Tuesday, January 14

post christmas

It’s nice to have a new year, a new start, even if it’s really just a turn of the calendar; even if it’s only starting over somewhere old and familiar.

Grand Canyon gazing
Little Gen was waiting for me right where I’d left her. She had the apartment clean, Christmasy, and smelling like tacos. The traditional Christmas dead tree branch was hung with lights in the window. 

I made my pilgrimage to the Rio Grande river for sand to fill my farolito bags (a New Mexican tradition of weighting candlelit paper bags to light the way to the Christ Child.) My Jewish friend Nomi dutifully folded the edges of nearly fifty paper lunch bags in preparation. That’s a true friend.

Farolitos in place, we were on our way to the Old Town festival of lights and live nativity. I celebrated my one year anniversary of knowing the Franciscan Friars of Don Juan Diego Friary by surprising Brother Max with a big bear hug. Then we were almost recruited into the live nativity, but were saved at the last second by a group of children.

So it's been strangely normal coming home. And definitely too soon to be on the road again, but here I am.

After a brief layover, Nomi and I have gone to California, thus completing our east to west coast sojourn. Every time I come to California from some other part of the country (which isn't often) I feel suddenly angry. It's something to do with the warm, moist air, the sunshine, and happy people everywhere. It's just not fair that one state is hogging all the goodness of a temperate climate. 

The air here revives me, so I'll soak it up as long as I can. I spent this last weekend in some horse country east of Santa Barbara, once again asking myself why I live in a desert with no ocean. 

Today I'm back with some old friends of vaulting, the very ones who introduced me to this great sport. Yesterday I was privileged to catch up with some riders who have made great strides in their abilities; one woman who was barely able to sit up on the horse is now up on all fours performing the flag with one arm and one leg raised; and a young man who doctors said would never walk is now standing on the back of a horse.

It's this kind of evidence that keeps me coming back. And it keeps me moving forward.

Off to another ordinary day of miracles…


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