THOUGHTS FROM BRAC ISLAND CROATIA...
One of the most important things I've learned this summer is to leave myself in peace. ¡Déjate en paz! It's one of the most difficult things to do, more difficult than anything I've attempted thus far. It's letting go of expectations, accepting your reality and not tryting to force change. The most interesting things, it turns out, cannot be forced. Instead of forcing, I simply choose. Every action and "non-action" is a choice, every moment of every day. I choose a direction and I follow it until I choose not to. Obligations are my own invention. I make decisions and accept the consequences.
So here I am, possibly getting what may or may not be the last sunburn of the summer, listening to the waves crash agaist the rocks and concrete and to the cries and conversations of my fellow beach-goers in a language I do not understand. Across the sea, I gaze upon the cliffs and mountains of mainland Croatia, rugged and unwavering. It is a belief of mine that the nature of a people relfects the surrounding landscape. I'll never be sure if the Croatian people really are of a rugged and unwavering character or if it's just a romantic notion I've created in accordance with this contrived belief. But I like it just the same.
The last rays of sun are beating down hard, making beads of sweat on my forehead and behind my knees. The gentle breeze is nice but it doesn't quite cut it. So I'm going to choose to have a cold, overly-sugared, creamy something-or-other from the Studenac and climb back up the hill to the summer home we're sharing with our gracious Danish hosts, Sussie and Torben.
The house is plain and spacious, well thought-out as only the Danish can do. We haven't spread out and created nearly as much chaos as we usually do. Their laid-back perfectionism must be rubbing off on us. They, like us, are retired so sometimes they don't know what day of the week it is and often opt to leave things off for the following day. Apart from reading the newspaper, doing crossword puzzles and having grandchildren, we have quite a lot in common. Our conversations are easy and interesting. Since we're retired, Jose and I no longer work. We share. "Ready to go share with the people of _____?", we ask each other. We share our music, our bubbles, our smiles and our love of life. The people show their appreciation through returned smiles, thumbs up, questions, recommendations, acommodations, wishing us good travels and "beautiful energy" for the both of us... and yes, some metal and paper that we use to buy food.
Most recently, we've begun sharing prepared Bubble Mix Concentrate and wands. And today, day three of bubble mix sales, we sold our first bottle (the big one!) and wand (the fancy one!) to a very happy young customer. I'm sure it's because of the clear and pretty signs...
It might seem silly and forced to insist on saying "share" when we really mean "work" but for us it's a way of constantly reinforcing an attitude. If I'm focusing on the money that people are or aren't throwing our way, I begin to judge them. These people are uppity, those people are stingy, that family is loud and disrespectful, Oh! they're nice! When I'm sharing, none of that matters. I'm happy with just a smile, I'm happy when people stop to look and listen even if they move on without putting any money in violin case. I love when someone is walking fast, head down, and they nearly run straight into a giant bubble. They always stop short to avoid popping it, something fragile and precious. Sometimes they look over at us amazed or confused or laughing to themselves. But it's clear that they've been jolted into the present moment, at least for a second or two.
The other night, a beautiful young woman made my night with her passionate dancing, clearly feeling each note of my music. I played the same songs I always play but with renewed attention. Afterwards, she gave me a hug and motioned with her hands from her heart to mine, back and forth, back and forth. I thanked her for her dancing. She thanked me for my music. Her name was Laura, she's 24, is a professional dancer and dance teacher, has Down's Syndrome and works for an organization in Germany called ILAN, Inclusion Life Art Network. You can see pictures, videos and an impressive resume on her artist page. A very beautiful and inspiring person. Danke shein, Laura!
Just a week ago, another beautiful and inspiring person, also named Laura, was also dancing in the street to my music. I met Laura in Spain, one of my lovely course-mates from La Ligera. Of the many people who have said that they'd love to travel with us for a time, Laura is the only one who has made it happen. Instead of taking a well-deserved relax from her job as a kindergarten teacher, she chose to bike the hilly Croatian coastline, sleeping in a tent, learning to make and cook with fire, waking at the crack of dawn to pack up camp and hit the road before the heat hits, eating mostly the same food day in and day out... not your typical luxury vacation!
But she was able to discover first hand the luxuries of our way of life: hours alone on the bike with just the landscape, the cars and your thoughts; plenty of time and space to eliminate personal wastes and gases, both literally and figuratively; the pure, hearty exhaustion that accompanies you to your tent where you sleep as if you'd been drugged; and an awareness of the constant decision-making being carried out every moment of every day. This lifestyle means that you are with, or at least taking into consideration the presence of the people you're traveling with... 24/7! It also means that you have the freedom and awareness to be able to dedicate as much time and attention as is necessary to resolve conflicts whenever they arise.
There is space for, at times, tearful confessions of fear, hurt, resentment, frustration, envy, desire, need, rage, space for whacking the sh** out of some hapless stick on the side of the road, space for floating listlessly in the sea, merging saltly water with salty tears, space for screaming or singing at the top of your lungs as you go flying down a mountainside, space to fully live each and every emotion as a child would, bouncing from one to the next with increasing ease and abandon. I am very grateful for the opportunity to share this way of life with another dear friend, and for the fresh perspective her presence offered us, the opportunity to once again see and appreciate everything I have.
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Note: The blog posts in Spanish are written by Jose, and those in English, by Colleen. Those of you who understand both languages have the opportunity to understand both perspectives! Those of you who do not will have to rely on Google Translate if you wish to have an approximation...or start learning Spanish today!
Subscribe to our blog and get an update in your inbox each time we publish something new! We promise not to inundate you... we're too busy living it up to send massive amounts of emails!
Note: The blog posts in Spanish are written by Jose, and those in English, by Colleen. Those of you who understand both languages have the opportunity to understand both perspectives! Those of you who do not will have to rely on Google Translate if you wish to have an approximation...or start learning Spanish today!