DEAR ALIZARIN: The clouds are gone

From clear and cold Seattle, I landed in a cloudy, rainy, cold Los Angeles. Nonetheless, sitting with my winter coat still on outside LAX, waiting for the FlyAway shuttle, I don't think I ever felt so happy to be back in Los Angeles. My life waiting for me to re-enter.

After a rejuvenating sleep in my own bed, I awoke to a still gloomy LA and wit a still renewed love of my home.
Despite the power outage in the middle of the night, I automatically woke up in time to make it to choir practice. Despite the chaos of the service (last minute change of the anthem, false starts for the introit), I had a sense of coming home to my life -- fulfilling and imperfect. My friend and fellow alto, Christine, was the lay speaker for this Sunday and gave a wonderful sermon about the role that practice plays in our lives -- we practice careers, we practice our spirituality, we practice living each moment, never reaching perfection but hopefully progressing into better people. Thus my life in LA, or anywhere I would happen to be, is a practice. An practice requires attention and dedication. Thus, while in LA, I cannot be living an imaginary, more perfect life in NYC or Seattle, I must be here.

Following the service and coffee hour, I head to Trader Joe's to stock up my pathetically empty fridge. Unlike the dangerous Fairway Market of NYC nor requiring a long walk, I cheerfully browsed the shelves of Trader Joe's in peace. In the check out I even chatted with the cashier and bagger about the coffee quality in Seattle, Eugene and LA. Arriving home, I get a call from Grooveva inviting me on a hike. Just want I need. I cook myself a healthy lunch of stir fried mixed greens, carrots, and mushroom burger. Grooveva and I enjoy a bit of coffee before heading up to Griffith Park.

After the rain, we were rewarded with an exceptionally clear day in Los Angeles.
Also unusually cool. As always, we quickly found the fast and steep trail up to the top of the ridge. We took the Bee Rock trail, which included a stretched basically required crawling uphill under some branches. We made it to the road and headed in what I surmised to be the direction to the summit point. It was, just the very long way, looping around the other side of the mountain, over razorback trail, and then up to the lookout.

From there we could see everything from downtown, the Griffith Observatory, to the Pacific Ocean and the Hollywood sign. All, for once, without the usual thick layer of LA smog. I inhaled the cool air, the view, and thanked the universe for bringing me safely home. We descended the mountain in the purple orange of a grand sunset.


What more could I ask for in a 10 minute ride from my home.

Today, Erica called for a hike. We left later, took a slightly varied path up to the pinnacle point for an even more stunning sunset. (I did not bring my camera). We descended via razorback, leaving us walking the windy road down in the dark. I looked down and watched the glowing freeways winding through the city and reveled in the peace of our mountain haven.

We realized taking our leisurely time down as night moved into the city might not be so wise. Our cars, otherwise alone in the parking lot, were surrounded by five cop cars, an old-model sports car, and several boys in jeans and hoodies, handcuffed, each being questioned by an officer. Sadly, these boys reminded me of my students and I wondered if they were really up to something, or just fit the profile. We safely got into our unharmed cars and, as I drove away, the refreshing feeling of the hike lingered through the evening.

Alas, vacation time is ending. I am rejuvenated, but never quite ready get back to my 'real' work, the one that pays my bills, but the time has come. At least I will have yoga, my lovely loft, and Griffith Park to slip off the stress of the day to day.