mexico, part 3.

we rode in a cattle truck to get here. the wind blew in my hair, and even around the tightest corners, looking over the steepest ledges, i wasn't afraid. i was too alive to be afraid. the town was beautiful, and small. dylan and i stood on the back porch looking out, as small children peeked out between cracks in the walls to giggle at us, and wave shyly. they are the same people as the people in matzam - these people had moved to this area from matzam. they farmed here, and then about 70 families moved onto their land and settled the town.

in church, we sang amazing grace in three languages. and for a moment, the sun was shining into this small church, and i felt like i was absolutely sure of what life meant, again. i held all of its meaning in my hands, that were open and facing towards the sky.

we shook everyone's hands. and some of the women cried, and i couldn't figure out why. i felt so far from them in this moment. i wanted to tell them, but i couldn't, that i am the grateful one. i am the one who is lucky to be in your presence. you are the beautiful ones, you are the wise ones. instead of saying that, i just called them my sisters and my brothers while they walked past me and shook my hand.

i couldn't help but keep thinking, "this is what life is!" - this is a woman who is actually beautiful, and this is a way of life that is actually meaningful, and this is actually community - and i felt so free from myself. like i didn't even matter at all. and that is the single greatest feeling that you can feel when you are surrounded by such love, compassion and belonging.