We are not humans having a spiritual experience but spiritual beings having a human experience. (Pierre Teilhard de Chardin)

December 26, 2011

We have just experienced our first Christmas in Santa Fe, far away from everything we’ve known for over half a century. A very long time! This morning I felt a need to arise and watch the dawn ascend upon the mountains. As I write, the distant mountaintops are shimmering snow over lavender rock against a pale blue ski encircled in a pink misty glow fading back into blue grey. It’s hard to imagine how life was when all I saw were trees encompassing my world. Beautiful too, but not like this. The effects of distant mountains and a horizon of pure emptiness, shades of silver and grey, do thing to your soul that trees and smothering green never could ever accomplish. A friend/neighbor told me a guest from Tibet entered their home and immediately went onto their deck for a seemingly very long period of time. Confused at first, she was afraid that the house had somehow offended him. But when he finally entered the house smiling, he told her that it is no mistake that monasteries are high on the mountaintops. He said he was outside renewing his soul after the long journey. And the high desert does just that.

This Christmas season we had the privilege of experiencing Christmas Santa Fe style. If you ever have the opportunity to do the same, I highly recommend it. Santa Fe has not lost the meaning of Christmas, nor of spirituality obscured by material things. As I said in a previous blog, no focus on Santas aboard fire trucks opening malls here! Spirituality runs deep in the heart of Santa Fe and the desert. These harsh lands gave birth to thousands of years of very isolated traditions which have left their imprint on the heart of the land and its people. The many events taking place here are based on traditions. So many, it’s impossible to take them all in. I find myself looking forward to next year and the experiences of the things we missed this time around! But of that which I did experience I can now tell you the tales.

For years I have been looking forward to Las Posadas in The Plaza, and I was delighted that this year I would finally be a part of the celebration. My first impression was amazement at the events here that all happen in such an orderly fashion, seemingly without instruction or directions. That is an element which is frequently missing from life back East, but it is indeed what tradition is all about! “Old timers” to events here happily show the newcomers how it’s done, how it has been done for hundreds of years. People seem very natural and happy in sharing here. A ritual of sharing at one time insured survival, I suppose.

I have lived near Philadelphia my whole life, and this is not meant as a criticism but as a statement of fact— Philly crowds can be a bit unruly at events. I never remember attending anything in Philly that wasn’t a body crushing mass of overly exuberant (I mean loud) fans of the event, where shouting and loud conversations usually crossed twenty five feet or more. It seemed as if no one ever talked to someone within actual ear range. On this night in The Plaza, people began to gather for the event. Some obvious tourists asked what was going on, and since I had only read about it, I couldn’t offer more than sketchy details. As the sky darkened, seemingly out of nowhere carts filled with cardboard encircled candles arrived and slowly encircled The Plaza. People quietly walked up to receive theirs and to share them with others. And when the time was right, a few candles were lit by someone manning the carts, and those folks with lighted ones walked to pass them on to the rest of us until the entire Plaza was filled with a candle-lit crowd. As the Christmas lights sparkled on the snow, the song of a gentle guitar began. Mary and Joseph had arrived, and they began the journey to look for an inn for the night.

Followed by guitar players and a small chorus, they proceeded around The Plaza seeking

The devil appears on the rooftop

shelter at the surrounding shops. When they’d stop and ask for directions, “devils” appeared on the low rooftops and shouted down (in Spanish, of course) that there was “no room at the inn!” On cue, the crowd booed the devil’s response. Unlike Philly, there were no shouts of, “Hey, yo, Devils!!!!” followed by suggestions on where he should go. Just boos. Amusing, rather jovial boos, and we all delighted to get into the spirit by joining in. The crowd followed Joseph and Mary around The Plaza as they repeatedly asked for lodging, met by still more devils who had just popped out of a rooftop window to tell Mary and Joseph to move on. Eventually, they made it to The Place of the Governors where they were allowed to enter the courtyard. The crowd cheered and everyone was invited into the courtyard for bonfires and carols and cookies and cider. The courtyard was glowing from the warm golden light of the bonfires as we listened to the carols. It was pure Santa Fe magic!

The magical lighting begins to glow

But it was only the beginning. So many concerts and choirs and celebrations continued throughout the season. Christmas Eve was absolutely amazing. Recently, I saw what I thought was an incredible move by Emilio Estevez called “The Way.” For those who haven’t seen it, all I can say is that I’m sorry you missed it on the big screen, as the cinematography was amazingly beautiful and the last scenes impressive beyond words. But the video will still be impressive as the story is a simple and beautiful one about pain, friendship, spirituality and healing. The story is about a father whose son was killed on a pilgrimage on El Camino de Santiago, known as “The Way of Saint James.” The father heads to France to pick up his son’s remains, and then makes a decision to finish the journey in his son’s name.

I’m sure you’re wondering why I brought this up. And that takes me to another event in Santa Fe which happens on Christmas Eve. It is the Farolito Walk on Canyon Road. On this night, thousands of farolitos (small brown paper bags filled with sand and a candle) are placed along walks, rooftops, and ledges. We arrived early while it was still light. Some of the bags had already been lit, but it was too early and there was too much light to see the glow. We walked to the end of the trail, and since we had another appointment that night, headed back towards town as the sun was setting and the crowds were arriving to begin their walk. As we headed downhill towards town, night fell, and the thousands of illuminated bags worked their magic. It reminded me so much of “The Way,” in that people arrived and so quietly walked the road surrounded by the glow of thousands of candles in golden colored bags and bonfires which were lit as the night fell. The crowds were quiet, transfixed by the beauty of the candlelight, taking in the spiritual vibrations of the evening. Hundreds of people, children, elderly supported by loved ones, tourists, locals, people of all kinds, walking The farolito-lit “Way,” enjoying the glow in an almost meditative state. You could really not experience this in any manner other than quiet meditation. It was that impressive!

I have been thinking a lot lately about this move to New Mexico. I have some dear friends who have recently experienced losses and are having some of the difficulties of adjustments over the holidays this year. But I have told them about my philosophy of life— how change is a necessary part of our journey as spiritual beings. We have taken a huge leap to move across the country into a land so different from where we grew up. In all honesty, I never had a doubt in my mind that this was the right move at the right time. My husband is a bit more traditional than I and I think he had initial doubts. But out of love, he trusted my instincts, and we moved on. Thankfully, he has long ago agreed that this was the best thing we’ve ever done.

What I believe is that life is divided into two parts. The first half is earthly and physical. That is the period when people enjoy all the pleasures of the flesh, the raising of families, the dulling of the mind by outside sources. In excess, this can become an addiction, a vice. But it is a part of life. The second half (if we are lucky enough to have another “half”) is the spiritual journey. Or at least it should be, considering time is officially running out now! This half is our “Way of St. James.” And we can experience it any way we choose. I have made an official move, a break from all I’ve known, because the land here spoke to me and beckoned me to come to it. It is an ancient land which gives its own vibrations of the people who lived here and took their own spiritual journeys though life. Perhaps their journeys were taken in a more simple fashion than those of us who lived our lives on the East Coast. Seduction by the physical and the earthly were more our way of life in the East. Life is harsh in the desert, but it is simple. There are no distractions in “The Vast.” The blazing sun puts the earth to rest. Rain, when it comes gives it life once more. And the quiet soothes all the meaningless noise in our heads and gives focus to the more important sounds.

At a certain point in our lives, we feel a pull to another plane, another dimension. It is always present, but often ignored. Old habits are hard to break. But for those who follow the pull, we find ourselves surrounded by those of like minds. Sometimes those around us are meant to guide us, sometimes, we are the ones who were meant to guide. But there is no doubt that once we set forth on the second part of the journey, The Path will be presented, and those who are on it are meant to be with us as we travel. There are no accidents in life.

I feel blessed to have been pulled to a place as exquisite as New Mexico. On the records, it is considered to be one of our poorest states. But “the records” don’t record things of the most importance. In a harsh land, survival breaks down to simplicity. And in simplicity, people gravitate to importance for survival. And survival has always centered on spirituality. Drawn to The Spirit that guides. It is no accident that the desert and the harshest of lands have inspired spirituality and focus on The Creator. New Mexico is, in fact, one of the richest states in our Nation.

December 14, 2011

Well, it’s that magical time of the year in Santa Fe. Come to think of it, every time of the year is magical in Santa Fe. So far, every season I experience here is better than the last one! If you’re going to celebrate Christmas, this is the place! I have been to dozens of Christmas celebrations—and I am talking true meaning of Christmas celebrations—not the old “Ho! Ho! Ho!” by Santa on a fire truck as he opened the shopping malls on Black Friday celebrations that I was familiar with from back East.

More about the celebrations later. First I have to talk about my first tree experience in Santa Fe. Call me cheap, but I have always set a price limit on my tree at, probably unrealistic to most, $20. Yes, I know, what could you possibly get for $20? After you talk to Charlie Brown, talk to me. Charlie and I have a lot in common. I don’t mind adding a little love to get a not-so-perfect tree into top Christmas form, at least in my world.

Back East, it really wasn’t so absurd to ask for a $20 tree, as home centers usually carried some at $19. Granted, maybe they weren’t the best of trees, nor the freshest. I swear Lowe’s spray painted theirs green one year to disguise the fact that the trees were more brown than green when they arrived after being cut months before. But they did exist for people like me who could never quite justify the thoughts of paying $40 or $50 for a tree. Fast forward to my first venture into the tree shops in Santa Fe… Imagine my surprise when I found the base price of a 4 or 5 foot tree was $49!!!!! One tree stand where I stopped in a sort of out of the way place which I thought might have a few bargains, almost gave me the big one right then and there. $79!!!!!! C’mon folks! I’ve seen the forests in New Mexico, and I know they thin them out constantly. They didn’t have to fly them across country, so what’s the deal here? Or WHERE’S the deal here, I should say!

For three weeks now I have been on a quest to find a decent tree for a price that wouldn’t make me pass out on sight. Then one magical day last week, I hit the jackpot. A friend of mine from back East was visiting, and as we were heading home in a snowstorm, we passed a roadside stopping area where many items such as firewood, wood carvings, peppers, and today—-TA-DAAAA!!!!—CHRISTMAS TREES were being sold from the backs of trucks. By now I was pretty convinced that I was going to have to bite the bullet and pay the price if I wanted a real tree, but what could it hurt to ask one more time.

The man selling the trees really didn’t have much of selection, and as we pulled up I wasn’t very impressed with the trees, but I got out and decided to at least ask. A bargain’s a bargain, and Charlie and I had plenty of transforming love for the right price. I gasped out loud when he, too, started at $59. I immediately turned to get back into my car, when he shouted the words I longed to hear– we could make a deal. I walked back to see what he had to offer. On closer inspection, I had never seen a more pitiful group of trees. These would have made even Charlie Brown cry! His revised price was $39, but there was no way these trees were worth that. They were all about 5 feet tall except for one very tall, thin one at the end of the row. That was the only one that didn’t look like it had such a bad shape, but I didn’t dare ask the price of it when the pathetic short ones were being offered at $39!

I couldn’t help but notice immediately that the tree he was holding, which was now down to $29 by the way, had no branches in the back. And I really mean NO branches in the back, which was the case in all the pathetic looking trees surrounding it. I commented on that fact, and he immediately ran to the tree, placed himself IN the bare spot as he held it, and tried to convince me that it was just fine. Now I will admit, I am not always the sharpest knife in the drawer, but I do know the difference between tree branches and a man’s body.

I repeated firmly that there were NO branches on the back, as he pressed his body closer against the trunk thinking I wouldn’t notice the lack of branches. As I tried to walk around the tree to make my point clear, he moved with the tree and rotated it and himself so I could never actually reach the bare spot. It was then that I noticed my friend who was still in the car was laughing hysterically as she observed his tree dance, unable to hear the dialogue. All the while that he rotated himself and the tree, he was trying to convince me that it was just my imagination. This tree really was full and luxurious as he continued to point out. In frustration, I repeated for the 5th time, “THERE ARE NO BRANCHES ON THE BACK OF THIS TREE!” At this point, his brilliance in sales stunned me beyond words. He began grabbing the branches from the front and pulling them into the bare spot like a Donald Trump comb-over as he explained that they were there, they were merely flattened a tiny bit because he had brought the trees by truck. At this point, I just started laughing out loud, said no thank you, and started back to my car.

Not to be deterred, he shouted, “I have more trees, $25!” I turned as he had run to the end of the row of trees and was holding one up as he spun it around, proudly showing me that it did, in fact, have branches on ALL sides. I went over for a closer look. My jaw dropped as I saw that the tree was completely brown. I mean COMPLETELY! With needles falling to the ground as we spoke! I calmly said, “Did you cut this one down in June? It is totally dead.” Ready for this one?!? I know I wasn’t…. He calmly replied, “Oh, no, Miss! This tree isn’t dead. It’s a red pine. It’s supposed to be this color!” After a few seconds pause as I wondered if I had really heard that, I broke into laughter. I sensed that he, too, was choking back a chuckle. I thanked him for his time, and started back to my car. Here it comes…. He shouted in final desperation, “Any tree here, $15!” I asked if that included the big one, and he shouted, “Yes, ANY tree!” I opened the back of the car, pulled out my $15, and he shoved the tree into the car, God only knows how but before I could find fault with it, and wished me a Merry Christmas.

My First Tree

Since it was snowing harder now, I hadn’t really seen the tree up close as he had pushed it quickly into the car. It was so large, the trunk of the car flapped as I carried it home. Thankfully, it was a short ride. When I got it home, I was absolutely amazed at the size. It is at least 16 feet high! Granted, it doesn’t have a perfect shape, and it is a bit slim, but I LOVE my tree! It is a wonderful tree! It is a huge tree! Even on the top of the ladder, I needed to put a nail into a long pole to lift the ornaments to the top branches. It took me an entire day to decorate it. My first Santa Fe bargain tree is just magnificent and as magical as Santa Fe itself. As I look at my tree, twinkling against the backdrop of today’s snowfall, I am happy. Aside from wishing all my family and friends could be here, I think this will be the best Christmas ever! Merry Christmas, everyone!

October 7, 2011

8:00 AM: Today began as usual—-an invigorating walk on the trails with Bob, a friend, and our dogs in the lead followed by coffee and the start of a new day of adventures in Santa Fe. I was now planning a relaxing day in the studio working on remodeling my yucky old kitchen. Then Bob had to ruin it all by reminding me I had set today as the day I would try yet again to acquire my New Mexico driver’s license. Mind you, this was not my first attempt. My quest began over a week ago, when, at the suggestion of my hiking buddy, I went off to find the “Express License” place. Here, for a ridiculously high fee, you could supposedly receive your license in a matter of hours instead of days. I had been warned by everyone else who attempted this process would be the time spent in the waiting room, and it was well worth the cost. My friend said I needed 2 forms of proof of residence, i.e. bills addressed to my new address, plus my old driver’s license. Gathering all of those items together, I headed off in search of a quick and easy method to become a legal resident of New Mexico. Unfortunately, the state of New Mexico had another plan.

As I went up to register, take my number, and join the 50 + people falling asleep on their chairs as they waited for their numbers to be called, something inside me told me I’d better ask a few questions before I sat down. I inquired as to whether or not the information I had brought would be enough to obtain my license. Thank God for that little voice nagging me to ask! I was informed that I need my social security card to go any further. Say WHAT????? Last time I saw that baby was when I got it, and we aren’t even going to mention how many years ago I was 18! The clerk told me I could head off to the Social Security Office and request a new one. She also told me I could, if I wanted, go directly to the Division of Motor Vehicles which was nearby and obtain my license there if I didn’t mind waiting longer. This just didn’t seem right! Not being one foolish enough to argue with the system, I left my number on the counter and headed out past the dozing people in the waiting room.

Foolishly, I wondered if there were a chance that this was just an “Express Service” policy and perhaps they would be more logical about it in the actually Motor Vehicles Office. I asked a passerby for directions and headed off to check as long as I was in the neighborhood. Walking boldly into the office, I asked the receptionist if this were the place where I could obtain a license and register my car. She informed me that this needed to be done at their main office (not sure what this one was as they had a wall of license plates on view), which was, of course, across town. I asked her if it were true that I needed a long gone Social Security Card for the process, or if perhaps an official document, like my passport for example, might do the job. She said that the passport would be fine, plus two bills with my new address no older than 30 days. I sighed and asked her if it were also true that I would be sitting in the office for 3 days waiting my turn and she chuckled and said “not in our new office!” I realized at that point that over 2 hours had passed since I set out for my license, and that I really had had about enough for one day. I promised myself I’d collect everything and try again the following week. Which brings me up to the present…

9:00 AM: I had spent a considerable amount of time collecting a pile of documents as directed, plus the title to my car, and I headed way across town to the new office. Hope springs eternal. I honestly thought by this time tonight I would, in fact, have a new gorgeous, brightly colored turquoise and yellow plate (truth be told, the REAL reason I wanted the new license) and a driver’s license with my real address so I could take advantage of resident discounts all around town. For a moment I contemplated whether or not to pack a lunch, but decided to take a few books along to occupy my time and hope for the best.

9:30 AM: I knew I was in trouble when I walked in and didn’t see any place at all to collect my number. I asked one of the many people (also dozing) in the room where I would obtain one, and the gentleman pointed to a sign behind me which read “ister to te here.” Made a lot of sense to me to hide the signs behind a post! Oh, well! Chalk it off to government! I obediently took my number and headed back into the waiting room full of bored people of all ages. In a surprisingly short amount of time, my number was called and I headed happily to my assigned clerk. She looked over my documents and my passport and shook her head. “Sorry, but we need your Social Security Card.” I explained that I had been informed by their main office in town that a passport would be fine considering they wouldn’t have given it to me without a valid Social Security ID, but she said insistently, “The Bureau of Motor Vehicles requires a Social Security Card. Passports are useless.” She added that I could go and apply for a new card and come back when I had it. I knew I was beat, but that little voice nagged me again, and I asked her if she might be so kind as to check all my other documents so I wouldn’t have to make another trip following the next one.

Graciously, she looked them over and said she was sorry to tell me, but “credit card bills with your new address are not acceptable” and handed me a page of requirements which she circled in yellow to be sure I understood. They had to be bank statements or utility bills dated within 30 days, and my name had to be on them. I informed her that my husband’s name was on the utility bills, and then came the good one—- I’d need to bring in my MARRIAGE license as proof that the utility bills were going to my residence. I about lost it on that one! I told her I hadn’t seen my marriage license since I got married and she laughed and gave me the line we all love to hear, “I don’t make the rules, I just have to follow them.” Oh, and by the way, she added that “they couldn’t accept my PA car insurance since PA had lower minimum coverage requirements than NM did,” and if I could get a print out from my insurance company that proved I met their requirements, I could at least have my car registered in NM and obtain my cool turquoise and yellow license plate. Heavy sighs out of the way, I left once again to try to fulfill my paperwork requirements.

11:10 AM: I headed home to check one last file box I remembered I had for the missing Social Security Card to spare myself one more hour of waiting for my number to be called in yet another office. To my absolute amazement, I found not only the Social Security Card, but my marriage license! I was so proud of myself that a new surge of determination to get it all done NOW filled my veins, and I grabbed a utility bill from Bob’s office, my stack of papers and identification documents, and headed back across town for another attempt to become a legal resident. On the way, I stopped by the car insurance office and got a print out of my coverage from a sympathetic clerk who had had the same experience when he moved from Alaska a few years ago. He wished me Godspeed and off I went.

12:55 PM: As luck would have it, I actually got the same woman as the first time, despite the fact that there were 16 lines open for business. At least I was spared the up to date explanation on why I was back for now a 4th attempt to get my license. The woman checked my papers, and the old head shake followed as my hopes were thrashed yet again. “This Social Security Card has your maiden name on it. It must agree with your current hyphenated married name.” She followed with the dreaded directions to the Social Security Office. However, she said I COULD get my license plate since I now met all their requirements, but I should be sure not to come back until Monday for my driver’s license, since it would take 24 hours to update the system once my Social Security Card was updated. Thrilled at the prospect of getting at least something done after an entire day of travelling back and forth, I sat down and waited for my number to be called yet again, so that I might speak to the clerk who would check my car in person, as their fees are based on the Blue Book value of your vehicle.

1:40 PM: A while later, I met with yet another representative, the vehicle registration lady, who chatted cordially about Pennsylvania, since she too had been born there. I told her I now had enough documents to apply for top clearance if I wanted that job at Los Alamos lab, and she admitted that NM did have rather complicated requirements for a driver’s license. I told her I needed to go back for an updated Social Security Card and she pointed out that “all these new rules were due to the National Security requirements.” She didn’t offer any further comment when I (I thought) logically pointed out that since I had a recently reissued passport with my hyphenated married name on it in hand, I would have thought that Homeland Security might have checked up on me already.

2:05 PM: Off we went out to evaluate my car. The clerk informed me that she also had to check the mileage, which I pointed out had been considerably lower before I started the process of trying to get a license. Silence followed that comment as well. A few more rounds with her computer back inside, and she presented me with the prize—my new brightly colored, turquoise and yellow license plate which proudly tells the world I am from “The Land of Enchantment!” Not my old company name vanity plate however, which I had in Pennsylvania, but a standard issued one which was fine enough after so many hours of hard work. To receive my old plate name I needed to pay another $17, but hopefully it will arrive in 6-8 weeks when it is stamped out. God knows I have developed a new line of patience so far!

2:45 PM: Next was the dreaded trip to the Social Security Bureau. In all honesty, it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. The clerk there was pleasant, the wait short (everyone had gone home to enjoy the weekend by now!) and since he had a good sense of humor and offered lots of sympathy which God knows I need at that point, I was happy. He gave me the paperwork with the updated married name and told me to go back for my license. By this time, it was almost quitting time, and I was not about to try and bend the “wait 24 hours until you’re in the system rule” which I had been told to do back at the Motor Vehicles Division, despite his telling me the paper he gave me was proof enough. I learned my lesson and wasn’t falling for that one again!

4:05 PM: And so, as the sun set slowly in the West, I returned home, proudly carrying my new brightly colored turquoise and yellow plate, which will be placed on my car as soon as possible. Halfway done! Wish me the best with Phase 2 on Monday. I’m sure it will be worthy of yet another blog!