La Vecindad in the Desert

I’ve been trying to write this blog post for the past couple of weeks now and my loss for words has kept me away. Writing and deleting. Writing and deleting. I’ve been trying to write something smart, something impactful but it never came. Each time I typed something up and reread it, it felt forced. That’s what happens when you try too hard, it feels forced and artificial. So . . . now here I am again trying to post, trying to not force myself and trying to quiet down the fearful voice that keeps nagging at me. Here’s my next try at blog posting . . . just me and the beginning of my day.
This morning I found myself walking in the middle of a green desert. I drove a few blocks out behind my house and came to a nice surprise. At the end of a cul-de-sac was the entrance to open desert. The heavy rains have turned our usual browns and grays into greens, light and dark. The harsh and unbroken dirt has opened up for the rivers of water that search for outlets. In front of me bunnies dart from bush to bush. I think they’re cute and try to make myself silent and invisible as I get closer, they think I want to hurt them and run away from me. If they only knew that I, too, am scared to get too close. I keep walking and they keep hopping, both of us curious but from afar. My legs hurt as they step up and then down on the miniature mountain of dirt, immediately I think about having to go through it again on my way back and wonder when the pain will subside, chemotherapy ended three weeks ago. The joshua trees are particularly interesting today, maybe it’s that the sky is clear and the sun is just the right amount of bright. Maybe it’s the billions of raindrops that have fallen on them. Of maybe it’s just me trying to actively find beauty. Something, anything to get me out of La Vecindad.
La Vecindad is what I’ve decided to call the voices in my head in an effort to try and separate myself from them. “You are not your thoughts,” they say so this is what I’ve decided to do: visualize the characters in La Vecindad and hopefully put some distance between my thoughts and myself. La Vecindad literally means The Neighborhood but spoken in Spanish the word vecindad brings up an image of people coming together to gossip about the goings on of the neighborhood that inevitably creates chaos. However, the vecindad that I am referring to is one that is composed of a set of unique characters in the Mexican comedy show, El Chavo del Ocho. Each character is a voice in my head, they talk and talk but now that I have named them I can take control of my response to eat one of them. There’s the angry Don Ramon, shallow Doña Florinda, smart but conservative Professor Girafales, greedy Kiko, mean Chilindrina, all-about-me Popis, and of course fearful and naive Chavo. Sometimes it’s only one of them making a racket up there, other times a two people conversation but there are those times when they decide to throw a party and I can’t seem to figure out what is going on or who I need to talk to.
That’s what happened yesterday, there was a party going on up in La Vecindad and I couldn’t get them to quiet down. I took myself away but because they were still up this morning I decided to distract them by changing up our usual walking route. I pulled out my phone, swiped left and started shooting. In the distance I notice my neighbor’s house. Amused for having found the desert we’ve been staring at for months from behind the locked gate of our neighborhood, I snapped a picture and sent it to my husband. A fallen joshua tree peaks my interest. An odorous purple flowered plant calls to me and I follow. A coyote hiding behind a row of joshua trees makes my heart beat a little faster but settles down as I get closer and realize it’s only the stump of a tree. A couple more pictures and it’s time to go, my legs tell me. It’s only been about fifteen minutes but for my legs its seems as though it’s been an hour. They’ve been fifteen minutes well spent.

Because leaving breadcrumbs on the sidewalk would be useless, I try to take note of the streets as I drive home from the desert. There’s really not much that will come from my trying, my inner compass is off center and always makes me lost.

Tomorrow when I try to find the desert again who knows where I might end up.

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s