The Joshua Tree Casita
Sometimes when you’re ready to face your fears, to go into the darkness, that is when life decides to show you the light.
Laying in the hammock at the casita, in the desert sun, I ask myself how can we heal the planet from what we’ve done? Trump had just been elected the new President of the United States of America the night before. A reality pop star is literally the new president of the USA. How do we come back from this?
My husband sees me over-analyzing these things, as I do, and says to me: you look so pretty in your human predicament. I write this in the sand at my feet, and two lizards suddenly dash out from the bushes, stop and stare at me. I suppose that is what this is. We are spiritual beings having a human experience.
It is truly amazing that anything can survive in the Mojave Desert. Everything is so dry, yet at the tip of even the deadest trees, brilliantly crimson buds flower from the branches that reach out to the bluest sky.
In processing the news of the election and what this might mean for America and the world as a whole, I realize how important it is to show more love to one another, to give the best we have in each available moment. We need love and compassion more than ever before.
Despite the weight of it all, we lay together in the hammock and laugh. The sun is glorious, it is the golden hour. The earth is still alive, we are still here.
As the sun starts to set, we take our wine and hike up to the top of the hill covered in boulders, overlooking the desert, the Joshua Trees. There is a warm breeze and I am in only a bikini top and shorts. The land is aglow.
The sky turns pink as the sun dips behind the mountains. Then purple, grey, orange. There goes our ball of fire, our everything.