To the Rainbow, I Go

Quite the adventure ahead...

It's been seven years since I last went to a Rainbow Gathering. Seven. Damn. Chelsea and I used to make it out pert' near every year for a solid run there, but then... life, men, work, money... typical distractions of life, pulling us from our annual Welcome Home. Things are so different now in 2010... I am free, untied, unemployed... and the drums have made their call. In just a few hours, the gypsy wagon points east, and Red and I are freeway-bound, forest-aimed. Soon to be sky-clad and earth-pounding. Hippie bliss.

It's a little chaotic to be taking off in the middle of soooo much activity: the month of July is booked solid with teaching, rehearsals, performance, weddings and MOVING! Exactly why it's so enticing to dip out for a week, and bury myself in the woods where no one can reach me, where time is all mine, where I follow compelling instincts from moment to moment, and always end up exactly where I should be. The Rainbow is awesome-eerie in that way... synchronicity at its finest. Magic always afoot.

Mostly, I'm looking forward to reconnecting with my gypsy tribe. I've known some of them since I was a child, and others I haven't seen for nearly a decade. I think of all that has befallen us in those years - births and deaths, weddings, divorces, fortunes and losses. We'll never even get to it all in the short time I'm there, and won't need to. When I walk into the circle, I will be home. I will be welcomed as a daughter, sister and friend. I will embrace and be embraced, and that will be enough. We will sing and dance and pray. We will smile. I will look into their eyes, as they look into mine, and we will already know each other's hearts. We have been doing this my whole life.

My producer gave me a greater purpose: to find my name in the forest. We are on the cusp of launching my solo project, and I have battled the name game my whole life. Emily Gergen simply never had the panache I've craved for stage. Emily Bar is no longer. Ea Colay was too heady - "the world that is woman" by definition, but too easily mispronounced and misunderstood.

A few months back, I reassumed my very first alias: Aida Blue, given to me by the gypsies I set out to meet on this trip. Aida was a wild child, strong, beautiful, free... I've been feeling her and living that vibe intensely this year. It makes sense to saddle up with her again, and why not forever? She is the expression of my spirit. At any rate, I'll be hearing the name all weekend, and can try it on again, dust it off a bit and see how she shines. I go into the woods one woman, and plan to come out another.

In regards to much of my life, that sentiment rings true. It has been a most transformative year, and I have made incredible progress on all fronts: creative, spiritual, physical, social, emotional... Huge strides made towards becoming the woman I've always known I'm meant to be, and recognizing the amazing gifts the Universe continues to bestow on me for my hard work, efforts and diligence. Over the past month, I've become somewhat distracted by my social life, my heart, and loins... I know this trip will bring it back to center again. I need to cool off a bit on all that, and add some wood to the fire of my destiny. Something much larger than me is manifesting, and I need to be ready.

So, to the Rainbow, I go. No resistance at all. Back to camp. Back to roots. Back to G-Funk and Lovin Ovens. Back to the Grandmothers and spirit songs. Back to sushi and mimosas at NY Camp. Back to Jiva and Fantuzzi. Back to the loving arms of Freedom. I'm coming home to all of this, and so much more. I'm coming back to me.

Can't wait to hear those words: "Welcome home, little Aida. We love you."

"And I love you..."

Open Roads

Like clockwork, I woke up at 7:19 this morning. Had the opportunity to sleep in and enjoy a lazy Sunday morning, but a certain heart connection knew better. Only moments before I awakened from my sleep and dreams, my ex-husband packed his car, gassed up, and set out on his long journey to his new home in New York.

It registered immediately that today is the day, and so I called to remind him to drive safely, that he's in no hurry and doesn't need to speed, to enjoy the drive, to stop at a few of my favorite roadside attractions. It's his first road-trip across the United States, and his longest road-trip ever. It makes me smile...

He grew up in Tel Aviv, and the entire span of his country is probably only 7 or 8 hours. I remember visiting him there years ago, and he took me to the southernmost city of Israel, a town called Eilat. It sat on the shores of the Red Sea, with Jordan clearly visible from the beaches, and the Sinai Peninsula only minutes away. On that trip, he complained of the long drive through the desert - which only took maybe 4 or 5 hours. It was a regular vacation spot for him and his family, and the drive was boring and uneventful for him. I, on the other hand, was spellbound. I remembered a Bible I had been given as a child that had photographs of many of the ancient places described in the scriptures, and now I was seeing them for myself. I remember, on the road to the Dead Sea, huge mountains of salt, as the desert roads wound down further and further to that lowest place on earth. I remember Bedouins and camels, villages carved into rocky cliffs, the forest-like trees of Jerusalem. Almost every picture of me there has my mouth hanging open in awe and wonder.

I grew up on the road, in part. My father and his second wife traveled the Renaissance Festival circuit, selling their art of pressed floral arrangements between glass. We would make trips every year to Texas, Arizona, Maryland. In the summer, we had a booth at the Bristol Renaissance Faire, on the border of Wisconsin and Illinois, and much closer to home than many of the others. We would make that 7-hour trek each weekend for the 2 1/2-month run of the show, and it was considered to be a "quick trip." Indeed, I remember my first solo road-trip was driving to Bristol in a Mazda pick-up truck, only a few months after I got my license. I'll remember that trip forever - I was thrilled, and felt so happy and free. The road held infinite possibilities: it could take me home, or absolutely anywhere. I could just keep driving. I could even lose the map, and just keep truckin'. I felt like a real gypsy.

I love road trips, and regret it's been so long since I've made one. For many years, my best friend and I would make trips out to the National Rainbow Gatherings for a few weeks in the summer. She lives in New York, and I'm in the midwest, so it would be our special time together... traveling down new roads, into beautiful National Parks all over the country, camping and living off the land. It's been too many years since we've made that trip. Every time we've missed it, we've vowed to make it the following year, but life gets busy and in the way of our plans. We have become more sedentary (much to the dismay of our youthful ambitions!).

Thinking about it now, I'm a little envious of my ex. What a perfectly beautiful day to set off down the highway, en route to a new life, a new adventure. A new country he's never traveled, with vast expanses of open land - quite different from the small-but-mighty country of Israel. Not that he's a stranger to travel, mind you, as he's been to well over 25 countries around the world. He lived in India for almost a year, traveling south to north, into Tibet and Nepal. I don't know if the landscape on this journey will prove as moving or interesting, but I'm sure it will move him in some way...

I've traveled the American highways so much in my life, that it's become somewhat ordinary in my mind. But if I think back, I can easily remember the beauty of Texas Bluebonnets blooming in spring; or Saguaro cacti towering over us in Arizona; or the brilliant red cliffs we climbed in Utah. Any place seen for the first time has its wonders. No doubt, he will discover many on the way. Even more so, is the feeling behind it - that he is setting off on an unknown adventure to the east coast and New York City... dreaming and wondering of what awaits him there.

I confess, I was a little sad to wake up and know that my good friend is no longer nearby. To know it may be a very long time til I see him again. To really feel that last binding thread has broken, and we are now in every sense independent of each other. My eyes water with tears for a moment, and then I'm smiling again - it's bittersweet. I know we will both miss each other, but we are also both excited to be starting new chapters in our lives.

Some people think of relationships as two roads that merge together as one. I've always seen it differently: I see it as two roads running parallel to each other, for whatever stretch of time or distance. Some people enjoy moving forward in the same direction for years and lifetimes. Others detour. I guess that's what happened with us. But I'm grateful, and take great comfort in knowing that there remains a third path - the road between us - which will forever remain open, and look forward to the days when we might make small journeys towards each other, with each other, as friends, again.