Growth: California, Part I

I am back in my sleepy New England town. Back where the roads are white with laid salt, the trees are scrappy and naked, and the days sting with the cold of winter. I’m back from an incredible adventure, settling in again. Back home. I can feel the change that has begun to take hold of my life, slowly shifting around me like an aura of light. I have grown. I have gone and come back to discover myself in a new light. Even when it’s not as obvious, this growth, this change, is there, and I’m beginning to learn what it means. 

 It’s taken me longer than I had expected to process and understand the things I learned in California. I had intentions of turning out a bunch of articles right away, discussing all of the wonderful insights that I gained at the center where I was working. But as always in life, things didn’t go exactly as planned. 

Coming home, I was struck with a sense of listlessness. In comparison to my travels, home life was slower, yet somehow more hectic. At home, I expected more from myself. I wanted to keep busy, but after such a radical experience across the country, I needed time to process, to do internal work, to be creative and introspective and quiet. As soon as I took the time I needed to reflect and ground myself through my writing and my routines, I found the peace that I had discovered in California. Now, I have cultivated the voice I need to tell these stories. I am excited to share a little bit more about my journey and my growth. 

I went to California with a dream of adventure, a beat up Jack Kerouac novel in my pocket, and not much more in the way of expectations. Part of the journey was about going to a new place without any expectations. I wanted to see what would happen if I just let go and enjoyed the act of travel, of movement. I partnered with a wellness retreat center in Sonoma Valley called Mandala Springs and was set to stay there for a total of ten days. My intention was to turn inward on this journey, to experience the peace and wisdom that this center had to offer. 

At the heart of this trip was the WWOOF organization. WWOOF (short for Worldwide Opportunities on Organic Farms) is a cultural exchange program, allowing individuals to live and work on farms around the world in return for food and housing. If you are interested in learning a little bit more about sustainable agriculture, or if you’re hoping to see a really authentic side of a new place, I highly recommend the WWOOF program. I had an exceptional experience with the center, and I think it’s a really valuable way to travel. 

When I arrived in Santa Rosa, the closest city to the center, Mandala immediately made an impression on me. A joyful and quirky threesome picked me up from the airport. As in Oregon, the characters that I met along the way truly made the journey unforgettable. I will never forget climbing into the beat up Chevy that my host drove, hit with the smell of incense and the boisterous, goofy voices. In that car, I met three new friends; a chaotic, boyish adventurer, a thoughtful, talented musician, and an intense student of spirituality. These guys became my family for the week and a half I was staying in California, and they truly took me in as one of their own. 

We came up a long, winding road through the mountains, listening to loud hip hop and reggae with the windows wide open. The open air streamed in on a dry, sunny breeze that lifted the stale hair off my neck. Gradually, the smells and sights of California came to me—a petrified forest, hills of desert land and spiky brush beside the road, succulents, vultures and eagles circling, a hazy white sky, and a scrubby brown mountainside. 

When we came to Mandala, there was a sense of homecoming for my companions. They had been gone only for an overnight, but with the way they greeted others at the center and settled back in, it seemed as though they’d been gone for months. Later, leaving the center, I would find this same sense of attachment to the place and the bitterness in an ending. I grew to understand the sweet connection of living as a community and the power of doing things with intention and love. 

Living at the retreat center was an experience in immersive learning. I became comfortable with the daily rhythms, the mentalities and lessons the place had to show me, all through a full immersion in the lifestyle. Certainly, the values aligned with my own, and I felt loved and accepted for the best and brightest side of who I was. 

Everything there was done with intention. People rose as their bodies told them to, some getting up bright and early to work and others sleeping in late, and working until dusk. The food was made with holistic ingredients, many of them local and from the community garden that sat, like a heart, at the center of Mandala’s land. Earlier in the day, we drank smoothies and tea by a fire which was stoked and burned every morning. From the window of my room, I would often look out and see the smoke from the fireplace, and that’s how I knew when it was time to rise. We worked with our hands, under the sun. It wasn’t anything complicated. The work was simple and physical. It felt incredible to work with the land, to touch the new leaves of spinach, to clip lavender and gather it into bushels, to get my hands dirty with the California dust. We ate hearty lunches and talked about spirit and about music and art. Sometimes we played, sometimes we cooked, sometimes we just spent the evenings in quiet reflection on our own. 

This rhythm of life suited me, and I grew content. My body was satisfied and my hours were simple, giving my mind and spirit time to embrace change and to process new lessons. I learned how to fully show up in my relationships; how to honor the present moment; how to spend time alone and embrace time as a community. These lessons, and many more, were internalized, and even today, I can feel the knowing that exists from my time spent on the West Coast. It was a beautiful, meaningful, and important time for me. 

Though I cannot include everything that I gained in California in a single post, I do hope to continue writing about my journey. This is the introduction for many stories to come. As I process and learn more about the person I’ve become, it is easier and easier to write about these things. Stay tuned for more posts soon, and as always care for yourself, be well. 

Intimately yours,

Caroline

P.S. I took most of my photos from this trip on a disposable camera. I’m waiting for the film to be developed, and I hope to have more photos on the next post!