“Par de chur” the waiter asked me, as a follow up to my order of cafe con leche. I hesitated and tried to act natural at the same time, my mind churning with the insecurity of not knowing what the right next response was. He is a local waiter, an older man, in a rush and serving me along with many other vacationers having their morning breakfast at 11: 30 on the stone patio andador in the small mountain community of San Lorenzo del Escorial, Spain. “Par de chur” he offered me, it took a moment and then I captured it, “A pair of churros” he was offering to accompany the coffee I had just ordered. In the briefest moment that had transpired between his automatic follow up question and my million of brain clicks and associations to come up with an answer, I said, “Si, un par de chur…” as though I wanted them and it was all just as natural as could be. He walked away, content with my order, and I broke into the biggest smile, all by myself at the table.
This morning, I woke up to a note from a sweet friend, Tanya Sugarman. She was checking in on me and ended her whatsapp message with, “I would love to hear more details of your one wild and precious life.” A Mary Oliver quote that I recognized immediately for my love of the way that it both asks a question and requires accountability in the same. Hmm… What am I doing with my life these days?
A month ago, I left San Pancho for a few weeks in California, a time to see friends, have a family reunion in the cute 1920’s beach cabins at Crystal Cove and then head home again. I wasn’t feeling inspired to go, I was just settling in again at my house in Mexico and wanted to focus on work and find a consistent rhythm. Of course I also wanted to see my kids and my family and left home knowing that I would be back soon. But then, as life sometimes rolls in the most unexpected of waves, I woke up from a fitful sleep on my sister’s living room couch to an email request to lead a workshop in Spain. It was scheduled for just a few days after my planned family gathering and I figured that when they discovered that the cost of my plane ticket was nearly the same as the cost of the workshop, that they would suggest we schedule for another time. But they didn’t and although it was a scurry, I found myself on a plane to Madrid with a one way ticket and not enough brain space to calculate a plan that extended beyond the moment of the workshop. A few weeks later now, I am still in Spain, sitting in a sun soaked cafe and watching the procession of elegant Spanish ladies pass by, all ages, all forms of flowy summer dresses and strappy sandals. The weather is glorious, the breeze and birds, the chatter of the Spaniards at the tables all around me. I have been here for nearly two weeks and haven’t once heard someone speak English. There are surely tourists here, but they are from here too.
At this moment in my life and career and just months away from turning 50, I can’t help but take a moment to review. Is this where I want to be, am I doing all I can, am I the person I want to be and how, how am I contributing? Is it enough, is it where it’s most needed?
Most people don’t understand me and sometimes, I too, don’t understand me and yet I keep stepping forward, absolutely sure that the dreams that I have for my work, for myself, will materialize. My time, my precious time that is dedicated to hours behind the computer… to building a network of people who share our same interests, our belief that we can do education better, that our children and our communities deserve more. I do this work without pay, or sometimes with little pay, I travel and charge those trips on my credit card with confidence, and almost always, I pay them off and do it again. But occasionally, I am acutely aware of the rhythm of this commitment and what it doesn’t build. I own almost nothing, and sometimes, if I spend too much time with people who do, alongside those comfortable lifestyles, with those expectations and also subtle judgements, sometimes, I wonder if it’s okay, this life I live, these choices I’ve made. It would be unnatural and inauthentic to not hesitate, to not sit with the deep uncomfort and wonder if I’ve done it all wrong.
I will work this week, having rented a space at the local government-run co-working space. I have plenty to do, as both of the organizations that I currently run are seeing tremendous opportunities begin to materialize. It has been a good week for me, for Compass Education, and maybe, just maybe we will begin to see the kind of recognition that I think we deserve. There have been so many no’s, rejections, “not now but maybe next year,” … and emails after emails that begin with, “Thank you for your application… Unfortunately…,” that I almost have stopped to register them. And so, in this week that MIT Solve moved us forward as semi-finalists, TED wrote to say that I had made it to the finals as a speaker candidate, HundrED started their email with “Congratulations, your innovation has been chosen for the 2024 Global Collection” in this week, I feel like maybe, just maybe, I can begin to breathe.
The parade of people continues in front of me, the waiter charges my card and smiles with kindness and calls me “guapa” when I ask him to include a small tip, the tattooed waitress in short shorts smokes a cigarette between spurts of sweeping on the patio, the fancy Spaniards in summer splendor pass in front of me, and again I smile.
Ahhh… my one wild and precious life.