Prescott College

                                                                                           

During our recent trip to Prescott, I went to my old college campus and walked around. It felt so good to be there again. I love Prescott College (PC.) I got to talk with a couple of staff while on campus (masked and ten feet apart) and got an update on the status of my undergrad college. I was happy to learn that PC was thriving. There have been new buildings erected over the years including a lovely library and student housing (I had to find my own apartment in town when I was there), supporting the growth from under two hundred students in 197 to approximately one thousand now. I was especially happy to learn that the school still does it's unique orientation. Three weeks backpacking in the wilderness, with two guides and a handful of other new students including a three day vision quest. That was a challenging but most memorable experience. Cody and I were in the same orientation group together and it was during those three weeks our decades long friendship formed. I said to Don multiple times that I would be thrilled if the girls would attend a college like PC, where most of the coursework is in the field. Where learning is not dedicated by a professor standing and lecturing but rather from student participation in designing curriculum, assigning ways to demonstrate their knowledge and keeping a portfolio of each course to document their learning. Both my kids are bit rebellious like their parents and a non-traditional college like PC would suit them both.

However the thing that stood out most when visiting the campus was a deep sense of sadness when I drove away. It was deep and strong and thick, the sadness constricting on my heart. I took some deep breaths in my belly and let the feelings arise. It was then that I realized that not only PC allow me to learn in the way that best served who I was (not some boxed formula like at state schools) but the community also felt like home. I grew up in a place where I never really fit in. I found myself going to Dead Shows at the age of 15. I was marching in D.C., against Apartheid and for women's rights while still in high school. While most of my peers were concerned about hair, makeup, the object of their sexual desire, I was a new vegetarian, looking at ways to fight the system or hanging out in woods getting high, until I suddenly got clean and sober. 

I never belonged and never fit in in my hometown. My parents did not take us camping or hiking. My spirituality was limited to the Jewish faith. I hated shopping and getting my nails done felt like that would be torture. When I landed in Prescott, to study and live, I found a place where people loved the earth, fought for social justice and cared about wholistic living. I embrace both Eastern and Native spirituality. With peers who I resonated with, we rode mountain bikes and made sour dough bread. I felt like I had finally found a place I belonged. I was no longer the odd, black sheep. I had found a place where I would eventually meet my tribe and one day in the future,  PC would be part of getting me to California, where I would eventually attend graduate school, meet Don and finally, my life long desire to be a mom would manifest into reality,

I never realized the full impact moving to Prescott for college had on me until that day I drove out of the parking lot thirty three years after I first arrived. These realizations led to later conversations with the girls about living a life that was authentic and in a place that matched the values of your heart and soul. I talked with Amara and Havana about never settling, about always following and living your truth.  That visit to my old campus turned out to be so much more than a nostalgic visit. It seemed like decades later PC was still teaching me most valuable lessons.

Ongtupqa (the Grand Canyon)

I first laid eyes on Ongtupqa (the Hopi' word for the Grand Canyon) when I was seventeen years young. I was fresh out of my New York high school and that life altering trip in the four corner states steered me on the path I was meant to trod. (see https://twosmallgems.blogspot.com/2012/05/one-love-one-heart.html for that part of my life story. )  

During those remarkable four weeks in the Southwest, I was blessed to be invited to the third mesa, home of the Hopi. It was there that saw the Kachina rain dance that blew my mind. Had I not witnessed with my own eyes, I would have never believed that a blue, cloudless skies could shift in a minutes to a powerful hailstorm and rain. From that moment on, a deep, unbreaking respect for the Hopi people was formed. To this day, I see them knowing ones; those who know the truth about this earth and honor the ways of walking in balance.

 

Photo of original painting of a Kachina dancer.

From my time learning and exploring around the four corners, I would be led to Prescott College, which in turn took me back to the Hopi Reservation a handful more times. I broke bread with a family there, watched in awe and gratitude more Kachina dances and even danced to the hypnotic beat at concert of Third World, the Jamaican reggae band (the Hopi love reggae and I was just a few months into the twelve years of having dreadlocks. But that is another story!)

One of the things I learned from the Hopi was that when the human physically dies, the soul goes to live in Ongtupqa. I was lucky to be in Arizona when some influential people I knew died and I found myself going to the canyon, to pray and meditate on the soul of the one who transitioned. There were also times when family and/or friends would come to visit and we'd make the drive north, so I could share the magnificent wonder of the Ongtupqa. 

Eventually, I left Arizona and my life moved in different directions. I would return now and again to Prescott to finish up my degree (through their distance learning Adult Degree Program) but it had been many years since I had visited that awe inspiring canyon. My heart and soul felt a longing to return for many years but sadly, I was unable to make the trek until just recently. And that was perhaps the most special of visits of all to Ongtupqa, because with me I had my two small gems and I got to witness them see the glory of that place for the very first time. Don had been on an eight day Colorado River rafting trip with his family some years back and saw the canyon from the bottom and a bit through a helicopter when they left but he had never seen her from the top. So for him too, it was a first. For those who have visited, you know there is nothing quite like her anywhere on Mother Earth. 

I feel most fortunate. In this life, I have led a life of service, which has meant that material gains was not the goal. And yet, I am most blessed in so many ways including being able to raise my girls in a way that not honors and cherishes Mother Earth but a life that has allowed us to visit some of the grand places, like Ongtupqa. My heart and soul are happy now, having made a visit after far too long and I felt that the canyon was happy too, for my return and for bringing with me two small gems, who now love her as equally as I do.

Iriezona~Ten Years Later (2010 & 2020)

Almost exactly tens years ago, Don and I set off with two small gems on our first road trip to Iziezona (that was the nickname I gave Arizona when I was sporting dreads and traveling back and forth to Jamaica, immersed in the Rasta way of life.) In our new (used) SUV, we loaded up the too many things to make the twelve hour drive as comfortable as can be with a 1 & 3 year old in tow. We spent a week exploring my old college hometown including sacred grounds where I once played, prayed, learned and grew. The girls at 11 & 13 have no memory from that adventure, other than a photo book and stories. Fortunately, Uncle Cody came out a few years ago and they made new memories that they could retain in their older brains. But now, with fires and pandemics, we decided to hit the road and visit the same places and some new ones along the way. Being me, I had took many new photos in the same places we visited a decade ago. Here we are, then and now.

                                                                                       

                                                         

                                                                                   

Scenes from Quarantine-Part 8 (Road Trip)

We are in a pandemic that seems to go on and on, due in part to our government terribly handling things.  But politics remains politrix as the country we live in is more divided than ever.  After months of being in self-quarantine, there was the video of yet another Black man being murdered by a police officer. The result was weeks of justified protest.  If all this divisive chaos was not enough, summer came and fire season started. Historic fires raged across California, as if symbolically burning down all the darkness and chaos of 2020. There were days when the eerie orange skies felt like we were for sure in the end times. There were weeks when we not even able to venture into our own backyard due to health concerns. 

The confinements have caused increased depression and irritability, as well as headaches from the fires (thankfully, only I suffer from those.)  To support our mental, emotional, spiritual and physical health, we opted to pack up the Pilot and head to the mountains of Central Arizona (or Iriezona as I lovingly call her), where I went to undergrad school. It was in 1987 that feel deeply in love with the earth and sky of the mountains and desert that surround Prescott. Something in my heart and soul resonates as equally with this part of the world as I do with the Caribbean. The two are extreme opposite but both places leave a feel of 'ah' deep in my heart and soul. The girls did not remember their first and only visit exactly ten years ago. Now, we'd experience this sacred land and make new memories that they would recall.

Our initial plans to visit family for a week first fell through. We were all disappointed. I talked to the girls about divine order and going with the flow.  I thought of that old saying, 'Make plans and Creator laughs."  I reassured the girls things always work out as they are meant to be. With our change of plans, last minute things fell into place and off we went. Through the long drive south, where the skies were filled with smoke, almost to the border, we all felt a sense of relief, that deepened the further we drove. Like the heavy psychic weight of months at home and skies filled with smoke were being peeled away with every mile along the freeway. 

Before we left, I had to find a last minute Airbnb.  There were too many choices. Trusting my intuition, I picked a place that I felt would be restful and peaceful.  Verification from our host, Charlie, assured us of our most important need. Wifi! As long as we could connect to a decent speed, our distant quarantine would be a success. When we arrived to our place, just on the outskirt of town, the ponderosas greeted us. My heart slowed and I took a grateful, deep breath.  I just knew that our decision to return to this special place was correct.

While we unpacked, we met our host, who lived in the main house above. Charlie, we'd come to learn was kind, even keeled and generous.  I was worried our naturally loud selves would disturb him. But he reassured us that with working outside the home during the day, it should be okay. I often tell the girls that one of the gifts of traveling is meeting strangers. Strangers who sometimes become acquaintances or sometimes even friends. Charlie did not remain a stranger long. We spoke a bit when he'd return in the evening and not surprising, there were parallels that ran through our lives. I mentioned his kindness. One evening, not too long after I pondered having to go the laundromat (something I was dreading), he asked us if we needed to do laundry. He offered us the use of his washer/dryer.  When I asked about the need to see a medical professional, he went out of his way to connect me w/ a personal friend who could assist me.  But the most generous thing was when I told him we'd be taking the drive around dirt round circling Thumb Butte. He offered us the use of his 1967 Nissan Patrol. Don was initially cautious but once he got the hang of it he had blast as did we all.  The hour we spent driving and stopping for views was good rx. I loved sharing the the land of a place I love with the people I love. To be able to share part of my history, a time so influential in my life, with my girls left me deeply grateful. Who knew then, that all those years later, I would one day return with my two small gems in tow.

It turned out that with us working/schooling, we were pretty quiet too. We all found our corners to settle down in with computers, books and headphones. We put away our few personal items when we first arrived and claimed our sleeping places. Then it was quiet. Even with houses around us, it was blissfully silent. I recall the first morning, when I got up while everyone was still asleep. I walked down the road, admiring how folks had space in between their house (unlike the Bay Area, where you can literally see through your neighbors windows and yards are like shoe boxes) and that trees were abundant. I found a trail and walked only a short distance for I also noticed the elevation. At over 5000ft, it would take a few days to acclimate. But throughout the day, having such a peaceful, quiet setting, I would take my few breaks by walking up and down the road. On several occasions, I was meet with wildlife. I knew I was happy as I didn't leave without my camera. That is always an indication of my mood. And, I found myself asking myself multiple times, 'Why did I ever leave this place?' I knew the logical answers. I accepted the divine path/plan for my life. Yet, in my heart and soul, I felt like the land there was where I could see making a home again. 

Remember, when I mentioned that things always work out? Well, Aunt Liz and Uncle Dick (who we were scheduled to spend time with prior to Arizona), had to travel to Phoenix to help Aunt Liz's mom and stepdad. Even though that situation had it's challenges, they were able to drive up and spend an afternoon with us. We walked around the downtown square, ordered pizza to go (which was surprisingly the best pizza I had outside of New York) and sat in front of our Airbnb, visiting and breaking bread. It was a short but very sweet visit. Things really do work out. 

The first days of our distant quarantine went by quickly. We were working/schooling so there was no sightseeing or much leisure time. But the chance to get out in the early morning hours or at night, be it in nature or downtown was just perfect. To just be in a beautiful change of scenery truly was the best thing for heart/mind/soul. I was sad when we had to pack up and head out. We would have another week to go, with a weekend in the Grand Canyon and Sedona first (and then another Airbnb) but something about that sweet house, with trees and birds and wind that would rush in sounding like the ocean, left me sad and wishing we had more time. Who knows, maybe one day that part of the world may just find us calling it home.

 Thumb Butte can be seen from almost any angle in town. I lived in the woods below the Butte years ago and on many full moons, I'd hike to the top. I last drove the surrounding dirt road in the early 90's.