Unplugged

I wrote this a few weeks ago, and have been brewing it in expectation of posting it here.

Fireside lounging mama

Living in Baja Sur, Mexico, I have reached a level of unplugged-ness I never expected.

Truly, for weeks now, I have done the bare minimum of making my way to our local public wireless access (usually because I'm going by there anyway; rarely as a trip in itself), waiting the minutes it takes to download my emails (and a few select blogs and websites now and again), and then I'm away to other parts of my day. I don't even do this daily. At most, I reply to pressing emails. Oftentimes via concise (ha - as concise as I get, that is!) text message. For instance, yesterday I had a rare several hours to myself. In my old life I would've dashed immediately to the computer and easily spent those hours in front of the screen. Yesterday? I couldn't wait to turn on some mama music and mulch the kitchen garden with the bails of straw that we had finally procured. I didn't even think of opening the computer, not even to play music; I used my phone for that.

What else have I been doing with all this time that, for years, I spent plugged in?

~I've been studying the sunset each evening

~Peeing in the wee hours of the night with nothing but the light of the moon and my moonshadow as companions

~Therapeutically and often dunking myself in the invigorating water of our mama ocean

~I've been listening to bats squeak in the roof of our palapa kitchen

~Planting seeds and watering gardens

~Chomping nasturtium flowers that I pick from the walls of my shower

~Getting to know the species of birds at the shore

~Witnessing rows of garden greens disappear by the day, probably to a rabbit

~Being serenaded by duets of owls

~Watching as the tops of my bare feet get very tan

~And feeling with the soles of those bare feet as the earth gets warmer with the progression of the season

~Drinking a lot less coffee

~Embracing Siesta.

This post is dedicated to the pelican friend we encountered on the beach with an irreparably broken wing.

If you'd like to read more about what we've been up to here at Lumbini Gardens in Baja California Sur, Mexico, check out my recent newsletter at La Vida Lumbini.