Puebloan P’s: My Branching

When Papa Littman died in 2021, I helped my mother and uncle sort through his home, and I found a box full of dream catchers and "thank you for your donation" cards from Native American Pueblo reservations. My grandparents always had a soft spot for indigenous peoples, and would visit pueblos, buy crafts and jewelry to gift to us, and donate generously to these communities throughout their lives. I also learned that Papa had owned a tiny plot of land in New Mexico, so I decided to make that the first stop of my southwest explorations.

I wanted to punctuate my explorations with meditation retreats (“Retreat & Reflection” is a throughline of my professional journey), but retreat centers were struggling due to the pandemic. Despite my earnest and thorough efforts, I was getting no responses to emails or calls, and my applications to dozens of vipassana retreats were being automatically waitlisted or rejected.

In April 2022 after a long screenwork session featuring a notification of another retreat application rejection, I rode my bike to the Santa Fe rock climbing gym to blow off some steam. The gym has a community white board where people share their contacts to connect with new climbing partners. I texted everyone who climbed my grades outdoors, and a guy named Joe responded. Joe auspiciously lived and worked at Mountain Cloud Zen Center. "Come visit the zendo next week!" he said to me as we balanced on the beautiful basalt rock of Diablo Canyon. The serendipity of that connection reinforced an emerging life principle: Spend less time on screens and more time mindfully connecting with people and our planet… things tend to work out.

My southwest explorations continued beyond New Mexico, but I eventually accepted an invitation to join the Mountain Cloud Zen Center Residency Program (first resident since the pandemic!), and migrated to Santa Fe, New Mexico in November, 2022.

In December 2022, I participated in a 6-day silent meditation retreat which was essentially a Zen holiday celebrating the Buddha's awakening. On days 4 and 5 of the retreat I experienced that familiar unclenching feeling in my chest, but I wasn’t in Boston or Botswana, I was sitting on a meditation cushion observing the nondual nature of reality, surrounded by strangers (and soon-to-be friends/community). Reflecting on that retreat experience in relation to the “goals” of my meditation practice, poetic words of Zen teacher Henry Shukman echo in my mind: “Every step of the way is the home you always yearned to reach.”

I have now resided in New Mexico for over a year. I am already observing new sustenance and social ceremony patterns surfacing, and they all begin with "P":

Peppers

New Mexico prides itself as the “chile capital of the world”. I mix red chimayo chile powder in anything I cook, and pickled hatch green chili in anything I make that’s cold. “Red, Green, or Christmas?” is the follow up question wait staff ask diners ordering burritos, pizzas, burgers, sandwiches - basically any meal out here - and I always go with “Christmas.”

Posole

“Try the posole at the Pink Adobe!” texted a friend when I told her I would be visiting Santa Fe. It was easily the best restaurant meal I ate during my southwest explorations… and that same week, Joe cooked posole for the community at the zen center. Posole is a traditional hearty stew made with pork, corn, and chile, and is the New Mexican cuisine I consume most frequently (besides burritos, of course).

Pine

The pine presence is palpable in this place… ponderosa, cedar, juniper, and/or pinyon pine trees blanket the rocky and rugged high desert landscape. I learned on my first outing with Joe that pine needles are edible and high in vitamin C, but tastes vary. I prefer the taste of pinyon pine, so whenever I am out, I snag a few needles off nearby branches to chew on as a mindful sensory sync into my environment.

Papa

Papa's tiny plot of land is ~1 hour drive from where I live, and has a lovely view of the Sandias Mountains. I have visited it four times, and will return on his birthday (the day after mine), for as long as I reside here. When I am there, I potter around, collect cholla cacti driftwood, remove trash (it’s a popular illegal dumping site), and collect seeds/berries from nearby junipers. I place the juniper seeds in rodent holes around his land, along with pine needles, grass, and dry rabbit, deer, and coyote droppings. Papa Littman loved his bourbon, and drank Jim Beam every day for most of his life, so I ritually pour a bit of Beam on the soil in his memory.

Practice

Prior to my 7-month zen residency, my meditation practice consisted of either an intensive 10-day silent retreat, or 10-20 minutes daily on the Waking Up app- two ends of a spectrum of how meditation can fit into my lifestyle. The zen residency was an experiment to see how living in an intentional community that meditates for 1-2 hours daily influences the rest of my life. I am also entrepreneurially curious about the diverse and innovative structures, operations, and cultural containers of silent meditation retreats, and associated health benefits for individuals and society. In my observations, there is a rapidly increasing (and I would argue dire) need for accessible/affordable silent retreat experiences, which the current landscape of retreat centers and meditation apps do not have the capacity (or economic incentives) to provide.

Wise teachers of yoga and meditation always emphasize that the real “practice” occurs off of the yoga mat or meditation cushion. Since moving into my own place in Santa Fe, I have evolved/expanded my personal practice to feature less sitting meditation and more climbing, dancing, photography, driftwood, and writing. I have also been incorporating Buddhist and Yogic teachings and exercises into my professional offerings, which has been well received by multiple clients so far!