 |
| Esalen campus |
It’s been awhile since I
posted – much of my writing has been personal.
-----------------
We went to Light in the
Grove, the 25th anniversary benefit for the National AIDS Memorial
Grove in Golden Gate Park. http://www.aidsmemorial.org/ We got there early and
sat in the car talking – a sweet time.
 |
| Light in the Grove |
We made the most beautiful
entrance I’ve ever made – when people arrived they were each given a glass of
champagne and a candle in a glass vase and then walked down the switchback path
to the Circle of Friends area – like an endless line of people, of lights. The
path was lined with lights and every 20-30 feet there was a person standing
greeting everyone warmly. The redwood grove below was beautifully lighted and
there dancers in the glade (I think on this night the faeries were on the side
of the hill). At the Circle of Friends everyone placed a candle in memory of
someone (for me, Rueben). Then down a path at the edge of the glade where names
of people who died projected in a moving, never-ending list on the trunks of
the redwoods.
It was all deeply moving.
 |
| Esalen campus - class |
At the end of the path was
a huge tent where there was a nice buffet, wine, drinks, etc. David and Charles
got there a little later and sat with us for a bit and then they were off to
connect with friends. We left not too long afterward. We sat on a bench beside
the path – what a night!
-----------------
The next day we drove
south on Highway 1 along the magnificent coast into Big Sur and to Esalen (http://www.esalen.org/). Here, hidden from the world, giants of the
counter-culture had walked, studied, meditated, taught, opened… Aldous Huxley,
Alan Watts, Fritz Perls, Allen Ginsberg, Virginia Satir, Joseph Campbell, and
countless more.
 |
| Esalen showers |
Our room opened onto the
headlands above the Pacific rolling, crashing against the rocks below. We
unloaded the car and headed for the hot springs baths, where we watched the sun
set over the Pacific, blue water, white foam, crashing strong.
We talked about a time six
years before when Jean had scattered her husband’s ashes by “David’s tree”
beside the path to the springs. We talked about how the night before, less than
24 hours before, we had been at the place where my son and I had scattered my
wife’s ashes less than a year before. What a life we lead!
 |
| Room at Esalen |
In the morning we made
love (“Open your eyes. See the sky! See the ocean!”) and later went for a massage. Like
everything else, the massage rooms hang above the Pacific. A timeless massage
with the waves rolling and crashing below… and then to the baths, where we made
love (not physically) for three hours with the waves crashing below. Late
lunch, nap on the lawn, drive to Carmel Valley for a glass of wine with Steve
and Susan, then the long drive home.
I’ve dreamed of Esalen for
half my life. Although there was a little weirdness in this trip with the presence of too
many web developer millennials (a little too much loud talking, some even
wearing swim suits in the baths - eww), still, the magic and beauty were there.
We just created a cocoon around ourselves and opened to the magic, the love,
the beauty, dreaming our dreams.
 |
| Esalen baths |
-----------------
When we honestly ask
ourselves which person in our lives means the most to us, we often find that it
is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather
to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand. Henri Nouwen
-----------------
 |
| Last patients, last day of work |
These kind of things keep
happening. I need to remember to record them. Jean texted that she was on the way home. I texted back that I would
put a candle in the window. Less than an hour later this song came on the
radio: Put a Candle in the Window. Home to this warm home, to this temple, the
walls, the walls, the…
“walls with hangings rich,
of many strange designs”
(Robin Williamson).
-----------------
Listening to U2’s New
Years Day live, thinking of my work, about how I was there deep, deep in the
richness and difficulties of the flow until the very end. I wondered what was
the last photo of me at work? I looked and here it is – on
my last day, my last patients. Taking the photo was the Mom’s idea.
 |
| Thanksgiving 2016 |
I met the woman on the
left years before, very shortly after she got here from Mexico. We were in an
apartment (a typical refugee/immigrant apartment) with some people, maybe her
husband and someone else and two students, and somehow it happened that there
was a modesty issue and I looked away without lingering. I always had the sense
that she appreciated that. I took care of her and her daughter (in pink) for
years. When I saw them that last time (photo) her daughter was about 13 or 14,
wearing a shirt that said, Why Not?
------------------
 |
| Esalen! |
On a rainy day we went to visit a friend who lives in some mountains not far from San
Francisco. The plan was to have dinner, have a sauna, and spend the night. He
wasn’t home when we got there, so we got around the gate to the road to his
wife’s studio (she is Jean’s good friend, traveling ATM) and walked down the
road to the studio. The door was open and we went in and built a fire in the
wood-burning stove (first photo) and put our feet up. Our friend came home a few hours later
and we went to the house.
Nice dinner, great
company, good sauna, back to the studio. It was cold and rained all night long.
We set up the wood for the night, got the big air mattress set up on the
concrete floor, then our new two-person sleeping bag, a bowl, a glass of wine,
up every two hours to add wood to the fire, lot of bathroom runs, re-inflate
the mattress a few times. One of the best nights of my life.
 |
| With John Kemp at Indian Rock |
------------------
Walls with hangings rich,
 |
| Lisa's studio - cold, rainy day |
of many strange designs
No comments:
Post a Comment