The original cairn guy, who i had wanted to meet and interview, was there, inside the sanctuary he made. He was building such incredible stacks, and we were all practicing pratyahara, and combing the shoreline for debris. There was no time for conversation.
He told me, after i made this one: "Wow! You made one, your first! Take a picture, now you're famous!"
How could i tell him, that was my thirty-second one, and that i'd attempted even more, that never stayed up. That i'd made almost 11 in this exact same space. That i'd made some in Suisun Valley, tying to reflect on the shambles of my life with the backdrop of a never-ending green field. At the foot of a waterfall in Cascade Park, wondering if i'll ever transcend this rut, thinking about how much this looked like Cayo and wasn't.
On the top of Donahue, overlooking all the challenges that never fully held me down and the tip of Mt. Shasta and that Sausalito view? Made one on the border of Cayo and Stann Creek districts in St. Margaret's Creek. In a creek, my first, just like i'd seen on instagram, but done my me. i had no faith in myself that i even could. And in the presence of two of Belize's best creative minds? Two artists whose work ethic mirror the behemoth feats of on-call surgeons at emergency rooms, 24 hour shift labourers? YM and MG, the BINOMIUM of Belize City. 2 reasons why, i defend myself and others from the cultural apathy we try to cloak ourselves in, knowing full well, ih too hat fuh dat da Belize." We don't use cloaks, mere long sleeves are close to martyrdom.
How to tell him, that maybe, these structures, and yoga, saved me?
i couldn't. There was no need to.
This journey through mind space, gravity, balance, instability, beauty, chaos, death and rebirth, is mine to know and i am still unable to fully explain it.
So i smile. i do take the silly photo. As i do, i wonder if i take them as a record, to show off, or to preserve success that won't last. Gravity, wind and other elements determine that.
And i do post it to instagram, when i get to the wifi and i am not famous. Fame was never the objective. Surviving a mental illness in Belize, is pure infamy and surely cured me from seeking fame, much less attention of any kind.
How to tell him, i wish i could hide under the rocks, or be as solid, against the opinions and will of others?
i say nothing. Meditation after all requires the stillness, the quiet, the surrender from justification, explanation and "truth."
Aren't we all right and all wrong anyway?