"Dadme La Muerte Que me Falta"

This place. Oh this wild abandon of a place of the misfits, mermaids, and the medicine. Baja just wouldn’t let me go. From bones in the desert to the skeleton woman which is me in the bottom of the sea I found..“dadme la muerte que me falta”.

Mystic Mexican poet, Rosario Castellanos is quoted “dadme la muerte que me falta” which translates to “Give me the death I need”.

Remember my bat post..and how they signify “death”. I was already in that mode of letting go and surrendering of the old, the fear, the ego, but I had more rites of passage to go here.Three months living off grid outside of Todos Santos I had enjoyed the sun, plant life, and sea but also faced many challenges like water/ power struggles, Land Rover issues and worst of all the loss of my beloved husky soul mate.

I was done w/ the desert!  It’s funny how removed from death we are back in the states, unless maybe caring for a loved one who is sick. I was shocked when after seeing the vet when I was left w/ the corpse of my dead dog to bury. My local friend Felipe, said “We have to bury him when the Sun rises in the AM and I will help you.” I was in shock. Thanks to this friend. I could not have managed the task alone.  There was something special about laying his body to rest w/ my own blood, sweat, and tears. Then I collected desert plants, flowers and my favorite seashells to offer his spirit while it was passing through the cosmos. I spent many more nights here and my bedroom faced the desert space where he was buried. It was also tucked in by the sea. I cried. And cried and wished I could somehow meet him in another realm again. It was a bit of a coincidence that I was re-reading “Women Who Run With Wolves” by Clarissa Pinkerton-Estes.

I really resonated with the quote, "We all begin as a bundle of bones somewhere in the desert."

I was so done that I packed up my car to head back to Oregon not even sure if I had the gas or money to make it. I was also, scared to drive the Baja peninsula stretch of 1000 miles alone in an unreliable car. I justed wanted to get back to Oregon and started my journey on Jan. 31, 2017.

I blazed through the desert as I drove listening to good tunes. Tom Freund was a musician passing through Todos Santos and gave me his CD in trade for an essential oil book. I blasted his tracks “Queen of the Desert and “Copper Moon” as I embraced the beauty of the landscape one last time while crying over missing my wild, soft husky friend.

I knew better to drive at night but got a bit stuck in the mountains after dark while thinking I could make it from Loreto to Mulege. The moon was a silver crescent in the sky and Venus, Mars, and Jupiter were conjunct like the beauty mark’s of the Moon.

When I finally pulled into Mulege I was enchanted by the vintage charm of the town. There was a certain vibe of romance which I can’t describe besides a bit of magic. I circled around looking for a motel and a decent place for food. My vegetarianism is a challenge here. I was instantly lured by a small archway that seemed to be filled w/ botanicals and tropical plants, called Las Casitas. I parked the vehicle, and decided this was the place for the night. After writing a farewell post to Baja on social media which was also a heads up to my friends and people back north that I was making my way back I grabbed a bite of food in the lobby.

There are little steps that add up to be a certain turning point where our coarse completely changes. A compass gone wild, and the sails shift. I had wondered why I was going back to the freezing, cold and rain in Portland. I had wondered why I was so eager to reunite w/ my daughter who was so cruel on the phone every time I tried to speak w/ her. The prices of rent in Portland are insane. Then there is all the turmoil w/ Trump and an angry nation. I had been fed up for so long..I didn’t really know what the fuck I was doing at all besides besides eating a quesadilla, but I was about to find “La luz de la vida”.

This translates to “the light of life”. This is when a  beautiful man walked up to me and we chatted for a moment. He asked me to meet him in the AM to watch the sunrise..and he looked for a napkin to write his phone number. He said he liked to be old school and actually write it down. My phone didn’t work and What's app failed so even though I thought I might do something out of the ordinary I knew I should hit the road and catch the first light of day for my next day 2 of 5 of driving. Oh well. Maybe in another life.

The next morning even before my alarm went off I rushed up to get my little dog Hooj outside to pee. I was tired, half asleep, and unknowingly had started bleeding in the middle of the night. I was a bit of a hot mess.. To my surprise I opened my motel room door there was my new friend waiting for me to awake for our sunrise date.

Long story short I am now on day 11 of this place so our meeting went well. Losing my ATM card (a little nudge from the universe also came into play). The Sea of Cortez may as well be called the Sea of Love. It is full of life. Mermaids are not myth here. There are seashells that I have only dreamed about that fill the shore. The colors of the sky are those of the softest pastels. I am living on a houseboat w/ my new friend and the circle windows are my favorite feature of the boat. The morning light glows pink. There is a lighthouse in the distance. The locals are lost angels. We make fires each night and write songs together on the guitar. There is also the bio luminesce of the phytoplankton that light up the water at night glowing blue from a chemical reaction that is unlike anything I have seen and I may as well be a character in my most favorite film, “The Life Aquatic”. I needed this. Love is a gift. My light was out and it is now lit again.

Another story comes to mind from the book I mentioned before, Women Who Run with Wolves. It is the tale of “The Skeleton Women”, a creature so scary. This girl was pushed off a cliff by her father long ago and her bones laid at the bottom of the sea. Well a fisherman comes by one day thinking he caught the catch of the day and instead pulls the "skeleton woman" up in his net. He runs home to get far away from her but Skeleton Women is there at the fisherman’s door. Though he is scared he lets her in. He begins to untangle her. He begins to cry. The tears fall on her lips and as she drinks his salty tears which return her to to life again.

It feels good to be untangled. I am in love w/ this place and the subtle medicine here for those who are open to receiving it. I don’t know where I am going but I know I am not lost. Following the heart always pays off.