The Magic Hour

by

Or should I say hours?

Matt Williams and I had an unexpected hang out in the Mission Monday afternoon together.

I have officially had my first guest here at Casa Marquez.  Matt Wuischpard and Alex and Shannon Smith Bernardin have also been over, but it was all when I was moving.

Mister Williams got to be my first guest–and he was a surprise.

It was a lovely surprise.

I woke up this morning and I was filled with fear.  Fear, fear, fear.

DOOM.

You will never have enough money, you are crazy to be thinking of traveling, are you out of your mind?  There is not a career in this, no one wants to hear about your travels.  You are bad and stupid and naive.

Well fuck you very much.

Fortunately I have done a lot of work and I know that when the fear factory is cranking out its top 40 Fuck You all time hits, that I have choice in what I do next.

I can sit in the fear and listen to the manufacture of misery.

Or.

I can take action.  Any action.  I am my actions, not my thoughts.  In fact, as I explained to some one just yesterday, I am further, not responsible for my thoughts, and when they happen, which they do, I am not compelled to believe them or react to them or listen to them.

That is crazy making.

What I do then is direct my attention to what is exactly, and I do mean exactly in front of me.

Do I need to go to the bathroom?  Do I need to shower?  Do I need to write?  Do I need food to eat?  What is that wee little bit that I can do so that I get out of my own way.  Because when I am thinking, then I am in my own way.

This crazy idea went through my head today, whilst I was trying to focus on the next action in front of me–what about that guy that came into the shop and has a crush on me and has a house in Panama, let’s use that!

Shaddup.

I am not using sex to get what I want.  I am not even going to let the guy know that I am going to be traveling.  I don’t need to resort to old ideas.

I chuckled to myself, said, “thanks for sharing to my head,” and went about my morning.

I had slept in.  I was exhausted from yesterday.  I gave a lot of myself to do that photography workshop and I also really put it out to the universe and a few of my close friends what I want to do.  I rather took the starch out of me.

I went to bed a half hour earlier than normal and slept an hour and a half beyond my normal wake up call.  Thus, the fear factory had some time to produce before I got up and about my day.

I sat.  I wrote.  I meditated.  I had a little heart to heart with the powers that be and it was decided that the next action in front of me had to be really little.

My timer went off on my phone signifying that my ten minute meditation was up and as I picked it up to swipe it off, the world clock option popped up.

Oh.

Hey there.

Look at that.  I set the world clock on my phone for New York, Paris, San Francisco, and Sao Paulo–just imagine the time zones I will get to travel through!

That felt awesome, perked me right up.  Then I down loaded Instagram.  I have yet to use it, but it’s there.

After that, I gathered my messenger bag and got my bike and I headed out the door to Rainbow.  I needed groceries.  I got good bike parking and loaded up my shopping basket with all sorts of healthy yummy, pretty food.

I always eat better when my food looks attractive.  I splurged on organic strawberries, and got a ripe cantaloupe, red pears, fresh coffee, ginger tea, Easter Egg radishes, to name a few things.  I almost got too much and struggled to get it all in my bag.  It was heavy and unwieldy and was the main reason I did not stop when I heard my name hollered out as I rode down Folsom back to the hacienda.

“CARMEN!”

Some one yelled at me.  But I did not stop.  I was wobbly and I also needed lunch.  Lunch, lunch, lunch, a little mantra in my head.  If it’s some one I am supposed to see I will see them, take care of yourself, get home, put away the groceries, make lunch.

I had a message.

It was Matt!

I called right back and he came over.  We had tea, we sat on the back porch.  We talked about where we are in our lives.  I had lunch and made Matt eat some of the strawberries and cantaloupe–it was too divine to keep to myself.

We sat in the sunshine and talked and talked and talked.

I am filled up.  I got to share about my travel plans and I got to listen to what he is doing, which was great to hear and very much along the same path as I am in regards to following your dreams and what makes you happy.

He looked at me and said, “you’re going to do this!”

I nodded.  Yup.  I am.

And he told me how he has watched me manifest things–jobs, apartments, travel–he was in the Artist Way group that I was in for a year and a half–and he reminded me of everything that I have done.  The Aids Ride.  Losing weight, getting healthier, moving back to the Mission, working at the bike shop.

Then this, this traveling.  He said he could see it happening.  I described my idea about the Kickstarter funding and I told him about postcards and stickers and journals and where I want to go and not knowing and going anyway.

He said that I lit up, that I glowed, that I was incredibly creative and he could see it.

Because I have done it before.

I took photographs of my friend, of the back porch, of the sky.  I may not have captured the essence of the afternoon, but the magic hour was experienced.

I was re-affirmed, brightened, right sized, and I got re-committed to walk through the fear.  I re-established myself and yes, I was happy.

Then I went and walked and took some more photographs.

Matt

Matt Williams

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