Your Vibe Attracts Your Tribe

I love when awesome things happen on the heels of the not so awesome.

I was going to Burning Man.

I had the ticket, the airfare, the friends, the camp and the RV.  

I already owned the huge blond afro, combat boots, bikinis and bunny ears.  They were ready to get dusty on the playa.  I  was ready to get dusty on the playa.  

I was ready to bike to the Temple and cry my eyes out for Mum, Dad, John and a small army of family and friends we’ve lost too soon.  I was ready to dance my ass off until the sun rose each morning.  I was ready to take photos that would express what my words never could.

I was ready.

Until, Tropical Storm Erika started spinning toward us.

Florida, my southern wild, was under a state of emergency.  They believed she would pick up her mojo and graduate to Hurricane Erika.  They also believed Hurricane Erika was going to hover right over our house.

Seriously.

So, I did what I thought was right (even though it stung like a bitch). I canceled my trip to Burning Man the morning I was supposed to fly.  I felt awful leaving my hubby to handle the hurricane prep while I would have been off the grid dancing in the desert.

I asked my dear friend Monica to visit the Temple for me this year and whisper that I’ll be there when the stars realign.

Then I put away my bunny ears and my ticket was sold.

Someone else would get dusty in my place.

Erika, the storm, never materialized.  Apparently my army of angels didn’t think this year was my year to burn and they pulled a fast one on me.

I had to deal with the airlines now, to salvage as much money spent on tickets as I could after change fees and bullshit bylines.

American Airlines was a full-blown nightmare to deal with.  So bad, in fact, that I can honestly say that I doubt I’ll fly them again unless my back is slammed against the wanderlust-wall.

JetBlue, on the other paw, JetBlue is made up of a team of pixie dust sprinkling rockstars.

Here’s the awesome that followed the not so awesome...

I dialed JetBlue and sat on hold.  My wait time was quoted at 8 minutes.  Then a rep answered.

I gave her my confirmation number and explained I needed to change my flight.  Because I’m a talker I began to say why.  

I asked her if she knew what Burning Man was.  When she responded “Oh yeah, I want to GO ” I knew I was in the right person’s hands.

I told her my story while she worked her magic.

Because I booked through a 3rd party site she had a lot of magic to work.  A supervisor was called to join the fun.  

My rep (named Julianne) and her manager had to manage several legs of my trip. You see, I was going Fort Lauderdale to San Francisco. Then driving countless hours east, beyond Reno, Nevada, miles and miles and miles into the desert. Destination: Black Rock City, which is a make shift city built by festival attendees in the middle of nowhere, which is where the festival takes place.  I was staying for a week to dance, dream and get dusty.  No wifi, no cell, no tether to the outside world.  I would be totally OFF THE GRID. Then, I’d head back to Reno.  Problem is….I didn’t have my 3 hour ride from Black Rock City back to Reno ironed out yet.  I decided I was going to “wing it”.  Once I found my way back to Reno I’d fly to LA then connect to Fort Lauderdale on the red eye.

Being a superstar, Julianne saw the missing link in my logistics.  She asked "wait, how were you getting back to Reno?".

I hesitated a minute (because I was about to say something crazy) and then just said the honest truth:

"Well, honestly...I was going to hitchhike from the festival to Reno if I couldn’t get the "Burner Bus.” Note: The Burner Bus is a bus that goes to/from Reno each day from Burning Man but already sold out.

Her response:  “(gasp….) NO YOU WEREN’T !”

I giggled, looked over at Bobby who turned a special shade of horrified (as I hadn't exactly explained this piece to him yet) and told her “I swear”.

We chatted a bit more and then the unthinkable happened.

Julianne and her awesome manager got my fees waived and my whole ticket refunded!  Pixie dust was seriously sprinkled.  I could NOT believe it!

I promised Julianne if I could squeeze a great big hug through the phone I swear I would.  I told her I was going to write a glowing review for her (which I did) and then I told her that we should go to Burning Man next year.

When we both agreed I said the only thing that made sense: “let’s be friends on Facebook!”.  

Bobby’s mouth dropped to the floor.  He was shaking his head saying to himself “I don’t know how you do it, Girlie”.

Julianne and I exchanged social media info (you know, all the important stuff like first, last and what our profile photos look like).

We are now joined on the mothership of connectedness.  As you can see by the photos below the stars seem to be aligning just fine.  

In the end one thing is for sure:  Your vibe attracts you tribe.

How awesome is THAT!

      ((Me))                                                                    ((Julianne))                                      

:: Always from under the same sky ::

Tara

Penny For Your Thoughts

I have this special spot on Memory Lane.  It's at the crossroads of Truth, Chaos, Uncertainty & Hope Streets.  It's a hell of a 4-way intersection that could use some better lighting and certainly a cross walk.  But none-the-less, even though it's tricky and sometimes hazardous....it's still special to me.

During the launch of the most chaotic chapter in my life, I found myself a continent away from home and spinning my way through a wide range of lessons (also known as mistakes).

I'm no stranger to following my wanderlust and this night I did exactly that.  I had accidentally separated from my friends after claiming a dance floor in Dublin.  It was a beautiful night, crisp and cooling to my warm (post-dancing queen) skin, so I opted to make my way back to the hotel by foot.

My route brought me over the River Liffey by way of the Ha'Penny Bridge.  I made my way to the center and found a spot against the railing so I could take in the view of my fellow night owls against the backdrop of the illuminated city.

This is the exact spot where Time seemed to stand quietly still and I allowed the world to catch up to me.

All the spinning came to a halt.  I didn't have this overwhelming need to sprint to or from anyone or anything.  No twirls of avoidance or plots of destination hopping. Instead, I just stood there and allowed Presence to walk up to me, take my hand and simply enjoy the view alongside me.

It's a moment that is both haunting and heartwarming. A single and powerful moment that I needed then as a reminder to keep Hope and one that I still draw on now to reinforce how proud I am of how far I've come.

I can tell you from experience that getting lost to get found is an amazing adventure.

:: Always from under the same sky ::

Tara

Images courtesy of (from top to bottom):

http://www.ballsbridgehotel.com/upload/sequencer_images/attractions-3.jpg

Gemini Rising

The other night I found myself assigned to the middle seat on my flight from Boston to Fort Lauderdale.  Normally, I'm a window person but like The Stones say, you can't always get what you want.

So, without any huffing & puffing I squeezed myself into my cozy (which really means claustrophobic) seat and got myself situated for the trip.  For me that means the following ritual: text messages sent, phone off, scarf wrapped around me, bottled water nestled in the seat pouch in front of me and a brand new book in hand. My last step is always a "slow the heart rate, you made it" exhale (since I've missed a flight or two in my day).

You should know in advance that it's not unheard of for me to make long-time friends while flying.  In reality, it's commonplace (once a social butterfly, always a social butterfly).  However, there is no person on this fine planet who could have prepared me for the most unexpected contrast of conversations that were about to take place between myself and my row-mates.

And so it began...

As I was in the process of my pre-flight exhale the passenger to my left greeted me with a warm hello.  He was in the coveted window seat but I got over that as quickly as our conversation began.  He asked about the book I was reading (The Happiness Project) of which I explained I just purchased it so I couldn't speak to whether it was good or not quite yet.  I soon learned that he was in his early 20's, from Russia (Belarus), has been in the States for a year, works his ass off and plans to see as much of the US and Europe as he can before going back to Belarus to settle down. He was incredibly sweet (the un-jaded, early 20-something kind of sweet) and I instantly liked him.  

In the kickoff stage of our chat the person assigned to the aisle seat, to my right, made her entrance.  I was alerted to her arrival because her purse landed on my lap as if a personal trainer had tossed me one of those extra large weight balls without a heads up it was coming.   She plopped herself into her seat along with her Beyonce inspired faux eyelashes, anti-gravity hair and super-sized personality.  Once she was situated she apologized for the intimate introduction, I smiled, responded with a sincere "no worries" and continued my conversation with my Russian acquaintance.

Somewhere along the way, Lady Grace also asked me about the book I had in my hand.  The Happiness Project had proven itself to be quite the conversation starter and before you knew it we were off and running in conversation as well.

She asked if I had read a few other soulful books and soon we were talking about the making & breaking of habits (both take 21 days),  Zodiac signs and what type of music we listened to.  As soon as the rapper Eminem's name was muttered a light bulb went off for her.  She must have known she had an audience.  At this time she proceeded to excitedly excavate her purse.  She started digging through it with her crystal encrusted acrylics, found her iPhone and began click-clacking her way through her files.  It was clear she had something to show us and it appeared to be important.  Once she found what she was looking for, she handed us her phone and said "read this".

And so we did...

It took a moment to fully understand what I was reading but then it suddenly dawned on me...she was a lyrical poet in the form of a gangster rapper.  Her words were so gangster I wasn't even sure I knew exactly what she was trying to say.  All I know is that her "boo" meant a lot to her, she was really pissed off, she didn't want him to go anywhere with anyone (especially some other gangster girl rapper who had some colorful nicknames) and that she was willing to go the extra mile to keep her boo happy.

I looked up at my Russian acquaintance wondering what he might be thinking as he read along.  He was just looking at the screen with a blank stare as I did my best to follow the story this hardcore poet was so eager to share.

When we finished I handed the phone back to her and decided to focus on our shared love of writing, which seemed like a common denominator.  I asked if she ever went to Open Mic events to share her work.  She responded with a sincere and heartfelt "Oh, no girrlllll - I don't spit".  It took me a moment to break the trance her faux lashes had me under (I mean, I was only inches away from them and could feel the wind with every blink of her eye).  I found myself just nodding as I watched them flutter and did an inventory of the slang options for the word "spit".  She must have realized I was processing something so she just gave me a moment as she sipped her vodka drink.  It turns out Lady Grace was a unique mix of gangster and lady wrapped up in one aesthetically crafted bow.  

As the hours passed and with the elegance of a ballerina I switched from conversations about growing up modestly in Belarus to Lady Grace's time as a stripper.  Only to switch again from homesick thoughts of the sweetheart the Russian acquaintance had waiting for him in Russia to the racy boudoir photos and selfies that Lady Grace was eager to share from her iPad.  

Somewhere in the last hour of our flight, everyone quieted down.  My row-mates fell to sleep and I sat there with a huge smile on my face wondering how I was going to give this experience the voice it deserved.

As I sat pondering it all, I realized that not everyone has the interest or ability to follow, receive and respect such diversity in one sitting.  I mean, let's just accept the fact that my conversational pendulum had spent hours swinging from one extreme to the other.

It was in this moment it dawned on me that had I not been a Gemini (with the gifts of duality, flexibility and multitasking) it's possible, if not likely, my mind would have been blown somewhere over North Carolina.    

::  Always under the same sky ::

Tara

Image courtesy of:

Gemini Illustration Courtesy of Silver Ridge Studio