So I Moved To a Buddhist Temple ...

My favorite part of the mantra is the silence between the words #tatt

If you had told me ten years ago, when I started this blog, that I'd be living and working in a Buddhist temple in Miami Beach, I'd have told you to lay off the crack.

But the truth is -- in spite of the whacky subject range of this blog -- I am deep down, a woman who has always been deeply drawn to spirituality -- a pull that has gotten stronger as I've grown older in human years.

TODAY AT THE TEMPLE

There’s a scene in Wayne Dyer's movie The Shift in which we learn that the groundskeeper is actually the owner of the resort where a wealthy guest makes his spiritual shift by opening his heart to charity. The man who has it all doesn’t understand why the owner of the resort works so humbly.

“Somebody’s still got to take care of the roses,” he says.

I’ve been living like a gypsy most of the year, recovering from the arduous role of caregiver, which is a role I'll never regret embracing.

I had lost everything. Or so I thought.

The journey has been an enlightening one – to say the least -- and blessed with many angels who have helped me along the way.

The first leg of the journey has ended now to unfold into a new adventure.

Yesterday was my first day on the job as the keeper of a temple. A Buddhist temple, no less. How I got here is not as important now as the fact that I’ve gotten to where I needed to go and to where I knew I was going -- all the time with resolute blind faith -- even if I didn't know the exact address of my destination.

I’m not here to become a Buddhist. This is simply a job. Oh, what am I thinking? Of course it’s more than a job. It’s here where one chapter ends and a new one begins. It’s here where I can take care of a sacred space that will carry me through to the completion of my book. It's here where an angel has had faith in me and blessed me with a chance to follow my heart's mission on this earth. It’s here where I write from a space of honor, putting as much reverence into dusting the Buddha as I do in each word of my book.

It’s no coincidence this job begins the same week as my birthday. And there were signs. Remember the story I wrote about Humpty Dumpty Buddha?

And as if this weren’t enough abundance, dear readers, guess what? Three times a week, I cook for those who come to pray. I cook with love for those who devote much of their lives to charity. This makes #vicequeenkitchen happy, for nourishment of the tummy is just as important as feeding the soul. How cosmically yummy is that?

Because somebody’s gotta take care of the roses. And somebody’s gotta make the curry.

And somebody’s clearly taking care of Maria, too.

Someday I’ll write: "I had gained everything. And I was right."

I'll be sharing some thoughts inspired by this journey here and socially on twitter and instagram, under the hashtag #tatt (Today at the Temple).

New Tropic: The Land of Water and Honey

Yours truly drinking water from the Well of Ancient Mysteries in Brickell.

My wordsmith adventures continue over at The New Tropic, where I've penned two articles -- since you last read about the now famous Miami schlep -- that move away from the topic of transit and are dear to my nature girl heart.

In October, I wrote a story about Ishmael Bermudez, discoverer and keeper of an ancient well located in the heart of metropolitan Brickell. After interviewing Bermudez, who begged me to tell his "truth," the well seemed more like an oracle than an archeological curiosity: are we killing ourselves by not caring for the environment? Read more at The Well of Ancient Mysteries.

Bees are dying, too, but luckily there are still enough to pollinate about ⅓ of the plants that make up our diet or feed the animals we eat. And plus, there's always that delicious honey. Blame it on the almonds: an intense investigation ensued when I heard a beekeeper say that California depended on Miami's bees -- all stemming from my obvious question: "Why would California want anything from Miami?"

Many of your South Florida neighbors go gaga about bees. You should, too. I certainly did, which is why I sent my editor a Russian novel instead of a feature ... which she very wisely abridged. Read more at Who's Saving Miami's Bees?