words & art by shé

bookshelf

Tag: joy

  • BeLoved

    Quizá puedo ir a conocer Habibi cuando obscurezca, wrote a friend. Maybe I can get to know the Beloved when it’s dark. At first I didn’t understand. And then I realized that he really is an angel, telling me the truth of life, whether he knows it or not.  I came to know the Beloved when my life was…

  • Olas

    “Surfer dude!” said a woman as I walked back from a session, board on head. I smiled. Mazatlán has waves. Olas, in Spanish. Which sounds like Hola. Which means hello. Hello, waves! It’s been a while. “Te quiero,” I texted recently. I love you. Radio silence ensued, yet I’m glad I sent the message. I…

  • Night Sailing

    I did not know I would love sailing at night. No fear, just endless sea and stars. The sound of Habibi’s hull parting the ocean into bioluminescent waves. Wind filling the sails. Learning the navigation system. Keeping watch. Singing. Resting in the cockpit, swaddled in blankets, supremely content. I have always loved the peace and…

  • Capitana

    “¿Capitana?” asks Guillermina, the manager of Marina Mazatlán. Are you the Captain? “Sí,” I reply, yes, and she smiles widely. A man comes in the office while I am signing the docking contract. “She is the Captain,” she brags, and he gives me a thumbs-up. Role model! Because I am doing what I am supposed…

  • Playlist

    I’d been hearing the opening riff to “Hello I Love You” in my head for days, so I finally latched onto a friend’s Starlink and YouTubed it. Followed by “Sledgehammer,” of course, and “Come Out and Play.” Danced my ass off in the cockpit. To top it off, I played “Ya Habibi” and floated around…

  • Surfing Concrete

    I did not know that bringing the RipStik on board Habibi would make me so happy. Like the wetsuit, it’s a reminder of surfing, of fun. You can’t carry groceries on a waveboard. Its only purpose is happiness, flow.  A small skateboard with only two oscillating wheels, riding it replicates surfing. The same muscles engage,…

  • Hilary

    My mother did not evacuate New Orleans before Katrina hit and the levees failed. She hunkered down in the first floor bathtub. She had cleared out — unnecessarily, in hindsight — many times before, she explained, so she decided to stay. “River of misery,” she saw afterwards. Followed by “river of joy,” the following Mardi…

  • La Bolsa Roja

    Cabo Pulmo is known as a primo snorkel spot, so early one morning I drove over and set out down the beach. I found a sandy spot to enter and donned my gear, putting land clothes in a brilliant red drawstring knapsack up on a dune. The bay was murky and cool. Every so often…

  • Wahine Pool

    Two women stand on a rock above me, surveying their domain. The ocean storms have scoured the sand from between two outcroppings, and now the water rushes in and out tidally. I am carefully navigating the new pool, unsure how strong the pull out to sea will be. A wave surges in and they jump,…

  • End/Begin

    Quit my job today. Eleven years I managed a private foundation that supported teaching artists and organizations who specialize in spreading joy. The name (Jubilation Foundation), the mission (benefiting children via music and movement), and almost complete autonomy were the reasons I stayed so long. However, now it’s time to focus on my own jubilation…