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."