Gaudi and the ever ascending light

The plan was to leave Barcelona the morning of the 31st so as to start the Camino on April Fools.

As it happens, I find myself wondering about dance clubs and tight pants and beautiful architecture, both of the soul and stone...and the stay is extended a day when Pau says, "I think you should leave on Sunday so you can at least have a day in Barcelona." Vale. No arm twisting required.

In the morning Pau walks me to Elizabet´s flat where she graciously practices her new Thai massage skills and then trots me over to inquire after a phone to use while in Spain. Charmingly, the shops are all cerrado, closed for siesta. She is apologetic, but I am delighted. A country where, despite 20 % unemployment, people still stop to eat, relax, and hopefully not loose sight of the value in a more leisurely pace.

And now, here I stand, on el Passeo de Gracia, avenue of Gaudi´s Casa Mila´and Casa Batllo´...and oh sweet visual heaven...they are glorious. This man and his obsession with curvatures and colors is quickly carving out his own space in my imagination. I can´t remember when the last time was that I literally gawked at a building, but here I am, the blissful tourist, staring up at the facade of Casa Batllo´thinking, "Bones! He made supporting columns look like bones!...how fabulous." There are poems and films and effusions to be created as I have time to savor this man´s unique aesthetic...how inspired he was by nature and the divine, pues, it´s breath-taking, as you can see by this photo of the interior of Sagrada Familia.

It was designed to evoke a forest and its white canopy and arching trunks are punctuated by radiant stained glass that floods the floors with expiation via color. All is light. All is growing towards the ether in one aching spiral of white stone. This is a visual heaven on earth and I have no need to reach for another salvation.

On Phones and Terrorists and Artists

This man is neither phone nor terrorist. He is an artist named Pau who is also my host in Barcelona and is doing his first writer-painter book on Gaudi. Meaning, he is writing it AND doing all the artwork. It is very impressive.

The phone/terrorist thing is our morning adventure which starts with us going to a local corner store/internet cafe to get a SIM card for his old phone so I can call friends and family from Espana.

We get there, the guy is multi-tasking to beat the band...he takes my passport to get the details switched over to the new sim card, all the while answering two phones, taking money from customers, finding a charger for Pau´s phone and placing fast food orders.

He calmly announces that the sim card won´t work and that we´d be better off going to a mobile store and getting a cheap phone. But not today because today is, that´s right!, STRIKE day!

We see the piccetas tossing over dumpsters and hollering phrases that probably mean, "Down with the man" as I eat my fruit salad on Pau´s balcony. The helicopters are hovering in the air above the central meeting place, and the world keeps turning.

Imagine having people in the US who made it their job to check in on the solidarity of the strike efforts...to the tune of harassing shop keepers to close etc. Most of the shops are closed, but some have pulled their covers down half way to show sympathy if not total support.

Anyhow, point is, multi-tasking dude now has my passport info so if I get stuck in Amsterdam under suspicion for being part of some terrorist cell. This is why.

Planes go kaput and we go on strike!

In Amsterdam, after puking up my guts due to 9 hours of intense pressure on my tenuous sinuses and the ensuing vertigo that followed, I am sitting on a plane bound for Barcelona next to a hot Dutch man, and desperately trying not to toss my cookies again.

Now, the puking doesn´t bother me so much, in fact, it´s rather nostalgic. What DOES bother me though, is that I might get pieces of whatever it was I last ate on some stranger.

Then, over the loudspeaker, rich with sprekens and schlassy sounding words, the flight attendant announces that one of the important parts of the wings is not functioning and we´ll have to sit tight for a minute. Or 30.



All of a sudden, we´re being transferred to a new plane...no wait, they can´t get the door open on the people mover!...we´re running to the new terminal!...hold on, we´re waiting for the crew to get here!...

This is all well and good. But my good pal Pau is waiting for me in Barcelona and I´m pretty sure he´s got things to do. Nothing to do though except finally cave to the Tylenol PM stashed in my pocket and pray it helps the sinuses this time so I can arrive freshly un-vomity.

Heh. An hour in, they deliver sandwhiches and I run to the lav to heave the last vestiges of nutrition out of my guts. But like I said, I don´t mind this. I´m just glad for a cool surface to lay my head on. And come on, I mean, this is the stuff that LEGENDARY travel stories are made of, so even though I might die from dehydration due to puking, it´s going to be memorable.


I finally arrive in Barcelona several hours behind schedule and Pau is waiting for me, bless his frantic little heart. He drives me through the sunny streets of Barcelona, telling me that one of our activities for tomorrow will be to go on strike against the unions!

His flat is crammed full of sketches for his new book, a piano and a FLAMENCO GUITAR. (ok, we knew i might never come back....who would want to, from something like THIS!_!)

And now, here I sit, plinking away on his Mac as he has to teach his English classes, trying to decipher which combination of keys will allow me to access the @ symbol (got it) on a Spanish keyboard.

Life is starting to get the rocky goodness back in it...or it might be jet lag. Either way, it´s rising and falling like no one´s business and I wouldn´t have it any other way. Now for a quick shower, nap, and photo expedition.

Sinking Into Phoenix Mode

Tomorrow is the last day in Portland before I leave to Spain.

I have a to do list, which I have just discovered includes finding a veterinarian to put down my best dog on this earth, Frawley Lumpkins.

For 14 years Frawley has been a source of light and healing to everyone he has wagged at. He literally spooned me in his paws when I returned exhausted and lost from a traumatizing trip to Bangkok in my early 20's. He showed me what it is to take life as it comes with a smile and a willing spirit.

The day before an adventure and challenge of a lifetime begins, I am going to be holding space for one of my best friends to journey into the eternal Land of Steak and Bread.

I watch him breathe and dream and try to imagine him free of crippling arthritis and aching bones. Will and I place our hands on him and send Reiki and blessings to him into the night. Be at peace dear traveller, you have done everything you need to do for us. Run free. It is alright to move over the threshold.

I said I wanted life raw and full. That I wanted the spectrum and proof that the universe is indeed colluding to bring about the dreams of one's heart. This has a place at the table. To have the opportunity to witness transition and stand in the flow of change with the heart open and the arms wide.

If the last gift I can give this companion is an easy and loving passage, I will do the best I can. Even though I miss him already, surely he will not entirely leave.

As Will said, "Maybe this is the way he can walk the trail with you."

My spirit guide dog.

It rises and falls

5 days until I leap on a plane headed for Spain. 5 days to make final preparations and start really BELIEVING that the actual TRIP portion of this project is going to happen....my time up to this point has been so focused on making sure that I deliver on what I offered to Make A Wish that the excitement around the journey has been waiting for its turn to surface :) I suppose really, it's all wrapped up together.

Yesterday I was flipping through elevation maps for day 1 from St. Jean to Roncesvalles and realized that if I go the high route, it's about a 4200ft elevation gain over 8 miles or so. That's like climbing Mt. Hood starting from Timberline...I must confess, I got somewhat breathless at the thought of beginning with such a demanding climb...but then, this seems to be an apt metaphor for how life can come at you. There's not always a lot of opportunity to prepare yourself before facing some daunting challenges.

My plan is to put one foot in front of the other and remember my rallying cry, "Ultreya!" . Courage. Onward! Stay the course.

Up or down, mountain or valley, I am coming to surrender and accept what my body and spirit are made of. To know more fully and to drink it all in.

It comes around

A small media tornado is building around this trip. Already articles in The Oregonian have come out, radio appearances have been made, television is in the future next week, and yesterday a piece came out in the Oregon City News. (links included to the news articles below).

In the process of reaching out to contacts and being keen to tell the story of Make-A-Wish and the power of dreams, a moment arose early this morning, to clearly see how the ripple effect of living one's dream splashes against people you may never meet.

A reader of the Oregon City News posted at the end of the article:

http://www.clackamasreview.com/news/story.php?story_id=133167418336721500

I was at the State Fair in the grand stands when Ms. Mathis was presented with the mare. I was a sophomore in high school at the time and I've never forgotten it. I was so deeply moved by this little girl and my heart broke that day from the kindness of the Make A Wish foundation and the people that donated the mare. As a lifelong horse addict, I understand fully the special bond between a horse and her girl. I believe there wasn't a dry eye in the whole stadium. Even my riding instructor was dabbing her eyes, and I never thought she had emotion!

I'm so happy to see that Ms. Mathis is alive and well. She is an inspiration and I wish her nothing but the very best in her life. May her life continue to be filled with special moments and may her endeavors be filled with meaning and accomplishments!

The gratitude I have to all the people who are helping me tell this story and are supporting this cause, is boundless. The fact that a stranger has opened their heart to tell their story about how this impacted their life, is pure magic.

This circle is getting bigger and wider all the time. Dare I hope that one day, it may include me actually working at Make-A-Wish? A girl can dream...!

http://www.oregonlive.com/living/index.ssf/2012/02/taking_steps_to_improve_the_wo.html