Some days are delicious in their softness. A new wine. A long cuddle with my furry cat. A hot spiced soup.
I woke up contented after a late night with friends. Dinner started at 10pm. We ate slices of raw beef with capers. Twirled long noodles. And I sang “Happy Birthday” in Spanish with about 60% accuracy.
Originally, I imagined travelling the world with my work. But I’ve decided to bring my students here. The desire solidified for me, on the bus home from the airport, when I felt my whole body relax. And I realized what a gift it would be to introduce people to Southern Spain.
Life here is small but magical. I wake up to red tiled rooftops and church bells. There are no screens on my windows. And Kitteh perches like a Gargoyle overlooking the historic city. Scooters whiz by at a slightly lesser speed than Italy. And I often have to step quickly into a doorwell to allow a car to pass on the narrow cobblestone streets.
There is not the same hierarchy of value here. At the party we talked about food, language, sex, pokemon, black stockings, tiramisu, and swear words. I left with everyone’s phone number without any idea of their profession.
Granada embodies a lot of what I teach. That if you learn how to be fully you, there is never a lack of love. That it is not necessary to be rich, or thin, or have something to trade. What matters is your access to your passion, curiosity, deepest heart, and sense of humor. If people can feel you, they can trust you. And within that trust there is a different type of safety. One that is born from delight and interconnectedness.
Here, I have been validated that there is nothing to manipulate or out smart in life. There is simply pulling the string that unwinds all the learning and pretense, until you can be seen fully nude. Exquisite and strong in your fragility. Unique and exciting. Seen as delicious, not because of the chase, but because you can be tasted.