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something unfamiliar – community outside of my own state, my own race, my own self-

indulgent heart. The experience at Esalen stirred me to be open to the idea of generosity
– and the fact that it DOES indeed exist, despite my critical, critical heart. Generosity

does exist, I just have to be open to it.

And while the fact remains - I was too chicken-shit to talk to the esteemed writer & teacher

Pam Houston – my take-away from the Writer’s Camp is and will be alegrἰa. Alegrἰa in
the small friendships made here, among the other fellowship recipients. Alegrἰa in

receiving Samantha Dunn’s post-conference email pledging her continued support of us
as we set off to trudge the continued journey of a writer’s life. Alegrἰa in hearing from

other writers that continue the struggle to create and write and draft and rewrite and

submit and do it again and again without promise of reward.

Esalen in twelve movements, not just to give it shape, but to grant it gratitude. Esalen in
twelve movements because twelve is the number of joy. Alegrἰa.

Twelve is a sacred number. In my Catholic tradition, there are 12 “stations of the cross”.
Twelve months of the year. Twelve constellations of the zodiac. Twelve apostles of Christ.

Twelve is the beat I step into on the other side of the experience at Esalen’s Summer 2019

Writing Camp. Twelve is the number of my mother’s people, the shape of the shapeless
breath I can’t take back for giving. Twelve is the numero when ansias become alegrἰa.

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