Hello again, dear readers.
Thank you for your very kind response to the first Tales.
This #2 will not be as action-packed. Like many Boomers my age, I am merely sitting out the winter, with very little human interaction, waiting for this insanely infectious Omicron variant to run its course.
This is not a loss for me. I relish the time to invest in my own inner landscape….like my “Honeymoon with God” time during my solo summer meditation retreats.
My wonderful hosts here are keeping quite a distance now, too, for their own sake and mine. Clemente stays busy with his many folk art projects and gardening. We send brief exuberant greetings back and forth many times a day. His son Odin refers to him as “the crazy old man”…but Odin must have noticed by now that I am a pretty crazy old woman.
Maria, Clemente’s wife texts me often, sending blessings, but also keeps her distance. She stays busy cooking, playing the piano and listening to New Age teachers like Deepak Chopra in the mornings. She borrows my bicycle occasionally, and wants to go hiking with me “someday.”
Their son Odin, who has a doctorate in music (jazz improvisation), currently has Omicron and is isolating in his room. His wife and young daughter had it last week as well. I was a bit surprised to hear this news yesterday…and that no one had informed me earlier. I’m guessing that contracting an infectious disease, here in the Third World, has some negative social reverberations. Anyone else have experience with that? Or perhaps it’s true everywhere?
And the only gringo that I ever see is my next-door neighbor, Chuck.
Chuck is a gentle anti-vaxxer and anti-masker who feels that this pandemic is mostly a hoax.
Spirit seems to want me to deeply study the lessons that revolve around dispelling polarities. And you too, dear reader, can watch your mind as you read this Tale, if you’d like to join me. Years ago, in the Costa Rican jungle, (during an Anna Cox-inspired assignment), my daily companion was a kid named Ken who lived and breathed conspiracies! Even the existence of the moon was under suspicion, as a media hoax. Ken’s son, not to be outdone by his dad, was a flat-earther.
Like Ken, Chuck is also creative, kind, musical and intelligent.
My computer crashed last week and Chuck (an engineer) helped me sort things out.
You wouldn’t be receiving these Tales without his help.
Some days, I seem to
and see all around me…
Like the incredible
entranceway to my house:
On the other hand,
I spent several minutes looking for my right sock while getting dressed yesterday. I finally found it on my foot….