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Heat, Dreams and Rain
Heat, Dreams and Rain
a new season

by Dr David, Editor, Publisher

My neighbor's car alarm went off this morning, waking me up. Not having a clock in the bedroom I did not know the time. It was still dark. A few minutes later the church bell striking eight times, ding-dong, ding-dong, ding-dong, ding-dong, told me that it was a new hour. But which? When I listened for the subsequent strokes that count the hour I only counted one. I went to bed at midnight. It did not feel like 1:00. I did not feel tired enough. I inserted my earplugs. Certainly I could fall back asleep. But no. After half an hour I turned on the light, pulled out the earplugs and began to read. I could hear traffic far off on the Libremiento, a sure sign of the approaching dawn, but I dare not believe. Twenty minutes later, glancing out the window I could see the first tentative light of morning. Somehow I had missed five bell strokes of the church clock. I must have momentarily fallen back asleep. It was half-past six. I got up and got to work.

High season is over. As the city slows down the job of collecting and publishing events also enters a lull. Coincidentally my many collateral projects (guides to nightlife, classes, restaurants, art galleries, other cities,) all gathering momentum, are all less demanding. Still I am quite busy. After a productive morning (including yoga, breakfast and a bicycle ride to the Jardin to buy what the man told me was the last 100 peso ticket for the Lila Down's concert) and I had an equally productive afternoon (including contacting the New York Times and Mashable for publicity regarding my Lokkal in other cities project and making a batch of hummus) and a satisfying comida (featuring hummus.) Around 4:00 I shut off my computer and after reading in bed for a while drifted off to sleep. Two hours later I woke to find a full overcast shading us from May's savage sun, the wind whipping up and a thunderstorm about to strike. But no, only a few drops of rain fall on San Miguel.

Here summer begins with full vengeance in May. The rains come reliably in late June, cooling off our ubiquitous stone and concrete. In July and August the atmosphere gets hot, but the earth, with its many more molecules, stays cool. It's similar to momentarily opening a door during an icy winter; the insubstantial frigid air enters, but the greater substance of warmth, of the warm things inside maintain the warmth of the house. August in northern Vermont is the Garden of Eden. But after experiencing July and August in San Miguel I sold my property in Vermont.

Still, it is only May, and here and yet, to quote Woody Allen, “the sun beat[s] down like a heat-lamp gone ape.” Yesterday, after bicycling home from the Centro at 3:00pm I got woozy and had to sit down. I remember my first episode of sunstroke, faint and alone, eight years old, inside on the wide school staircase after recess. But I don't remember why I was alone there. Where was everyone while I sat there with the world going in and out? Then getting up and carrying on. Yesterday, a slice of watermelon and a few moments under my patio hose fully revived me.

Truth be told, regarding my projects, I now also wonder where everyone is, why I am as alone as I am. Yes, my team keeps growing in number and enthusiasm. More people are coming into orbit, coming into and going out to work on Lokkal. And, yes, our Google rankings and readership numbers are first rate. But, as I like to point out to local business owners, no one works like the boss. Maybe it's Mexico, maybe it's the times, but I find the entrepreneurial spirit hard to come by. I have one live wire, a great salesperson, but I need more young go-getters who will actualize the assets I have acquired during five plus years of building my web empire. I am moving forward, setting up systems, pulling in people behind me, like my stellar assistant. But I want co-creators, associates to get out in front. Yes, I know, the vast majority of you, my dear readers are happily retired. But maybe you know someone here or who wants to move here?

When I wake during the night, I find that if I can keep my mind on my last dream, then I can easily fall back asleep. There this morning in the indeterminate predawn I was remembering my dream. It was something graphic or geographic or geometric; things moving and pulling other things into place, repeatedly; the same type of thing each time; a series of adjustments. There was a sense of order and satisfaction. If I hadn't already slept for six hours, then I would have gone back to sleep. Waking from my siesta this afternoon (and wondering what I am going to publish in my magazine two days hence,) the near storm and almost rain make it seem as if already July has come in all its freshness. And, I may yet be dreaming, but I can still feel pieces falling into place, the adjustments, the necessary geometries being accomplished. It's still early, but not as early as I sometimes imagine. The dawn and the rains and the entrepreneurs are coming.

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Dr David formerly published Living Well the first holistic guide to Connecticut, at the rate of up to 150,000 copies per issue in 3 different editons (Hartford, New Haven and Fairfield County.) It featured articles on holistic health.

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