Blessings for the New Year

I was taking a walk near the laguna.  I love this area and it is a great place to go after work to clear my head.  I was enjoying the stark landscape of winter and noticing the hint of green carpet starting to sprout from recent rain.  I came upon a small group of wild felines, gazing at me and but not coming toward me.  I stopped to watch them and noticed a women up ahead of me moving her arms up, down, around and talking out loud.  I wasn't even sure what she was doing, but as I have stated before - after you have lived in Sebastopol for a while, you are unfazed by these things.  She came closer but I wasn't sure she saw me.
After a minute or two, she stopped and looked in my direction.  "We are starting a new year's ritual."
There was no one else around.  I did not know who she meant by "we."  For a few seconds I actually thought she meant her and the feral cats.  But she stepped in the opposite direction of the cats, and I concluded she meant her and the trees.  Or maybe her and the water fairies.  I wasn't sure.
A moment later two men came around the bend and I realized the three of them were together.  I must admit, I shifted from innocent stroller to trolling blogger.
"What would you like to manifest for the new year?" the woman asked me.  (In this part of the world, people talk a lot about manifesting.)
"Oh, leave her alone," one of the men said in a friendly voice.  "She is just out taking a walk."
I asked what they wanted to manifest.  We chatted about new year's resolutions which included meditation goals, healthy eating and spending less time on the computer.  The most memorable was one of the men saying during 2014 he wanted to ecstatic dance in every major city on the west coast. 
As I went to continue on my walk, one of them said, "Blessings for a prosperous New Year.  And by the way, we lost our friend on stilts."
I half-laughed, as I thought he was joking.  Then I realized they were serious.  "You lost him?"
"We don't know where he went off to.  If you see him, tell him we are over this way," the woman requested.
"All right," I replied.  "No problem."
"He has blond hair and a shirt with a picture of an eagle on it."
"Okay."  I nodded.  "But I believe the stilts will give him away."


Guest contributor, Jennifer, performing at the Goddess Crafts Fair:
"We performed an act as Orishas.  I was the Orisha Oya.  The Orisha of change, hurricanes and tornadoes. When it was my turn to do a solo I danced with a whisk.  I turned in circles and screamed at the top of my lungs.  Yes, I scared the children of Sebastopol."

Favorite line of the week:
"I'm sorry, did you say you needed more chi?  Or more chai?"

Holidaze

"Merry Christmas.  Happy solstice.  Happy Kwanza.  You really have to name off everything around here!"
Woman (wearing a pentagram and moon pendant):  "I like saying Merry Christmas.  I know in Sebastopol that is kind of a rebellious thing, but it's nice to just say Merry Christmas!  I hope I don't offend too many locals."

"I like coming over to Sebastopol.  The shops are crowded and people are stressed out buying last minute presents, but everyone is so nice and polite about it."

"I don't know what to get her.  She is getting back from a seven day vision quest thing.  I'm like, here have some earrings after you've been sitting outside for four days and nights with vultures and wild coyotes."
"She sat outside for four days?"
"Yes, that's what a vision quest is.  You sit by yourself by a tree or something and don't eat for four days and think about your life."
"And why would anyone go do that to themselves?"

In line at the post office:  "I'm sending holiday cards to Christians, atheists and pagans.  It was hard enough finding mellow cards that I could send to everyone - I don't know what kind of stamps to get!  Being p.c. takes a lot of work."

"All this Christmas music is stressing me out.  Can I please just go home and do shavasana until January second?" *


Favorite line of the week...
Young dude in front of a crystal shop:  "Would you like to put on these special glasses and see lots of multi-colored rainbows?"
Me:  "No, thanks, I'm late meeting someone."  And thinking to myself, isn't it a given that rainbows are multi-colored?



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* Shavasana, for those who do not do yoga or live in an area surrounded by yoga studios, is the final resting pose at the end of a yoga session. 

What's in the cards for today?

I was sitting in the back corner of Milk and Honey (a gift shop with a strong female identity) where there are some comfortable seats and a table with many decks of cards to draw from (tarot, goddess, self-care, animal cards among others).  A woman was standing reading the bulletin board, viewing the many fliers for yoga classes and local workshops.  (See On Any Given Weekend, previous blog.)  She inhaled deeply and said to no one in particular, "This is great.  I haven't had a good scented candle fix for a while."
A person meandering close by came and sat down on the couch by me, and invited the woman on the olfactory high to come draw a card.  Apparently, from their comments, they had just been in a qi gong class together.
One drew from an angel deck and showed us the card.  It was "Children."
"I just got a two hour break from my kids going to qi gong!  Why does that mean, to draw a card about children?"
"There are different meanings.  You should read what the card means," her fellow classmate said.
The Mom on a Break picked up the small booklet.  After reading the blurb, she stated, "I want to draw another card."
The other woman chose a card from a goddess deck, drawing a goddess none of us had heard of.  She read what this goddess symbolizes which had to do with using one's voice and/or creativity.  She sighed.  "Truth be told, I'd rather draw a card that says I'm going to make more money."
"Well, that would be Lakshmi," I informed her.
They both stared at me.  "Seriously," I said.  Lakshmi is well-known for prosperity and abundance, and I had recently been in a small business where I noticed the owner had place a Lakshmi statue near the cash register.  (And, I should point out, this was actually in Santa Rosa even.)
"Do they have any prints of her here?" the woman asked.
"Definitely."  There is never a shortage of Lakshmi statues, cards and pictures at Milk and Honey. 
She got up to look around.  The other woman seemed to be contemplating something.  She said to me after a moment:  "There are so many divination card decks now.  I can't believe nobody has made one with Super Heroes."
I laughed.  "I like that idea." 
"If you knew it was going to be a hard day at work, how great would it be to draw the Incredible Hulk over your morning cup of coffee?"
"I think you are on to something."
I pictured a line of divination cards on one of the Milk and Honey shelves:  The Magician (tarot) card, Athena from the goddess deck, Inspiration from the Angel deck and WONDER WOMAN. 


Favorite line of the week:
Regarding the Milk and Honey window:  "There is a cauldron full of sao paolo sticks, and around the sao paolo is a circle of goddesses."

 

Sebasto-Cruz

I had been making my way down Highway 1 toward Monterey.  After watching a beautiful dark pink sunset on the coast I stopped to get a snack.  I was in the northern end of Santa Cruz.  I waited as some other people ordered in front of me.  We chatted about how nice the weather had been that day, etc.  Eventually one of them asked me where I was from since I mentioned being on a mini-road trip.
"I'm from the northbay - Sonoma County," I replied.
"Oh, I love that area," a woman responded.  "Especially Sebastopol.  I had a cousin that lived there and I visited her a few times."
Her friend shared a story about attending a massage workshop in Sebastopol.  The instructor sent them out one morning to find some students to practice on.  She ended up scaring quite a few people off, according to her, by sauntering up to them and offering free massage.  "I guess I didn't really explain I was taking a class.  They just thought I was walking around downtown trying to massage people."
"Well, you were in Sebastopol," someone remarked.  "I'm sure it wasn't that unusual.  It's not like you were in Vallejo.  Then that would have been strange."
A couple standing behind them, who looked like they could have walked out of the crystal shop that was on Main Street in Sebastopol for many years, chimed in.  They lived near Calistoga at one point but loved visiting Sebastopol.  "The best Thanksgiving dinner I ever had was in Sebastopol," the man said.  "Although it was actually vegetarian.  And the pretend-turkey didn't cook all the way through.  And we had more Indian food than American food - but what a great feast."
His partner, wearing a large garnet pendant that matched his, nodded in agreement.  "Lots of curried vegetables and naan," she remembered.  "And the pumpkin pies did not turn out but there was baklava to die for." 
As I listened to their stories it occurred to me, I'm not sure how but I have become a magnet for all things Sebastopol. 
Even in Santa Cruz.


Most surreal moment:
Standing in front of Milk and Honey talking to two Mormon missionaries.  "So," one of them asks, pointing to a sign, "tell me more about the Goddess Crafts Fair.  Does that happen every weekend in Sebastopol?"
("No," I respond, but thinking to myself, if there was a town that hosted such a fair every weekend, it would be this one.) 


Favorite line of the week:
One of two people (strangers to each other) hugging:  "No, we have to reposition this way to hug so our hearts are touching."

Plaza (self-)consciousness

It was a nice warm afternoon and I was having trouble heading elsewhere to work on a project that required being inside.  I was sitting in the plaza enjoying the nice breeze and wondering how long I could put off heading where I was supposed to be.  It was relatively quiet in the plaza, and I only half-noticed a man juggling and a few kids running around.  One of the girls came over closer to me and I saw that she was watching the juggler.  He moved closer to us and asked how it was going and tossed her a ball.  She didn't quite know what to do with it so she tossed it back.
"Do you want to try to juggle?" he asked her.  She shook her head but did look a bit intrigued.
He turned and asked me the same question.  "I don't think so," I responded.  "I'm not very good at that type of thing."
"I just finished a class on conscious juggling," he told me.  "Have you heard of conscious juggling?"
"No.  I have heard of Zen hula-hooping."
Without missing a beat, he ended up telling me about this class.  As you try and juggle you pay attention to the things that come up for you.  Like feeling  uncomfortable or fearful or remembering being criticized as a kid for not doing something right.  "It tells you a lot about yourself."
The girl had come closer and was eyeing the four balls he kept quite adeptly in the air.
"Do you want to try?" he asked me.
"No, I think I would feel too self-conscious."   I realized my answer pretty much proved his point regarding conscious juggling.  But I still was not about to get up off the bench and give it a try.
"It can be very enlightening.  You can see things about yourself and work through them."  Yeah, I still wasn't going for it.
He and the girl tossed some balls back and forth for a few minutes.  A woman with a younger boy came over and called to her.  "It's time to go.  We are going to be late for goddess hour."
"What is goddess hour exactly?" I asked her mother.
"A woman who teaches dance has it once a week.  Stories about the goddess, singing, stretching."
The girl threw back her last ball.  "Who is your favorite goddess?" I asked.  Having worked at Milk and Honey, there were quite a few goddesses I was familiar with.
But she just stared at me.  I glanced at the juggler and we smiled. "Okay, then.  Well, have a nice time."
She ran off.  The juggler asked me where one could get good espresso in Sebastopol, so I was letting him know his options.  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the girl and her mother stop.  Turning back to me the girl yelled, "Kwan yin!  It's Kwan yin!" 
I smiled and gave her a thumbs up.
"Goddess hour," the juggler chortled.  "Only in Sebastopol."
This coming from Conscious Juggling Guy.


Favorite line of the week:
"How are things going?"
"Well, I'm not feeling very spiritually aligned this morning."

Chai and chocolate mousse

I was unobtrusively sitting in the corner at the Sebastopol Starbucks with my soy chai and cell phone.  My friend had been stuck in 101 traffic and texted telling me she was hopefully able to get off at the next exit.  Two soccer moms were next to me complaining about a teacher’s aide.  There was no indication I was even in Sebastopol.  Or so one would think. 

As the moms got up and left a bigger group of people sat down, pulling out some containers of lentil salad, quinoa something-or-other, steamed veggies and chocolate mousse.  I only know this because they announced each one as it came out of a big bag with an Om sign on it.

Apparently they were here visiting from Marin and other parts of the bay area.  As it turned out, I learned a few minutes later after two of them left the table, three of the women were involved with the same man.  And there was a primary partner – I wasn’t sure who it was – and the non-primary partners were not happy with some dynamics in the situation.  I sat at a small corner table, they had actually boxed me in.  So there was no way to avoid hearing the conversation which they weren’t particularly having quietly.  I didn’t know if they just tended to talk loudly about personal matters, or if they were just oblivious to the fact I was there.

The man at the epi-center of this clan was Daniel, and apparently he had the annoying habit of comparing his different women to his primary partner.  I was curious to know which of the three was the “primary partner” when I finally realized there was a fourth woman.  The primary partner actually wasn’t present.   Everyone was in Sebastopol for a 25^th wedding anniversary party (in which I found a little irony given the topic of conversation) - minus his primary partner, and they were trying to decide how to tell Daniel to stop comparing them to her without causing drama. 

There is a reality show for polygamous wives.  But seriously, there hasn’t been one for open relationships?  Because I think it would be very interesting to follow this little tribe around.  (Although it would probably be more of an HBO show.)  Apparently each of them individually had talked to Daniel about the comparisons but they had not stopped.  Maybe they had to confront him as a group.  A man and a woman walked up and sat down with their drinks and the group fell silent.  I realized, this must be Daniel.  Everybody was suddenly overly-interested in the containers of food.  Just then my friend walked in and motioned for me to come stand in line with her.  I just wanted to stay in my seat and pretend to text, but two of the women turned around and looked at me.  “Oh, we’re sorry,” one of them said.  “I didn’t see you there.”  Which would explain why she backed her chair practically up to my feet.

“No problem,” I said, standing up.  Several of them moved their chairs and one of them offered me some chocolate mousse.  “No thanks,” I said, although it did look quite good.  (And I noticed Daniel appeared rather taken with my friend, who is quite attractive.  He kept staring at her.) 

As we were standing in line I told my friend the topic of conversation.  A bit intrigued, she suggested, "We should go back and sit next to them!"  But there was no one else inside Starbucks at the moment, so there was no way to casually sit down right by them.  Unless, it occurred to my friend, we could ask for some of that chocolate mousse. 

Favorite line of the week:

“No, really - that’s his dog’s name.  His dog is named Buddha.”

A quaint little town

One Saturday afternoon I was heading into Whole Foods when a nice family from India came up to me and asked if I lived in Sebastopol.  They were traveling in the U.S. for several weeks and were in northern California for a few days. 
"We read that Sebastopol is a quaint little town with cafes and shops.  Could you tell us how to find the cafes?" the father asked.  Personally, I would use the word quirky rather than quaint, but I don't write travel books.
I have an inner tour guide and which easily emerges around foreigners.  Especially foreigners with lovely accents.  I told them I would be glad to show them around for a few minutes if that would be helpful.   They were appreciative and the few minutes turned into two hours.  Deciding where to head, we talked for a moment in front of Whole Foods while a woman was hula-hooping.  She was also giving her card to someone and she teaches Zen hula-hooping sessions.  (If you do not know what Zen hula-hooping is, I am right there with you.)
There was the father and his daughter and I believe his sister and her husband in the group.  They were pleasant people and I learned about the region of India they were all from.  After the downtown jaunt we ended up at a teahouse.  We were waiting in line behind three young hipsters, who were all about the love.  I say this because I don't know what exactly they were talking about, but between the three of them, they echoed this about eight times in the three minutes we stood behind them.  Even when one of them handed the cashier a twenty dollar bill, it was "all about the love."  They turned around and looked at us so intently I thought we were all going to get embraced or be told it was all about the love.  But they ended up merely smiling and moving on.
As we were drinking tea Jagad mentioned someone told them to get massages while they were in Sebastopol.  "Could you recommend any good massage therapists here?  We would rather not go to a tourist spa center."
Sebastopol has an abundance of massage therapists.  If you walk down the street and pass four people, there is a good chance one of them is a masseuse.  (And another one is probably an MFT.)  I informed him there were several names I could give him.  The daughter - who I think probably would have rather been in L.A., or at least San Francisco - piped up, asking where they could go get some normal food.
To clarify, I asked her what she meant by 'normal' food. "Something without sprouts."
We walked back over to Whole Foods, and the woman was still hula-hooping although she had recruited a partner.  We said good-bye and I pointed them in the direction of a restaurant where they could find a 'normal' lunch.  Jagad said, "I like Sebastopol.  It is a town that appears to be very in touch with it's feminine side."
I nodded.  That being the understatement of the century.
"Very pleasant people," he noted.  We shook hands.  "And I will remember," he added with an amused look on his face, "that it is all about the love."


Favorite line of the week:
"It takes me twice as long to get through the Whole Foods in Sebastopol because of all the hugging."







 

Halloween with a Sebastopol twist

I was wandering around the plaza on Saturday when I came upon a group of kids dressed up for Halloween, on their way home from an event where they had obtained plenty of candy for the coming weeks.  A young boy came alongside me.
"I like your snake costume," I mentioned.  He looked up at me and then his older sister (I presume) chimed in.
"He is a serpent."
"Oh.  Pardon me.  I like your serpent costume."
She stopped to talk to me.  "Our dad was born the year of the serpent."
One minute conversation with someone under the age of twelve, and we were already talking about Chinese astrology.  I, too, was born the year of the snake.  So fortunately I was able to converse with this young girl who was either a fairy princess or a unicorn.  I couldn't quite tell.  There appeared to be elements of both.
I asked what her costume was, and she said it was a question.  Would she tell me what the question was?
"What do you get when you cross a fairy and a unicorn?"
Well, yes.  That is exactly what she appeared to be.
A mermaid, a ladybug and a boy in a cardboard box came over to us.  The boy in the box also had some plastic bottles hanging off of him.  He held up a sign.  "Recycling in action."  You had to love it - not just recycling, recycling in action.  I think it was my favorite costume so far this year.
Some other young children came up to me, but when they discovered I didn't have any candy they quickly wandered off.  There were some cute costumes, but one boy about seven years old was dressed entirely in bluish-purple, from head to toe.  I couldn't fathom what he was.
I asked if he was a blueberry popsicle.  He said no.  Was he a blueberry pop-tart?  He was not.  Finally another kid told him to lie on the ground.  Which he did, perfectly still and hands at his side.  Several of them were looking at me.  I still did not have the faintest idea.  "A blueberry popsicle that fell on the ground?"
Several of them giggled.  "Just tell her," one of them said.
He was a yoga mat.  I mean seriously, how can you top that?

Guest contributor:
My friend Jess was shopping at Whole Foods.  She heard one employee say to another: "Which goddess are you representing today?"
The reply:  "I'm Oya, one of the Orishas."  And proceeded to talk about her daily divinity choice.


Favorite line of the week:
"Well, keep me posted as to what the pendulum is saying."

Lazy Sunday afternoons

I have an early work schedule five days a week and consequently I am usually wiped out on Friday night.  And recuperating on Saturday.  Sunday is often the only day of the week I am relaxed.  We have been having beautiful autumnal weather this year and I set out to do some errands however it just wasn't happening.  It was too nice a day and I was not in a productive mode.  But at the minimum I had to grocery shop and I pulled into the parking lot of Whole Foods.  Between two Priuses.  I didn't notice this until I was getting something out of my trunk and a woman walked up behind me.  "So glad to see a car other than a Prius.  I thought maybe that was a prerequisite for driving here."

I wandered around the store for a bit but was jarred out of my haze when a group of children semi-circled me as I was filling my water bottles.  They were singing something to the tune of "Everybody Dance Now."  I thought it was "Everybody clap now..."  But as they repeated it I realized they were singing "Everybody chant now!"  I looked up and down the aisle to see a mom or dad, curious as to the origin of this young mob.  But no adults were around.  It was just a group of Lost Boys and Girls swarming around me.  After staring at me for a minute they moved on to the frozen section, their enthusiasm escalating as they peered into the coconut ice cream section.  Still exclaiming, "Everybody chant now!"

For some reason half of Sebastopol was in Whole Foods at this time and I ended up having to wait in a slow line.  The couple in front of me was discussing Kombucha.  For nearly ten minutes.  This is not an exaggeration.  Not the process or how it is made - just simply the drink itself.  Flavors, brands, memories.   I have never heard anyone talk so long about Kombucha.  (Actually, I'm not sure I've ever heard anyone talk so long about a beverage.)  On my way out I ran into a friend and because it was such a lovely day we sat outside soaking up the late afternoon sun.  The most memorable part of our conversation came from him, when I was telling him about a matchmaking possibility.  He replied jokingly, "You would have to find out what her spirit animal is."

Guest contributor: 
My friend Gina was visiting from out-of-state, sitting in the plaza with her friend.  They were on the steps of the corner of the gazebo that faces the movie theater, right by a tree with really thick foliage.  They had been sitting there for about 20 minutes, eating dinner and talking, when suddenly a long-haired hippie kid fell out of the tree, got up and just walked away like nothing had happened.  They had no idea he was even there as the leaves in the tree were so thick.  Her friend noted, without skipping a beat, "That's where all the kids of Sebastopol come from!"


Favorite line of the week:
"I'm an accountant.  I really don't know what chakras are."

On any given weekend...

On a Thursday my friend and I were drinking fresh squeezed honey-sweetened lemonade (which was extremely good) after doing volunteer work for her daughter's club.  Kim had a friend visiting from out of state, although she (Melissa) had lived in northern California when she went to college.  And she missed it.  A lot.  She was determined to get as much out of her two week stay in west county as possible.
Melissa had been at a class on natural detoxing.  She was going to meet us any minute.  "She is a bit stressed out today," Kim informed me.  I asked why and she replied, "Oh, you'll see."  She had a look on her face that indicated this might be something for your blog.
I had met Melissa twice before but was surprised to see that she did in fact appear quite stressed when she walked up.  She sat down on the bench and crumpled into herself.  "I don't know what to do."
I glanced at Kim.  "She double-booked herself.  She signed up for two workshops this weekend."
This was not inconceivable.  Sebastopol has an abundance of workshops and retreats.  Massage/ chanting/toning/meditation/drumming/sound healing/ecstatic dancing which could be paired with yoga or tantra or creative writing or past life regression (any of which could be infused with a divine feminine theme).  When I first moved here I couldn't believe how many there were.  I signed up for several - a few were phenomenal experiences.  And a few were... well, the fliers were much better than the actual retreats.
Now Melissa had mistakenly spent quite a bit of money to attend two three-day workshops, unfortunately both occurring this weekend.   One was a restorative yoga retreat for women going through transition and the other she explained to me but I didn't understand.  (Something to do with divine essence.)  She didn't know what to do and had to decide because both of them started tomorrow.
"Well," Kim asked, speaking practically, "can you get a refund for either of them?"
She shook her head.  "I don't think so."  She showed us print-outs from websites for both activities.  "I thought one of them was next weekend," she said in her defense, sounding exasperated.
Did she know anyone taking either workshop?  No.
Which was in a prettier location?  One near the coast, the other in the redwoods.
Which would have better food?  Hard to say.  Both promised healthy vegetarian meals.
At the bottom of the yoga retreat I noticed something.  "Well, my choice would be this one.  A free massage is included if you attend the entire weekend."
Melissa looked closely at the paper.  "I did sign up for the whole weekend.  All right, yoga in the redwoods wins."


Favorite line of the week:
"You know that older crazy woman who walks around Sebastopol a lot?"
"Um, you will have to be more specific than that."

Mosh pits and migraine remedies

Around town

Tweener to her friend, "And I was like, 'This is not facebook and you are not my friend." *

In front of Whole Foods:  "You will like her, she is really nice.  Except when she teaches yoga - then she is a complete control freak."

On a particularly crowded Farmer's Market Sunday:  "It's like a Zen mosh pit around here." 

Twentysomething to his buddy:  "I've been trying to manifest a car.  But so far I've had two free bicycles given to me.  I don't know what I'm doing wrong."

Woman talking on her cell phone:  "Yes, I know.  There is organic chocolate everywhere - chocolate with ginger, chocolate with chai.  I just want to find a Kit Kat!"
 
Physician standing outside a health clinic:  "Yes, I am a doctor.  And yes I do practice in Sebastopol.  But no, I do not know what herb cures migraines or how lavender pillows help your health."

Sebastopol has cars with license plates that read FULMOON and DREAMER, and bumper stickers such as "Coexist" and "We are all connected."  So it was unusual to have a burly guy walk up to me wearing a t-shirt that read, "I WILL DESTROY YOU."  And even more so when he asked me where Blue Haven yoga studio was.
 

Favorite line from a friend:
Gina is visiting from Minnesota (and used to live in Sonoma County).  I went to pick her up at Whole Foods and she quickly made her way over to my car.  "I'm so glad you're here!  I've only been sitting there for ten minutes and have already overheard two separate conversations about the Grateful Dead!"


* (You may wonder what this has to do with Sebastopol.  Nothing, actually.  I just thought it was funny.)  

Sebastopol sunrise

You know you've lived in Sebastopol for a while when any line of conversation can be connected back to astrology and it doesn’t faze you.

I had dropped a friend off at the Santa Rosa airport and found myself in the Sebastopol plaza early one morning with a couple of hours to spare.  It was a chilly morning and the fog would not burn off for a few hours.  The small coffee place in the plaza had just opened.  I ordered my chai and found myself chatting with a few early morning stray folk.

The guy next to me was quite tall with thick curly hair.  He looked like a hippie version of Kenny G.  He was talking about his car breaking down the day before.  Sitting next to him was a younger girl obsessed with texting on her phone.  When she asked for “extra syrup, please” - I don’t quite know how - it sounded like “plz."  Barely looking up, she commented that her phone had been doing some strange things this week.  A woman walked up and ordered tea, not saying anything.  She looked like she had come of age in the seventies and never quite left that decade.  
Two Sebastopol dudes (and I think it is okay to call them that, because most of their sentences began with, "Dude...") chimed in that some car they drove kept breaking down this week AND the last time, when they needed a tow, the tow truck they called never showed up.  Cell phone girl had a story about going to a scheduled appointment and the doctor’s office was locked and empty.  And I observed that my friend's car had not started and she had nearly missed her flight, which was why I was up so early on a Saturday morning in the first place. 
“Strange,” Kenny G noted. 
The woman with the seventies scarf remarked, “Not really.”  And launched into an explanation regarding a lunar eclipse and planetary trine that was taking place at the moment.  Astrologically speaking, it was not smooth sailing right now.  And it would be this way for at least another week.
“So it’s a stars thing?” one of the dudes asked. 
“It's the planets,” she corrected.  She smiled, took her tea and macramé bag and was on her way.
“So…” the other dude wanted to know (and for some reason looking at me), “our car broke down because of Venus?”

Favorite line of the week…

My co-worker and I looking at the cover of a New Age cd a musician had given me:  "Are the emus and owls flying into or out of the rainbow vortex?"

"They appear to be flying around the rainbow vortex."

Sebastopol city ordinances

I work with teens and my shift starts early everyday.  I am usually driving to work around 6:30 a.m.  Because of my work schedule I am rather tired during the week and do not usually stay out late.  Which is why I tend not to go to a venue on a Thursday evening when I know the band won't start playing until 10.
But I was very excited about this band.  I had heard them in San Francisco a year before.  A band with a Balkan gypsy music edge, I had watched their posts on Facebook talking about performances in New York, Los Angeles, France.  Much to my surprise one day a post appeared in my newsfeed about a show in Sebastopol.  Really?  I didn't even have to drive to Berkeley or the city?  I was stoked.  The only drawback was that it would be a Thursday evening.  I would just have to bite the bullet and know that on Friday I would be exhausted.
I tried to take a nap that afternoon but it did not work.  So I was already sleepy when I got to Hop Monk around nine o'clock and of course there was no music playing.  I sat outside for a minute waiting for a friend but received a text from her she wasn't yet on her way.  I went back to my car.  I read a few texts to keep me occupied but my eyes were tired. 
Unfortunately that morning I had woken up even before my alarm even went off.  It had been a long day.  I leaned the seat back in my car a little bit and closed my eyes.  Maybe if I rested for a few minutes I could get a second wind.  I was parked close enough that I would hear the music when it began.
Because I had been up early it wasn't a huge surprise that I fell asleep.  Not for long, however, because I woke up probably 20 minutes later due to a beaming light shining through the window.  I realized it was a cop.  Rolling down the window I said, "Yes?"
The officer was on his bike.  (Serioulsy.)  He asked me if I had been sleeping and I replied, "Sort of.  I'm just waiting for someone who hasn't gotten here yet."  I was disoriented but it wasn't for any reason they were suspecting.  I was disoriented because I wasn't used to having someone shine a bright light in my face.
Then he asked for my i.d. which I gave to him.  A police car pulled up and the second cop (also on a bike) walked over to it.  They ran my driver's license number.  Cop on a Bike #1 asked me how much I'd had to drink.  I almost started laughing.  "I haven't even been inside yet.  I'm waiting for someone," I repeated. 
He shined his light in the back seat of my car, illuminating my pile of notebooks and a Whole Foods bag.  I yawned twice which I guess wasn't the thing to do.  Not because I had been drinking but because I had been awake since five a.m..  (For the fourth day in a row.)
He asked me again how much alcohol I had consumed.  "None," I reiterated.  I thought they were going to make me get out of the car and walk a straight line.
Cop on a Bike #2 brought my license back.  "She's all clear." 
#1 said, "Are you aware it is against the law to sleep in your car in Sebastopol?"
Actually I was not aware of that.  But please - it wasn't as if I had passed out in the back seat, nor was it four in the morning.  It was 9:45 in the evening!  I tried to muster my polite voice and said I wasn't aware of that particular city ordinance but now I knew. 
The squad car pulled away and the two cops got back on their bikes.  Evidently this had been a three man deal.
I picked up my cell phone and texted my sister:  You know how we joke that Sebastopol police don't have much to do?



Favorite sighting of the week:
I pulled up behind a Honda Pilot.  Above the "4 WD" was another plaque that said "Namaste."  (Just to be clear - not a bumper sticker, a silver plaque.)

You know when you are walking through Sebastopol and it reminds you of Persia?

One Friday afternoon I set out determined to get a housewarming present for a friend.  She was having a small party and gifts were optional but if anyone did bring them there was a limit of $10.  I was going to wander in and out of stores in downtown Sebastopol to see what I could find for under ten bucks.
After walking out of one place - realizing the only thing under ten dollars had been cards and not even all of them - I saw a guy I used to go out with going into the Sebastopol Cookie Company.  Not really wanting to be held hostage listening to him recap nearly every aspect of his life since we had seen each other last, I quickly turned around and headed in the other direction.  After visiting four shops and only finding one thing I liked (which was way over the limit) I sat down on a bench to contemplate whether I should make the trek all the way to Santa Rosa for more options.  The person sitting next to me asked if I was from this area and I said yes.  Usually when people ask this they want restaurant recommendations, which I am glad to give.
"I really like this town," he said.  "Nice energy here.  I have a lot of past life visuals that come to me whenever I pass through here."
Okay.  Nice segue into ...?
He mused about living in Persia in the middle ages and how he always remembers this particular past life experience when he comes to Sebastopol.  He was living in a village, there was a temple, something about Persian dancers.
A woman ran by us and knocked on the door of a small shop but it was closed and nobody answered.  She flipped around.  "I am having an incense emergency!" she announced.  "I can't find any and I really need some!"
I started to ask what an incense emergency entailed but she was so serious I sensed it was not the moment to make light of this situation.  "What places around here sell incense?" she wanted to know.
"What places don't sell it?" I quipped, not entirely joking.  I've seen nag champa at 7-11.
She managed a frazzled I-don't-have-time-to-find-any-humor-in-this laugh.  "Maybe Siri knows where to find it around here."  She whipped out her phone.
I told her three places to go, guaranteeing she would find incense in at least one of them if not all three.  Thanking me she hurried off.  I did not ever discover why it was an emergency. 
My bench partner launched back into his account of his past life memories.  A winter celebration of people dancing in the Persian temple.  By then I conceded to myself it wouldn't have been so bad to run into my old boyfriend.  Although it occurred to me I could purchase a large box of incense for under $10.

Favorite line of the week:
"A body builder?  Around here?  Well, maybe if you wanted a vegan body builder, there might be one in Sebastopol."

Just don't spiral dance in my face

You know you're in Sebastopol when you set out to purchase a garden hose and end up buying a candle holder.

It was just after noon on a Sunday and my friend and I were driving back from a short hike.  "I have to go get a garden hose," she announced.  "Seriously.  Mine hasn't been working for several months."
That was our intention.  But as we drove through town we got caught in the Whole Foods-farmer's market vortex.  We were just going to run in to Whole Foods.  I wanted something to drink and she wanted a latte and then we were going to go right back to our car.  But somebody was telling us about these really good tamales at the farmer's market, so we made our way across the street.  And actually there was good music playing as well. 
I talked to one of the musicians when they took a break.  He had played in an Irish band at the Celtic festival a few years ago.  I told him how disappointed I had been when the Sebastopol Celtic festival got cancelled.  "Me, too," he replied.  "This is one of my favorite areas to perform in.  Especially with the noodle dancers."
I looked at him.  For the life of me, I couldn't understand what he was referring to.  He got up and demonstrated a sort of willow-y Burning Man-esque type of move. 
I laughed.  "And you only see this in Sebastopol?" 
"I've performed at Celtic festivals all over the U.S. and Europe, and I've never seen that anywhere else."  He sat back down.  "And there are types of music that probably go with the noodle dance.  But not really Irish," he mused.  I had to concur.
After getting tamales (which were indeed very good) we ended up talking to someone at a booth selling locally made vases, candle holders and some objects I couldn't quite identify.  Some people were dancing on the grass area, and one couple spiral danced their way right next to us.  Several times.  I actually found it rather entertaining, but the booth owner was becoming quite annoyed.  Finally he said, "Can you please do your dancing over there?"  He pointed to the group of improv dancers.  Still looking at each other, without breaking eye contact, they semi-apologized and made their way back over to the grass.  "I don't mind the dancing," the merchant mumbled. "Just don't do it in my face."
My friend and I smiled at each other.  She was looking at a very pretty purple stained glass candle holder.  "I thought you needed to go to the hardware store," I reminded her.
"I do."  But she picked up another one.  "These are really nice."
I had a feeling there was going to be no new garden hose today.  I sat down on a bench as she continued looking at candle holders.  My friend Anna Beth has started doing intuitive readings at the market.  She told me that another reader was not so happy about Anna Beth doing readings "on her turf."
"There is kind of a showdown between me and her right now," she had informed me.  "We'll see what happens."  I wondered what other turf wars might be taking place at the farmer's market.
My friend came over to me.  "If I buy one he will give me the second one for half price."  So she bought the purple one for herself and I went home with a dark green one.  Candle holders, 2.  Garden hose, 0.

Favorite line of the week: 
Walking into the teen center behind a mother and her young daughter.  "Honey, do you have your snack?"
"Yes, mom."
"Do you have your water bottle?"
"Yes."
"Do you have your Buddha?"

You know you've lived in Sebastoppol for a long time...

You know you've lived in Sebastopol a long time when the conversation turns to discussing chakras, and you don't think of this as out of the ordinary.

A friend commented to me, "A lot of your Sebastopol experiences must come from hanging out at Milk and Honey."  Actually, many of the Very Sebastopol encounters I have happen at Whole Foods.  Or in front of Whole Foods.  Or in the Whole Foods parking lot. 

It was an unusually hot afternoon and I had been at a park in Santa Rosa, watching people guzzle Coke and Pepsi like there was no tomorrow.  Now I was sitting in the Sebastopol plaza where most people were drinking coconut water or organic lemonade.  I was sipping my pro-biotic drink.  My friend Sylvie was visiting from the east bay and wanted an iced coffee.  She wondered if it was worth trying the Starbucks at Safeway.  I was assuring her it was not.  But she didn't feel like getting back in her car to drive to the real Starbucks, so we did a short trek to Safeway via the Whole Foods parking lot.  Someone I had taken a massage class with jumped out of his car and rushed over to give me a hug.  "I've been on the computer all day..." he informed us.  "My third chakra is depleted.  This heat is killing me.  I am so drained.  My root chakra is not doing well, either.  I've got to get it together to go to this ecstatic dance thing tonight."  He pointed to his third eye.  "Maybe that will help me feel more aligned..."  We talked for another minute, and he was off to Whole Foods to apparently get some nourishing chakra chow. 

"Wow," Sylvie commented.  "On a scale of one to ten of 'How Sebastopol was that?' - I would say that was a nine."

But being from Sebastopol, I was pretty unfazed by this.

Welcome to Sebastoblog

I live in Sebastopol (in Sonoma County north of San Francisco).  I like Sebastopol and there are many things I appreciate about living here.  A friend visited recently and I realized we were within 20 minutes of driving to the coast, going to the redwoods or catching a good independent film.  I have lived in Sonoma County for 16 years and 12 of those years have been in Sebastopol.  My sister owns Milk and Honey in downtown Sebastopol, a goddess-themed gift shop for women.  I worked there part-time for over a year.   It is a “very Sebastopol” store.  I know this to be the case because I can’t count how many times people came in and said “My sister/cousin/friend I reconnected with on Facebook is visiting and I just had to bring them to Milk and Honey.  It’s part of the Sebastopol experience.” 

I enjoyed working at Milk and Honey and met some customers who are now close friends.  I had lengthy, meaningful and interesting discussions with folks who came in the shop.  (I alsob have been told I have meaningful, philosophical conversations chatting in line for groceries, so I can’t pin that all on Milk and Honey.)  But there were times people visited the shop that were so Very Sebastopol they pushed me over the edge.  One time when I was waiting to meet a friend a man came in and said he wanted to put together a goddess bag for his beautiful goddess girlfriend’s birthday.  I was innocently looking at birthday cards but for some reason he chose me as a “fellow goddess” from whom he wanted advice.  He showed me several things to assess how goddessy they were, one of them being a pen with a little Lakshmi on the end of it.  What would go better in a goddess room – this kind of candle?  Did this shop have any gift bags with a goddess on them?  Now, I have a Kwan Yin statue of my own at home, and also several pictures and carvings of Sarasvati (Hindu goddess of poetry and the arts).  But at one point, I thought to myself, if he says the word goddess one more time I am going to gouge myself with one of those Lakshmi pens.  

So there are some cultural aspects to this west county community that can be quite humorous.  I thought it was just me.  But about six months ago I posted on Facebook:  “You know you’ve lived in Sebastopol for a long time when you are talking to someone and they start doing tai chi, and you don’t even notice.”  For about a week, everywhere I went people kept telling me how funny that post was.  "And it's so true!" more than one individual exclaimed.  Even some who I thought might be offended, people I would consider Very Sebastopol themselves.   Every few weeks I would post a new “You know you’ve lived in Sebastopol for a while …” update.  At some point people started telling me I should start a blog.  Naturally, many days are quite ordinary.  So I can’t promise every post will be funny.  But it is an intriguing community and not many cities have prompted a bumper sticker that reads:  “Could I get directions to Sebastopol, or do I need to go on a vision quest to get there?”  
Welcome to notes, observations and contemplations from Sebastopol.  

~Cami 

First blogette

If you're tired of the same old story,
Ohhh, turn some pages...

--REO Speedwagon