Launch Pads

Dear fellow travelers,

Today I was thinking about launch pads. Not the big ones. Not rockets. But the little ones. The ones that suddenly appear after you've been landing for months.

Over the past few weeks, I've written so often about settling in. About fatigue. About integration. About the feeling that something big is taking shape inside me, and I don't know when it will be finished.

And then suddenly I found myself in a Baile Funk class at Casa Calma. It's a kind of Brazilian twerkout.

I'd always wanted to try that. Just like I'd always wanted to make jewelry. Just like I'd always dreamed of a place where people could come together, laugh, dance, reminisce, and just be themselves.

As I danced, I realized something. Not with my mind. With my body.

Sometimes the starting point is hidden in a movement. In a song. In the way you sway your hips. In an“Ahhhh, this is fun!”

It seems I believed for a long time that creativity was something I did. Now I believe that creativity is something that nourishes me .

I'm still tired. But with a little more light, everything is more enjoyable.

This morning I made some jewelry again. It's been ages since I last did that.

It made me think of all the pieces of jewelry I’d bought in Brazil at very specific places and later let go of. At the time, that made me sad. But my body let me know that’s how it had to be. And I trust my body.

Now I know why: They made room. For something of my own. For something that couldn't be bought, but had to be created by my own hands.

So there I was, sitting at my “desk.” A holographic sheet covered in rainbows. Thousands of tiny crystals. Beads. Strings.

And I had to laugh. Because if that's work, then I've really set up my life in a very unconventional way .

As I was stringing beads, I listened to a sound bath with Tibetan singing bowls. And suddenly I realized something that had actually always been there: Sound is part of my spaceship. It always has been.

Music. Sound. Voice. Hypnosis. Meditation. Just like rainbows. Just like a campfire. Just like the mountains. Just like Brazil.

These aren't separate interests. They're different doors leading into the same house.

And as I listened to the sound and looked at the crystals, I drank water from my copper bottle.

Suddenly, I tasted copper. That's right. For the first time. And then I remembered: Chile has the largest copper reserves on Earth.

I had to smile. How often do we reconnect with our roots without even realizing it? Not through long journeys. Not through genealogy. But through a sip of water. It’s that simple.

And now I understand that I ground myself in my own way. And I connect with the heavens in my own way .

I go out into nature. I dance to Baile Funk. I do crafts. I listen to singing bowls. I surround myself with things that cast light. I sit by the campfire.

And somewhere in between, I always find my way back to myself. Or to be more precise: I remember .

My Spaceship remembers, too. It’s becoming increasingly clear that it’s not a dress. Not an outfit. But a vehicle. A space. A way to travel through the world.

With love and the first lights in the cockpit,
Jeannette