The Final Voyage

UPDATE ON APRIL 11, 2017

I am using this very occasional blog in part as a diary, and just today I transcribed the below from the little handheld recorder I bought early on to chronical rovrev adventures while driving... I cannot believe it's been a mere month since my idea of the next piece of life went kablooie!

March 7 at 730 a.m.

Perhaps one day i will go rest in peace by the seaside with the rovrev… [describing peace and quiet and lack of infrastructure in asuncion; ends with] Really hoping, once again, to be on my way from La Paz to Bahia Asuncion. We shall see what we shall see.

March 10 at 8:00 a.m. (on the road since 6:30 a.m.)

I just remembered the wonderful feeling of driving through the mountains by myself, me and the rovrev just tooling along...I think we may drive all the way to Santa Rosalia today if it keeps feeling this easy and fun.

and then...


This is Manny My Mechanic and his worker, who have just changed the oil for LaRoVingReV's final journey and are so sad to see her go...

After having waited to no avail twice for a fella to drive me and the ReV back to Asuncion -- her permanently, me just long enough to find a place to park her until May -- on Friday I remembered who I am, and how much fun we've had for more than three years. So decided to take off Saturday morning by my onesies. Manny said I was in great shape, since I'd just spent 200USD to replace the radiator and another part that got broken in The Great Meltdown of 2017.

We might have known something was up, as usual in my life these days, when the yogurt/fruit smoothie exploded all over the driver side of the cab. We are talking almost unreadable dashboard through the muck, seat upholstery that looked and smelled like someone had vomited all over it, stuff all over the bottom of the cooler that had the misfortune to be in the way of the blast. Thing is, I had been looking for the plastic drink bottle for two days. Have no idea where it was hiding until it had fermented sufficiently to blow the lid off!

Another chaos clue might have been a few days ago, when I broke the passenger-side mirror for the third time. But just look at what I had pasted into the frame! Had forgotten entirely that the new mirror was hiding the fabulous Your Body RAKS logo. Oh well, at least no need to replace the mirror this time.

WAY TO BURY THE LEAD, SUSANA!

On her way to living out her days in Bahia Asuncion, LaRoVingReV apparently had a change of mind/heart, because after six hours of happy driving yesterday, the battery conked out at 40 miles an hour, never to restart. If you look carefully, you can see the top of the RV in this mirror, which was being towed 20 MILES with a rope and chain up and down the hills beside the ever-lovely Sea of Cortez. Such grand plans there had been--she could have chosen to be a haven on the beach for stray dogs, or a library for the English class...and no matter what else her final resting place included, the kids would get to paint her outside however they saw fit!

But NOOOOOOO! Instead, Senor Rescue Numero Uno, a 70ish lech (or maybe I should give my currently hot self more credit? jajajaja) who towed me with a strap--I had to operate the Rev's reluctant brakes and steering wheel  behind his pickup, EEEEEK!--to safety about 3 miles away. THEN, my wouldbe suitor went to 3 shops before he found a mechanic who could take me back and see if the RV could be coaxed back to life. Said mechanic, Ramon aka Senor Rescue Numero Dos, proceeded to serenade me for the full half hour, much to the amusement of myself and Ramon's nephew, who was along tp pilot the RV in case it had to be towed to town. Yuppers. And a minute before the above foto was taken, I signed over La RoVing ReV to Ramon for parts. 

WAY TO BURY THE REAL LEAD, SUSANA!

He left me with four bags at what passes for a bus terminal in Mulege, where I had a 4-hour wait for the next bus to La Paz, part of which time I spent up there in that edifice. Most folks reading this won't know that I have recently been trying to find out how to begin a relationship with la Virgen Guadalupe. I would not have been in her sanctuary by myself at night under any circumstances other than the bizarre ones that brought me to her yesterday.

Took the 9 p.m. bus home, got in at 4:30 this morning, am having a fine day so far. And I do believe I am in shock. What a helluva 3 1/2 years! MIL GRACIAS, ROVREV!!!

Guadalupe, Jesus, and Me

one of my mantras is "I have a strong body that I am proud of, pleased with, and grateful for". I climbed these rocks like a she-goat!

 



18 February 2017 at 1:38 p.m.

Playa Coromuel in the wind and rain and stunning beauty that is so regrettably easy to take for granted. Eating as I write – homemade dill/onion bread with butter, mayo, avocado, and tomato (plus hichol, of course). Enjoying, as I almost always do, the interplay of colors on my sandwich. I call it bandera food because it is purposefully green, white, and red. I have not yet mistressed desserts yet, but any other part of a meal and I’m your girl.

It occurred to me as I was brushing my teeth this morning – trite, I know, but true nonetheless – that The One Love (hereinafter referred to as TOL—kinda like my version of yahweh and not speaking The Name…) has sent me the family of three that I need. Dra Daniela plays Guadalupe in this psycho drama, but first let’s speak of Dr Roberto, who is so clearly Jesus as my brother companion on this part of my journey.

When he signed an email to me with a “fraternal hug” I thought it a most strange thing for a psychiatrist to do, especially with a very vulnerable and confused female patient. Then, when I took his hand to say goodbye the second time, he shook it warmly and then reached for a clearly fraternal hug – one meant to comfort me and let me know I was not as alone as I feel. I can put down my sexual and romantic fantasies about him (now THERE’S a first—being at all drawn to any of the male mental health professionals I have interacted with). I can accept with grace and gratitude his support because – another first – he is also the only MHP of any gender who agrees that my crisis is at bottom spiritual. He has been sent to me, I believe, for exactly that reason. He knows how to help me through the psyche and accompany me towards my true home in TOL.

And of dra daniela I can say little, because I do not know what I need from a mother. Daniela tells me that is not a problem! She says all I have to do is talk to Guadalupe exactly as I talk to her, and then simply ask her to pass on the message to her Son, because I am not speaking to Him right now. Daniela says I should ask her to tell Him that, even though all of us know He already knows it. She listens; she, too, touches me to calm and comfort me; she knows when her ability to help has ended and thus someone else’s help needs to begin.

 

 

2:33 pm notes from recorder

I have finally come to realize that my otherness keeps me from understanding how it is for normal ones – in the sense of the majority being the norm – as much as it keeps you from seeing who I am, no matter how/how many times I have tried to show you, individually and collectively.

 

(I was recording my thoughts while moonlight sonata repeats -- endlessly, these days -- in the background of my consciousness. Remembering the comfort of falling to sleep among my five siblings with mom playing this downstairs on the parsonage piano. Playing until the last of us begged, with the last of our consciousness for that day, “play it once more, mom.”)
 

there is a very powerful connection between losing that and losing god on the trip from michigan to connecticut, where there was no piano, no parsonage, no being at the center of a family that had been at the center of the rural evangelical united brethren church for three generations. Instead, there was an unheated summer home on the Sound that came with the job my father had gotten with a millionaire who was all hot for entente with Russia (it was called Promoting Enduring Peace); there was my first crush, on the Dan the Painter Man – he was so beautiful and so kind – who spent my 12th summer working on the porch that wrapped three quarters of the way around this huge-to-us three-story beach palace; there was a school my brothers and I attended where the students felt superior to us because our clothes and our lunches were made at home. There was, however, no comfort of any sort to be found anywhere, save precious moments swimming in the Atlantic. I have always been a water child, and I was as delighted as I was frightened the first time an undertow swept me to the bottom of a big wave and threatened to hold me there beyond my capacity to hold my breath. (I repeated that experience at Bahia Asuncion once last year. I kinda think I’m over it—being scared just for the thrill of it.)

next recording: the peace that I seek lies at the center of the opposing tensions of my soul, it has been said, but what happens if those tensions are exactly matched? Where is the peace in the constant battle to be either/or? What kind of person would I be if both/and made sense to me? It may be a la frontera, on 15th street revisited, it may be in the seemingly unbearable tension of both/and...

next recording: I believe that Jesus and Mary have come to me; it does not matter if no one else believes it; the three of us know it to be real and true. Just as I know daniela and roberto are real and true, they know me to be one of them in some way I do not at all understand. Maybe a club of believers who have some sense? Jajajajajaja (and ooops – my unhealed religious arrogance showing like my thighs backlit by the sun through the thin fabric of the skirt whose lining I cut out because it scratched me).

Right now, standing outside in the rain, two men and a boy. I hope my foto turns out. In my mind, they are a gay couple raising mr. scowlyface's son from a disastrous marriage to a junkie. In any case, the three of them have come to the beach for the same reason as I did, to see the storm. Many people have come and parked for a few minutes, all getting out of their cars to brave the wind and rain for the beauty of the sea.



 

where I wrote this

315 pm

having small anxiety about the rv starting in the cold/rain when I am ready to leave; contingency planning for problems in my mind takes the joy from now. Prepare for the best until the worst happens; then know that you can and will cope, there will be help, you will rise again.

BELOW is transcribed from pages I wrote “feverishly” the other morning…

maybe this is grampa’s! that’s what karina suggested – along with noting the eternal gemini conflict within me – when I told her I was known for being empathic as a child. If I could, indeed, feel others inside me more than just physically, who is to say I did not internalize my uncle’s sense of being evil as he mauled me? He must have told me it was my fault, that god hated me for what “we” were doing. And I must have believed him because grampa didnt stop him, and grampa, himself, knew he must have failed his God because he had been crippled by one of his plow horses. What chance did I have of believing myself, not to speak of being believed had I told? anyone But since there was already a game-changing secret at the center of our family life – my father’s active homosexuality – I had learned long before the age of six to keep my mouth shut about reality or pay the price.

I have known how disabled i’ve been by the “worst” of mom (passivity, no boundaries, zero self-esteem, except for temporary reprieves from self-doubt when being praised for service, especially including food!) and dad (arrogance and self-centeredness), but not by my grandfather’s faith. Abreaction: spending my life battling evil on the outside in a desperate attempt to hide the evil on the inside. From myself, primarily. The line that divides good from evil…

coromuel noonish 11 feb 17

how many time can one person withstand being born? All that I am is in pain, I cannot breathe in here. I am still not speaking to TOL, the only help for me. But at least I have begun a conversation with guadalupe, doing as dra daniela suggested and simply asking her to tell jesus how angry I am. How evil I can be. I dont care that he already knows. I will NOT BEG the God who let me disappear more than 50 years ago. And no one – not one person – noticed I was gone.

I know who mary was but not who she is; and certainly not who she is to me, except that I love the story of juan diego

 

At home preparing this blog on 25 February, waiting for the effing cable/internet guy for the fourth time in three weeks! So very shocked to reread my previous blog written a month ago. I have no palpable memory today of being that person.

LaRovRevDoesLaPaz

¡YO, PEEPS!

Long time no... as in, the last blog was 11 months ago. It described both my supposed Call a little more than a year ago to be part of a bilingual UU satellite congregation in Chula Vista and my restoration to sanity. Thought I was headed for peace and quiet and stability in Bahia Asuncion after that. Well, it was swell while it lasted, which was about five months...
¡JAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJA!

Through a process I neednt go into here, I am back living in La Paz, Baja California Sur, Mexico for the next few ... weeks? months?? years???

SUNRISE this morning from the prayer space on top of my apartment building

Today was surprising, to say the least. I play bridge twice weekly with people who like me about as much as I like them, for the most part -- and I LOVE being competitive at cards, so I am willing to suffer fools silently, if not gladly. Yesterday, two of the players volunteered the info that there would be a Women's March in La Paz the next day. You cannot imagine my surprise. So, I went in order to be in some sort of solidarity with my sisters around the globe, and wait til you hear what happened!

There was no "march" -- only a group of about 8 women who walked sometimes together but mostly not for the 1/2 mile from the fancy marina (where most of them are boat people) to the new LAPAZ sign on the malecón. Plus one husband / designated fotografer. Walking part of the way with one of the "organizers", I was instructed that this was NOT an "anti-trump" march, so as not to be controversial with their mostly conservative fellow marina-ites! She confided that she is not "out as a liberal", but she may change her mind about that because it would mean she and her husband would not be in with the in crowd. and then she "would not have so many social obligations with people I don't like spending time with". Yours truly is clueless, as usual, as to why anyone would make that choice.

We were met at the LAPAZ sign -- across the street from the hotel La Perla, where justice trainer and professional bellydancer Tammy Johnson stayed for 8 glorious nights last December (more about why I mention that later on) -- by about 20 more women who had chosen to skip walking and simply attend the foto op (I do NOT make these things up, folks!). Some of them had eaten at La Perla, as evidenced by the foto above taken on my cell by a Mexican gentleman who ended up taking fotos with 4 more phones. The woman with the eye patch is a native and does not speak English, but we managed to explain to her friend why "gringa" is not a word she wants to use to describe herself. The woman sitting next to me ended up stalking me later on (for real--keep reading!). A few more ladies had come with fotografer husbands, and after they had taken shots for about 15 minutes, I asked them all to join the ladies, and if they had a backbone they could ask for one of our spare pink hats. No takers, altho I did like the fella who wore a pink hat the whole time.

At the restaurant, the fact that I am retired and a former Unitarian Universalist minister came out, and at the table of five there were TWO UUs who immediately repeated the refrain I heard when I moved to La Paz eight years ago: Please start a UU fellowship in La Paz. Across the street, they recruited another person they knew to be a UU to agree that it was a swell idea.  I said I would convene a small gathering at my place to have a conversation about why on earth any of us should do this. And if they could find common ground with me, I would be excited to try to start a liberal religious congregation here structured along the lines of 12-Step programs, As in, I would work myself out of a paid position within a year, and there would never be "leadership" as such in any sense of power over another, only in the sense of service, which is power for the other.

(new hair style i am trying out, thrown in here just for the hell of it)

ALL OF THAT passed through my mind and lips in a 15-minute conversation that happened in front of the Jesús del Mar statue, to which I had been tracked by the aforementioned Katharine, who without preamble said "tell me who you are"! Turns out she is LIFELONG UU who worked for 47 YEARS for AT&T (her only employer) from Denver, new to La Paz, and serious as a heart attack about this idea.

SO, REALLY the only reason to read this blog from here is to see (1) what realities in the usa look like from another country to a racial justice actor, and (2) if I manage to pull off a MAJOR "use white privilege for the benefit of the people who pay for it with their blood, sweat, and tears" revolution in La Paz!

ps--When we disbanded, I walked up to two police -- one male, one female -- and explained / lied to them that it WAS a demo against "el pinche idiota presidente nuevo al otro lado", and they shook my hand and said "gracias, dios bendiga ustedes". #MakeAmericaMexicoAgain

That Was Then, This Is Now

The Baja has been my home for more than seven years, beginning with five in La Paz, which is that diamond of light on the Sea of Cortez just north of Cabo San Lucas at the end of the peninsula. In a rare fit of stability, I lived at the same address my entire time in La Paz. And then started living/traveling in a 1979 Ford El Dorado re-creational vehicle with 118k miles when I bought it and 136k now.

In January 2015, I was living with Snowball in Bahia Asuncion, a fishing village of 3,000 souls just south of Guerrero Negro--halfway up on the Pacific side where that big left hook protrudes--parked outside Gloria's restaurant with the above as my backdoor view. In a notebook I scribbled "It is SO hard to keep recreating my life. This had better be the last time. Oh well, I have to admit that while it is frightening and exhausting, I've never regretted a single move." In part I wanted Asuncion to become home because the previous May a birthday party was thrown for me after I'd been in town less than two days!

And now,so as not to bury the lead, I will tell you that it is my intention in March to drive LaRoVReV one last time, park her and me in Bahia Asuncion again, and hope to stay there for at least the rest of the year. She will be my home again as I "move back to Mexico" is how it feels after a year upcloseandpersonal with life at the border.

Which started last March with a move to Rosarito, fewer than 20 miles south of the USA, during which trip the cat accidentally committed suicide by squeezing out the broken-but-bungie-corded back door as I was doing 70 in the middle of the desert. My destination was a 4-bedroom home on the beach that I planned to share with a friend from La Paz who wanted easy access to southern California. I wanted easy access to reliable internet, reliable city water, a bank or at least an atm, and BUTTER! All of which I got, but my friend got deathly ill after two months and had to move back to Portland, Oregon for medical treatment with about a week's notice. Leaving me with an amazing home complete with prayer room that I could not pay for by myself. Before I had to cut my losses and drive LaRoVReV away in August, however, I had hella fun using my friends' abandoned furnishings and car to entertain the likes of Eleanor Piez and The Carlstad Girls, Tammy Johnson of bellydance teaching fame, and my one-and-only takeaway friend from 2015, the amazing Karina!

Having sold most of my friends' things to the landlord for $1000 to be used for gas, I loaded up the RV with some of her personal stuff and all of my own possessions and headed to Portland to deliver the goods. 

But LaRoVReV made it clear by having a rare breakdown that the summer heat plus mountains was a no-go, so we ended the trip in Oakland. (My friend's stuff got delivered to her a few weeks and a couple of miracles later.) Just in time to change the course of history...

On August 30, I attended the ordination of a redheaded, rebellious stranger at the Church for the Fellowship of All Peoples in San Francisco, was convinced by a congregant to process with clergy, and felt a call to somehow return to ministry!!!

And now that I think of it, the circumstances were eerily similar to my first call. In 1978, I attended an all-day seminar titled "Taking Your Life Seriously", went outside for a cigarette break, had a vision of myself in a white robe, and heard my inner voice state "I guess I will go to seminary." Eighteen months later I started at Starr King School for the Ministry. This time, after the service, I went outside because I was so stirred up, saw a man smoking, and asked if I could stand next to him since I no longer used the stuff. He told me about a bilingual Unitarian Universalist congregation in Chula Vista and gave me contact info.

Everything has felt like destiny since then, and that is as may be, but just like the first time around I may have misunderstood entirely what my part is. In 1980, a Jesuit professor joked that I was meant to be a choir director (anyone who has heard me sing knows that's not true); 35 years later (!), I seem to have been meant only as a reverend roving through.
In October, I worshiped at the church, and it was love at first sight, and not just for me! Before I left that day, I was tempted to believe the two Latinas who said "You are the answer to our prayer for a minister to start a UU congregation in Playas de Tijuana."

QUE TONTERIA! as we like to say in Spanish when faced with utter nonsense. Important things have happened to me and because of me in my five months here, and I am glad to have been here, and it's time to "move back to Mexico." That's how it feels after being up north for a year, especially in Tijuana, where I've had a daily view of The Fucking Fence that separates Tijuana from "el otro lado" -- the other side of same, aka the USA. Also a view of the gorgeous Tijuana boardwalk, thank goodness, from the huge shared  porch of my tiny SRO. Church has meant a weekly trek across "la linea" (Mexicans don't call it the border, they call it "the line" even on bus signs!) that takes one to three hours as a pedestrian and one to four hours in an auto from my home to storefront-church door.
BASTA! I was actually on my way to church when I had the revelation that GOD was not putting me in the way of dealing with the US government on a regular basis, nor was GOD responsible for my contact with my least favorite people, middle-and-professional class white religious liberals. In service of what, I asked myself? And could only come up with (1) a desire for church so strong I blinded myself to the context -- kinda like we do in order to let ourselves have sex with the wrong people -- and (2) ego answers, i.e., the maintenance of my self image and perhaps your regarding me as a sane, useful person. That's as may be, but I learned more than 13 years ago that whatever keeps me further from instead of closer to that next drink is the right choice for me. Turns out I can treat the last two years as an emotional sobriety relapse -- thinking that I could tackle sober and sane what defeated me drunk and nuts. Not true, as it turns out. My serenity lies in the simplicity of the life I chose when I moved to La Paz, in the stunningly simple beauty of Bahia Asuncion, in the letting go of so much and so many I hold dear...

My 2nd-floor home is across the street from the bullring

Congrats for making it this far, dear reader, and here's your reward: the REAL news of this story is that for the very, very first time in my life since I was six years old, I have no anxiety about what is next. And now, I have no doubt that it will include a very different ministry than the one I had in mind. Maybe like the ending of the movie "Resurrection"? Can we all see me as Ellen Burstyn hanging out at Campo Sirena waiting for folks in spiritual need to stop by? Please God, may that include you, since that would certainly fill a spiritual need of my own!
 
Stay tuned, if you like -- I plan to write again towards the end of March from Bahia Asuncion. Internet acess permitting! Oh well, at least this time I will bring four pounds of butter with me and beg freezer space in my friends' restaurant. Come to think of it, I am friends with two of the six restauranteurs in town! Gloria's is behind the RV, and Bertha is inside La Loncheria.

asuncion 2015

bertha, creater of salsa susana

downtown asuncion (jajajajaja)

Mi iglesia nueva / my new church

Meet Tania Marquez, whose ministry, like mine, has clearly begun during her seminary years. She is one of those sparkling souls that has probably come to teach more than to learn. At any rate, she is rumored to be in the pipeline to become minister at my new church, what is called the South Bay Campus of a large Unitarian Universalist congregation in San Diego. For me, it was love at first sight on October 4, and I've decided to show you why and introduce many of you to what was a "typical" UU worship service only in that the elements woven together to form the spiritual container were eclectic and skillfully combined, and the music fine to superb.

the young lady has professional aspirations

Less usual to the point of rarity, from my experience of more than 50 years in and around UUland, are the bilingual process, the youth of the musicians and worship leaders, and the actively involved congregation who MOVE WHEN THEY SING! Below are some of them during the other sine qua non of a UU religious experience, Coffee Hour.

Very few of you will be aware of the complexity of my relationship with Unitarian Universalism, beginning at age 12 when my father left an evangelical ministry began in boyhood and found his way to a godless and successful UU ministry. My self-appointed or god-anointed (who the hell knows?) task as a human being seems to be to afflict the comfortable and comfort the afflicted, and that played out around race and issues of racial justice during my ministry. Not a strong area for this group of primarily socially/economically privileged, primarily white folks. I left in a drunken huff twice, then with some degree of grace and humility after a period of sobriety. That was more than 10 years ago, and no one is more shocked than I about what is clearly the beginning of a new phase of my relationship with the holy, UUland, and my ministry. 

celery and peanut butter!

  And you will be hearing a great deal about a woman by the name of Mar Cardenas and her work about the consequences/effects of what I call The Fucking Fence and what she now calls The FF. If I have anything to say about it, helping to bring that obscenity down -- it is an affront to the dignity of the entire human race, including and perhaps especially those who built it and allow it to stand -- will be why God sent me to Playas de Tijuana and sent the Chula Vista UU congregation to me. But here is the ASTOUNDING news of this post: I am open to being entirely mistaken. I am open to having been sent here to learn love and forgiveness not how to have my vengeance. I am open, as I say each morning in prayer "to the pleasure only this day holds for me." Mar, who is a 6-year UU, is involved with dozens of projects and hundreds of people, but right now the primary identification is with Standing On the Side of Love and the program/retreat center she has built with her husband (above are fotos of a last-minute feast at GaryMar that followed a demonstration/program/catholic service at the FF. ).

And I really don't know why I think anyone might be interested, but I am posting below the Order of Service from that fateful Sunday a mere 25 days ago because I think it is waaay cool!

Don't know if I can keep the blog going -- life is getting kinda busy, but I also like telling the stories...

Peace out, friends. 

susan/a

South Bay Order of Service October 4, 2015

Centering Thought:

"To look back from the stony plain along the road, which led one to that place is not at all the same thing as walking on the road; the perspective, to say the least, changes only with the journey."          -- James Baldwin, Go Tell It On the Mountain

Gathering Bell / Gathering Music (Prelude)

Opening Words

Michael: A veces me siento como un niño sin madre…

Megan: Sometimes I feel like a motherless child . . .  

Michael: Que aquí encuentres, un saludo caluroso, una palabra amable,

Megan:     Here may you find a warm greeting, a kind word, a gentle touch

Michael: A veces me siento como que no tengo ningún amigo

Megan: Sometimes I feel like I have no friend . . .  

Michael: Que aquí encuentres una comunidad de apoyo, un pulso de liberación, una

            visión de esperanza.

Megan: Here may you find a community of support, a pulse of liberation,

a vision of hope

Michael: A veces me siento como que casi me he ido…

Megan: Sometimes I feel I am almost gone . . .  

Michael: Que aqui encuentres una canción para cantar, un momento de silencio, una

mano que sostener.

Megan: Here may you find a song to sing, a moment of silence, a hand to hold

Michael: Aunque estés lejos de tu hogar

Megan: Even when you are a long way from home . . . 

Michael: que estas paredes te acojan, que esta comunidad quebrante tu soledad.

Megan: may these walls give you shelter, may this community break through your

            loneliness

Michael: Y que puedas sentir el abrazo del más grande espíritu de vida

Megan: And may you feel the embrace of a larger Spirit of Life

Michael: Ven, veneremos juntos.

Megan: Come, let us worship together.

Opening Song - #36 Cantando por nuestras vidas”   Megan (soloist)

Welcome

Church Hymn

From all who dwell below the skies, let faith and hope with love arise,

Let beauty, truth and good be sung, through ev’ry land, by ev’ry

De todos bajo el gran sol, surja esperanza fe, amor

Verdad, y belleza cantando, de cada tierra, cada voz.

Church Aspiration& Chalice Lighting

May love be the spirit of this church, may the quest for truth be its sacrament, and service be its prayer. To dwell together in peace, to seek knowledge in freedom, and to help one another in fellowship. This is our.covenant with one another.

El amor es la doctrina de ésta iglesia, la búsqueda de la verdad es su sacramento, y el servicio es su oración. Habitar juntos en paz, buscar la verdad con libertad, y servir a la humanidad juntos, ésto es lo que pactamos unos con otros.

South Bay Welcome

Instrumental Music

Affirmation

We are Unitarian Universalists, A people of Open Minds, Loving Hearts and Welcoming Hands

Somos Unitarios Universalistas, Personas de mentes abiertas, Corazones amorosos, Y manos que dan la bienvenida.

Story for All Ages “One Boy Told Me” a found poem by Naomi Shihab Nye

“One Boy Told Me” is a found poem. A found poems means the poet didn’t make up any of the lines herself. Instead they are all things she overheard a boy say to her and she selected them. About her poem, she said: we all start out as poets, and some just keep up the habit into adulthood. But we can all reconnect to our own lost poets inside when we read everyday encounters like these.

Music lives inside my legs. It’s coming out when I talk.

I’m going to send my valentines To people you don’t even know.

Oatmeal cookies make my throat gallop.

Grown-ups keep their feet on the ground When they swing. I hate that.

Don’t ever say “purpose” again, Let’s throw that word out.

But tomorrow’s in BOLDFACE.

When I grow up my old names Will live in the house Where we live now. I’ll come and visit them.

Is it true that all metal was liquid first? Does that mean if we bought our car earlier they could have served it?

What if the clock said 6:92 instead of 6:30? Would you be scared?

My tongue is the car wash

My toes are dictionaries.

Do you need any words?

From now on I’ll only drink white milk

What does minus mean? I never want to minus you.

Just think—no one has ever seen inside this peanut before!

It is hard being a person.

I do and don’t love you—isn’t that happiness?

Instrumental Music

Offering

Our offering today goes to Project New Village, a non-profit organization that collaborates with organizations and individuals to promote personal, community, and communal wellness in

Southeastern San Diego, particularly among its diverse families. Project New Village connects residents to health resources, and engages youth and adults of diverse backgrounds in wellness activities. Thank-you for your support of this important work. And thank you for supporting this church. The Offering will now be gratefully received.

Offering Music -  “Pequena voz”

Meditation Song - #1012 “When I am frightened”

Meditation

Instrumental Music

Message:   “Faith at Five Thousand Feet”

Closing Song - #1017 “Building a new way”

Closing Words & Extinguish the Chalice

Paul Robeson: Llevaré mi voz dondequiera que estén aquellos quienes deseen escuchar la melodía de la libertad o las palabras que pueden inspirar esperanza y valor en la faz de la

desesperanza y el miedo.

“I shall take my voice wherever there are those who want to hear the melody of freedom or the words that might inspire hope and courage in the face of despair and fear.

Mis armas son de paz, pues es solamente por medio de la paz que se puede lograr la paz.

My weapons are peaceful, for it is only by peace that peace can be achieved.

El canto de la libertad debe de prevalecer. El canto de la libertad debe de prevalecer.” Que construyemos un nuevo camino a esta libertad.

The song of freedom must prevail. The song of freedom must prevail.”

May we build a new way to this freedom.

Closing Music (Postlude) - “Freedom jazz dance”

I HEART LA PAZ

making do: 2day altar

November 2007 I moved to La Paz, and I have loved the place since I was there in a drunken haze with Jamie Bell in 1975. So it was with great pleasure that I accepted the latest surprise gift -- a supposed-to-be-60-hour-turned-to-74-hour jaunt from Bahia Asuncion and back (27 of those hours in the back of a pickup on Carretera Una).

Celso, mi chaufer

And you think there's no legroom on a plane! Oh well, at least I had the back to myself (if you don't count the food bag and 3 very large stuffed toys).

How often have you heard me say "In the Baja, we expect problems, and we expect help"? Celso stopped three times on our drive, altho he could only help twice, and one of those was probably, we all agreed, a scam. But he gave them money just in case we were wrong. And here, they needed only that thing that you loosen/tighten the tire bolts with. And advice/commentary from every male within sight, of course.

I stayed at a friend's b&b, and it was a joy to deepen my connections with her and her son, Arturo Enrique, who was born shortly after I got to La Paz. He does not speak (yet? remains to be seen), but he has fewer communication issues than most people I know! And while ordinarily these sad days I would not post a foto of naked children on the internet, in this case it's integral to the story. When Arturo wandered into the bathroom, he found 3-year-old David in a small washtub. But not too small for new friends, yes? So both mamas, all unphased, simply let the boys be boys and dry off on the bed in front of Jesus! Do you know what it means to me to know Christians not uptight about nudity???

Probably because I dont actually know how to make things go where I want them to with this blogging thing, think of this sentence as "on-hold" music -- it justs fills the space...

Any of you who know the book and/or The One and Only Jeff Chang will be as surprised as he will be when I send him a link to this post. I stopped dead in my tracks when this fella walked in the door of this very large restaurant in a very tiny town on the way to la paz. i asked him if he knew what his shirt said, and then told him it was the name of a famous book about hiphop music, and that I KNOW the very cool guy who wrote it. I was instantly adored by the lad. I promised to bring him the book my next drive down the Baja.

I leave you today with a teaser for two upcoming posts, titled jointly "The Lord Giveth and the Lord Taketh Away", which will relate how I have been given a new church home that I didnt even realize I was longing for, and have lost LaRoVReV to her own new future as a second honeymoon cottage...Plus, here is a fairly gorgeous moon over Campo Serena, Bahia Asuncion, Baja California Sur, Mexico. Peace out, my dears.