When I moved back to California to be near my family in Los Altos, it dawned on me that I really didn’t know anything about this town, not even all that well. For the past few years, I only came home during Christmas. When I had any vacation left, I afforded to come home for a long weekend to celebrate Mother’s Day or Father’s Day or Thanksgiving or Easter or birthdays. I never really took the time to get to know the neighbors, let alone get to frequent any of the local businesses and most especially, coffee shops. When I lived in Clintonville, I was a frequent flyer to our neighborhood Starbucks and local artisan coffee shops like Cafe Brioso, Fox in the Snow on 4th, One Line Coffee, Mission Coffee on Price, Stauf’s in Grandview, The Roosevelt Coffeehouse, Cup O Joe in German Village and Clintonville, Global Gallery off of Dunedin. I felt a great sense of home and a radical sense of community I never dreamed of.
I found myself taking walks with an eager desire to meet my neighbors here in Los Altos. Why is this so? Perhaps the Midwest energy has rubbed off me wanting to greet every neighbor, stopping to learn more about them even to stop for a second. It has come naturally for me living away from home and creating a community from Los Altos. Now that I am here at these few moments. Something inside me inspired me to drop my preconceived notions of what the perfect role would be, letting go of deep attachments to the so-called “dream job.” All I wanted to do is do what is needed wherever I go, meeting the locals, learning about their immediate needs and gaps and see how I can be of service. It just takes seconds.
Needless to say, the lessons I have learned along the way have been incredibly humbling turning me inside out. I am currently in a place where I am lucky to walk to the place I work in. I am humbled to share a seat and meet Joe, our 96 yo regular who speaks highly of his grown sons. I am privileged to discover what they love to drink and if I am lucky, I get to learn about them, a sliver of their dream, where they are headed, and what makes them happy. I get to look around me, trees, ants, berry trees and kumquats, dogs, people working on gardens, a gentleman named Bob who always greets my Finnegan with glee, whistling winds and all. I am watching myself being beside myself to be able to have the feet to walk, lungs to breathe this crisp air, the eyes to look and notice, a dog that has no sense of limitation who helps me discover the world through his nose. My writing is not doing this place justice nor can I ever express fully the beauty of the world around me. I won’t even begin to express my deepest gratitude for being sensitive to this world, feeling my living breath and having death near me all at the same time. Feeling the body and sensing the world touching me. I am so in love.
My love letter to you. I write with the deepest reverence. I do not deserve you, a beautiful mother embracing planet earth. I take you so much for granted. I bow down and commit myself to do my insignificant part on this planet. Help me by reflecting on what is needed to be done.
Stay open. Be love. Thank you. xoxo