Purpose-full

 

Across a sea of Cholla, the fuzzy, teddy-bear looking cactus that will bite you in the ass just for looking at it, a hummingbird lands. This is the Sonoran desert, home to coyotes, quail and bobcats and more recently, to our Nomadic friends, who bought this patch. It may be a bit unusual for nomads to buy land, but not if it’s for benevolent use, like creating a space for women to come and build out their vehicles. There’s power in sharing the abundance of the land, knowledge and know-how of this tribe and their power tools. Skill sharing among women to create livable, mobile domiciles, how can we not come and contribute?

The sun is wrapping the dancing, comical Saguaros with its last rays. I am keenly aware of the phase of the moon and reassured every night by the return of the swirling stars. I notice that I am often trying to convey what’s it like to live in the natural, physical world of outside. My language may not be sufficient. Maybe nomads speak differently altogether. Maybe it’s like a Hong Kong mouse trying to speak with an Arcadian barn mouse: one doesn’t know the sound of scurrying on concrete, the other doesn’t know the scent of hay. Maybe that’s my trepidation, that like other nomads, my language with the sticks n’ bricks folk will diminish, dissipate, disappear.  Then again, maybe I could switch between speaking city and country…

Out here in the vastness and being a part of the baby boomer collective, I often think to myself what’s my purpose, how can I be useful, what does the Universe want me to do? Is it to inspire others to dream and live big but consume little? Is it to fall in love with this planet and fight passionately for its/our survival? Is it to learn about the many cultures, tribes, ways of being in order to connect with others, consider our/US impact on others while perhaps having others impact our own ways of life?

It seems there’s an insatiable drive and desire to explore, to see, to engage and not just in the US, but abroad as well. I’m starting the process of getting German citizenship, the one that was revoked from my Jewish-German grandparents in the 1930’s is now available to their descendants. This would allow me to live in any EU country, like France or Spain, and learn those languages, so that I may learn to trust and communicate and realize that not everyone is anti-Semitic and educate those descendants of the Inquisition that we really are in this together or simply share a meal as we tear down any “otherness” that separates us.

As John Lennon said: “You may say I’m a dreamer, but I’m not the only one. I hope someday you’ll join us. And the world will live as one.” 

I am curious, what would you like to read? Musings from the mists? RV ramblings from the road? How do 2 women and 2 cats share a 21 foot van and survive to tell the tale? How to use your own resources and retire sooner? How to have courage to dream outside the expectations, obligations and capitalist confines? Tell me, would ya?