Bossanova . . . by Blue Bossanova

Every time I hear this song, I flip back to my training days of completing the infamous ten-miler routine, as I liked to call it.  After completing twelve miles and on, ten miles becomes a kick-back run and five miles is a stroll outside.  The routine of the ten mile run is a specific route to me, in which I follow exactly where my heart wants to run.
It’s short enough to venture out into unknown territory and long enough to get lost in the runner’s zone.

Once I ran this route enough times, I realized I had created a route, it seems by accident, that responded to the energies surrounding me from the local spots of Venice and Santa Monica.

In particular, the energy of the bluffs on Ocean Boulevard, the Santa Monica Pier, and Venice Boardwalk/Bike Path attracted me immediately.  The joy in creating energy for myself, and a sense of home on the trail, provided me with an inner power that acted as a tool to conquer any life situation at the moment.  Not to mention, this tool was easily accessible because all I had to do was step out the door and head down this comfortable ten-miler routine to get back in touch with my spirit and myself.

To give you a glimpse of the ten-miler routine route, you have to imagine that when you step out of your apartment, you are already standing amidst the sunset, the beach, and Ocean Avenue.  Then, picture yourself taking a quick right where you are running along the bluffs, admiring the sun’s glow above the Malibu cliffs and looking up at the leaning palm trees that seem to never stop stretching to the sky or towering over you.  You realize that you are actually running at this point.  It didn’t occur to you that you headed out for a run and you can’t remember how your feet began moving in the first place.

You almost giggle out loud because it is the most beautiful start to a run, or anything for that matter.

Much like that switch from winter to spring, all you can think about is the beautiful sky above.  You simply settle in to enjoy the ride.  And part of you hopes that you have enough energy to run even more than the ten miles, just to soak up the surroundings that much longer.  Following the dirt path along the bluffs, you cut through what I call “the forest of palm trees.”  Like Katniss Evergreen, you can whisk your way in and out of every palm and round your way around couples sitting on blankets or fathers playing catch with their sons.  Once making it through the forest of locals and palm tree markers, you descend down a slightly grassy hill and approach the clincher for this race, with yourself – the Totem Pole.

That’s right.  There is an historical Totem Pole waiting for you at the end of 1 mile complete on this route.  It is going to whip you back towards Santa Monica Pier and set the tone for the next 9 miles.  If you whip around it with enough energy, then you are pumped to run.  If you feel yourself dreading the whip, then maybe you should run tomorrow instead.  It is the official kick-starter for this route.

Everyone has his or her own way of rounding the Totem Pole . . .

. . . but I prefer to swing around this Native Spirit.

I head to the right of the carving and grip the nose of the wolf-face, which just happens to be about shoulder level – perfect for the swinging method.  I whip my right leg out to jet my body to the other side and kick-start the second mile.  Cruise control immediately sets in and you are now pumped and committed to the next 9 miles!

You realize: Life couldn’t be sweeter!

You are in a race with yourself now.  You can go at your own pace.  You can soak up nature and the music all you want.  You can stop and take a picture whenever you feel like it.  You have every freedom in the world for the next 9 miles!

Santa Monica Pier is your next major landmark.  The energy of the tourists on the pier and the volleyball courts to the right excite every cell in your body.  It almost fuels a sense of maintaining strong running form and paced breathing, before heading south towards Venice.  Heading south – this is when “Bossanova” shuffles on.  You never thought you could run to an almost 6-minute song full of repetitive guitar strumming, with intermittent pedals and beats.

Right as Ocean Park ends, the last stretch of Santa Monican beach territory, you enter a zone with a whole new energy.

You are about to cross “state line” as I like to call it, but really it is the Santa Monica and Venice borderline.  To the local Santa Monicans, we are all guilty of keeping to the west of Lincoln, leaving our cars parked for days and biking everywhere.  But, there is a distinct energy shift when you choose to bike across this city line – it is a conscious decision for sure.  In short, for the non locals, a trip to Orange County is a plane flight away, a stay in Hollywood is a road trip across a couple states, but a visit to Venice is the escape-state next-door.  “Bossanova” prepares this mindset for my favorite, neighboring state and I to meet once again, and to let it take me wherever it may.

I . . . . . . Enter . . . . . . Paradise – a place where my spirit runs wild in every direction! 

Before moving to Santa Monica, Venice was the only other place where I considered living.  For practical reasons, I did not move there.  I ended up landing the most inspirational living quarters in a vacation-like complex, which we sometimes call “little bungalows”, adjacent The Bungalow at The Miramont – to be exact, it is 401 steps from The Bungalow.  You can’t beat it!

This neighborhood of 2nd and Ocean Avenue provides half of the tools in my life lesson toolbox, complete with easy access to the bike path, the water, the shops, and Saint Monica’s Catholic Church.  You might call this life the ever, overused “best of both worlds” plan – live in Santa Monica and bike to Venice.  Hence, why the ten-miler routine strategically sends me to Venice every time, with a secret desire to get overly exhausted, only to be stranded there and stay forever.  Blue Bossanova’s “Bossanova”, sets the tone for my heart to truly enter such a world and enter more deeply into my soul.  As I cross “state line” I strip away the simple, yet comfortable life of my little bungalow on 2nd, and leave only my spirit to be seen and felt by others as I fly by.  It helps that the path takes you through the hippie skate park and artisan walkway – the people here are all on the same page as you, as you grow more into your run and drift off to never-never land subconsciously.

Surrounded by creative self-expression and carefree haggling amongst the artisans on the Venice Boardwalk, I turn inward and affirm that my soul is similar to these wandering souls of Venice.

Watching the skate boarders, I breathe in their talent, but I recognize that my board takes me to volleyball, to the beach, or to my street parking spot a couple blocks away from home.

When I glance to the left and watch the artisans baked in their chairs waiting for prospective customers, I feel reassured knowing that I wear my own handcrafted jewelry and that I enjoy giving away my jewelry as gifts, building more connected relationships with the people in my life.

As I pass the Navajo store that supports my love for incense and wooden carvings, I picture myself wearing my own pair of self-made, uniquely long-feathered earrings and rocking my moccasin loafers which I love to teach and skate in.

When I say a quick “hello” to my favorite homeless seals of the boardwalk, I confirm that living a simplified life with no kitchen, limited closet space, and a teaching salary, has ultimately provided me with authentic relationships and a resourceful mindset for remaining true to myself in this world.

Exiting the nook of Venice always puts my spirit into perspective.  I look back at the quick introspection that took place as I ran through, and see that I have followed my heart in all the ways I have ached for.  In a way, I have been my own Venice before I found it.  I have conquered each burn that I ever felt for something new or different – nothing has held the real me back.

Feeding the spirit allows us to identify with places and people in this way and therefore, provides a coming home feeling that we all strive to create in life.

When we identify that a particular place is home to us, we are really connecting our spirit to a place that emits the same energy.

When we are in a place that makes us feel uncomfortable or a place that we feel we do not belong in, our spirit is trying to tell us that this is not the road for us.  This is not to say that we cannot try new things or explore new territory, but that if we are following our hearts to become whom God wants us to be, then we must follow the path that has all the little pieces of bait laid down before us.  Essentially, we all have our own path according to the type of spirit that we are – and we must stay true to it.

Some of us cross paths where the bait from both of our paths collide, bringing us close for one, strong moment. 

But, when our spirit can detect that it does not connect anymore, we must listen to that message and follow that Bossanova, internal melody – just bobbing our heads in a carefree manner and moving forward, deeper into our own path.

When you train for a marathon, the ten-miler routine creates this safe place of constant introspection.  Without even knowing it, you are now invested in you, in your thoughts, in the hidden messages that are waiting to be revealed in your life.

What is great about training for marathons is that you can revisit the home of your spirit whenever you need to reboot a specific type of energy or reconnect with your spirit!  Sometimes we doubt our spirit or even wonder where it went.  But knowing that you can head down that ten-mile routine is comforting every, single time.

You are coming home, to yourself – and there’s no stopping it.

At this particular time in my life, I was heading down the literal path that defined me and beginning to reevaluate the spiritual path in my head and heart.  The run became a safe place for my spirit to discern or mull over every decision I was making.  Yes, there were times when I ran down and crossed “state line” and did not feel affected by my spirit-thriving surroundings.  In those moments, I knew I was hiding from myself or deeply upset about something and needed to face the truth about my path in life.  Did I take a wrong turn somewhere?  Am I not being true to who I am and what I believe?  Are there people or things in my life that are luring me away from the path with the bait?  When I returned from frustrating runs like this, I made sure to run a different route the next time and reflect back on why my spirit did not feel at home in its own hood.

Sometimes the answer was that I needed to go down a different path for a while to appreciate the ten-miler routine again, or sometimes I was exploring new paths and my spirit ached to be somewhere else for a specific amount of time.  These were usually phases when I was not making jewelry, not writing, or not hanging with the same friends I normally hung with – in short, not being myself.

A drastic change in doing things that you normally love, is a huge sign that your spirit is not at home and is trying to find its way back – a small form of denial or rebellion that we must learn to work through.

But two weeks later, there I was, hyped to head out for another ten-miler routine, whether it was in the morning, afternoon, or at sunset.  My heart would flutter and my creative energy bumped rapidly in my mind and heart as I allowed my spirit to be in its home and take in everything from its surroundings.  In these utterly faithful moments, my spirit bloomed…and I return to this moment, still to monitor my spirit, check for a status update, reevaluate, and CHOOSE to be bloomified.