth while I found my own. A wonderful homecoming to see her, laugh with her, enjoy her in person rather than as half a face on Skype, wifi permitting. The pond, although I didn’t make full use of it (9 degrees, straight off a long haul flight from Colombia? I thought it would be kinder to myself to wait) was a sense of landing too.

Ari (dog) doesn't give a shit about me, but he's cute.

I was visited on Sunday (3^rd) by a suspicion that I might be a character in a children’s novel who had a huge adventure and then wakes up, thinking ‘did I dream the whole thing?’ and then finds a dragon’s scale, a fairy’s hair or some mark or other that proves that no, distant and surreal as it seems, the adventure did occur.

I met with Nick (a peach from earlier in my London life), my friend-brother-inspiration Rob - missed an appointment, so delighted I was to see him – and then off to Paris with my utter favourites, Frank Partners. This time I had the pleasure of Adam and Tina. We Eurostarred, rehearsed, prepared and relaxed. We waited, drank coffee and ate tiny pastries and a vol-au-vent luncheon, then did a zinging forum theatre piece. I felt grateful to be welcomed back in such a way, with joy and playfulness (everyone working that day, in Paris, New York and Newbury, was tasked with sending each other photos and lovely messages, which we did), and lovely people. The next day only Sarah FFing Lonton on my plate, a whole two hours or so, just talking, enjoying, planning, being. Delicious.

It's only KATH JONES!

And then Bristol called, and my sweet soul sister Kath Jones. We have communicated not quite every day since I left England. She is my rock and my heart-holder and there she was, Actual Kath Jones, in the proper flesh, to play with, dance with, love. YES!!!! And she lives with a baby (not hers) so I had a hold or seven of him, sang to him, enjoyed his babyness. And then (how much better can it get?) I went to see beloved Ruth and David, WITH KATH (I almost popped). It was so nice to be there that we didn’t leave, but stayed an extra day and (get this) a whole bunch of other wonderful friends visited to hang out. Another Rob to play with, an Anna, an Eddie and a few other sweet souls. We made music. We sat together. We ate and talked and enjoyed ourselves.

By mistake, I sat between Ruth and Eddie as they sang. What a fine mistake to make! My very own live stereo in perfect, lilting harmony, in a room filled with some of my favourite people. Good God, universe, what did I do to deserve this? And I got to play in the way I like to play the best, and I am grateful, grateful, grateful.

View from my new room

I almost couldn’t bear to leave, so I accepted Ruth and David’s offer of a room, so this place and these people will be my home while I am here. I can’t quite get my head around that, but I give thanks. It was hard to leave Kath and Bristol, but going back meant more Tiu time, and Kate, lovely Greg and Ari and cousin Ruth again. It meant JP and Yvonne Tonk in Victoria station. And all this? That’s just the people here. I’ve heard from many fabulous souls across the world (and especially in South America) over the last weeks too.

And as if that wasn’t enough, I spent a magical weekend, full of yoga, love and deepest friendship, with my beloved Lilley, Daniel and their daughter Tulsi. Home is not the place, but the people. From this trip I learned that I can make my home in any bed, in any valley, in any place on earth by finding myself in that place and holding hands with friends, opening up for them to show me who there are, whether I’ve met them before or not.

Not mine, I'm afraid

Coming back, I see with clearer eyes the beauty of this place and I feel my roots, possibly for the first time, in this soil. I feel my heart come alive in the hearts of those I love here, in the humour of this place and in its strange formality, mixed with irreverent laughter. I see the trees with different eyes, and celebrate their buds and blossoms, the new green leaves making their entrance for the year. I feel myself welcomed, held and loved. I feel at home.

Does that mean I’ll never leave again? Of course not. Does it mean I’ll keep England as my base? Not necessarily. But does it mean I’m home? Yes it does.

I’m home within myself and in this place, right now, and I am rich with friends, familiarity and love. What more could home entail in this moment? This is abundantly, beautifully, and very Britishly, enough.

Day 678: Love

This is how i feel towards the universe right now There is not a moment that I breathe I am not grateful.  (Forgive the odd formatting. Blogger isn't playing as it usually does today. It may be feeling better tomorrow). Today (written 1st April 2016) the day my eight-and-some-month journey through this incredible continent ends, I am grateful for ease and presence, living this moment and not tomorrow’s. Tomorrow’s time will come. This morning, I awoke with these words in my mouth: I vow to do my best and shine without striving (and this to be as much as do). I think I was reflecting on what I am taking from this trip. God, what am I taking? I take a commitment to make art, make music and create. Many of my happiest moments have been these. Wrapping palm fronds around sticks to make doll legs, sewing trousers and dresses, on dolls or for myself, cutting t-shirts, drawing mandalas, singing.  I love to work when work feels like play, or service. I adore the liberty of daily yoga classes because they're advertised and people come. I’m fascinated by massage and energy work. These are not intellectual practices, and maybe that’s the point. I don’t mind routine tasks as long as I have some autonomy. I am more than happy to mess around with shit, be it cow, donkey or sheep, in service of strong roots and healthy crops. I am not wise with sun. I have burnt badly more than once (three times, maybe four), the last being no more than a week ago at most. I should know better. I am peeling dark shreds of skin right now, and great sheets of it too, so you know... every cloud. But I could do with being wiser. My skin will thank me, or protest, later. The time to act is now.This in itself is a lesson. The time to act is now. The time to follow the impulse and to listen to it is when it happens. I can go back and catch it up, but by listening right off the bat, the ball is caught. I make this commitment too: to keep my ears peeled for that little voice before it shouts, and follow it. This way, I have learnt, lies ease, discovery and joy. Among the things that increase my levels of happiness in disproportionate measure are animals, and more than anything dogs (no surprises there), cats and following at a slow and grumpy trot, donkeys. I could skip the donkeys, if truth be told, but I´d be happy with them there. The jury’s out on goats.  Nature. That’s a sweeping statement, that. Grass, trees, vegetation, green. Water, if it can be. Bugs and butterflies. Hummingbirds, given the choice (and somewhere, there is always choice). Sounds of nature, singing, grating, plooping (there’s a bird that ploops and sounds like water drops from high landing in a bucket). Mountains. Oh, mountains. Thank god for you. I love to live up high. I love to see the tall V of a valley, the rising slope of the sister hills, clouds rising or dipping down, hiding summits, changing the face of everything. I love to watch insects work and listen to the wind stir up banana leaves (they’re big – they make a noise like an intruder pushing past). I love to wake to this wondrous natural world making its entrance to the day. I don’t care that the cockerels crow at stupid hours and set each other off, nor that the dogs find time to shout before the sun is up. I don’t object to being woken up by birdsong. Town or city: great in small doses. I like to eat in markets, watch people do their thing, enjoy the buzz. I like to shop. I feel a bit ashamed of this and yet it's true. And then I like to go back to the farm, the mountain, whatever place I am currently calling home, and just be there. People. The quality of my connections with people shapes the quality of my life. My life is rich, rich, rich and I can only kneel and give my thanks to any being listening for the people who fill my life with their  Laughter, openness, vulnerability, tears. That fabulous Spanish wor, ‘sensatez’, described to me today as ‘absolute authenticity, always’. Meditation, yoga, practice. These things make a difference. Even just a few minutes a day. And most of the people who have stolen my heart in one way or another have a practice of some kind. They have spiritual leanings, this lot. Some of them are cosmic beyond my means, but I love them, and my means are getting there. Love. All you need is. A truism because it’s true. Is it all you need? I don’t know, but without it (an odd concept), nothing makes sense. Any job done with love has satisfaction in its threads. Any job lacking it creates pain. Love and a drive to serve and heal tip the scales for me. I can dig around tree after tree, clearing its roots and convering them in fly-filled, stinking mush. Done with love, it’s a gift from them to me. Without, it’s just shit and sweat, really. Conversation, conflict, interacton as a whole. .. with love it flows... what stops the love is stepping away from sensate. Fear, anger, 'not good enough', ego. All of that. But it's a choice, and it's a choice this trip has showed me time and time again.  So what am I taking from this trip?  Curiosity. Richness. Adventure. Appreciation of the people I love, near and far. A willingness to flow, a commitment to listening and following and being at ease with ease. Gratitude, more thickly spread than ever before. And love, right here, right now, for me, for everyone (after all, we're all made of the same interflowy, glowing base). No need to wait. Just love.