Casitas & Cathedrals
Yesterday I finished painting our 400 square foot casita. We’ve been working on painting this casita for the past five months. You would think that painting a 400 square foot building would not take that long, but it has — and we’ve even had many hands to help. In between learning how to butcher chickens, finishing graduate school and keeping a full time psychotherapy and astrology practice functioning, there has been painting. The trim on the outside of our casita is even done and let me tell you, it is a glorious shade of turquoise.
Watching the casita grow into a more mature version of herself (she’s almost all grown up and ready to leave home!) has felt both exhilarating and terrifying. We are getting ready to birth something into the world that, much like this whole farm, has been a dream that Heathar and I have held together for over a decade. People are going to be able to stay in this casita and not just Air B and B guests, no. Not just random strangers and not even family members and friends — although my father is adamant about being the first guest to lay his head down on the casita pillow. Rather, we are cultivating a profound space of healing, insight, awareness and depth to happen in our casita space — a space for clients and other people seeking change in their lives to come.
We are not only building a farm but we are building what I hope to be one of the most sought out spaces of healing that people encounter on this wild and far reaching planet. Watching the tomatoes grow is one thing, but watching Heathar and I step into the ways we hold space for others through our work and in our community is a whole other rush. There is something about putting down our roots here that is allowing our Work to take a hold and sink down into the soil.
Last night, Heathar and I walked around our driveway (which is one, big 1/2 mile circle) and talked about our dreams for the property. We had to walk around our driveway, rather than hike out into the forest behind our house, because the chickens were out loose and we did not want some lurking coyote to sneak up and take their chance at a mighty snack. So we stayed close to our hens and chatted about our dreams. No coyotes were spotted and all of our hens were kept safe in the process. By the way, we’re getting close to 2 dozen eggs a day now from our hens and they are beautiful — light blue, brown and white. They are smooth and delicate and more than once we have cracked open our eggs to find double yokes inside. We have very magical chickens.
As Heathar and I walked around our property I thought, “Wow, we are a good team.” And I know that might sound obvious but sometimes I forget that the person standing next to me also wants the same things that I do. We both want to create spaces of healing for people and we’re actually both equally passionate about that. We both prefer to work and create rather than go to a concert. We both prefer to spend time reading and writing rather than go to a bar or even out to eat. I am not saying this to make it seem like we are the same because we’re absolutely not but, I am writing this down so that I can remember that we are aligned in so much of what we want.
Sometimes, in the individualistic culture I was raised in, I can become consumed with My Work, My Clients, My Agenda and My Revenue. While I am so glad I have cultivated this and I have needed to carve out my autonomy around my work and my passions, I forget that I can also like and even love to work with my wife. Heathar and I have gone down our separate paths in the last 3 years — I have pursued my masters in counseling and Heathar has pursued a degree in homeopathic medicine. We have needed to do this for us and for our relationship but now, I am peering my head over the fence again and saying, “Hey, I like what you’re doing here — wanna do more together?”
The casita is the symbol for an actual, physical place being available on our property for healing to happen. Not that healing always needs a physical container, but it helps. Our casita will hold many a person who is seeking, feeling, wanting, reflecting and so on. Already, our property has been a place where many tears have been shed and much laughter has happened over a meal. There have already been many meats smoked on the back porch and many a loaf of bread baked inside our tireless and ancient oven. The bedsheets are ordered and the towel rack is hung in the casita. The closet floor in the casita is even layered with Saltillo tile because that is what I wanted. You may think it is overkill to have Saltillo tile on the floor of a closet but I think it’s beautiful. It’s getting close, it’s getting ready. The people will most definitely come.
Earlier this week, Jack and I made a trip into Santa Fe and we visited the St. Francis Cathedral on the plaza. This cathedral is a mixed bag of emotions for me since the heavy hand of colonization is present in the Catholic images on the walls but, I will still take a seat in the pews and just listen. I love the sounds, the smells and the silence that happens there. As I looked up at the ceiling, I noticed how perfectly the lights were spaced apart from one another. I noticed the care and the time that went into the creation of the cathedral. This is the way that sacred spaces are made in our world — piece by piece and bit by bit, very slowly and over time.
I want our casita, not to feel like an old Catholic cathedral, but to have the feeling of intention and sacredness. The painting of the walls has taken five months because that’s how long it has taken us amidst life but also, that is how long it has taken to thoroughly paint every inch of the casita and to let the formation of the space happen naturally. And maybe even better, the space is going to let me know when it’s done. The space knows that it is going to be used for some deep work (we have had many chats about this) and so it is taking its time to become prepared. I want to stand back and watch the space take reign of its own life. I want it to have its own autonomy. After all, we are all working together here.
