I am here

I know I am here

When I can feel the rise and fall of 

life flowing through me,
When I can hear my own breathing
In concert with the sounds around me
Birds, the multitude
Of songs, wings flapping
A cow in the distance
The soft rustle of leaves
In the trees
Sheltering doves
Cooing
Cows mooing
When I can see
Light sparkling
Through branches
Onto stone and brick,
A chosen place for
The cat to lay on
His side and curl one paw
As he too listens to
The sound of birds
Singing, flapping wings
A dog barking in the distance
Purple flowers moving,
Bobbing in the breeze
Clouds in light gray
Hovering over bright
Morning sunlight peeking
Through palm fronds
Reminding me
The warmth of day
Motivated me to get out
Of bed to enjoy this
Cool window and when
The sun shines down
It will be time
To move
Knowing, appreciating
This time
Gifted for the dust
Of my mind to settle
Waking with vivid dreams
And mundane things
Concerns and wonderings
The murk, the inner
Gray clouds
And light to shine
On sparkling gems
Found
Along sandy pathways
Of a beloved mind, lived with
Breathed with
Everywhere I go
Knowing, remembering:
I am here.

Tehroma Lask

June 2019

Mindfulness of the Body

 

There are many ways of describing mindfulness and meditation. In this piece, I’ll be sharing one perspective, one voice and encouraging you to cultivate and deepen your own. This is not a “how to” article or exhaustive definition of mindfulness or meditation. It is simply a personal share with one of the things I love most: personal stories.

I like to imagine mindfulness as an ongoing awakening of the senses and through this awakening, a deepening in presence. 

And I like to remember meditation as a natural state of being. Being aware of where and how I am moment to moment, day by day. As many moments as I can. And with as much curiosity, openness and non-judgemental awareness as possible. 

It feels as natural to connect with my five basic senses and a myriad of ways of being in this body as it feels normal to become distracted and forget where I am and momentarily what is real. 

All of the above is constantly changing. My inner world evolves as much as the outer world that surrounds me. 

Two of my favorite teachers, two humans I’ve learned a profound amount about being human are my two children. They are grown and growing. I continue to learn and grow as I watch them learn and grow.

When my firstborn came into the world, I was twenty-two and ten years away from stepping foot into a yoga class and even longer before sitting down for formal meditation. I was young and beginning to learn how to care for another human being’s heart, body, mind and soul. It was a time of intense focus to build a home, a life, a family. I was the company’s bookkeeper and found comfort in long hours at the office spent plugging in numbers and coming up with reports. I spent a lot of time in my head. 

As I watched my son discover the world around him through his senses, I slowly become more connected with my own. I saw him studying toys and anything in front of him with a curious gaze. This brought awareness to see with more curiosity. I saw him smell everything he picked up – the pediatrician asked if he was putting things in his mouth and I said, no, he brings things close and inhales. I paid more attention to my sense of smell deepening my love for plumerias. When we attended children’s parties, he would slowly make is way into the crowd. Taking in the sounds, sights, surroundings. This made me more aware of my own sensitivities to external stimulus. Especially sound. When he was two, he discovered how to turn on the hose and feel the water flowing out. Cool water running over his hands, his small feet connected with the wet earth. This deepened my awareness of sensation, touch, something as simple and wonderful as cool water and how it feels on the skin. And, when he was tired and ready to leave a gathering and pulled on my skirt, I remembered where my body was in space: proprioception. Sight, smell, hearing, touch. Tasting new foods always came after smell, making the experience doubly rich to witness and I imagine to experience.

Towards the end of my twenties, I found myself at home on bed rest awaiting the birth of our second child. This experience brought me deeper into connection with my own body. To be still out of medical instruction and necessity. After two weeks of climbing the walls – I was not accustomed to long periods of stillness – I surrendered. A voice deep within me said, who knows when you will experience this much quiet again? Sink in. I learned to be still and feel my body from the inside out: interoception. 

A few years later, I found yoga, bringing me deeper into my sense awareness, proprioception, interoception. Later, meditation and mindfulness of the body, breath, thoughts and emotions. 

As I continue to grow as a mother, formally and informally in yoga, meditation and mindfulness, my connection to this physical form becomes more alive. Embodied awareness. 

While much is uncertain in this life, I can count on this body to be right here, right now for as long as I am alive and breathing. Moment to moment reminders of where, how and what I am. When I look in the mirror, I see gray hairs and reminders of life passing quickly. I don’t want to miss a moment! I want to live and be as fully present, alive and open to this life I am experiencing. And in the moments when I feel overwhelm, my thoughts racing, worried, sad, angry or anxiety rears its familiar head, when I feel overwhelmed, I can pause. I feel my feet touch the ground, I can see what is front of me, breathe in the air and listen to the rise and fall of sounds, I can take a drink of water and notice how this moment feels, cultivating a sense of being at home in this body. Just for this moment. And the next. I can slow down the racing thoughts, cultivate compassion for the worries and anxieties I notice, I can steady my heart and mind. One moment and breath at a time.

“It is a strange and wonderful fact to be here, walking around in a body, to have a whole world within you and a world at your fingertips outside you. It is an immense privilege, and it is incredible that humans manage to forget the miracle of being here. Rilke said, ‘Being here is so much,’ and it is uncanny how social reality can deaden and numb us so that the mystical wonder of our lives goes totally unnoticed. We are here. We are wildly and dangerously free.” ― John O'Donohue

Diversidad e Inclusividad en Comunidad

Queridos amigos, familiares, empleados, colegas, alumnos, miembros de comunidad y humanos divinos que son:

Me gustaría compartir con ustedes algo importante para mí, tanto en lo personal como lo profesional y sobre todo: humanitario. Comparto lo siguiente en calidad de compartir, invitar, ofrecer. Si algo resuena contigo, bueno. Si no resuena contigo, bueno. Nada a la fuerza. Sin juzgar. 

“Los problemas de las diferentes capacidades o limitaciones físicas no se tratan solo de adaptarse a las necesidades individuales de las personas que experimentan esas limitaciones.

Es un problema para todos nosotros, particularmente porque todos seguramente sentiremos heridos, enfermedades e incapacidades en algún momento de nuestras vidas.

El sexismo y la violencia hacia las mujeres no solo involucran la experiencia de las mujeres, particularmente cuando los perpetradores no son mujeres. Nos involucra a todos.

La homofobia no es solo un problema para los gays, lesbianas, bisexuales y personas transgénero o sin género.

El racismo no solo afecta o involucra a las comunidades de color.

Todos estos problemas requieren conciencia y participación de todos nosotros.

Así es como estamos interrelacionados.

Como escribió el Dr. King, "Requiere conciencia de todos nosotros".

La creación de la paz en el mundo, que tan desesperadamente la necesita, no es diferente a la creación de la paz dentro de nosotros mismos ". ~ Larry Yang 

DEIA = Diversidad, Equidad, Inclusividad y Accesibilidad es parte de una formación y especialidad que estoy cursando desde Febrero 2021-Febrero 2023. El DEIA cae bajo una formación de maestros de meditación -- MMTCP = Mindfulness Meditation Teacher Certification Program -- con maestros reconocidos a nivel internacional: Jack Kornfield y Tara Brach.

Esta formación recibió más de 6,000 aplicantes, de las cuales quedamos en el programa 2,500 alumnos y practicantes de meditación de 75 diferentes países a nivel mundial. Es profundamente gratificante haber quedado en el programa, estudiar con maestras compasivos, con experiencia amplia y con compañeros diversos de diferentes partes del mundo. He conocido a personas con diversas culturas, creencias, niveles socioeconómicos, orientación sexual, identidad de género y así sucesivamente. Sirve recordar que formamos parte de un mundo amplio y diverso. Y mientras podemos leer sobre la diversidad y sirve, vivir la diversidad e incorporarla en nuestra vida cotidiana, es normalizar la diversidad. Es celebrar nuestras diferencias y reconocer que cada persona aportamos algo único, bello y vivible a esta experiencia humildemente humano, divino y compartido.

Dentro del DEIA, un área importante para mí apoyar es la comunidad de LGBTQ y en especial dentro de la misma comunidad, las personas que se identifican como transgénero o no-binario. Cuando una persona, joven o de cualquier edad, vive en experiencia propia la transición o evolución de identidad de género afecta profundamente a toda la familia. Hay herramientas para apoyar tanto a uno mismo como toda la familia. Así, vivir la transición con menos estrés y más tranquilidad para todos.

Si algo me ha ensenado esta pandemia es: El cambio sucederá, si me gusta o no. Sufro menos cuando apoyo mi bienestar para fluir con los cambios. Sufro menos cuando apoyo al prójimo y respeto su diversidad. Sufro menos cuando bajo la resistencia. Sufro menos cuando abro mi mente y corazón a aprender. Sufro menos cuando practico humildad y compasión.

Dependiendo de donde vivimos en el planeta y otros factores, tenemos diferentes derechos para decidir como fluir con los cambios.

¿Como quieres ser tú en este tiempo de evolución?

Que elijes: ¿Resistir los cambios? ¿Aprender algo nuevo con humildad?

La elección es tuya. Toma tu tiempo. Nada a la fuerza.

Que tu elección sea tuya, curiosa y compasiva. Sin juzgar.

 A continuación, se encuentran los acuerdos para interacciones multiculturales que usamos como base en nuestras reuniones del DEIA y Meditacion de Atencion Plena.

 Tan solo leerlas, en mi opinión, ayudan a abrir la mente y el corazón, tanto como poner los pies sobre la tierra.

 

Acuerdos para interacciones multiculturales de EBMC

(East Bay Meditation Center)

 

Pruébelo: esté dispuesto a "probar" nuevas ideas o formas de hacer las cosas que podrían no ser las que prefiere o con las que está familiarizado. 

Practique el enfoque personal: preste atención y hable sobre sus propias experiencias y respuestas. No hable por todo un grupo ni exprese suposiciones sobre la experiencia de otros. 

Comprenda la diferencia entre "intención e impacto": intente comprender y reconocer el impacto. Negar el impacto de algo dicho centrándose en la intención suele ser más destructivo que la interacción inicial. 

Practique "Ambos / Y": Al hablar, sustituya "pero" por "y". Esta práctica reconoce y honra múltiples realidades. 

Abstenerse de culparse o avergonzarse a sí mismo y a los demás: practique dar una retroalimentación hábil. 

Acercar / Retroceder: Fomente la participación total de todos los presentes. Toma nota de quien está hablando y quién no. Si tiende a hablar con frecuencia, considere "retroceder" y viceversa. 

Practica la escucha consciente: trata de evitar planificar lo que dirás mientras escuchas a los demás. Esté dispuesto a sorprenderse, a aprender algo nuevo. Escuche con todo su ser. 

Confidencialidad: llévese los conocimientos adquiridos a casa, pero no identifique a nadie más que a usted mismo, ni ahora ni más tarde. Si desea hacer un seguimiento con alguien con respecto a algo que dijo en esta sesión, pregunte primero y respete sus deseos. 

Derecho a pasar: puede decir "paso" si no desea hablar. 

 

Gracias por tu tiempo valioso y por leer este mensaje. 

Con amor, compasión y humildad,

Tehroma Lask

Ser Humano

Madre

Esposa

Hija

Amiga

Arquitecto

Maestra de Yoga & Meditación

Terapeuta de Masaje Tailandes y Reiki Master

 

 

 

A Fresh Beginning

When lockdown began in March of 2020, I was four months into a record short retirement. After twenty plus years of working in the field of construction, I was working full time teaching yoga & meditation to group classes and private sessions; offering Thai Massage and Reiki treatments; working with others to continue our healing modalities and classes in HWHC. I loved the work I was doing and I deeply missed the creative vision, process and manifestation of architectural design; seeing these imaginings become buildings or spaces people would live in. 

With a world at home on lockdown, I realized people might be rethinking how they live in their homes; ourselves included. The spaces we dwell in naturally evolve to accommodate how unfolding times inspire us to live. 

During uncertain times, I felt fortunate to step back into a line of work that would help provide income for our family, office staff, workers, sub-contractors and contribute to our local economy. We could be of service and flourish in times that were and continue to be uncertain; when others might be losing the only line of work they had. Or find themselves struggling to keep a business afloat amid the challenges.

Javier and I stayed at HWHC with our office staff until a year into the pandemic. As therapeutic treatments were coming to an end, it became clear that a five-studio building with courtyard in the center was more space than required to run our design-build business. All we needed was an office with a reception. Staying on would not fulfill the potential this space had to offer. We’d had our time.

During a visit with my mom, she asked if we wanted to move back into our old office. 

The yoga studio was open at the time. We had reopened in September of 2020 following all the safety protocol. Closed in January when case numbers spiked. Reopened in March when the numbers dropped. I had had my eye on the patio above Galeria Los Angeles for teaching yoga. Outdoors, fresh air, connected with nature. Being outside felt like the safest place to gather small groups of people for classes. When I heard that a hotel was being built in front of HWHC, this confirmed what I was ready to accept.

It was time to move. So, we did. As you drive up the Delegation road, you can see how we revived the building where Galeria Los Angeles remains; memories of art classes and coffee with our unique, beautiful, livable design-build office in the back. My mom, Sally, who owns the building gave me cart blanche in the renovation. I chose the colors from memory and long walks in Santa Fe: Soft adobe colored walls and lively periwinkle iron grates adorn the building. A stunning combination of colors. Tin roof over the patio for yoga and classes. A view of the Sea of Cortez.

Starting in May 2021, I began teaching yoga and meditation upstairs on that patio. At that time, I posted a picture of the Healing Winds building on IG and FB, one of my favorite features: the traveling pool of light in the center of its central courtyard: 

This building has been one of my greatest and deepest teachers. From the moment the yoga studio opened in 2009 to the unfolding realization of the healing center it became in 2013 to the full circle of offering our core work in design and build and staying strong through the surprises of 2020. And every breath in between. I have worked in every one of its five studios. I know this building inside and out. Every inch that was born in my imagination to every inch I’ve breathed in. Heart, body, mind and soul. The deepest learning has been in relationship with the people I have met, shared space with, learned, grown and healed with. Laughed and breathed with. My connection to the building runs as deep as the one I feel with any building I’ve designed, built, created and then some. And my favorite feature, the one I’ve photographed infinitely is the opening to the sky, that fascinating pool of light that is constantly moving and changing. Even when it feels still. And sounds of silence. In between the cars and life passing by outside the courtyard. The opening of gratitude and infinite possibilities. An openness to all that was, is and will be. Filled with curiosity for how much space a place can breathe life.

One person’s transition affects the lives of others. With that awareness, I want to say thank you with my whole heart to all who were part of the Healing Wind’s experience; may the learning, growing and healing continue to nurture our hearts, bodies, minds and souls, wherever our lives may take us. 

When you drive up the Delegation road, past our current location, towards what used to be Healing Winds, you will see the building’s new vision coming to life through Juan Jose Gomez, Luis Villavicencio and building’s new name: Plaza Buenos Aires. These two fine men have partnered up and rented the entire building. JJ and Luis have a great vision that will continue to fill the space with good energy and people. 

For every fresh beginning happening in our community, near and far, my wish is for health, happiness, peace, success and fulfillment: heart, body, mind and soul.

“When the heart is ready for a fresh beginning, unforeseen things can emerge. And in a sense, this is exactly what a beginning does. It is an opening for surprises. Surrounding the intention and the act of beginning, there are always exciting possibilities. Such beginnings have their own mind, and they invite and unveil new gifts and arrivals in one’s life. Beginnings are new horizons that want to be seen; they are not regressions or repetitions. Somehow they win clearance and become fiercely free of the grip of the past. What is the new horizon in you that wants to be seen?” ~ John O’Donohue

Forgiveness & The Art of Letting Go

 

I've learned alot about forgiveness of others through the practice of forgiving myself. I've learned alot about forgiveness of self through an intimate relationship with nature. 

During my thirties I became very active practicing yoga, hiking local trails and kiteboarding during the windy months in Los Barriles. In spite of my discipline, life would often interrupt. Sometimes I would miss a class or a hike or time on the water. Windy days would pull me to the sea and were hard to ignore or pass up. Working full time and raising a family meant the wind could not dictate my life. Nor could the trails. Or a class. When I missed time with others, I felt like I had fallen short. With my time spread thin in those days, I often felt like I wasn't enough, like I could never do enough. I often felt like I was struggling to keep up. I wanted to be enough, to feel like I was enough. Just as I was. 

I realized one day when I returned to the beach after some time away, as I felt the wind in my face and got back on the water: I was received completely. As I was. The same happened in the desert. When I returned to the trails and felt one foot in front of the other while marveling at boulders, desert trees and flowers after rains: I was received. Completely. No questions asked. No reproach. I felt forgiven for my absences, shortcomings, mistakes. No judgement. Welcome to be present whenever and however I could. I felt the space to learn and grow and be. I felt like I was enough. Just as I was. And know I am enough. Human. Constantly learning with a heartfull wish to remain open to the magic, surprises and humbling experience of this human incarnation. 

The meditation below is inspired by my personal experience and practice and requires about 20 minutes, maybe a little longer. You are welcome to simply read the meditation and let the words percolate into the heart and mind. Later allowing the meditation and practice to surface in your own words. Feel free to make this practice your own, allow it to evolve and morph into whatever shape or form feels most supportive to you in your personal practice. As you read along, please consider everything offered here to be in the spirit of invitation. Whatever resonates with personally: take it with you. Whatever does not resonate with you personally: feel free to let it go. 

The spirit of embodiment; a practice in cultivating a forgiving heart; a forgiving nature.

Whenever you are ready, feel free to find a comfortable position, you might choose to sit, stand or lay down. Honoring whatever position feels right for you body today, balancing effort and ease, tranquility and alertness. Allow your eyelids to be relaxed, slightly open or closed. Grounding the body, feeling – inspired by the words of John O’Donohue – the clay of the body connecting with the clay of the earth.

Taking a few slow, deep breaths, notice what is present for you right now. Simply noticing. Without judgement or trying to do anything. Being with the breath and whatever arises for you in the next few moments.

Deepening the connection between the physical body and physical earth, we are going to call on memory, an opening to the imagination, calling on a place that feels forgiving to you; a place you can return to over and over. A place that welcomes your presence, forgives your absence and does not judge you; a place that accepts you, receives you as you are. A resource. Maybe a place nature: a body of water, mountain, desert, forest, or a building. Maybe the place or room you are in right now.

A few more breaths. Taking your time.

1. With kindness and opening deeper to memory, recalling a person, group, situation or maybe even an institution you might wish to forgive, perhaps someone or something you feel connected to in a way that creates tightening, constriction, that might not allow you to be fully present when you think of them. A memory that hooks your attention making it challenging to be fully present. A being or beings you might wish to feel liberated from the bonds of difficult emotions.

Gently acknowledging whatever has arisen, creating space for this experience to be held with kindness.

Opening to the experience of the moment, being with whatever arises without judgement. 

A few more breaths. 

Gently letting go and returning to your resource, sensing the connection: grounding your body, feeling your connection with the earth.

2. Returning, opening, deepening and remembering: this being or others or thing you wish to forgive.

This time, noticing if there is a storyline. This might be a storyline that has played in loops in your mind. A reoccurring story that you are familiar with. Allowing the words to string themselves together. Witnessing the story as it unfolds within you. 

And now, gently pressing pause on the storyline.

Inviting your awareness to scan your physical body, sensing. Allowing your attention to move to wherever you might feel sensation. Maybe the belly, chest, throat, the muscles around your face. Another place. Directing your breathing, lovingkindness and attention to this area or these areas of the body. 

Noticing if there is an emotion, a cluster of emotions or feeling state you can name. What do you feel?

A few common emotions that may arise in conjunction with difficulty letting go and forgiveness of others: feeling wronged, betrayed, hurt, sadness, anger, grief. 

Whatever you feel. Leaning in and honoring your experience and holding space for yourself with compassion and any amount of ease.

A few more breaths.

Then seeing if you can let go and gently return to your resource, your physical body and

a grounded place that embodies forgiveness for you.

3. Deepening and for our final visit, remembering the being or beings you wish to forgive, imagining them feeling everything you have felt; whatever feeling sate or emotion that has come up in you that makes it difficult to forgive, to let go. 

Imagine standing on the same earth, breathing the same air and experiencing the same emotions – your storylines, backgrounds, beliefs, personalities, and much more may differ – gently leaning into the experience with compassion for yourself. 

A few more breaths. Leaning into your experience with kindness. Taking your time. No rush, no force, being wherever you are today.

And now, if it feels possible, available and authentic, offering any amount of compassion to the other. This may be the most difficult part. In fact, this phase may be practiced on its own after some time working with steps 1 and 2.

Forgiveness does not mean you condone whatever has happened to you or between you nor does this mean you allow it to happen again. You might even take a stand to prevent this from happening to yourself or another.

Simply and profoundly, this practice invites you to you allow the story to be part of your history. Deepening your well of wisdom. 

Through a willingness and openness to feel your own hurt, anger, feeling of betrayal, sadness or grief – or whatever is present for you right now -- you allow the light to shine through the cracks and open to your own heart.

Letting go, any amount and remaining open to life. 

Feeling your vitality and willingness to be with your own humanity, the entirety of your experience, recognizing the continual flux and change moment to moment, day by day, remembering this part of your story does not define you.

This willingness to be with it all gives you range, depth and the ongoing ability to be with yourself, as well as, with others who may experience the same emotions or feeling states alive in you right now.

As we move towards closing our meditation session, a few full breaths, feeling the clay of the body connecting with the clay of the earth, traveling to this place of forgiveness within you, this place that does not judge you, accepts you for who you are, holds you with lovingkindness and utmost care. Embodying the spirit of forgiveness, cultivating a forgiving heart and a forgiving nature. May you be happy, free and present to the life within and around you. One breath at a time.

“Forgiving yourself allows you to let go of the person you thought you needed to be. Forgiving others allows you to accept what has happened and let go of needing to change it.” 

Najwa Zebian

A Little Family History

 

Dear Friends,

I love stories. Personal stories. I'd like to share a little about myself and why this particular part of the Mindfulness Meditation Teacher Certification Program: Diversity, Equity, Inclusion and Accesibility Training is important to me personally.

A little family history to create a foundation. My father was born in Germany after World War II. His parents were Jewish Holocaust survivors. They migrated to the US when he was small to live, as my grandmother liked to say with a smile: The American Dream :-) My mother was born in Texas (very much of Irish and Scottish decent). My parents married and chose a life of overlanding. Their travels carried them mostly up and down the west coast of the US and throughout Mexico. While my mom was pregnant with me in southern Mexico, she and my dad managed to hitchhike back to Oregon so I could be born in the US. Eight months pregnant and hitchhiking! Seriously. Jogging to get in the next car.

My childhood continued with these travels. I spoke English first and began speaking Spanish at the age of four naturally from hanging out with the locals. I was a toe head who blended in culturally and yet stood out physically. When I was seven, my parents decided to settle down in northern California, leaving Mexico behind until my mom returned when I was a teenager and I had forgotten my Spanish. I'd disconnected from this place physically, culturally, linguistically. When she moved here, I rebelled and stayed in the US. Then decided to follow in her footsteps and was immersed in ninth grade. It was like starting kindergarten. Regression. My language skills were basic. Gracias y porfavor. Six months of immersion and my mom was right, I did remember. Again, I blended in culturally and stood out physically.

The next few years included a deep conflict about where to eventually build a life. When I would return to the US to visit, Mexico was a dream. I wanted to stay there. When I visited here, the US became a dream. I wanted only to be here.

My heart is here and so I began a life here as a young adult. Immersed in the Mexican culture and community. Until my early thirties when I started taking yoga classes. Then, only offered in English. I started kiteboarding. Wind and waves draw athletes to this beautiful destination. Yoga, wind and water were my social reconnection with the US. This filled a need I had to reopen and include this part of myself.

I am married to a local. Our children are bilingual and bicultural.

For a great deal of my life, I didn't feel like I belonged to either culture and at the same time, I belong everywhere I am. Because I wasn't sure where I fit in and often felt like I was straddling both sides of the border, somewhere in the middle, I found a sense of freedom. To be who I am. And create my own path. I imagine this discovery in my life lead me to Buddhism. A natural fit. The middle road.

I am an architect. My husband is a civil engineer. We've been business partners for over twenty years. Longer than we've been married. We were friends and colleagues for several years before I realized: I love this man.

Realizing that no one was teaching yoga in Spanish to the local community --- booming offerings in English for tourists and part timers or expats --- I became certified six years ago and teach in both languages. I started in Spanish with the locals and then branched out.

Our clients are predominately from the US or Canada or abroad. We live in Mexico. A developing country. In a rural area where goats still walk the dirt road by our house daily. I can hear their bells as they meander by. The beauty of Baja captured my heart when I was a teen. A moon rise over the Sea of Cortez and that was it. This place draws people in. Many who are from different backgrounds.

Now, my life feels more balanced in both cultures and within my own being. I continue to navigate with a certain freedom. And, I have questions. I have so much to learn about diversity, equity, inclusivity and accessibility.

Thank you for listening. I look forward to learning more about each one of you.

With love and deep gratitude,

Tehroma

This letter was written to my Affinity Home group as we are encouraged to introduce ourselves to our group of peers at the onset of each program. The entire MMTCP program runs two years: February 2021-February 2023. The required affinity home group for DEIA is considered a critical and fulfilling part of our journey in the the MMTCP, filling a time period of June 2021-December 2021.

Count Olaf

Count Olaf is one of the main characters from a movie I watched with my kids years ago: A Series of Misfortunate Events. This came to memory when I heard we were expecting Hurricane Olaf.

Quite fitting. Hurricanes come with a series of misfortunate events. High winds cause destruction. Heavy rainfall causes flooding. Power outages, water shortage and disconnect from the outer world. Hurricanes are dangerous, scary and humbling.

Hurricanes also bring fortunate events. Rain to quench a thirsty desert. Greenery to feed free range cows. Aquifer replenished for all our water needs. Family time. Deepen connection with the inner world. 

Destruction and creation. Disconnection and connection. No power or internet at home creates space for a different kind of communication. I asked the kids if they notice any advantages of not having internet for a while. Their answer is no. I remember they came into a world with internet available at their fingertips. At times I've wondered if Google replaced me.

Up at the ranch on this Sunday, a few days after our first hurricane in a few years. Solar power, water from local natural spring and satellite internet. We came up here for our youngest to complete their homework due by Monday morning. The likelihood of us returning tomorrow is high.

I remember conversations Javier and I had about moving our family here years ago. We decided against it because Palo, our youngest child now sixteen, would be too isolated during their high school years. This reasoning feels ironic. We are now a year and half into a pandemic and a second school year online. 

While we are comfortable here for a few hours and maybe a whole day, to stay up here as a family in one room is a little too much togetherness after all the time together during our extended lockdown.

Since the pandemic began in March of 2020, we’ve been cautious and respectful of protocol. Palo’s history of asthma, memories of sleepless nights and labored breathing are deeply ingrained. It is possible at age 16 they have outgrown their asthma. We choose to error on the side of caution until we are all vaccinated.

Javier and I are fully vaccinated. Dylan, now 23, awaits his second jab. Vaccination against Covid-19 is not available for minors in Mexico. Not yet. We hear Pfizer has been approved for 12+ in our country. Lack of sufficient vaccines means we wait.

Meanwhile, across our northern border, vaccines are available for 12+ and free. 

We can’t travel because Palo's passport expired in May. I filled out the form for a new passport. We need pictures and to send the form to the US. Hurricane Olaf hit and we are stalled. And now there is no rush. A few more days after months of wondering: Do we travel and expose them or do we wait? This question has been answered for us. We wait. At least we can feel like we are doing something. This offers us hope. As do the friends up north who have reached out said: Come stay with us! We feel deeply loved and supported.

Meanwhile, the entire country is full of teens who will not be vaccinated except for the fortunate few who can cross the border. As we wait together I am reminded of the inequity in distribution or availability of resources.

Having been born in the US and ensuring my children’s dual citizenship, the privilege of being able to go where we want or need to go has been conveniently available. Within reason. At least we've felt like we had the freedom and access to whatever we needed. This experience of not having immediate access to a vaccine for my kid who is of age and eligible is humbling, a reminder that people all over the world suffer from inequitable distribution or access to resources: funding, food, water, safe housing, education, vaccines.

We are fortunate to live on a knoll in a house built with concrete and steel with storm shutters that cover our windows and protect the glass from flying objects. We are fortunate to feel safe when parked underneath a moving natural disaster with destruction in its wake.

And here I sit. Off grid. A fan whirling overhead. Privileged. Comfortable. Grateful. Overwhelmed. Breathing a sigh of relief. Feeling the quality of pressing a reset button. 

Hurricanes are similar to traveling.  A journey. We are not the same as we were before the storm. We go into the dark of night and get up the next day, look around and what we see is different than the day before. 

And it isn’t all dark and messy. In the middle of the night, Palo and Ollie came into our room, tapped me on the shoulder and said: Can we stay here with you? They couldn’t sleep and then I was awake. We were whispering and giggling and Javier got up. Moved to the couch. Palo turned on the flashlight and we started making shadow puppets. I made a chicken and then a giraffe. They laughed and said they looked the same. I demonstrated: chickens have short necks, giraffes have long necks. We talked about waffles and breakfast. Bacon and cheese waffles with and egg on top. Red velvet waffles for my birthday. Oatmeal waffle cake for Javier’s birthday this month. His favorite cookies are oatmeal. We’ve never made an oatmeal waffle cake. Waffle irons don’t heat up the house like an oven does. Shadows puppets, waffles, laughter, Ollie, our little white fluffy dog sleeping and the sound of the wind. The comfort of being near each other and knowing our entire family was under one roof. Pets were safe and so were we. 

I will close this post with gratitude and pride for our kiddos. They put up storm shutters with us in the drizzling rain, rolled with all the punches that hurricanes bring without an eye roll, foot drag or hiccup: preparation, going through and the aftermath. Just like we have so many times before. Seasoned pros. The two of them taking one of our old lady dogs to the vet when she couldn't get up and walk outside on her own. Then Dylan carrying her out to do her business and carrying her back inside again. This one is no small dog, part German Shepherd. As a parent, I often wonder how these two will be as adults. This weekend with all it tossed in the air, reassures this momma mind. We are raising resilient, intelligent, wise, kind and caring adults in the making. And, Google has not replaced me.

"When you come out of the storm, you won't be the same person who walked in. 

That's what the storm's all about." 

~ Haruki Murakami