The Beauty of Transitions ~ Beginner's Mind

That’s what I’ve got, being back in the *first world*, hometown DC, after two and a half years away - Beginner's Mind - the sweet side of Transitions. Everything that was once old has a shiny new sheen, like the Greek medallion necklace that sat in my jewelry box in storage for these last couple of years. I pull it out and clasp it on; it’s dazzling, doesn’t even need polishing, ensembles well with the khaki blazer I liberate from dry-clearer plastic and a pair of brand new strappy ComfortOne sandals I never had a chance to wear before shipping off to the Peace Corps. 

What a change from Chocos. I feel elegant and ready for happy hour on the New U, which finally lives up to its name.  The neighborhood has exploded with life, trendy, spendy, way-too-cool-for-school youts, loud-talkers, hill-walkers. I really can't afford a teeny-ini cocktail in this part of town on a post-Peace Corps Volunteer salary of zero and a well-honed rural Mexican ‘codo’ (el cheapo) mindset.  I’m used to 15 pesito cervezas (a little over a buck a beer) at Rita’s bar, my local Rioverde watering hole. Though until I met Rita, I wasn’t exactly welcomed into the cantinas – for men and ‘mala mujeres’ (i.e., prostitutes) only.  So I was confined to drinking my cerveza and an occasional tequila in my Diaz Rincon, my tiny apartment on the edge of town.

That made my first visit to a bar in my Mt Pleasant neighborhood, my first week back home, something special.  Marx Café was packed that Friday night with men and women, young and old, gay and straight, Latinos and 
 Gringos and even a 100 percent Navajo man named Lamar I got to talking to. Sidling up to the bar and ordering a glass of Malbec from Manny, the Mexican-American bartender, I felt like a real grown-up.  But when the flaming cheese came out, and the entire bar broke into applause, that’s when I felt grateful I was home. 

And there are other little things I marvel over.  The rain!  Sweet, soft, tapping on my roof at night, and the canopy of green that envelops my neighborhood. My runs through Rock Creek Park along the soggy bridle path, across foot bridges, watching red cardinals dart through the forest, hopping piles of horseshit, listening to the rush of the creek, and drinking the moisture into my skin.

How long will these Beginner’s Mind moments last?  I want to hold on to them; but after three months back, I sense that walking-on-air-in-love-with-everything feeling fading. The realities of leaking roofs and stolen iPhones, parking tickets, gluten intolerance, and Whole Paycheck grocery bills snaps me out of my romance.  

And how much rain can I stand?! After the soggiest spring on Washington record, I’m almost pining for the desert again, the prickly pear cactus jutting into cloudless skies, the dull predictability of small town life.

But more than that, I miss my friends Rita and Sergio.  It hit me just how much when I jumped onto Facebook the other night to check messages; and there was Sergio, posting a new entry to his Historias Rioverdences (Rioverde History) page.  Comments were pouring in from friends South of the Border; so I posted my two pesos:  ‘Gracias, Profe Sergio, for your history lessons and antique images. Keep the stories coming. Viva Rioverde!’   

Within seconds there was a message back:  ‘We miss you, Anna!  We’re at Rita’s bar and everyone say hello!’

Huh, to be back in El Fenix with the gang of tomato pickers and muni bureaucrats and car mechanics connecting across the language and culture divide…

Every change requires a loss and a gain – an ending and a new beginning.  Thanks to Beginner’s Mind, on the good days, I'm appreciating the beauty in all of it.

 

Attending to Endings – Put in the Effort & Let go of the Result

Every change is about a gain and a loss, a new beginning, but an ending too. For one door to open, another must close.  It’s important to face the truth of that and get closure on the past so you can move with focus and conviction to the future.

For me, in Peace Corps Mexico, it was about concluding my Viva Viveros project with the Mexican EPA and the women of Zamachihue, and tying up loose ends on my many relationships, secondary projects, and my Mexican life.

But what did closure really mean?  I had the vision of my new DC life all mapped-out; and images of this interim place I would go to decompress were revealing themselves in my journals:

I cracked open my Lonely Planet for the first time in a year and realized ALL of Mexico I’ve missed out on. But really, I did not come here to travel: I came here to work, to learn, to make a life. Now the time is coming for me to explore.  And I’m starting to feel excited about being a traveler in Mexico – with command of the language and comfort with the bus system and all the difficulties lifted off me, lessons I’ve learned the hard way.  I feel ready to takeoff with confidence and wanderlust.

And Oaxaca does seem to be calling. Reading in Kingsolver’s novel about Frida, the Little Oaxacan Queen, has made that place so real, so enticing. I want to touch the textiles and taste the mole and sip the mezcal - enjoy all the things I don’t have here in this hardscrabble, landlocked rincon of Mexico. Yes, I owe it to myself to find it out – to see another Mexico before I go – to know Professor Edgardo’s ‘Many Mexicos.’  And in this exotic place, take the time to write-out this book before I cross the border and get sucked into life in the fast lane, USA. 

I envision a beautiful quiet posada by the sea. I’ve saved up some money. I'll treat myself. After my three buses from Rioverde to DF, I'll catch the puddle-jumper to Puerto Escondido rather than the 12-hour throw-up bus over the Sierra Madres. Hidden Port will be a great place to hide-out.

The map of my ‘heart’s desire’ is unfolding. 

My yearning for this place was strong; but I was not there yet. I had lengthy and multidimensional to-do lists. My calendar printout was packed with trips to the campo, report deadlines, meetings in the capital, and final sessions of my university classes and English salons. It was almost illegible for the schedule change cross-outs, scribbles and arrows. 

It’s one thing to go with the cultural flow when you have two years;  but with two months left, I had no more time for Mexican Time.

We still had 20,000 trees to sell! They were mature and popping out of their bags. If we didn’t close a deal before I left, I was sure the seedlings would wither in the greenhouse, and the Zama Mamas would never realize their return on investment. But our leads were taking us down rat holes - enthusiastic prospects stopped returning phone calls. And after six months jumping through bureaucratic hoops with La Hacienda (the Mexican IRS), we still had not gotten closure on the official tax ID that would make or break the deal with our prime prospect, CONANP, the agency for parks and protected areas.

I found myself drifting to Puerto Escondido, fantasizing about running along the beach, watching the sunset over the Pacific, swimming in the sea and eating fish tacos!

But I had to reign in the fantasy and come back to the reality of here and now. 

Here and now, how the hell would I get it all done? What if I couldn’t?  I definitely wouldn't!  It was time to face the truth.  Coach Leslie helped me with this, first by helping me see all that I HAD done.  I brainstormed a list packed with over 20 big items like:

• Secured/completed USAID SPA grant funding for Viva Viveros.
• Created Pyramid Model of Sustainability. Applied/documented along the way.
• Presented Sustainability workshops for municipal government of Rioverde, citizen’s groups, universities, conferences – to get the word out at broader/system level. 
• Wrote posts about my experience for Anneseye Blog and published articles for The Piñata.
• Profesora invitada at at UPSLP school of industrial engineering.
• Led local community classes and events:  yoga, abs class, English Salon, CODI orphanage soccer balls program, EcoFeria Puente!  
  
• Built meaningful friendships with Rita and Sergio, Christina and Flor and Roberto in SLP, Chuya and her daughter Lupita, Ricardo and the folks at Echo-logical, Mike, Drew, Sarah and other PCVs...

Wow, that was a lot. My Peace Crops service had not been a cuerpo de passeo, a stroll in the park, as it was jokingly referred to at PCMX headquarters office, a Mexican play on words.

Leslie helped me thank myself for all that. No matter what happened over the next two months, I would leave my mark on Mexico and the Mexicans on me. And in that small space of acknowledgement and acceptance, I was able to let go of some of the striving. I took a list over 100 to-dos and narrowed it down to 3 big ticket items, following my three-tiered Pyramid of Sustainability Model as a guide:  

• At the personal level, I was: Being intentional about closing my service and my relationships (both personal and professional) with Appreciation, Grace, Sustainability, and Possibility; acknowledging the sadness, but appreciating everything that I have given and received.

• At the group/community level I was: Realizing the schedule, remaining focused, not adding any new projects or tasks, recruiting help, preparing and conducting the final three community training sessions in Zamachihue to xfer knowledge on finances, bylaws, sustainable practices, meetings/roles, sales.  And Celebrating!

• And at the system-level I was: Conducting closing meetings with my Peace Corps bosses and my SEMARNAT counterparts to present the truth of my challenges, accomplishments and recommendations powerfully so this information might serve other/future PCVs and projects.

Yes, there was still a LOT to do.  And I didn’t have full control over making it all come to closure.  But I could really see what was important – and it was not ALL about selling the trees.  It was about the human element.  

It was also about:   Putting it the effort and letting go of the result.

The mantra which helped me through two years of ups and downs in my Peace Corps service would carry me through to the end.

Closure, I learned on this journey, is about accepting things as they are – appreciating all that you did accomplish -  and honoring and celebrating with those who supported and humored you along the way. Then, and only then, are you ready to open up to what’s next.

Making Mindful Transitions ~ Lessons in Progress

Transitions don’t start at the moment of re-entry.

My process began back in August, at Peace Corps Close of Service (COS), a three-day intensive program during which our volunteer class had a chance to conclude the official side of our service with workshops, flipcharts, ceremonies, mountains of bureaucratic paperwork, even a Skype chat with Washington’s Transition Services Unit for guidance on preparing succinct elevator pitches that wouldn’t bore or alienate our friends and family back home. 

How were we supposed to boil-down two years of cross-cultural challenges and eye-opening experiences in under two minutes?! This role-play exercise did little more than remind us how hard the impending transition was really going to be.

COS opened the door to the Ending and my overall Transition process. (Read more about it here --> http://annes-eye.blogspot.com/2012/08/sustainability-starts-ends-with-me.html)

But I had a LOT to do in Rioverde with my counterparts, friends and community partners in order to get real closure by the November deadline and move-on. As SeeChange prez and chief change agent, I knew I was going to need a plan if I was going to get through it with any grace at all. 

The pressure to close a tree sale with the Zama Mamas and leave them whole and sustainable was almost unbearable, and the mañana attitude of my counterparts wasn’t helping. On top of that, the State Department’s recurring threat to pull us San Luis Potosi volunteers was bearing down again. The danger of drug cartel violence, and the uncertainty of our service, had weighed on us till the end.

William Bridges, Transitions

Beyond just getting through it, I knew this transition could and would be fertile ground for learning and growth – if only I could manage it mindfully.

So I reached-out to my good old friend and coach, Leslie, for some help.  As OD colleagues and fellow AU/NTL grads, we both applied the Bridges three-stage model – starting with graceful Endings, progressing through the fertile middle-ground of Transitions, then culminating with bright new Beginnings.

Moreover, with our mindfulness underpinnings, we both believed in attending not only to task, but getting below the surface to the feelings, in order to get to real closure and insight. When I got on that bus out of Rioverde for the last time, and looked back over my shoulder, I knew it would be the relationships that mattered most.

Leslie and I set out over a series of Skype sessions, from my Rioverde office connection to hers in the WVA panhandle, to create a Vision for my Transition and *New DC Life.*  Over the next few posts, I’ll share that vision with you, along with some digressions back to Mexico where I'm still picking-up lessons. And I'll discuss the challenges and ah-has over the course of what will soon be a year-long transition process.

Stay tuned…