Updated: Feb 27
Allow me to introduce Sierra.
"Whoa, concrete". My eyes are closed and I assume she is tripping out on how its made or the weirdness of its existence in the middle of the desert. She has this inflection when she thinks something is cool or is inspiring to her that tugs at my heart, making me want to see whatever she is seeing. I open my eyes. The concrete has veins that are flowing with purple tendrils. "whoa, concrete"
Its often the case that I find myself in situations with Sierra that most people would prefer to not be in. Building a fire in the rain in the mountains of Colorado, being carried away by mosquitoes at the Yalui Village in south Texas, wandering around house-less camps at night distributing the last of rescued food, all of these situations with my two dynamic kiddos in tow. Being out in the wild and unpredictable world, exposed to life has become something of a church for us. We refer to it as catching a wind and it is where we go to worship. In this case we were in the desert in Mexico lit up on Peyote, out of water, and without transportation, lounging on the ruins of an abandoned art museum (no kids).
As a result, we have become brilliant partners and enjoyed some seriously epic beauty. The skills of being adaptable, and qued into whatever dope opportunity is in front of us makes chores like picking up a car from the mechanic or cooking a meal for my crazy mom a deeply enriching experience. When we are together, I know the foods going to be good, there will be art or dance, its going to be real, and nature will be top priority. And blessing above all blessings, she loves the shit out of my kids.
The way that we live life together is the way I want to live life. When I am out of sync with myself and I want a trip or an experience or conversation or a project to bring me back, my heart asks for her.
I met sierra when we were kids. She came to my neighbor's birthday party. She kicked him really hard in the shin. Hard enough to leave a bruise and become a story for the rest of my childhood.
The next time we met, I was 19, she was 16. We were in the same friend group, none of whom we still are close with. From then on we grew up together, she was my little sister, annoying but mine. I was her big sister, a know it all but hers. As we have grown up the roles have fallen away but there is that deep safety and knowing that comes from a relationship formed in childhood.
Sometimes we live together, we adventure together, solve problems together, process our feelings insights and self discovery together, and wrangle the boys together. Sometimes she disappears. She stops responding to texts messages and its silent for months, or even years. I fucking hate it. It hurts. It sucks. but really whatever. I offer acceptance as homage paid for intimacy. Its not just acceptance, its knowing and honoring. I can't say exactly what she feels when she ghosts but I know my own feelings. I sometimes feel like I don't want to be seen or like I am somehow a mismatch for my relationships. It might be because I'm working through a thing or I'm not especially proud of how I am living. For me, its often that I am overworking and numbing myself to life. That feeling in me makes me want to hide or cling and just generally feel twisted up about connecting. Many of you have waited for days for a text response from me. Its not about you, and Sierra's thing isn't about me. That recognition saves the relationship.
We often avoid each other when we are in relationships with people that we know aren't right for us. If you are dating one of us and the other isn't around... it doesn't bode well for you.
Sierra is an only child so that is also probably a thing.
In this relationship and in many others I recognize my unquenchable longing to go deep with people. I'm going to outerspace, to the core of the earth, in exploration of my own soul... Whose with me?! Maybe its a trauma response, maybe its a gift, probably both. When I meet someone who has the capacity I long for those journey's with them. There is no greater grace than to have that longing met with a "ya, I'm down, let's go". I hear Sierra's voice as I type those words.
When we reconnect the re-connection includes whatever was missed. Everything that she did or was, everything that I did or was gets folded into what there is to discover in front of us. She is one of the most emotionally healthy people I know, and one of the few I know who had a lovely supportive childhood. This makes reconciliations and moving through conflict really easy. There isn't a lot of bullshit, at least on her side.
Last night, I walked up on her dancing with a bike rack, spinning around it and leaping over it like it was her partner. She does that, partners with things in her environment, with life itself, with a musical instrument. like "hey you, guitar, lets be buddy's or lovers for a while". Then she relishes, explores, obsesses and just really gets into it.
She is very physically strong, and the last few days I've been seeing her lift boxes and carts of water bottles. She has been on task with me this last week. Helping me run extremely tedious errands, being my driver, my rescuer, helping with the boys and a sidekick on the many missions of my week, handling things like a boss that are actually mine to handle.
The mood has shifted, today she is full of grace and spirit. Its beautiful. I can feel she has passed through something in her own inner world and is becoming something new. There is a rawness and a vulnerability coupled with another level of wisdom and maturity. She is dropped in and tender. A potential in her is coming to light to be realized. Its cool to see.
Also, plug, she is a nursery owner and a native landscape consultant in Austin. Hit her up if you want food and butterflies and dope water management in your yard. https://www.lahuertanursery.com/