What’s a good way to spend the holidays? Why camping at East Cape of course. We took our time to pack our VW Westfalia and off we went on the morning of the 24th. I prepared a lot of food to put in the refrigerator and Greg got all the things we’d need piled on top of the van and off we went.

The drive over was pretty easy except that Kailani, our 2 year old German shepherd, wanted to be up front with us and it was annoying. Other than that, it was a smooth ride to our spot. Most people were off doing other things and the surf wasn’t supposed to be good, so we figured we’d have the beach to ourselves.

Arriving in mid morning to a secluded spot we let Kailani out of the car and off she went in search of a stick.

The water looked pretty nice, though not in terms of of surfing. But all we wanted was some down time in a beautiful place.

Setting up takes some time, but it’s worth it. We had 4 days of hanging out, exploring, reading, napping. Oh glory days.

Nobody for about a mile. It was mostly like that the whole time. A few day trippers down about a half mile and a couple who were fishing.

Time for lunch and then we’ll take a walk.

Here’s my outdoor kitchen. Everything in its place and the refrigerator in the van held everything we needed. We have the van on solar, so the sun was definitely a boon to the trip.

Greg sets up our umbrella and we put up our shower tent. Pretty cool.

We spent a lot of time in those beach chairs, but we took off for hiking too.

Kailani led the way, then Greg, then me. I like following the leaders.

We mostly followed the cow trail, complete with cow poop. Watch your step.

If you look closely you can see our camping spot at the end of the arroyo right on the beach.

Early morning brings the sun over the water. Such a thrill to wake up to.

It’s fun getting up in the morning with the sun, spending some time in our beach chairs at night looking at the stars and watching the myriad of satellites and even airplanes in the sky. Then getting to bed to read and sleep. So cozy in our VW van.

One early morning before breakfast, we hiked up the arroyo behind our camp. So much to see.

There had been a storm bringing 10 inches of rain not that long ago. You can really see the path it took, washing everything down, leaving rock exposed.

You can see the ruts the rain creates.

Life in harsh places.

Plant living off the tree

Such diversity. Do people have strong roots like these trees and shrubs? They hang on for dear life.

They just keep on thriving.

Can’t get enough of that blue sky

The views on the way down are spectacular and we’re ready for another swim.

The cormorants were. posing for me.

I guess you could say I was posing too.

On the last morning we were there, it was a bit cloudy and you could tell the weather was changing a bit.

But you can’t beat that blue sky.

Greg is feeling grateful I think.

The osprey caught a lot of fish while we were there.

Bye Bye East Cape.

Back at home and just in time for unpacking and watching the sunset.

Living such a great life here in southern Baja.

What do you think sobriety is? Do you think it’s just not drinking? Of course it’s not drinking. But it’s so much more than that. 

Sobriety is a journey of rediscovering yourself. I had to admit I was powerless over alcohol. I  had to do the work to get sober, but this work provided a magical self reconnection, a resetting, and resting in recovery. I found financial wellness, educated myself in many areas, and began prioritizing self-care. 

In sobriety we learn how to set boundaries and find purpose In our lives. Instead of playing old narratives and blaming others, we accept responsibility and we grow and learn how to match our values with our intentions. 

In order to manage stress in healthy ways, we may find ways to learn new things. I have taken up yoga, meditation, and expressing myself in creative endeavors like watercolor, and making shell sculptures, writing and illustrating children’s books. At my age, I know how important it is to keep moving! Exercise class on the beach once a week, yoga three times a week, and walking every single day.

The routine I’ve set for myself is to get up very early, make my bed, grab the coffee that Greg has made for me as we head to the beach with our dog. Feeling my feet in the sand, watching the sunrise, seeing and hearing the waves crash on the shore, witnessing whales breeching, and seeing female turtles laying eggs, and then, in time, baby turtles hatching before working to get to the ocean. Blessings abound, and gratitude swells.

Drinking alcohol is giving up everything for one thing, while sobriety is giving up one thing for everything. I’ve been sober for 45 years and 8 months. This journey has taught me to live one day at a time. It’s not always easy, because life isn’t easy. There is always something. But now I have the clear headedness and courage to face whatever problems present themselves. It’s easier to have a graceful approach to problems without the alcohol clouding my brain. And matching my values with my intentions, as I mentioned already, is my ticket to a better life. 

Am I perfect? Hell no. I work on myself all the time. If I’m upset with someone, and I want to react, instead of pausing and using my words with integrity, I can ask myself, “Does this need to be said? Does this need to be said right now?” I admit that I still have trouble with this. Many times I’ve said things in anger that I can never take back. 

But I’m getting better. With a more cheerful attitude I can sustain powerful responses.

It’s also my intention to appreciate more of what is, instead of wanting things to be different. (My way). If I can’t control something, I can work on my breathing, and remember to have patience with myself as I learn to let go, to embrace calm. I want to control my thoughts and actions. Controlling myself is a big job, and a good focus for me. Most of the time I have less distortion, and I accept the small joys of being alive.

What is sobriety? Not drinking. Yes. But in these sober years, I stop to notice how much better I feel. I savor my life now. I want to be more loving and slower to anger, to take longer to eat my meals, to taste before I swallow. Now I realize how precious and rewarding living a sober life can be—it’s pure freedom. I can be as happy as I allow myself to be.

If you think drinking has become a problem and you’ve been toying with the idea of sobriety, there is a lot of help out there. Many 12 step programs, including AA. Give it a shot. You have everything to gain by giving up that one thing—alcohol.

The miriad of things I am grateful for range from the extraordinary to the everyday moments. We took a trip with friends to Magdalena Bay in Southern Baja with Explora Baja, owned by some dear friends of ours. The whole trip was magical. Being so close to gray whales that you can touch them is the thrill of a lifetime.

Our lives are magical and there isn’t a day that goes by that we don’t comment on that.

The trip included a lovely morning on the Pacific side. We went through mangroves and ended up on the sand dunes and then the ocean. Wow.

———————————————

Whale trips are life changing, but every day brings us something special. The times we spend walking on the beaches here where we live in Baja are tremendous blessings.

I delight in watching the waves crash up onto the rocks.

We are most grateful for the generosity of our family and friends and the people here in the Baja that are part of the community. We have met many wonderful Mexicans who have shown us what it means to be part of this magical place. While it is being developed at a fast pace now, which is not to the liking of many who call this home, we can’t help but be grateful for our lives here every single day.

11-26-23

Dear Alcohol,

You do not hold sway with me anymore. I used to drink like a fish. No more. Good-bye, good riddance. 

You were in my life before I realized how good and lovable I am. Yes, you heard me. I am lovable, but with you I wasn’t. In fact, I was a different person. A completely different person, almost unrecognizable as being me. 

Thank goodness I broke it off with you so many years ago. For awhile I missed you. I really did. But then I got to thinking about how the people around me acted who were still hanging in there with you. Many of them looked and acted pretty awful. I thought, “Oh my! That was me!” 

Now I just stay with my new friend, Sobriety. What a relief. Now I look healthier, feel lighter and so much happier. Even when things go wrong, I keep hanging with my new friend, Sobriety, and that means I can function on a whole  different level, ready to face whatever the day may bring.

Oh, and I have a new tribe of other friends now too. We meet and greet each other quite often. It feels good to know that there are a lot of people who have broken up with you. Together, one day at a time, we can stick with our new friend, Sobriety. 

While breaking up may be hard to do, as the old song goes,  it has been the right thing for me. Good-bye, good riddance, Alcohol. I don’t miss you anymore. 

Susie

With alcohol you choose one thing over everything. With sobriety you chose everything over one thing. I choose sobriety!

Lately I’ve been jouirnaling about this topic. While I’ve been sober for 45 years, and I don’t feel any urge at all to have a drink, I realize that Alcoholic Anonymous has a lot to teach me about being a good person. About being a person who deals with obstacles and problems with grace instead of alcohol. I can use these tenants in my life.

11-19-23 My journal entry today: 

The sober, serene life in this wide and wonderful world can provide us what we need. Sometimes setting forth into the vast unknown can seem scary. But we pray for serenity to accept those things we cannot change–some of which make us fearful. 

For example, thinking about how we can NEVER AGAIN have a drink may make us afraid of failure and it may seem a daunting goal. But that’s what’s so great about AA’s mantra, “One day at a time.” 

Any goal we may choose can be accomplished one day at a time. We can throw out the NEVERs, FOREVERs, and all the SHOULDs we give ourselves. 

Sobriety can be trusted. 

Drinking cannot be trusted.

And we have countless reasons to trust in our sobriety. It guides us into a safer, new way of experiencing our lives. In SOBRIETY there is JOY for all of us. 

I choose JOY. ONE DAY AT A TIME.

urnal 11-24-23

When shame and guilt show up on my doorstep, I have learned to face them. But I do not let them take me down. As I’ve  learned, the past is the past. We live in the here and now. Rather than wallow in the pain of shame, I begin by doing some deep breaths and taking time to either read about ways to get back on track, write in my journal, exercise or pray/meditate. Sometimes, all of the above.

As a normally positive thinking person, I continue to work on choosing to let go of that ugly part of my life. Shaking hands with shame and guilt is a waste of time. After all, sobriety is where I live now and while life will always be in flux, and there will be ups and downs, it’s how I deal with obstacles and problems that make the difference.

After all, I might stop and take a few moments to congratulate myself on my sobriety. I might make a list of things I’m grateful for, remembering that serenity comes in my acceptance of things I can’t change. I continue to work to change what I can. I don’t wake up in strange places wondering how I got there anymore. Blackouts are a thing of the past. I’ve moved on.

What is in my wheelhouse is the understanding that I can choose to forgive myself. With confidence, I can put my shoulders back, stand up straight, reach with my head to the ceiling, and know that my creator is there for me if I ask for guidance. Even though I got sober without the aid of AA, today I am finding comfort in its tenants; especially in the awareness piece.

Living with awareness means always paying attention to the higher power that guides me.

I need only ask for that guidance. Then I can get on with living in the present. Today is the ballgame I’m playing in. I just need to step up to the plate and swing my bat. 

My mother used to say, “Let go, and let God.” With that advice I have faith I’ll  be guided to get to first base, and sometimes even round the bases to home plate. 

Autumn is the time of year when the sunrises and sunsets are the most dramatic.

We need only to turn our heads to  the sky.. Over the mountain tops it rises, with the clouds painting in between where the sun opens up its pallet.

Let the colors of the day see you through your rough patches.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Here in Baja Sur, evenings with our eyes on the ocean, el sol reminds us that day is done…well almost done.

First the sun shows off its last bit of glory for all who will

open their eyes to the blessings.

This is a green flash taken with our GoPro.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

The sky’s on fire

Red, orange, yellow and pink

Blessings from on high

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Now it’s the moon’s turn.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

A haibun (pronounced “hai- boon”) is a traditional form of Japanese poetry that combines prose and haiku. I added my photos to this too. Hope you enjoyed.

If you did, leave a “LIKE” or a comment please.

It’s a long ferry ride and many kilometers from home. He leaves his wife, son, and two daughters in Nayarit, Mexico to work in Baja California Sur. Jobs are scarce at home and he accepts his responsibility to care for his family, even though his heart reaches back. It’s not without sacrifice for them, but somehow they make it work.

Heriberto’s easy smile comes together with a sparkle in his deep brown eyes. After he’s been at our house two weeks working on the addition above the garage, we are accustomed to his raucous laughter as he chatters with the guys on the crew. It becomes obvious that his style of leadership makes everyone’s day seem more like a bit of fun than such noisy work as cutting through existing concrete and preparing the new.

Instead of the drudgery of mixing and then hefting cement in five gallon buckets up fifteen stairs, these trabajadores work through it by bantering with Heriberto. Hearing their laughter lifts our own spirits. It’s not all fun however. 

The temps are in the 90s these days, and the humidity fluctuates from the 60% to the 80%, making for long, hot days. Some days we can hear the thunder in the Sierra Laguna mountains as it heats up in the afternoon. 

I am curious about Heriberto’s family. Because my own sons don’t have any children, I’m not a grandma. It’s hard to imagine that I’ll never have grandchildren, but I have “adopted” a lot of “littles” in the last 13 years, and I’m okay with this arrangement. That’s why today I asked Heriberto to tell me about his niños. 

His youngest child is six years old and she likes to pretend she’s a Disney princess. Dressed in her princess outfit, she explains to her papi how she wants a princess bicycle. It makes my heart a little sad because he probably can’t afford to get her one. He lowers his voice, and expresses his delight with his charming arm movements, as he shares about his son and his older daughter too. “They’re good kids,” he says and his soft eyes and smile are full of pride. 

About a week goes by and I can’t stop thinking about the princess who wants a bike. Without fanfare I decide to see what I can do to make her wish come true. After talking with my husband, we agree that it would be fun to help Heriberto in this small way. I’ve checked on the internet for princess bikes and come up with an amount that will do the trick. But during our discussion, we realize that he has three niños, not just the princess, and we agree we must give him enough money to get the bike, and some left to surprise his older children too.

There is a fine line that must be considered as I know Heriberto might balk at accepting this from us. But my grandma heart tells me I can do this. I always listen to my heart, don’t you listen to yours?

As soon as the guys all go on a break the next day, I take Heriberto aside and tell him my plan. Just like I figured, he said, “No, no, Susie, you don’t have to do that.”

“I don’t have to, I want to.” I hold up my hand to stop him from arguing with me. “Listen, we don’t have grandkids. We would be spoiling them if we had them, but we don’t. So let us do this.”

I gave him my best pleading look, and handed him a card I’d made with the money inside. He acquiesced! I thought he was going to cry, but he looked at me with those soulful brown eyes and he said, “Gracias. Muchas gracias.” And we hugged. 

“There’s only one more thing, Heriberto.” He looked puzzled. “We want photos. That’s all. Just photos of the princess on her bicycle. That’s when he gave me his beautiful smile.

“You got it!” he said.

The other two kids decided they would save their money until they had enough for what they wanted—cell phones. Heriberto told us that he and his wife wanted to teach their children that they need to work hard and save their money, just like Papi does, and when they have enough, they’ll get their cell phones. 

Heriberto told his wife she should take money from their emergency fund and when he goes back in December, he’ll have the money to put back. They shopped for the bicycle that very day and I got videos from the store and a couple more a few days later. Such a treat. The smiles will stay with me for a long time. Probably forever!

A win-win for all of us, I must say. 

In the video she said, “Susan and Greg, thank you.” (in English). Look at this little princess. Happiness prevails.

Pretty much everything bothers me lately. Every damn thing. Big. Small. In between. 

The music he chose for the two hour ride to the dentist appointment in La Paz bothered me. No sweetness of tune or beat or lyrics. Ugh. Turn it off paleeze. But I sat there the whole time (not saying a word) till we were almost to our destination. That’s when I pushed STOP. 

Whew. I tasted the silence on my tongue. Relief was a button push away. As a way to explain I said, “I’d just like to enjoy some quiet right now. I hope you don’t mind.” He didn’t mind, and he didn’t know his music bothered me. For some reason it was worse than bothering me. It really pissed me off. What’s the matter with me?

The days of summer are going so fast. That bothers me. One thing that doesn’t bother me is the high temperature. It’s bothering our little pup though. She’s a shade seeker and her tongue hangs out. Panting is her pastime, along with that shade seeking. Poor little girl. 

Something else is bothering me about summer. It’s no longer lazy and quiet around here like it once was.  Traffic and thousands of tourists begone. Go home. Can we just go back to the way it was, please? Back to when we moved here 13 years ago? What if I ask real nice? I’ll pay for it. How much would it cost to have my quiet, sweet, time back and all the tourists and part timers gone, gone, gone? They don’t even have to go away for good. Just for summer and part of October. 

Aging wouldn’t be so bothersome if it wasn’t accompanied by arthritis and gravity. I’ll say no more on the subject, except to say that the physical part of aging bothers me. Don’t worry, you’ll be old someday and then you’ll understand. You’ll be bothered too. I’ll put money on it.

I used to be 5’4” tall. It was a pretty nice to be 64” tall. It is not fun being 5’ and almost 2” tall. Most things are out of reach. Thank goodness someone invented step stools and ladders. My mother used to say, “You can just stretch for things. Stretching is good for you.” I used to hate it when she’d say things were good for me. Now it bothers me that she isn’t here to remind me of things like that. 

“Who took my pencils? I had four new ones in my can and now there’s only two.”

My husband pointed to one of them lying on my table. “There’s one. Right there on your art table.”

“Oh. That’s three accounted for. Where’s the other one?” 

“Maybe it’s in the kitchen. You’re sure grumpy lately, Susie.” 

“I know. Everything’s bothering me.” I should probably say I’m sorry, but I don’t want to say I’m sorry like que es mi culpa (It’s my fault) that everything’s bothering me nowadays.

In October I’ll be 77 years old. And guess what? That bothers me. 

I’m going to get back into meditation I guess. Nothing bothers me when I practice meditation faithfully. But to tell you the truth, I feel better already for having had this little rant.

Thanks for listening.

When I read or listen to the news, it’s hard to imagine there are any good people in this world. More and more the focus is on gun violence, hate crimes, and greedy rich people getting richer on the backs of others. The political environment provokes nausea in me. I want to scream, “Just stop. Stop this madness.” 

I sat stewing in misery about the state of the world one day and I got a horrific email from a friend telling me about one of my former colleagues who had just lost her 18 year-old daughter to an aneurysm. It was as if a scream emanated from deep inside me. “No, no, no!”

But it was true. 

The thing that haunts me more than anything is how decent and good and loving Chloe was. Why should she be the one to die?

In her 18 years she managed to bring happiness and smiles to hundreds of young people who suffered from mental and physical disabilities. Chloe championed inclusion. She was chosen as a youth ambassador to the Special Olympics in Washington State and in that capacity she was able to demonstrate to everyone that inclusivity is the way forward. Her work with challenged youth was her passion, and she had recently been accepted to the college of her choice and planned to become a special education teacher.  

Why should she be the one to die?

At her memorial service we heard stories of how her light shone on everyone she met. If a kid at her school was having a bad day, she’d stop and offer a kind word, a hug, a smile. And Chloe’s big, sunny smile was the reason her friends called her the Sunflower Girl.

Imagine a sunflower, and how every petal is bright and glowing around a center of the tiny black-brown disk flowers in the center, that grow in a spiral and mature into sunflower seeds. These seeds will make more flowers. Don’t we all get a little happy looking at a tall sunflower? And a field of them fills us all with joy, right? 

Well, that’s what our Sunflower Girl did. She worked with young people who needed to feel seen. Who wanted to fit in. Whose hearts were aching to be included. And Chloe showed us how to make that happen.

Her voice will continue to be heard. Her light will continue to shine. She planted the seeds of inclusion so that we would find a way to offer ourselves to the task in big and small ways. When we are confronted with someone who may feel only “otherness,” we can offer our hands, our smiles, our hearts, our time.

Let’s be the good people we wish to see in this world. Let’s be like Chloe, the Sunflower girl, and choose to include.   

not cohesive in our togetherness

we are accepted outsiders 

using illiterate knowledge for an unorganized plan

where stationary travel leads to ecstatic lethargy

in this delicate crude world

of our unreliable steadfastness

is that a deepness rising in your heart?

an unpromised pledge of yesterday’s future? 

i steadily fall into an awkward grace 

like a sadness of pleasure in my satiated hunger

and oh! what oblique straightforwardness

is this playful work we do

me with my basket brimful of nothing 

where I carry my separate belonging

and ever so slowly we speed to discover

a calm excitement—hidden in our perfect flaws

unrevealed we materialize—familiar strangers

cruising through the traffic jams of our lives