Yesterday I spent the day in Cotacachi with my friend Charles, who was helping me with translation in a meeting I had been trying to secure since March. It is too soon to talk about what happened, or even why the meeting took place and with whom, but it was important. A year ago yesterday, a friend and her husband drove me and Mali to the Calgary airport. I held onto to her so tight, the tears flowing as I said goodbye not only to her, but to a life that I didn’t understand, yet couldn’t fathom leaving. Yet there I was, waiting for my plane, my mind a bit numb from the many details I needed to remember, the many activities leading me to this moment, completely overwhelmed by what I was facing. I think of those moments in the terminal everyday, grateful for the beautiful send off from this woman who showed me such consideration and care. Alone at last, I struggled with my fear, it seemed impossible that I would make it.
Yesterday I left Mali outside as I made my way to the bus, content as I crossed the bridge she would not follow me. The significance without planning it, this meeting should happen on this day, made the trip more important somehow. The meeting was scheduled for last week, but was cancelled, and so serendipity seemed to playing her hand. Just before I made it to the top of the hill where the road takes me into Apuela, I turned (instinct making me stop and check) to see Mali racing up the hill behind me. Taking her back was not an option if I wanted to catch the bus and make my meeting. I was distraught, the choice before me not welcome. She was so happy to have caught up with me, I was frustrated she chose to follow. I had to think of the last few times I went to town, when we got separated, me not knowing where to look for her, panicking at the thought of not finding her. But in each case, her fear at being in a difficult situation being close to the aggressive dogs in town she could not face, she went to a place on the street half way up the hill, where she knew she was safe and waited for me. It was a place I had to pass by on my way back home.
As I climbed on the bus I had to trust she would be fine, and indeed about half way to the city after I had cried and prayed for her safety, I realized how much we both had changed. This allowed my to let go of my fear and trust she would be safe at home, waiting for me. How much we have both grown out of our fears, while not completely gone, they are much diluted, our strength and independence growing.
Below is a before and after image of me. The first taken at the Toronto airport just before I went to the boarding lounge. The second taken here last week. I am not fond of getting my picture taken, but I took this one the other day to see if there has been an outward change in me, after a year of self discovery. I’m not sure there is much if any – maybe you will see what I can’t though.
I have watched Mali inch her way to the freedom of her independence, proud to see her enjoy herself as she wanders the grounds of our safe environment. She has gone from the need to be with me all the time, to spending hours with the other dogs begging, exploring or just sleeping. While she is not really one of them, there is acceptance on all their parts with our new found family. Scrappy, Chiripa, Scott and Sophia crave what Mali has had her whole life – love, affection and respect for her presence in my life. She still has a bit of trouble sharing me, but the 6 of us have all changed in ways perhaps imperceptible to others.
As I left my meeting yesterday with Charles, coming down the stairs, my attention was drawn to a man with his back to me. On the vest he was wearing, a small patch with the image of Che Guevara on it looked back at me. As I am one to notice signs, big, small or in between, I understood the importance of seeing the smiling face of this man who brought me to Ecuador on the anniversary of the very day I boarded my plane to leave the country I called home for almost 60 years. I pointed this man and his vest, out to Charles, who surprised me by understanding also the significance of seeing Che’s image as we left our meeting.
Will the discussion we had be fruitful and give me the change I have been hoping for? I do not wish to put that kind of pressure on the ideas which led me to the man I spoke to, rather I feel I must let what was said breathe, finding it’s own way without my interfering thoughts. Since coming to Ecuador I have learned many things, such as patience, understanding, forgiveness, and hope, all things I believed I already had a good handle on. There are different degrees of all these things, something new with each circumstance we face. The situations threatening to overwhelm me a year ago, are less difficult today, something I proudly realized as I rode the bus home last night. Just as realizing so much of my anger came from fear, I now know that deep love for someone, even if you have spent little time with them, can bring you home. If home is where the heart is, then there is no greater gift to be received, than that of discovering you are loved. While it may not feed your body, it does feed your soul, it is our strength, courage and everything beautiful in our life – it is all that matters.
When I saw this picture the other day, a feeling of walking from darkness into the light struck me. Such a simple idea, a picture which could be taken by many others in different locations, different ways, and perhaps with different reasons behind them. But the energy of this photo was deeply felt by me. I have often thought over the months when having small conversations with my son, how our paths seem to be running parallel, so many of our experiences shockingly similar. There is comfort in knowing this somehow, as if by hearing his troubles or concerns, I am hearing myself talking. Suddenly there is no need to share what I thought was necessary with him. Hearing him, would allow me to let go of my own worries and help him through his. The anger felt because of my fears, as a result dissipating, the magic of understanding filling in the empty space in doing so.
My direction still uncertain, my hopes often dwindling, my fears still creeping into my peace, still a daily contention, but taking up less space as I go from one day to the next. The light is much closer now as I leave the tunnel holding so many secrets and deceptions. It seems to me our ability to leave the tunnel comes from facing what we thought was too big for us to deal with, realizing we gave it more credence than it deserved. Last year as I said good-by to my friends, I wanted them to tell me “don’t go, stay, quite this foolishness”. But no one did, they were happy to see me go, to make this journey, and of course they were right. Growing up as I did, I worried, their not asking me to stay meant they did not care, a problem they were happy to be free of, a lifetime of believing I had no value, not worthy of someone’s concern, all I knew. So yes I do hang onto those fierce hugs as I said good-bye, they are some very special and important moments in my life. They are instruments of change for a better way of thinking and being. Can any of us ask more than that out of life.
As I walked down the hill to my cabina, I prayed, knowing if Mali was not there I would be lost. Sophia greeted me first, then I saw Miss Mali, who had her ears back and was stepping forward cautiously. I suppose she thought she was in trouble for disobeying an order, being abandoned as I got on the bus without her an indication of how bad she had been. But I was overjoyed, calling her to me and telling her how happy I was to see her, how much I loved her. Scrappy and Scott had joined us by now and it was chaotic, Mali unwilling to share me in this moment of reunion. Trust, it is a valuable gift, uncertainty, it’s destructive counterpart…….
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