Because if I hadn’t I wouldn’t have met the woman with the large telescope in the street one night, selling us a glance at the moon for 50 pesos.
And how far 50 pesos can take you in this town – all the way to the moon, or just a taxi ride up the hill to where my mother used to watch the bullfight.
If I’d stayed home, I wouldn’t have understood why the man in the neon green vest was walking up and down the street banging a pot the other morning, reminding everyone that it was trash day.
Or how when you enter a store, you place your feet in a shallow pan of water before you go in. You’ll be wet, but you’ll be clean.
I wouldn’t have met the hippie dude with the handle bar mustache who makes a huge vat of soup every week – something he started doing during the pandemic when people couldn’t leave their homes because of the three month lock down. If you’re on his WhatsApp list you can tell him how many pints you want, and he’ll deliver it to you if you can’t pick it up. This week its corn chowder.
If I hadn’t said “I’ll do it!” when my friends, Dan and Jenny, asked who wanted to sublet their house here in San Miguel de Allende for 11-weeks, I wouldn’t be waking up to church bells, which wake the roosters, which wake the dogs, which wake up Max, the cat I’m taking care of, and the way she takes a soft paw to my nose every morning to tell me it’s time.
Time to head to La Mancha cafe, where I’ll sit alone at a table with the sun in my face, drinking a cappuccino, listening to Brian Ferry and Roxy music on the cafe radio, watching trucks deliver groceries to the market across the street. Everyone is speaking Spanish.
And then it’s time to take a ride with Jose, the taxi driver, who confesses to no English, and who takes me way up into the hills for my first salsa class. Jose who listens to my bungled Spanish as I explain how even though I grew up learning it in school, I still don’t speak well. “Lo siento mucho,” I say sheepishly, one of the only lines I feel confident saying. “I’m sorry.”
When we get to the top of the hill, I Spanglish my way through, “Es possible you could pick me up en una hora?” and in perfect English, he turns to me, smiles and says, “I think you should walk.”
If I hadn’t left home I wouldn’t know what it’s like to stand in the back of a salsa class full of women, and realize that even if you don’t know what you’re doing, as long as you keep the beat, you can get away with a lot, which feels like a metaphor for my life, and not a bad one either.
And I wouldn’t have noticed that the coffin shop – the one with the baby coffin in the window – is two doors down from the wedding dress shop with it’s great display of poofy white dresses, and how all day long people walk past those two milestones, maybe not even noticing because they’ve got someplace else to go.
And then there was the night I waved away an older Mexican man who came by our dinner table selling flowers. I waved him away without even looking at him because I decided I didn’t want what he was selling, but then I caught a whiff of gardenia, so I turned apologetically and asked for two small bunches, “por favor.” And isn’t it just like that? Just when I think I know what’s happening, I don’t, and I miss so much – like those gardenias I stuck my nose into for days.
If I hadn’t left home, I wouldn’t have remembered how travel super charges your awareness by putting you in new situations that ask you to pay attention and act in new ways. Travel enables you to let go of your routines and rituals, the things you do over and over again at home, and the way you become a little sleepy through sheer repetition, without even knowing it.
Travel asks you to let go of what you’re attached to, and to be more like a sail letting the wind have its way with you, destination a little unknown.
Letting go feels good to this double Taurus. It’s a ridiculous relief to be the worst dancer in salsa class, but to also be having so much fun; my body turning left when the rest of the class is turning right. But hey, I’m paying attention to the beat, and I had to leave home to find it.
Listen to Laurie read the post here:
I love hearing your voice…So warm…relaxed. You offer your hand – I take it. If I hadn’t, I would have missed these moments.…I wouldn’t have felt the music or smelled the smells. I wouldn’t have heard the purrs or, sipped cappuccino. I would have missed the beat. Thank you for offering your hand…💜
Laurie! You take me there, I can see perfectly all the people, the situations, the feeling!
Love to hear your voice and grateful for your words that inspires me to “left home”!!!
Abrazo!!!
This is wonderful, thanks for sharing!
Simply but beautifully written and reminding us what a gift it is to travel.
Simply beautiful. Thank you.
Your writing is just so beautiful Laurie . Love the picture you paint so vividly with your words.
Keeping up with the best especially. Happy thanksgiving xox
Marvelous, Laurie. I love knowing how this came out of a piece of Wild Writing and grew into this wonderful gift. Thank you.
Mexico or Spain? or…?
San Miguel de Allende, Mexico
Thank you for sharing, and inspiring ~
How wonderful Laurie– the way you said yes and keep saying it, and the way you share these moments with us. I’m going to send this to my 23-year-old son who just this week is starting his first job…in Paris.
So beautifully depicted – again, you put your finger on the very essence of the thing: The wonder, the heightened senses and the letting go. I often ask myself why I don’t get in the space in my regular life…I feel inspired to try today.
PS – I miss San Miguel! Say hi to Ariel and keep being your magical self. xx
How wonderful to wake up to this beautiful story
Reminding me how free I used to be
How much I miss letting the wind take me every which way
Thank you for sharing in such a way that has me right there with you
Amazing
Fresh
Soothing
And exciting
Love!
I was sad that I couldn’t enter the journey. I kept wondering if we were still in a worldwide pandemic or you were in a place without it. Great piece. But am I dreaming?
no, we’re in a place within the pandemic, but we are living and continuing to journey in the face of it…
Oh how I love this as I wake up to my daily and domestic life , it reminds me of what was and what will be xo
Thank you for being such a wonderful guide. I felt immersed in the tastes, the smells, the dance and the colors….all so vibrantly alive here. I could hear the church bells ringing and the domino awakening of the day. All delightful reminders to be where we are now! Keep dancing to your own beat. ❤️
Thank you, Laurie,
This has inspired me to take this trip to a new place in Mexico I have not been to but have been invited to stay. I took a solo chance to trade a house in Playa Guiones, Costa Rica, seven years ago, where I had never been before, and ended up doing that 5 weeks a year until Covid hit. You have got me thinking. “Why not, if not mow, when?”
And just like that, I’m there with you. Turning left instead of right, living in the moment. Thank you for living your purpose and sharing it with the world.
So gorgeous, thank you. I’m itching for noticing and wonder with a little mystery…traveling today thank goodness.
Can’t wait to dance badly with you! Xo
Simply perfect, Laurie. I love to travel down the path of words. Thanks for your gift! Thanks for your gift of wonderful words to travel down!
I would like to know more about “I think you should walk.” Is this another piece?
Love all of the senses in this one.
Still here, writing about lynch culture, trying to allow my emotions to unfreeze in the imperialist-white supremacist-capitalist-patriarchy, as bell hooks would say.
I love this and I’m right there with you in that beautiful place.
Thank you for this reminder of what life used to be like. It gives me hope.
XXoo
I love this so much. ❤️
Oh Mexico! You’ve captured it as well as those quintessential simple moments in which, when bundled together, make up the wonder of life. Your writing is a powerful, gracious reminder of such. Thank you ~~ I needed it.
What an appealing appetizer before your upcoming Wild Poetry workshop in San Miguel de Allende right after New Year’s. You had mentioned you’d be living there for a few months beforehand. I wondered why, and now I know! Can’t wait.
So very jealous. You’re wonderful at putting us in the picture. I feel the music and can smell those luscious gardenias.
Enjoy every minute.
Turkey mile for Thanksgiving?
Laurie,one of these days I want to travel with you! This was a good next best–thank you for this delicious, beautiful piece.
I mean–next best to traveling with you! Because you took us along with your writing!
I loved taking this journey with you! Felt like I was right there! Thank you for sharing it!
“as long as you keep the beat, you can get away with a lot,” LOVE this! So true, right?
This is so beautifully written. I can close my eyes and be right there in Mexico too. Thank you ❤️
So beautiful, I especially liked the chain set off by the church bells. For six years I lived near a convent and was woken by bells too – that’s not so strange you may think – but as I live on the equator it actually felt very strange. Almost as odd as taking up ice-hockey which I played for those same six year
Thank you Laurie for leaving home and taking us with you! I am building the courage to do the same soon. Your piece whets my appetite for new adventure.
Sweet buddy! Thank you for these reminders to sometimes take the unknown new path because you just might see things that kickstart a spark! xo
So cool how you dialogue, see and tell my friend!
…”even if you don’t know what you’re doing, as long as you keep the beat, you can get away with a lot, which feels like a metaphor for my life, and not a bad one either.”
Perfect for my life too! Thank you ❤️
I love the aliveness and encouragement in this post.
What an adventure. Every every minute!
Love it. Makes me feel like I’m there with you.♥️
i love that you let yourself go…
coming alive and along with you as you learn spanish and salsa
your voice is a balm
your writing a series of well appointed dreams
your community a gift
that reaches me
here
in the now of things
coming alive…