Morning Routine

My daily morning routine really does remind me of life in the monastery. Like in the monastery, it is often filled with incredible beauty. I know that sounds idealistic and that I'm looking at it with rose-colored glasses. Monastic life isn't all beautiful. Just like life in Ajijic, there is metaphorical dog poop on the sidewalks. But here goes:

I rise at 6:30 a.m. just as the neighborhood roosters are heralding the day. I think they're all screaming, "This is my territory! My hens. Don't screw with my hens!" I really think that's what roosters are cockadoodle doing. 

Water goes on to boil for my morning French-press Oaxacan coffee. Brush teeth. Fill the coffee press. By the way, French-roasted Oaxacan beans are incredible. Smoky, with a pungent, almost sour-salty background. A great way to begin one's day. 

I get these beans from a nearby "cafetería"

Shower: The water where I live is double-filtered and I know that costs money. The water is also heated by propane, and I know that costs money, too. My monastic vow of poverty kicks in and I've learned to enjoy a tepid "military shower": Get wet, turn off the water, soap up, scrub down, shave, shampoo, turn the cool water on, rinse, and you're done. I will always shower this way from now on. It's quick, does the job well, and is efficient. Why waste resources?

Morning Prayer Broadcast: I broadcast a morning prayer service along with a reflection for my parish every morning at 7:30 a.m. Monday-through-Saturday on Facebook Live. (If you'd like attend, here's the link) I spend a few minutes looking over the scripture readings in case there's a scary name like "Mahershalalhashbaz" or "Zaphnathpaaneah". Trust me, you need to have some Oaxacan caffeine in you to pull those off. I've been told that the attendees really enjoy the sounds of the birds outside (and the roosters). One two occasions, a couple of cats began "catting around" outside my window.  One time, there was a donkey braying. Feline mating yowls are hardly conducive to a prayerful atmosphere. I simply smile and say something nice about "all God's creatures", close the window, and soldier on. 

Morning Walk: Here's where the beauty comes in. I do a two-mile walk along Lake Chapala on the malecón (pier/boardwalk thingy) in the cool, mountain air. Sometimes, the clouds cover the tops of the mountains like a duvet.

Ajijic has the second-best weather in the world according to National Geographic. (I was finally able to find out the top spot -- It's Nairobi.) The temperatures during my morning walk are usually in the low 60s during the summer. (Upper teens for Celsius folks). The thing that really makes it paradisiacal is that the people are so outgoing and friendly here. You seldom pass anyone without saying a "Hola" or a "Buenas días."  

It's utterly delightful.

Along the malecón

I live at Namaste Village, an interfaith intentional community, in Ajijic. At 9:00 a.m., we have our "morning session" which consists of a presentation of the Daily Word from Unity church. This usually lasts about 40 minutes. Again, this reminds me of monastic life; the rhythm of attending and tuning in to something profound on a disciplined, regular basis. You can check out Namaste Village here. The sessions are also broadcast on Zoom and YouTube. Here's an example. It's a great place to retire and I can vouch for that. 

By 10:30 a.m., I'm usually out the door and down to the central plaza where I enjoy a leisurely café Americano at the same shop where I get those Oaxacan beans. Then, it's across the street to the beautiful St. Andrew the Apostle Catholic Church (Parraquia San Andrés Apostól) where I pray Noonday Prayer and spend a few quiet minutes in meditation. Unlike churches in the States, this one is left open to the public during the day. It's such a beautiful space, so this is truly a gift. 

One the way home, I usually stop by one of the many fruterias to pick up my bounty of fresh fruits and vegetables for the day. Mangoes, papayas, avocados, are my go-to's to have on hand. To us Americans, they are so incredibly inexpensive and taste much better than anything you'd find there. For example, three giant, juicy mangoes were 14 pesos (about 70¢). The clerks there are so very friendly and seem happy to help me with my Spanish. 

Me: Que son esos? ("What are those?")

Clerk: Membrillos! (Quinces). 

Then, it's back home for lunch. I keep it simple: Guacamole on tostadas followed by the aforementioned mangoes and papayas. 

And that, my friends, is my morning. Like I said, it pretty much stays the same -- Just like in a monastery. 

But I will admit to watching banal YouTube videos for a while after lunch. In the monastery, it would have been a trashy novel.