I have arrived

"The Life of a Teacher is as important a life as any person may live. Viewed broadly, it is a life of leadership in a world of contradictions and crises. It is a particularly human life, one of total involvement with human beings as they face human questions." Morris Mitchell

I smile at the young woman flipping through her quote book as she realizes why she feels slightly nervous as she steps into her new role as an educator in a multi-faceted, constantly blooming art education project on the shores of one of the world's most extraordinary lakes. San Marcos La Laguna, Solola, Guatemala. This is her home for the next year of her life; the next year of possibly sharing in the creation of something meaningful in a world that daily surprises us with the range of beauty and violence, harmony and dissonance, intention and apathy, awareness and careless breath. Perhaps it is the state of the world that makes her approach this opportunity with suitable concern. Yes, I am talking about myself in third-person. Witnessing myself as a human being from a place outside myself helps me to remain compassionate toward this young woman who is learning. Day by day. Learning. Witnessing myself in this way allows me to admit that I am feeling simultaneously ecstatic and nervous about all this Cambalacha year will be. Simultaneously capable and unprepared. Simultaneously courageous and hesitant.

Jane writes to me this morning and helps me understand from where these contradictory sentiments arise. Her words could not be more pertinent as I sit to attempt articulation, attempt fininte detail, attempt a written expression of the experiences I am living in the first days since my arrival. She sees inside the red walls of my heart -- expanding and contracting, as I encounter the first demon of the journey. A "wailing doubt" that so often arises at the beginning of a journey and causes one to question her ability to do what it is she whole-heartedly wants to do. A "wailing doubt" that interrogates a person's creative energy with judgements of "good" and "bad" and "success" and "failure." "This is the doubt that tempts you to narrow what you see about what you can do or be at La Cambalacha," says Jane. The word "tempt" is key because it signals a release of accountability -- the possibility that one would release herself from the challenge of accountability. Of accountability to herself. Allowing her to fabricate a story that she is really not as creative as the rest and cannot be expected to hold her own amongst a group of such dynamic persons and perhaps she should not hold so much responsibility and ... so on and so forth as the snowball rolls and gathers momentum. This doubt that arises is an obstacle of my mind; a convincing illusion; something I have the fortunate opportunity to encounter with the fierce grace of Kali -- courage, compassion, strength and dedication. I have arrived at La Cambalacha. A community. An art school. A conscious education project that believes in the power of Art to change the world -- one person at a time, one day at a time, one seed at a time, one question at a time, one step at a time. I have arrived. Dancing. Singing. Sewing. Painting. Laughing. Drumming. Singing. Sharing. Creating. Growing. Learning together. I have arrived. Signing a contract for one year of living and breathing children, early mornings, dance floor inventions, middle of the night revelations, hard work, colorful play, coffee harvests, mango feasts, lessons in balance, exploration. I have arrived. Entering into the undulating rhythm of the lake and afternoon winds. Commiting to the constant, thrilling, simultaneouly exhausting and energizing pulse of La Cambalacha. Crystalizing details to follow.