#6–Dreaming of a Beach Life in Baja

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We spend a lot of time talking about our dream to live on a beach in Baja where we imagine the cost of living to be cheap and there will be good surf. I don’t surf, but Greg does. It is part of who he is, and I love that about him. Well, most of the time, anyway. His obsession with it somewhat dictates how we live our lives—what we do on the weekends, where we travel, how we spend some of our money, and even which magazines we buy. But that doesn’t mean it is bad or wrong. The ocean has great lure for me too. While I am not a surfer, number one on my wish list is to live by the water. We ask ourselves over and over, “Can we do this? Can we sell everything and move to Mexico?”

We decide we can afford an initial visit to Todos Santos for 15 days to feel it out—try it on. I know that isn’t much time, but part of the dream has been in place for a long time. Many years prior to our short trip to Todos Santos, we envisioned spending our last years in a warm, coastal environment. It has always been our plan to retire in Costa Rica or Baja Sur. In my gut I know the time is right to create the reality. Sometimes you just have to stop talking.

We celebrate our 31^st anniversary in May of 2010 enjoying our stay in Marita’s Casitas, a sweet spot in Las Tunas, Todos Santos.

Happy Anniversary!

31 Years Together!

Maritas Casitas in Las Tunas

We put our Whidbey Island home on the market in July and in August, during the worst real estate market in memory, it sells. We tell our friends it is a sure sign that our dream is meant to be. Greg’s last day of work is in October that year. We boldly drive away from our former Washington State life on November 1^st, pulling a 4’ X 4’ X 8’ U-Haul trailer containing all of what is left of our worldly possessions, the things we deem impossible to go without.

Packed and ready for the road!

We’re on our Way!

It had to fit in this little bitty trailer.

Everything we Own is in this 4′ X 4 ‘ X 8’ U-Haul Trailer

I cannot say it was easy to purge what had taken 33 years to accumulate. And what an accumulation! I’m sure we had, at one time, excellent reasons for keeping all that stuff. Okay, I confess. It is mostly my fault. I am the worst offender; I am often unable to part with things. But somehow I did it and off we go to our new life. We didn’t know what to expect, but we believed in ourselves.

#5–Todos Santos, Baja California Sur

#4–From So. Cal. to Washington State to Baja Sur

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When I met my husband, Greg, he was a young man in his surfing prime, spending most days at the beach while living in Southern California. Within a year of our acquaintance we were packing up my three sons, his German shepherd, and our few belongings,into an old, green Econoline van and heading up to Washington State. The six of us were one big, happy family starting a new life. So it was that in the Pacific Northwest, Greg took a hiatus from surfing to work and raise his ready-made family.

1979

It wasn’t until twenty-seven years later that he took up surfing again. But the water in Washington is frigid, unlike Southern California, so he had to don booties, gloves, a hood and a 5-4 wetsuit in order to brave the elements. And brave them he did. It didn’t take any time at all for him to get his surfing fever back with a vengeance. After thirty-three years of living in beautiful Washington State, we found ourselves craving the heat of the sun and warm, instead of glacial, ocean waves.

……………………………

When I tell my 94 year old mother we are selling our house and all our belongings in order to move to Mexico, she is unhappy and worried about us. I know she will miss us terribly, even though she lives in San Diego and living in Southern Baja means we won’t be farther away, just in the opposite direction. Mom and I have always been extremely close. I have good memories of being raised by this strong, independent woman. I don’t expect her to truly understand, but it bothers me when she asks, “Why Mexico?” For one thing, it should be obvious that we can’t afford to retire in America. The economy in the US of A is in a miserable state and if a person wants to retire, the monumental task of living without a paycheck requires lots of planning and lots of saving. The experts say you need a million dollars worth of assets, or maybe it’s that they say you need a million dollars in cash. I just can’t see us with a million dollars in assets, let alone cash. Apparently, somewhere along the way you are supposed to make some great investments that will help you to provide for the lifestyle you wish to maintain or create. Most of our investments have been bad ones, so we don’t have anything close to a million dollars. But with a little luck our health will hold out till we can get Medicare and buy supplemental insurance to cover health care costs. I realize that the best insurance is to take good care of ourselves, and follow some common sense rules to eat right, exercise daily and get plenty of rest. Oh, and we must remember to avoid stress! As I write this, I realize how this is exactly what we are doing now. Ah, but none of this explains why it bothers me that Mom asks, “Why Mexico?” You see, I didn’t mention the other thing she says. The very mean and racist thing she adds, which is, “Don’t you know there are Mexicans in Mexico?”

This is the same woman who voted twice for Obama even though she is a Republican. All my life she has reminded me to be humble and to show respect for others, no matter what their ethnicity. Of course I admonish her right then and there. I call her on it, reminding her that she didn’t bring me up to be a racist, and how dare she say such a horrible thing? It shuts her up, but the pain of knowing she could have these thoughts leaves, what I can only describe as, a hole in my heart—a black hole. She has never talked like this and I am dumbfounded, hurt, disappointed and ashamed.

I know I want to love her unconditionally, and of course I do, just as she has always loved me. I guess her “filters” are not in place as much as they used to be, now that she is 98. I just hope I accomplish as much in my life as she has, and do as well as she is doing, if I ever get that far.

Mom holding me in her arms–1946

Looking back, I wonder how many other people are thinking like Mom when we tell them of our plans to chuck it all and move to Baja. Do they just have the good sense to keep those thoughts to themselves? There are most likely some people shaking their heads wondering if we’ve lost our minds. They would like to ask, “Haven’t you listened to the news about Mexico? Of kidnapping and murder?” And in my head I’m hearing Mom’s deplorable question again. I feel the need to shake off this negative energy! Let it go.

Mom and me being silly at the University of Washington 1991

with Mom in 2010

Having fun at The San Diego Zoo in 2014

#3–Camping on the East Cape Part II

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I broke my arm in the ocean one summer while boogie boarding. Not to mention, I’m a chicken by nature, but Greg is always encouraging me get into the water without fear. Now, with his encouragement, I feel more relaxed than ever before. Living so close to the ocean has been healing for me. I’m letting go poco a poco— little by little. In all areas of my life, I am releasing the things that are no longer useful; I’m learning to dismiss dark thoughts and feelings that have previously interrupted my happiness from time to time. The “inner uglies” is how I put it. Why allow myself to be plagued with guilt, regret, jealousy and other negative feelings that have never served me well? I want to let those inner uglies flow up and away to be replaced with peaceful, easy feelings.

In my head an Eric Clapton song repeats, “Let it flow. Let it flow. Let it blossom, let it grow.” These days I will silently ask myself, “Is this how you want it to be?” And if it is not, I’ll just let it go. Breathe slowly and deeply, in and out. With a purposeful breath, I am inhaling life and exhaling whatever is needless.

I used to work with a great woman who, when obstacles got in her way, would just shrug her shoulders and say, “Oh well. That’s life!” Her habit was to accept whatever life threw at her and deal as best she could. And bless her heart; she handled every challenge with a cheerful countenance. She refused to allow anything to dampen her world view. She taught me, “Life happens. Solve the problems, find the fun, and just get on with it.”

For some reason, the fact that she was a science teacher, made her “bring-it-on” attitude seem all the more a miracle to me. I didn’t expect her to appreciate metaphysics.

What is life if not a series of patterns? We find them in science, mathematics, nature, and art. In fact, patterns are the blueprint of the essence of our lives.

Pattern in Stone

Passion Fruit Flower

My mentor modeled the behavior I knew I wanted too. The only thing not allowing me to have satisfaction is me. It’s as simple as that. Now the rubric by which I measure becomes the question, “Is this how you want it to be?” And like I said before, if it is not, then I let it go until it becomes exactly how I want it to be. It really is that simple.

Feeling hungry, I decide to make a cheese and avocado sandwich, with cottage cheese, and a big pile of salty potato chips on the side. I will wash this down with a big glass of red rooibos vanilla tea from our cooler.

A Cactus Bloom

While eating a delicious lunch and listening to the waves crash on the beach,

I know without a doubt, my life in this moment is exactly how I want it to be.

April 22, 2012

Pelicans Gliding

The sun comes up over the ocean on the East Cape. Pelicans glide and dive for their desayuna del mar—breakfast from the sea. Gulp. Gulp. Greg put both umbrellas up before he attached himself to his surfboard for his first session. La playa is wide awake and its inhabitants are engaged in morning activities. One guy is fishing (not catching yet) and there are already nine surfers in the water at 7:00AM. I haven’t been using my exercise bands for a few days, so this morning’s work out has me glistening right away. Back in the saddle again. I’ve spent a good hour taking pictures: rocks, water, surfers, SUPs, burros, and pelicans (or as my friend, Stacee, accidently called them once, penguins). Where the desert meets the sea, the blues and greens of the water juxtapose nicely with the hillocks of sand and desert grasses. This sweet camping spot is dotted with colorful beach umbrellas, and vehicles from Mexico, Canada, France, and many states of the USA.

Our breakfast of corn flakes, bananas and almonds, provide nourishment and satisfaction. We give our dishes a scrub in the ocean, so inevitably we must rinse them in fresh water, which is a precious commodity when you are camping on an undeveloped beach in Baja. Carefully, Greg times his ocean dish-scrubbing, watching the waves constantly roll in and pitch the sand and water. This shore break is a beautiful baptism requiring no further choreographing than in and out, up and down. At this moment a wind turbine in the distance turns ever-so-slowly, coming to a short stop before continuing its rotation. It’s like a “California stop” during a long pause in traffic. Sitting in the shade of my red umbrella as the tide continues to advance, this slight breeze offers refreshment. There is a normal halting of wave sets and all I see are little specks of surfers waiting in the sparkling water for a set. The water is warm, but many of them wear wet suits. Some, like Greg, are merely “trunkin’ it.” Surfers go in; others come out; reminiscent of a bus dropping riders off, all the while welcoming new ones. They share the waves as best they can—these surfers at 9 Palms on the East Cape of Baja Sur. But there are occasional mistakes made, as one drops in on another.

“Sorry buddy.”

“It’s cool, no worries.”

It’s all mellow today; the surfers are not wave hogs here. However, it is not all that unusual to have the opposite experience at a break where the mood is tense and competitive, but for today the egos, turf and wave ownership issues are in check. The surfers remember their kindergarten lesson #1: “Share and be nice!” The sun continues its slow arc in the late morning sky as the wind picks up. It’s a south wind, not as radical as the north winds are. The East Cape is notorious for strong, sustaining north wind. It’s a well-known and beloved wind surfers’ paradise. But not today, thank you very much. At least not yet anyway.

Our camping neighbors to the south of us are friends of ours. It wasn’t a plan to camp together, but it’s a grand happenstance and I am excited now to have someone to play Scrabble with.

Mary and I are both crazy for the game and our husbands hate it. We make plans to have our first challenge this afternoon after Mary and her husband, Jeff, get back from their motorcycle ride into town for internet and cell service. In this world pervasive with communication technology, it is actually a blessing for me to be out of range for a change. No one can call me and vice versa, and no 3G or wireless. One must travel for at least a half an hour, all for the privilege of contacting others by phone or computer. It is a distance I feel no need to cover. After all, I’m retired. Nobody is depending on me for anything. What a joyous freedom! In my former life I dreamed of days and places like this. Greg and I talked often of the possibilities of embracing life in Baja— fishing, surfing, and swimming in warm water with a climate to match, and allowing each day to happen to us. Following the natural rhythms of the sun and the moon. Lots of people have dreams like this, but sadly, too few create the reality. For others, the slowness—the slowing way down—is lethal. They simply suffer without a whirlwind of activity. Perhaps their worth is tied to a job that makes demands on them, and that’s just fine by me. Been there. Done that. No more! I choose, instead, to slow down enough to notice life around me, to feel the wind on my face, to hear the birds singing and the waves crashing on the shore. The in-coming tide brings with it schools of bait fish—sardines are plentiful now, and the pelicans gorge on them. Eat or be eaten. There is one cormorant out there among the pelicans. These birds mimic the surfers. Or maybe it is the other way around? Share and be nice. Ride the waves, dive under them, or simply bob up and down. Now that the tide has pushed in, the rocks are no longer visible; they are only splotches of darkness beneath the water. Some wispy clouds have joined the local scene. A father scoops a handful of sardines from the surf and puts them into his young son’s hands, sharing the wonder of this place with him. Life is so incredibly sweet. Back from his first session, Greg says, “Let’s go for a swim.” There is a big slathering of happiness in the way he says this. “Why not? I’m game.” We walk to a less rocky spot and quickly advance into the water to a small drop off. We float and I do my dog paddle, splashing in the refreshing (not cold) water at the edge of the drop. “Stay in the deep part,” Greg instructs me. I appreciate his directions in this setting. The ocean is his second home.

Balance

Life itself is a lot like an ocean. You have one minute, hour, day, week, or month of happiness, like you are at the crest of the wave, loving the ride. And then bam! Next you find yourself being held down at the bottom, coughing, choking, and starving for a breath of air, as the wave of life overtakes you. It is an ebb and flow; stormy or calm, and with other days that fall somewhere in-between. Just as the ocean offers us possibilities and challenges, so does life, when it invites us to ride its waves.

And like a surfer, we need to learn how to balance.

Moving on down the road

For all of us, life’s road is a series of turns, ups and downs, and many places in between. Life provides us with stories; some we read and some we tell. In this moment, with a passion for writing about life, I begin my blog.

The first eleven posts are meant to be read in order.

Baja California Sur and more!

WELCOME TO MY BAJA WORLD

#6–Dreaming of a Beach Life in Baja

#5–Todos Santos, Baja California Sur

#4–From So. Cal. to Washington State to Baja Sur

#3–Camping on the East Cape Part II