My eyes are about to close on my 3rd day in Arizona, and I can't help but think about the phenomenon of chance, timing, encounters, and if coincidence is just that or a co-conspirator with the great divine that bestows its 'coincidental' magic on us with what we need. Right now, the latter is pertinent. I desperately needed to get out of the city. After nearly a year of staying in one place my nomadic tendencies were playing advocate in my mind " pack a bag girl your suitcase has gotten dusty, this aint like you." And here I am, enriched by my new surroundings. Amanda shares a house in Sedona with her mother and her mother's friend, Suzy. Their house is a sanctuary. In the morning hummingbirds appear in the window outside the room Amanda and I share. There's a lemon, grapefruit, and apple tree in the backyard surrounded by roses and jasmine. The Jasmine reminds me of my early days of first arriving in Perth, Australia. When my heart was still in Asia and Perth's artifice and being acquainted back to western life sheathed me. But the Jasmine growing along fenced line streets perked me up and always beckoned me from the confines. Now, years later I'm invigorated by their scent in Arizona.
It's a full house here, back to the aforementioned topic of coincidence. Suzy's sister Anne is visiting form Michigan with her daughter Kelly and her fiance. Anne is 64 yrs. old and embodies all the badassery and grace I wish to emulate at her age. This morning I watched her play a 12 string guitar as she sang angelically in front of the lemon tree. At lunch the group of us drove out to a pristine lake and I took in Arizona's mystical landscape. I can't get over the cactus and couldn't help but laugh and imagine them all wearing cowboy hats - it just seems fitting. Such peculiar trees, so pronounced and somehow patriarchal. I imagine a giant hand meticulously placing the cactus along the rugged/hilly landscape with how perfect they appear. Amanda's friend told us it takes 100 years for them to reach their fullest height. Imagine, being rooted, bound, and consecrated to the same soil in which you will only evolve from. The beauty of it is that their grand purpose in life is to continually grow upwards. I imagine the most wild love and intimacy being birthed from the same soil, embodied by the lessons of the cactus. Cactus also have the ability to grow arms- such god damn warriors.
Anne ( the future me at 64) and I really connected and shared pieces of our past. And Amanda and I are the epitome of soul sistas, get each other's vibe, coincide peacefully in the present sort of deal.
The sun on my bare skin, the scent of jasmine, running my fingers over the lemons still swaying at the umbilical of their branches. The cactus in their regal extravagance of continuing upward despite the threat of brush fire, of man. And their thorns that intend no harm but to protect...humble, wise, and a great mystery.
I can choose to dwell on the mystery but instead I'm gonna toss a few more jasmine in my water bottle, sip, and fall asleep to the dry Arizona winds and anticipate the hummingbirds...
