Coming Home - December Newsletter

Where do you feel most at home? Architecture and yoga are both art and science. Ultimately both practices are the same. Home is at the heart of them both: buildings shelter a body, heart, mind and soul. The body is home for the heart, and mind; the body is in the soul.

Healing Winds continues to thrive. This makes my heart very happy. Most of my time is here now, whether I am teaching a class, providing a therapeutic treatment, working with Carmen or tending to administrative duties, meeting and greeting the lovely people who enter this space...or simply puttering around the courtyard checking in on our plant life.

What is happening in our studios?

• Sukhasana Studio: Yoga, Meditation, Strength Training, Tai Chi & Qi Gong. 
• The Green Room: Acupuncture with Kim by appointment.
• Libelula Art Studio & Gifts: stop by and check out our little treasures available for purchase - a wonderful array of options for the holidays! The lending library is now in here. Art Classes and Open Studio with Josefina will start up again after the new year.
• Tranquility: Private Yoga Sessions, Thai Massage and Reiki with Tehroma by appointment.
• The Courtyard continues to bloom and be a happy place in the center of the center.

For a current copy of our schedules and pictures, please check out the website: www.healingwinds.space and follow us on Instagram as well as Facebook: Healing Winds Holistic Center.

What is happening in our world of architecture? As I shared last year in the blog "Less is More", Javier and I are now focusing all our design-build energy on our family of long term clients, as each one of us ventures further into our own creative endevours.

Javier continues to invest his time and energy in our five hundred acres of Rancho el Aventadero. More on that in a future post.

His time on the ranch and my time at the healing center offer our relationship an infusion of fresh new energy. We have been married for fourteen years, together for sixteen and working together for twenty one. I feel we have been blessed to do all the work we have together, raise a family and still enjoy each other's company! This time in our lives offers an opportunity to get to know each other on a different level and I enjoy the unfolding of this phase - immensely! - each and every day. If we are working on a design-build project for you, you may have noticed that Javier has stepped in and is working more directly with our clients. This frees my time up to tend to Healing Winds. We have always been great partners and great partnerships require rebooting, refreshing, redefining and space to keep the different aspects of a relationship vital. We are in a wonderful place.

I believe that every day, it's all about coming home. Every creation and experience that inspires that sense of feeling at home with ourselves, loved ones near and dear friends far. When we feel at home, we feel safe, at ease, grounded, open and creative.

For me, creating a sense of safety and feeling at home is at the heart of all my work, personal and professional.

I believe we are citizens of the planet and the earth is our home. I believe in the power of the ripple effect. I can say all of this with grounded certainty, because I feel completely sheltered and at home, right here in Baja, right here with Javier, our family, community, the sky above, earth below, water beyond and mountains too. I live in gratitude for all these blessings. May all beings be safe, live with ease and feel at home.

Happy Holiday Blessings and Healthy New Year to you and Yours!

Tehroma 

"The restlessness in the human heart will never be finally stilled by any person, project, or place. The longing is eternal. This is what constantly qualifies and enlarges our circles of belonging. There is a constant and vital tension between longing and belonging. Without shelter of belonging, our longings would lack direction, focus, and context; they would be aimless and haunted, constantly tugging the heart in a myriad of opposing directions. Without belonging, our longing would be demented. As memory gathers and anchors time, so does belonging shelter longing. Belonging without longing would be empty and dead, a cold frame around emptiness. One often notices this in relationships where the longing has died; they have become arrangements, and there is no longer any shared or vital presence. When longing dies, creativity ceases. The arduous task of being a human is to balance longing and belonging so that they work with and against each other to ensure that all the potential gifts that sleep in the clay of the heart may be awakened and realized in this one life. All our longing is but an eternal echo of the Divine Longing which has created us and sustains us here. Sheltered within the embrace of that Great Belonging we can dare to let our longing lead us towards the mountain of transfiguration."

John O'Donohue
Eternal Echoes
Celtic Reflections On Our Yearning to Belong

Who was your first friend?

A real friend, the one you could say anything to, laugh with, be yourself. Inseparable and unconditional. It is often said that if you can count the amount of real friends on one hand at the end of your life, you are blessed.

My first friend in the world was Eli Blackwell. Our parents were friends. And they picked fruit together. Now that I am sitting down to write about this time, I wonder where that fruit was picked. California, Oregon, Washington or Montana. Maybe all of the above. I remember running in the grass. Playing under trees. Filling plastic baggies with grass that grew under those trees. 

The last time I saw Eli, we were fourteen and sixteen. My mom and I stopped at his parents house in Hood River on our way back from California. An overnight drive between northeastern Oregon and northern California. Mom wanted to bring me to Mexico. My dad said he would consent if he saw me in person first. That was a long and tiring drive in a borrowed white car under sheets of pouring rain.

In this day and age, it seems unlikely to lose track of someone. With social media and the internet. And yet, for almost thirty years, I didn't see or hear about Eli. I looked online. Through phone books. Maybe I crossed over his name through the years and didn't see him. 

Earlier this year, mom found him on facebook. Heart be still. My first friend. Real friend, the one I  could say anything to, laugh with, be myself. Inseparable and unconditional. 

At Tao of Tea in Portland, Eli asked about a statue. A picture I posted. The statue is in my yard in Baja. It was once in his yard in Takilma, Oregon. I remember seeing it there as a child. I have a picture somehwere of Chata, a marble sphynx statue my dad made, in that yard surrounded by greenery. Later, she lived in northern California on a corner coffee table in the living room. After my father dissapeared, my mom brought her home to Mexico. Little by little, I have brought her closer to places I enjoy outside. Knowing now that Eli played with his trucks around her and remembers how she feels, this statue is all the more special. Makes me want to bring her closer to the house.

Life is full of rewards. Reconnecting with my first real friend is a deeply rewarding gift. I cherished our childhood memories all my life. Wondered where he was. How he was. If he was alive. Wondered how or why I couldn't find him. And if I ever would. It was a question mark. Similar to the one I carry around my dad's whereabouts. But different. Because now I have one answer. And another person in this world who knew me as a child, who witnessed my existence and because of that witnessing and remembering, I am positive that that time in my own life did happen. 

As the only child of an only child and a person who moved through different towns, states, across the border, lived with different family members and different families, it has bewildered me to notice that the only person I still know who knew me as a child is my mother. My childhood ties were untied in a way that made me long for connection to that innocent time in life. 

Reflecting and wondering why almost thirty years for such a heartful reward that upon returning home and sharing with my family, I broke down and cried from the top of my head to the tip of of my toes, all that comes to me now: Timing is everything. I look at where I am in my personal life, professional life, middle age and a time between growing up and deciding that maybe growing up is overrated.

My life is dedicated to healing. And still, I use this word sparingly. Words, although beautiful and meaningful can be overused. Overuse leads to dilution. Loss of  rich and powerful meaning. With this in mind and heart, I realize how deeply healing this reconnection is for me on every level...heart, body, mind and soul...my existence, that time in my life, my childhood was witnessed and remembered by my first real friend. A person I witnessed and remembered. The memories I cherished were cherished as well. Sharing makes experience larger than life. 

As we integrate the parts of our life, experience, our being and continuously claim them as part of our entire existence, we feel whole. Healing leads to wholeness. We are always as whole as we can be at each phase in our lives. No more and no less. Always whole. Just different versions of whole.

Laughing with the first real friend I had in this lifetime. A real friend, one I can say anything to, laugh with, be myself. Still feeling inseparable and unconditional.  Sharing the details of our current lives. What we've done and where we've been. Who we share our lives with now. Sharing meaningful memories. Depth of experiences that are empathized. On both sides of the table. Confirmation. I was remembered in a way that I remembered another. That feeling fills me to the brim. My heart is full.

There is more. Do you want to know the best part? After all these years, Eli is a person I want to know now. Be friends with now. He is kind, intelligent, artistic, soulful, thoughtful, funny, interesting and easy to be around. He is a person my kids and husband would appreciate and enjoy knowing too. After so many years, you never know if the relatability will still be there. The easy, back and forth across the table. Comfort with the spaces in between. The intention to maintain a connection forged at the beginning of both our lives. Continue to share the details, the wherabouts, ins and outs of grown up or not so grown up living. Above all, the laughter and joy in friendship shared across miles, years and life unfolding.

Baja or Bust, Sink or Swim

Playing in the Sea of Cortez has been part of my life since I was a little girl camping on the beaches of Sonora. But, that is another story.

People often ask: How long have you lived in Baja? Twenty four years plus two. The summer after turning fifteen and following a year of living with Grandma, as well as, my Neely family, I came down for a visit and fell in love at first sleep on the porch to a moonrise over the Sea of Cortez. Warm, buggy and a not so comfortable hammock. My heart was home.

The next two years included a final year of Secundaria in Santiago, a first year of Preparatoria in La Paz, being the first foreigner to attend school in Santiago, remembering my long forgotten stored in the back my brain Spanish, sticking out like a sore thumb to blending in and just being one of the gang.

When my mom went to enroll me in school at Santiago, their first reply was: No. She doesn't speak the language. My mom advocated, jumped through hoops and pleaded: She will remember. She spoke Spanish when she was a little girl. After eight years of living stateside and only speaking English, my childhood fluency in a second language was all but a memory.

They let me in. That first day of school felt like returning to kindergarten. I felt like everyone was looking at me and that was not entirely my imagination. I was asked how to say things like: How you say "chorizo" in English. Chorizo. And, how do you say "Teresa"? Teresa. Laughter followed by: That sounds like chorizo. I walked to the restroom and cried. It felt like total regress. Starting over. I was comfortable at junior high in Oregon. I played sports, felt at home, had friends and now I was starting over and could only understand and speak very basic Spanish.

To make the experience a little more challenging - because, hey it wasn't challenging enough, right? You have to remember that progress in Baja happens slowly and quickly at the same time. There were no school books and teachers would dictate from their one book in the class room. Students would write every word down. When I heard this, I felt like I was drowning. The Social Studies teacher, realizing I would need help, asked Criselia (yes, Criselia from Greens Restaurant) to let me copy her notes. She was my angel.

I have little idea about what we covered that year. I didn't understand much the first six months, but I learned to memorize and started passing with C's halfway through the year. A bit of a blow to an often strait A student. I wasn't learning academics that year. I was learning that I could do anything, to be creative in my approach, to sink or swim and that I am strong swimmer. The one reprieve, or so I thought, was English as a Second Language. For sure, one class I could get an easy A in. But, no. The teacher wouldn't let me off that easy. She gave me the assignment of reciting the Monday Honores a La Bandera, an equivalent to a Pledge of Alliegence to the Flag. Seriously! I memorized the words, stood up in front of the entire school with a microphone surrounded by over a hundred fellow students. I would say a line, pause, and they would say a line. Until we completed the Honores. At the end, they broke out into applause, which is not part of the Monday routine. I felt deeply supported and so proud of myself. As an introvert, perfeccionist and not feeling very proficient in the language, this was a humble accomplishment. One of many satisfying moments during a challenging year.

Nowadays, there is a Preparatoria or High School in Santiago and Los Barriles. I didn't have those options. I went to La Paz and lived with Georgina Rochin and her sister Rosy. They were in college, hospitable and I slept on a single bed in their one bedroom casita. The first day of school, we sat in a circle, said our names and where we were from. I said: Los Barriles. No one blinked or asked, but where are you from originally? I had remembered my Spanish and recovered my ability to speak the language accent free. My hair is dark brown as are my eyes and I carry myself in a way that easily says: Mexicana. It wasn't until half way through the school year that something tipped off a few fellow students and I was asked, where are you from originally? I was back to strait A's the first semester. 

In a household of students with full schedules, every one participated in keeping house and cooking. Having zero cooking skills, I signed up to dust and mop. That was the year I learned to cook and bake and discovered the art of creating in the kitchen. I found a box of cook books. So many inspiring options! So little of the ingredients available. I searched for delicious options with ingredients I could find. And, I became our little home's official cook. My roomates loved the food and so did their boyfriends. Georgina, to this day, is one of my dearest and closest friends. Our sons are the same age and we get together often for coffee or breakfast, we message, we keep in touch with the unfolding of each others lives. A soul sister for life.

Something happened after that first year of school in La Paz. I went back to Oregon for a visit. And much like I came to Baja for a visit that turned into putting down roots for two years. I stayed in Oregon. I lived with Grandma again and then with my Neely family. I went to Homecoming games and dances, Sweetheart dances and Proms. My dream was to study English Literature and become a Professor. Baja became a memory. It made sense to stay in Oregon. 

Growing up biculturally, for me, came with deep conflicts about where to create a life. My heart was in Baja, but my mind and focus for the future was in the US. I thought long and hard about this quandary. I now had two conflicting dreams. I could study and become the Professor I had dreamed of for as long as I could remember. Visit Baja during vacations and after several decades, I could retire and live out the rest of my days along side the Sea of Cortez. Or, I could follow my heart to Baja, figure it out when I got here and live my days here, where I feel at home. 

I chose the adventure. My mom offered me job. Nothing was free. She opened a door for me. I started cooking for the construction crews. Cleaning the office. Moved on to aswering the phone, tending the office. Ten years of book keeping and working quietly away by myself. Then something happened: a partner left the company. Work was scarce. The architect had little to do. My mom asked him to teach me how to draw  plans. Six years of working side by side. He taught me to draw, to design "site specific", we checked job sites together. But, that is another story.

Returning to Baja took two years. Two years of being where I was, yet feeling pulled home so strongly, feeling heartbroken was part of my existence. I was there and I missed being here. Terribly. I saved my money. Okay, not very much. I chose community college evening classes to graduate from High School as soon as possible. The day I finished my assignments, I turned in my books, said thank you and goodbye. My Neely family asked: Why are you leaving at five thirty in the afternoon? Wait til morning. I knew where I was going and had waited long enough.

Five days of driving one of the smallest cars imaginable - a Yugo! They don't even make them anymore. I stopped in northern California on the way down and dropped off half of my belongings with my dad to help conserve gas. I had a cooler full of essentials. And a friend who came along for the ride. I had just enough money to land in Los Barriles. In southern California, my friend got tired of eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and I got tired of listening to the complaints. We stopped for twelve dollar burgers. I ran out of money and gas just south of La Paz. One long and uncomfortable night was spent sleeping in the car. First thing in the morning, I hitchhiked the rest of the way home. Part way, in the back of a pick up. From the Todos Santos turn off to Los Barriles, up front in a Semitruck with a driver who was new to the curvy, winding road and very open to my suggestions about slowing down, especially rounding the hills of San Antonio.

Dropped off at the fountainless entrance to Los Barriles, my heart soared as I was home. My mom was speechless. This landing was a  surprise. 

As a high school graduation present, my grandpa Jimmy gave me a three wheeler. I hated that thing! In theory, it was great, but in reality, everywhere I drove it, I ended up walking home. My first Baja home was a tiny camper, then upgraded to a small trailer and finally, I really felt like I was moving up in with world when I bought a trailer that had a separete bedroom! Five years of camper to trailer living before I found a piece of land. And, here I stand. Over twenty years, a magical home and beautiful roof over my head. Dylan and Paloma are chatting in the living room, Javier is fishing and my mom is probably painting in her gallery. My grandpa Jimmy passed on the year before Paloma was born, the same year Javier and I got married. He often shared the story of visiting Doña Tila and bouncing a baby Javier on his lap. 

Many stories. Many connections. One land, one heart, one family. One community. Every day, a chance to add to this story. A story of one unique and beautiful life that is connected to so many.

Thank you for reading,
Tehroma

Tehroma and Grandpa Jimmy 1994 or 1995

A time for being in motion and a time for being at rest...

Paloma says she has dreams about Ireland. I dream of Ireland, too. All four of us do, in our own ways. In a family that is bicultural, bilingual and everyone is encouraged to be authentic and honest about who we are, discovering a place we all resonate with equally feels like a unique treasure.

When Paloma was a baby, after a torturous afternoon spent at an event that only one or two of us wanted to attend, Javier and I decided that doing everything together doesn't necessarily make for a unified and happy family. There are events and dates we must all attend, but there are also many that we don't. We created the "Zero Torture" policy in our family. Giving us opportunities to explore our own interests. Opportunities to notice where we line up and where we don't. What we have in common and what we don't. Recognizing the importance of showing up for each other at key moments, even if it is uncomfortable. Balance between exploring, supporting one another and giving each other plenty of space to simply be. This is not always easy, nor always effortful. It is a practice we agree to and it is the best one for our particular and close knit family.

At Pheonix Park in Dublin, Ireland. Summer 2017.

While our interests may differ, we are a family of artists, each one with a unique expression of the soul. We are united in our values, in our hearts and the core of what family means to each one of us. So, when we all fell in love with Ireland and looked at each other at the end of our first trip and someone said, I wish we could stay and everyone agreed, we realized we have found something very special. We vowed to return and honor future thresholds in our lives. 

Paloma, reading the map, looking around and guiding the day. Dublin, Ireland. Summer 2017.

As we venture into the warm month of July, the middle of summer and Paloma's teen years in their beginning of full swing, I remember sharing with Mary in Kildare: She is her own person, but her drive, her energy, her spark - I recognize these qualities in her because I feel them in myself. There is nothing quite like meeting someone who reminds you of yourself, although their own person, to shed light on who and how you are. Shedding light on some of the qualities, as well as, challenges you encounter yourself.

In reviewing older blog posts, journal entries and letters to dear friends, I find a common theme and area of focus: Slowing down. Learning to rest deeply. With my own history of going until I drop, I am aware of the importance of pacing myself to take deep care. This is imperative for my own health: heart, body, mind and soul. I'm not saying I'm good at it. Or bad at it. I am committed to checking in and to practice. I am committed to pausing and creating space in between all the activity and doing in my life. Space between each breath. Space between my thoughts. I invest time and energy in creating  space which results in feeling balanced. At the same time: balance is not static, life is an adventure and sometimes balance feels overrated. While balance is important over the long haul and I know from experience that if it is not created intentionally, life will create it for you, I also recognize that life unfolds in ways I may never have experienced if I were more focused on creating the perfect  daily balance. In other words, sometimes life sends us curve balls or creative opportunities and waves to ride that require a huge output of energy. When these curve balls come my way, I do my best to work with them and trust: rest will come later. When creative opportunities present themselves, I ride the wave. And rest later. Sometimes an hour feels balanced, or a day or week or more. Sometimes not so much. When I reflect on larger chunks of time, I notice patterns and see the overall balance between motion and rest.

Resting and reflecting at a sacred site in Kildare, Ireland. 

Standing next to a beautiful sculpture of Brigid in Kildare, Ireland. Summer 2017.
Brigid is the Celtic Goddess of fire, inspiration, poetry and healing.

A busy first year of Junior High extra curricular activities included Drill Team, Volleyball and Piano. The other day, she said to me: I want to be a musician. My reply, with a heart full ready to burst: You are a musician. And, now that you know that music is your priority, we can look forward and make choices about how to organize your time to support your path as the musician that you are. Remember when you were yawning your way to your last piano lessons this spring because you were tired from long and late nights of volleyball? Let's take some time to rest, keep practicing your music and we will know how to proceed.

I share the interests and areas of external expression and part of my experience as Paloma's mom. I leave the personal, internal expressions for Paloma to share one day as part of her own stories. Raising a teenage daughter who is full of energy, intense and deep thoughts and emotions is a big job and one that I am honored to be here doing. Practicing the art of moving through our intense moments, as well as, learning how and when to be still is a life long practice for any one. Listening, providing guidance, setting boundaries and offering freedom where it is age appropriate are part of an ongoing experience that I realize comes with a threshold to cross when she is older. My hope and intention is that the groundwork created in her early years and now will support her present and  future as she continues to follow her own path in life.

Train ride from Kildare to Dublin. Treasured moments with this young lady. Summer 2017.
Traveling together before her teen years. Honoring the threshold between her childhood and adolescence. 

There is a quote by Lao Tzu that I am reminded of often as I notice the ups and downs, as well as, in betweens of my own creative energy and now my daughter's: Just as you breathe in and breathe out, there is a time for being ahead and time for being behind; a time for being in motion and a time for being at rest; a time for being vigorous and a time for being exhausted...

This park. Our favorite place to rest, take our lunch, a coffee, a walk. A place to chill. Dublin, Ireland. Summer 2017.

Here we are. It is summer of 2018. We are in Baja. No big travel plans this year. Simply plans to enjoy the slow season of summer. Rest, restore and renew. Reflect and reset. Be where we are. Enjoy who we are and each other. Over dinner, we talk about our days, our dreams. We talk about Ireland sometimes and our next trip across the pond. 

Tehroma 

(AKA: Paloma's mom)

"Everything under heaven is a sacred vessel and cannot be contolled. Trying to control leads to ruin. Trying to grasp, we lose. Allow your life to unfold naturally. Know that it too is a vessel of perfection. Just as you breathe in and breathe out, there is a time for being ahead and a time for being behind; a time for being in motion and a time for being at rest; a time for being vigorous and a time for being exhausted; a time for being safe and a time for being in danger." Lao Tzu

A Tale of Two Strollers

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful blue stroller and in this stroller, a lovely fairy princess, named Heidi, traveled up and down the bumpy and meandering roads of her Kingdom, Cabo Este. 

Life was good, for Heidi and her stroller. 

And then, one day, a dove landed. 

She had heard of the magical adventures of Heidi and the beautiful blue stroller. She wished that she could travel the same roads, that Heidi had traveled. 

Heidi, being the generous little girl that she is, and after much thought, decided to bequeath this marvelous invention to the newly landed little one. 

Before saying good bye to her stroller, she sat down underneath a large Palo San Juan tree and put her arm around her stroller. She explained to her stroller that she was a big-little girl now and that it was time for another little girl to enjoy the same adventures she had. 

The stroller was sad, because she loved Heidi and couldn't imagine life without her. But, she trusted Heidi and decided to be strong. Heidi wanted to share her joy with the little dove, and the stroller didn't want to let her down.

The beautiful blue stroller went to live with the little dove. At first, she was shy. She parked herself in a nice corner in the shade where she made herself comfortable while she waited to meet the little one. 

She watched as big people came and went, but no little one. She started to worry, what if there is no little one? What if I am at the wrong house? Oh no! And I miss my Heidi so!

Ah! But, then, just before the stroller could shed a tear, she saw little Paloma and she knew she was at the right house!

Paloma smiled when she saw the beautiful blue stroller. She sat down, and buckled her seat belt, closed her eyes and made a wish, "I wish to travel up and down the bumpy and meandering roads of Cabo Este". Her wish came true, and off they went! Paloma clasped her little hands together and squealed in delight as she took in all the sights.

The beautiful blue stroller slept good that night. So did Paloma.

Life was good, for Paloma and her stroller. 

Then one day, something odd happened. Two big people came to the house where Paloma and her stroller lived. They were carrying a large box. There was writing on the box. It read, 'Paloma only'. They were smiling and talking and before the beautiful blue stroller knew what had happened, there was another blue stroller!

How can that be?, thought the beautiful blue stroller.

I thought I was the only one, thought the beautiful blue stroller.

The new stroller was kind to the beautiful blue stroller. She said, I know how much you miss your Heidi. I have come to be with Paloma, so that you can return to your kingdom, with Heidi the lovely fairy princess.

Oh, the beautiful blue stroller was so happy! For even though she thought Paloma was very sweet, nobody could take the place of Heidi in her heart.

And she waited for Heidi to come for her so that they could travel up and down the bumpy and meandering roads of Cabo Este, just like they had before the dove had landed.

Life was good, for Heidi and Paloma and their two beautiful blue strollers.

Tehroma Lask

July 15, 2005

While I may not have a picture of Heidi and Paloma in their beautiful blue strollers,
here is a picture of these two several years later.
Now, one is thirteen and the other just graduated from high school.
Sweet memories live on in the temple of the soul.

Are You Overtired or Overheated?

Yesterday, I aimed my car alarm at the airconditioner in my office. 

I was closing up and on my way out the door. 

When I heard my car alarm beep and Javier laugh out loud, I realized: this isn't going to work.

Climbing into my trusty Landcruiser, Javier asked if I would like the airconditioner remote to turn on my car. In that moment, I knew I was feeling tired and yet, there is something magical and powerful about laughter, especially, in those unintentional moments of making a loved one laugh.

More than twenty summers in Baja, I have invested time, energy and experience in learning how to stay relatively cool and conserve my energy during the warmer months. Ironically, in the last handful of years, much planning and drawing has happened during the winter and much onsite construction during the summer. The latter entails onsite visits during the warmer months.

As we approached the job site, I began taking pictures of the round rock planters, block curbing, white chalk lines for patio steps and the guys digging to begin their formation. This is in the afternoon sun. This is when the workers are partially covered to protect their skin, to stay relatively cool and work in these conditions. 

These men amaze me and whenever I see them working outside on the west side in the afternoon sun, I marvel and wonder how they do it. When this is your job, you do your best to do the job and stay hydrated and heat is part of the equation. No luxury. This is hot work with hot materials: stone, concrete, metal shovels and the blazing sun overhead. 

I called Javier later that afternoon, after taking photos to send to our client and asked if we can coordinate the work to happen with the trajectory of the sun: work on the west side in the mornings when there is some shade. Work on the east side when the sun is blazing on the west. He said that might work.

Several times in the last week, I have felt overheated. Defeated. I know better. I know how to stay relatively cool and conserve my energy. I take a moment to reflect: what have I done differently this summer and why am I feeling overheated? I've been walking the beach in the mornings after Paloma goes to school. The sun is up. The temps are rising. But, I'm walking along the water's edge, sunblocked and big hat to shade my face. Doesn't matter. The sun can easily zap your energy. I went to a lovely yoga class earlier this week. I enjoyed it very much and walked away with an inspiring poem and some new transitions. Still, I got too hot. My clothes were soaked. For the next two hours, I felt zapped. I know how to stay cool, I tell myself. I let myself overheat. Time, patience, hydration and the body recovers. I see Javier later in the day and say: we need to install airconditioners in the Yoga studio. His reply: don't overthink it, just do it. I'm working on it and wishing I had done this months ago in preparation. I thought about it. Then shelved the idea with: it's okay, we know how to stay cool. This is a luxury.

How do you know when you are overtired? One of my tell alls: when I step into the shower and turn on the water and the temperature doesn't feel right and I try to adjust one faucet and then the other and the water goes from too hot to too cold. I look at the faucets and see the letter "C" and I cannot remember if that means Cold or Caliente. Then I try to remember the universal law of which side is always hot and always cold. And still cannot remember. This tells me: you're overtired. 

Aiming the car alarm at the A/C is a new one. It is also a reminder of the comforts I enjoy: a trusty landcruiser and airconditioning in my office. 

How do our workers feel at the end of the day when they have worked in the sun or mixture of sun and shade? I imagine, very tired. I imagine, feeling the heat. I hope they rest. I hope they feel a cool reprieve. 

I come back to feeling overheated from walking on the beach in the sun or feeling overheated after taking a yoga class and I feel the immense privilege of the life I get to live. A life I have worked hard to create yet remember clearly and regularly what it felt like to live a life without privilege. I aim to create the best working conditions, salaries and experience for our workers, staff, crew and clients. That we may all feel as cared for, as considered, as important, as included, as we all are to each other in this shared life of community, near and far.  

As I sit here, I can feel the sweat beading, ready for a shower with confidence that I am feeling rested and remember which side is hot and which side is cold. Laundry is washing. Paloma is playing her Ukelele. Dylan just made toast. Javier is at Rancho el Aventadero, letting the chickens out to run around. And my yoga mat awaits me with my memory of how I practice in summer: aside from a slower practice, postures that help cool the body, as opposed to postures that increase body temperature. Forward bends, legs up the cool wall, yin and gentle poses, supported restorative chest openers and twists, combining effort and ease to maintain my body temperature and I know: this is a luxury. And I am grateful. Everyday. 

Live in Baja, Love the Outdoors

Outdoor Living in Baja is available year round in the East Cape. Before making Los Barriles, Baja California Sur my permanent home in 1994, I lived in Eastern Oregon. Winters included short days, long dark nights, sometimes snow or ice and temperatures nearing zero. Sunlight was limited as was time outdoors. After spending hours, days and months indoors, by February I felt like I was clawing the walls, desperate for time outside, warmth, fresh air, vitamin D, less clothing, open doors and windows, freedom to move in and out, without the layering required to keep a body warm. On the bright side, I did have my share of snow ball fights, ice pranks down the back of my shirt shock in junior high, some of the usual cold weather outdoor activities and once, I got to ski – seventeen and fearless, I flew down the slopes, fell on my front, sides and behind many times and was lucky to walk away uninjured. On that day, I had the most fun ever until my early thirties when I started kiteboarding, taking advantage of the abundant north wind, as well as, friendly, patient, knowledgeable and professional lessons at Exotikite Kiteboarding.

Summer outdoor BBQ-ing. Relaxed dinner with family and close friends.

One of the main reasons I chose to put down roots and make LB my home was to live in a place where I could live indoor-outdoor twelve months out of the year.  With smart design, considering wind, sun, shade, seasons, natural climate and weather patterns, it is not only possible to enjoy indoor-outdoor living year round, but pleasant. In over twenty years of living here, I have to say the only time it is impossible to enjoy outdoor living is during a hurricane. Even on the coldest day of winter, an outdoor area that is protected from the wind and exposed to the warm rays of sunshine can be cozy and inviting. Without sunshine, it can still be nice, as long as there is wind protection! Add an outdoor chimenea and voila! Even better. On the warmest day of summer, feel the occasional early morning breeze and gentle south wind during its visit, add some ceiling or floor fans and it can be enjoyable to be outside. Frequent swims, cool showers and iced drinks to stay hydrated, slow movement  – not  being in too much of a hurry and the quiet of summer – sans hurricanes – feel like a blessed reprieve. For those who love to hike the ever changing local hillside trails, summer hiking is possible, again – slow movement, much hydration, less distance, early ascent and watch for rattle snakes when you walk. Stop and smell the cactus flower, be home and under shade before the sun blazes down.

Stone steps thoughtfully designed to follow the natural terrain and
carefully built by artisans who have worked with our company for many years

Our bedrooms and office are air-conditioned, making sleeping comfortable, as well as, concentrating on work possible. We did air-condition our entire home for several years, but soon realized – aside from the high power bills – that air-conditioning our home, closing doors and windows, I felt as confined and limited to staying indoors as I had in Eastern Oregon during winter up there. We decided to donate the great room’s A/C to the local high school where our son is now a senior, open our windows and doors, adapt to the daily temperature, cook  outdoors, move slower – during summer in LB, doing less is not only possible, but necessary! Three years ago I enjoyed my first summer offering yoga classes at Healing Winds Holistic Center. After several piped in with the opinion we would need A/C to stay cool and keep classes going all summer, I decided to experiment with adapting the practice to the season – again, slow gentle movement, less is more, cooling, restorative poses and we did it! We stayed relatively cool, the classes lasted all summer and as we transitioned into cooler months, I noticed more energy available and onward we went. I continue to adapt my personal practice and Yoga classes to daily and seasonal climate.

Outdoor areas may serve many purposes.
Spaces designed for different purposes offer the best use of space.

UBL Designs, originally known as VOS en Construction, has been designing and building custom homes since 1991. We have witnessed and been part of more than one boom, as well as, worked through and downsized during the recession. Between 2010 and 2015, for five years, working with clients who over the years have become our friends, we concentrated on additions, remodels and the creation of Outdoor Living. To share with our community some of the unique, beautiful and livable outdoor areas we created, on January 6, 2016, we hosted a Winter Garden and Outdoor Living Area Tour. Eight patios were open to the public to walk through, meander, pause, inspire, sit down, and breathe in the fresh Baja air. People enjoyed the warm, sunlit and wind protected areas. Walked through the shaded, cool and well ventilated areas comfortable for warmer months. Each outdoor area, a style of its own, and reflection of the homeowners themselves - styles ranged from Old Baja with contemporary flair, Santa Fe, Whimsical, Mainland Mexico Colonial and Hacienda, Desert style, with creative and eclectic combinations in each place. Materials included bricks, rocks, pebbles, plaster and a variety of textures and colors, bright shiny tiles, glass bottles, mosaics, wood, concrete and more. Gardens ranged from desert plants, dirt and space between to lush, green, blooming and organic. Seven out of eight gardens still benefit from immediate re-use of gray water, reutilizing water from showers, bathroom sinks and washing machines to irrigate plantings throughout. In the desert, water is scarce and shade is king.

Glass bottle backsplash over outdoor kitchen counter top.
Emits natural light, provides color and sparkle while re-using materials that otherwise might end up in a landfill.

No matter the size of your house, adding a Garden and Outdoor Living Area will increase the unique, beautiful, livable and lovable nature of your Baja Home. The 2016 Winter Garden tour was a blast! Turnout was great and we enjoyed the experience so much that the following year we hosted Heart of the Home Kitchen Tour. Again, what a wonderful experience to share our work and connect with community. Last winter, our town experienced another boom. We found ourselves gratefully inundated with plans, as well as, the construction of a Beach Home we are currently wrapping up. Although we were asked: will you have a tour this year? from wonderfully enthiastic people we would have loved to share more of our work with, we decided to hold off for a year and focus on the work at hand.

We continue to design and build outdoor living areas for our clients: built-in benches, new barbeque areas, landscaping details, and other fun treasures for each unique beautiful livable outdoor area. And  now, here we are, building the outdoor living and garden areas for the beach home that has kept us busy for almost a year. We are planning to open its doors for a tour next winter or spring. Please stay tuned for date and time. We look forward to sharing our work with our community once again.

Thank you for reading,
Tehroma and Team

(This blog post has been adapted from the original article I wrote and was printed in the Eastcapers Magazine Dec/Jan 2015)

My Love for Ireland

July 29, 2017

Written while traveling in Ireland with my daughter last summer...

My love for Ireland began with a connection to John O'Donohue's poetry, which soon directed me to Celtic Wisdom. Here, steeped in resonance with this tradition, I continue to discover a vocabulary that describes how I think, live and feel. I come here to deepen the Celtic Spirit in the heart of my own life, our family, work and community. To rekindle my soul in a place that is far from the creative lists, the things I get to do. And the people I get to share my life with. Sometimes life looks clearer from a distance.

Before this adventure, over a glass of wine with my husband, I shared the realization of what I've created -- aside from all the shared creations with him, the people we work with, community, etc. -- my part: a beast. He laughed out loud. I am blessed with opportunity and open channels to share all my passions. Opportunities and thresholds I have worked hard to step up to. Walk through.

I searched for a word better than beast and found: Wild Thing. One of my son's favorite books when he was little, "Where The Wild Thing's Are". Read so many times, one copy wore out and we got another.

Wild Thing or Camatkarasana
A pose of wonder and astonishment, a way of seeing and experiencing this life.
(Image borrowed with gratitude from the internet.)

In yoga, there is a pose I love called: Wild Thing or Camatkarasana, a pose of wonder and astonishment. A fitting description of how I see this life I get to live. Accompanied by frequent anxiety and the incessant inner question of how will I have time to complete the personal projects I have started...Minute by minute. Day by day. 

Five years ago, I began writing. After a ten year hiatus from painting, I began painting the trail I was walking; hills I was climbing at that time. Fifteen paintings and stacks of writing later, I feel like  "A Thousand Yellow Butterflies" is ready to be culled through, pulling the poems and favorite pieces, completing this work I began that summer. A summer of intense rain, green desert and more butterflies than I had or have seen to date in the East Cape.

Part of our return to Ireland is culminating in a Celtic Journey with Brigid, the patron saint of poetry, peace, healing, unity and other wonders. Mary Meighan will guide our day.

In a recent description of Wild Thing, it said: Don't make this a big deal. Let every breath be a conversation between the earth and the sky.

Namaste,
Tehroma

(Note: almost a year later, the writing continues to wait and unfold. I continue to write and collect material. Time to cull will come.)

Karma Yoga Times Three

The number three shows up in my life in several places at this time.

Three plus ten, how old my teenage daughter is this year.

Trinity knot in Celtic Wisdom. 

Three repetitions in Thai Massage techniques learned in Saint Luis with Jill and then in Berkely with Chuck.

Three years of teaching Yoga (Yoga Alliance Certified). I started teaching at home one year prior to certification. I also began designing and building homes several years before I earned my degree in Architecture. My first born came into the word six months before I married his biological father. I notice a pattern in my life of practice, taking the leap, trying something out before coming home with a piece of paper supporting I can do something.

Three dogs.

Three of us at home full time now that our oldest is in college.

Embarking on my third formal year street legal and commited path in sharing yoga, I reflect on the learnings thus far:

Notice the person or people in the room. The human beings. Not the numbers.

Notice my experience in sharing the practice. Not the numbers.

Notice the experience of the students. Listen, observe, to the best of my abilities, in the moment. Not the numbers.

Notice the shared experience.

Why not the numbers?

In beginning, I was the only summer Yoga teacher. The room was relatively full. I am also the first Yoga teacher to offer this practice in Spanish for our local community. It has been a privilege to introduce Yoga to dozens of interested locals. Mostly women. A few men.

In the beginning, the room was relatively full. Summer turns to fall, another year goes by, the town grows, more Yoga teachers become, the Yoga community grows, some of the locals aren't sure if this practice is for them. The numbers fluctuate.

The constant presence is my own. And Yoga. With one student, with several or with a full room: I learn something. Every time. 

Three breaths. Shenpa. Buddhism. Non attachment. The ability to drop a story line and connect with the feeling in my own body, as well as, within. In turn, connection with our shared humanity.

My experience in leading a session and holding space for others to experience their practice is just that. My experience. While I listen and observe others, as well, as what I am experiencing, I can only speak for how I feel, what I notice, hear and observe from my own lense. It can be tempting to project an experience on another or a group, yet constantly checking in and recognizing: this is my experience, my perception and just that helps me see others as clearly as possible.

I remember the second class I taught in the studio and feeling like I was drowning. The hour felt eternal. I didn't know if I could do it. I breathed, I instructed. We all breathed and moved and stayed. I read something at the end of class. After the closing, I thought: that was terrible, I feel bad, maybe this class should be free or tell everyone: the next one is on the house. I chose to be quiet and not say, but feel and hold space for myself as students got up and put their props away. One woman walked up to me and said: "My hip hurt so badly before class, I could barely walk. I almost didn't come to class. Now, it doesn't hurt at all." That was my first noticing and reminder: my experience in the hour is not my student's experience. While we are sharing a practice, it is important to maintain boundaries, not only on the physical, mental, emotional and spiritual level, but also on the experiential level of who is experiencing what and remembering that one can only speak for one's own experience. By that same token, there were times I thought were wonderful, thought the class was fantastic and that the exprience in the room was shared by all - for sure, they will all come back to the next class, what a great session! Again, not entirely the case. Another reminder to hold space for all and remember that each inner experience is so personal and sometimes so deep that it may or may not be perceived by others. I share this because as a student, there have been times when I have been in class and noticed when a teacher spoke for others by stating what someone or the group was experiencing in that moment, then  checked in and thought, that is not my experience.

More lessons I have learned in these three years:

Set your ego aside. This is not about you. And it is about you. Everything you perceive is part of your experience. Learn from the perceptions. Learn from experience. Personal growth comes from a willingness to see the parts of myself that I might not want to see but need to in order to continually polish the service I provide. I work with these parts in increments and integrate the learnings the best I can on a momentary and daily basis.

For me, sharing Yoga is service. It isn't about the numbers. Or a following. The word following in Yoga has always bewildered me. My aim is to offer a pratice that directs the student towards themselves, their purpose, their joy, their inner world so they may inhabit their outer world and our shared world as fully and completely as possible. That they may work through any blockages that are holding them back, on any level: heart, body, mind and soul. That they may feel as complete as possible in the moment and know that wholeness comes from integrity. Integration and acceptance of all the parts that make up the whole. While we have the ability to change and constantly do, first it may be helpful to shine the light of awareness with loving kindness on our whole being - as much as we can see - and accept ourselves fully or as fully as possible. The greater the acceptance of myself and willingness to grow responsibly, the greater my acceptance is of others, as well as, the greater my ability to bear witness, provide support and guidance when needed. 

One of the greatest lessons I continue to learn is just that: to continue to learn. Continue to cultivate the beauty of the beginner's mind. Continue to open my heart, body, mind and soul with as much patience, compassion and kindness as possible. The more open, patient, compassionate and kind I am with myself, the more open, patient, compassionate and kind I may be with others. 

Of all the styles of Yoga out there and I love them all!...I study, I practice and wonder, which style resonates most deeply with my own unique path? As I look at the creation and unfolding of Healing Winds Holistic Center, the answer is clear and a combination of them all wrapped up in three words: Service. Karma Yoga.

My greatest teacher in the line of selfless service is my husband, Javier. It is because of the work we do together that I enjoy the privilege of teaching yoga as I do.  It is his example of service as a human being that inspires me to serve as I do.

I am grateful to my students, teachers, family, friends and clients. It is an honor and privilege to share the teachings of Yoga. Every time a student shares how this practice has enhanced their life on some or many levels, I feel deeply rewarded and grateful to be able to teach yoga.

And while right now, it is not about the numbers because I have an income generating career in design-build that supports this phase in my learning and growing as a Yoga teacher, I realize that some day the numbers may become a factor that I will have to consider in how I structure classes or private lessons. I am grateful for this time to develop as a teacher so that when that day comes, my foundation as a Yoga teacher will be firmly rooted and established with the integrity and values I base my own practice and sharing of these sacred teachings upon.

Namaste, Tehroma

***

Trinity Knot

Tapestries, as well as, the Celtic knot 
Have threads or lines 
Weaving up, over and under.

The weaving under represents descending into darkness
Or going through a darker
Challenging time
Contraction.

The up and over represents a lighter time
A time of ease
Expansion.

In times of darkness or shadows
Through our own unique experience
We develop insights, understanding 
Compassion and empathy.

Through darkness, through light and in betweens
We connect with ourselves and others 
Inside our shared humanity.

During the darker times, we collect wisdom that we later bring to the surface
Applying the insights, understanding, compassion, empathy and wisdom to our lives 
In the lighter, brighter and maybe even ordinary times.

We can apply the weaving through darkness and light, shadows and in betweens
To our own unique experience of the heart
Knowing that wherever the weave is, in this moment, on this day 
It is simply, yet profoundly, part of a much larger tapestry
A colorful, woven tapestry embracing every unique and beautiful life.

Tehroma