Arriving Oaxaca in Fall is a little like holding my breath under water - i know its just for awhile but it feels as tho it could last forever, a simultaneous sinking floating sensation. Every year the shock changes a bit - the smells are less pungent but the noise is more ferocious. Our pace is fast lane swift compared to the amble that is the mindset here. It takes weeks to adjust to it all, the elevation, the timing, the language, the light, the noise, the water, the heat or lack of it.
Its good to notice that everyday I surrender more and complain less. What is the initial resistance about? I love it here, But I love it there, too, on our island in the north. Here I am gleeful as I prance barefoot in the dawn on a rooftop overlooking the city - there I am cozy within the silence of the forest that grows along the shore. How wonderful is this, a life of contrasts? Is there a word for it?
