Airports are a funny place. Really, when you think about it, there are so many people on this planet moving from one place to the next. These hubs, or portals are the swinging doors for us to time travel, to walk on a piece of metal that will traverse the globe and bring us *safely* to a new locale.
I walked into the airport again this morning, it almost feels as though I haven’t left. A new hunk of metal awaited my arrival so that I can travel approximately 3.5 hours flying time or 6 hours clock time to a location that has a different climate and weather conditions. Also where my blood family is anticipating gazing upon my physical being.
As I waited in line to walk through a metal detector and get my bags checked, an Asian woman buzzed around in front of me, probably confused and fumbling. As the TSA agent repeatedly reprimanded her and multiple passengers around me, the Australian woman next to me remarked that she wasn’t stressed until she arrived in that line. It caused me to reflect on all of the airport security in each airport I had passed through, I didn’t have a single issue in any of them, except the Chinese who I think just yell at everyone.
The airport can be a confusing place, each country has a different issue they are looking to tackle. In China it’s about the batteries and electronics. The US is concerned about chemicals and weaponry, paranoid about the secrecy of anyone threatening the country. In Nepal, I was only felt up, they just don’t want their own people to leave.
I spent the last 2 days in my apartment in Mar Vista, the place I have called home for 3 years. I did 11 haircuts, got a haircut, saw many friends and formalized a plan for the next month into summer and fall.
I was picked up at the airport on Saturday night, whisked off to my apartment for a shower and to grab some desert clothes, munched down an In-N-Out meal and drove for much longer than necessary to meet music and nature in the middle of the Mojave. I proceeded to process, ponder and play my way through the night until the pink rays of morning lifted the darkness and welcomed the sun. At that point, I started wandering the camp and saw many familiar faces. I was sharing a spliff with a few musical friends when I caught a glimpse of my cousin dancing. I jumped up and ran to give him a hug and we sat next to the dance floor to catch up and chat of our adventures. I was brimming with excitement and went first, bubbling out my thoughts and events that I was most happy to share. David is one of my rocks, the person I’ve had my whole life as a foundation to check in. We are exactly 4 months to the day apart and some have confused us as twins. Our lives seem to be intertwined as we learn and expand in different ways, but Moontribe has become a place for us to reconnect and mirror our thoughts. It’s a joy to tell him of my life, but an even greater joy to hear and reflect on his own musings and life journey.
I met a boy out in the desert who as soon as he found out my name and observed me drying flowers on the hood of the car, started a lesson on the tree of life. Apparently, there is a story behind my name that I have never known. I was named after a city in the Bible; my family, being Devout Christians, chose to use a name they felt would adequately label me for my life journey. However, Bethany isn’t just a city of God, it encapsulates so much more, some of it seems to be a bit abstract.
While in Nepal, this question we don’t ask in America very often came up repeatedly. What is the meaning of your name?
When I was little, in school we talked a little about this, in 3rd grade I remember researching the root of Richards and Bethany and drawing a picture of what my own crest might be. I made it up because I couldn’t find one that existed. But in Nepal, they have a caste system, each one has a crest, a language, a way of dress. This is how one would know where they belong.
Beth is the second letter of the Hebrew alphabet, the feminine to the masculine, a letter used in duality. It is the 2nd in the tree of life, meaning wisdom, or the place where Jeshua Chrestos resides. Beth is also a house, a place or a body; something where a god or spirit or the divine resides. It seems it goes so much deeper than I have the capacity to explain in this update, but it seems as though realizing the meaning on ones name and the significance with which it is given, opens up a thought of consciousness and purpose or intention that is set upon our lives. An intention that is placed upon our very first breath or heartbeat by our father and mother, the ones who create us, the duality from which we are born.
I have decided to continue on with my travels and journey. If you have enjoyed reading my updates and wish to continue receiving them, I’m grateful to you and your interest. I am also starting a traveling art blog, one of my clients yesterday even offered to loan me a camera for 2 years in order to start a Vlog, a video base for travel updates as I continue on with my adventures. I have a few products I will be launching in the next month to sell in order to acquire monetary funds. You might be familiar with my Strawberry Propaganda and I’m including buttons made from my travels (a favorite is the word “Kathmandu” cut out of my boarding pass). I will also be hosting a huge apartment sale in the beginning of April in order to sell all of my vintage clothes, furniture, art supplies and books which no longer hold space in my current evolution.
Being back in California and after a confusing and eventful end to Moontribe, I have realized that going to Nepal was not only a trip, but changed the course of my life. I no longer fit into the life I made for myself in the past 3 years, but I have become that which I always wanted to be: a citizen of the world, artist and a leader of social change. Yes, I realize those are big words and maybe a little large for my humble mouth to pronounce, but I have decided to become the change and voice that is needed for women around the world, the voice that not only talks, but listens, inhaling others’ stories and holds the hand of the ones who need it the most.
Strawberry Propaganda is about using our fruits, our talents, our gifts and about spreading seeds, or this idea of humanity, of equality and empowerment, so that others might sprout from that love, that by consuming love, we create more love and we become more love. That by realizing we are all connected, as a strawberry bush grows a daughter plant, we can only thrive as a community, the more I grow, the more I can give to you so that you may also grow and gift to your daughters wherever they may sprout.
It all comes down to finding our truth, living in love and respecting all people as we each find our own truths in our own way on our own paths.