I have to be honest that I start my Mexico journey with a level of grandiosity akin to that exhibited by the current president.
I don’t need to go into a political rant about the level of ego seated in the White House, but I do have to say something about how it impacted me positively.
In thinking about how I could match his grandiosity with some measure of strength, large vision and audacity of my own, I stumbled upon a project I hoped would counteract some of the human disconnection and inhumanity left in the wake of the debates about the wall with Mexico.
My impulse originally was to say to the Mexican people that the president’s view did not represent mine. How could I convey the sentiment? I decided to appoint myself to an ambassadorship position (hence the grandiosity). I would convey love between our nations and our hearts. I chose as my vehicle a somewhat sloppy medium. I called my tool the Leaves of Love. I enjoyed the double meaning on the literal and spiritual level. I could journey around Mexico leaving love.
I wrote a short message in English. I recruited my friend Cecile to translate it into Spanish. My partner, Jeff, made a few hundred copies of the Spanish text. I rounded up my artist child Em’s little discarded tiles and Jeff’s rejected watercolors and walked the streets like a bag lady scavenging leaves from the roadside trees and sidewalks. I included a few recycled dabbings of my own painted papers here and there. In the end, the materials came from everywhere. I set to work transforming small off cuts into little colorful tiles with one or more leaves on each one. I painted, glued and waxed for several weeks. The house had a smoky, waxy smell and was strewn with leaves. Love continued to grow amid the flotsam and jetsom of these newly-created, intentional pieces.
As I sarted assembling love, things got really interesting. I noticed my old perfectionist self, the one I thought had been exorcised to the basement many years ago. It made an unexpected reappearance and told me that the tiles looked unfinished, childish, not worthy of taking up other people’s time. I sent that chick back to the basement in a hurry. Then came my old friend Ms Hopeless. She questioned what good could I possibly hope to do when the forces around me are so much stronger and people may not even read the message: “What makes you think that your love will make a difference?” Ms Hopeless taunted me. I sent her packing also.
Then the police officer, Mister Interrogator of the Mixed Motives Department arrived and said: “Be honest you know that you’re just a pretentious old white lady taking a nice vacation. So don’t delude yourself that this is anything more than that. Aren’t you being just as egotistical as the president?”
I gave him a nod and agreed that things are never one dimensional. There are many ways to frame something. I certainly do hope that I have a nice vacation. I also hope that I will be one of many privileged people who chose to spend their tourist money in our much maligned neighbors’ country. Our neighbors deserve our support. I hope too that my little messages bring us closer together in some way.
Finally, I had done enough tiles to fill a suitcase. They would be left in gas stations, restaurants hotels, shops, perhaps even outdoors. And they would say in no uncertain terms that this ambassador wishes our friends to the south well and urges them not to view life through the lens of one hate-filled leader. He is an individual and we are many. I know I don’t carry my love alone. I carry the love of thousands and leave it for our friends who have been insulted and demeaned. I tell them they are loved.
When the tiles were ready to be packed, a magical thing happened. I laid them out all together. And finally I understood what was happening. The ugliness and imperfections that I saw in each individual tile had disappeared because there was a vast colorful array of them lying all together.
This, in the end, is how love happens. It emerges from criticism and doubt, and reminds us that the only goal is to be the ambassador of coming together and leaving love. The only colorful, enticing result is a collective one.
Individually nether I alone nor one card will bring healing. Just as one president cannot control the whole narrative or extinguish love. Side by side we can leave a lot of love on each other. There are many ambassador positions available. Leaving love is something everyone should be proudly grandiose about!
