Buttercakes, Postcards, and Selfless Moments of Delight

Hello Reader!

On Christmas Eve, in the remote Baja village of Agua Verde, as Jay and I returned from snorkeling, three shining faces appeared at the door of our van. A brave little girl, clutching her younger brothers’ hands, grinned at me and asked, “Candy?”

I couldn’t help but smile at her boldness—a spark of sheer delight ran through me. I considered offering sugar-free chocolate for a moment, but then I thought of the mini-Dutch Buttercakes Rosa and I had baked together.

A Sweet Connection

I bake Dutch Buttercakes every December as part of an annual holiday tradition. This year, I enjoyed sharing the tradition with Rosa, who runs the tiny restaurant on the beach near our campsite.

Rosa and I had become fast friends. One day, I asked if she’d teach me how to make homemade corn tortillas. She happily obliged, and the next day, I taught her how to make Dutch Buttercake.

Our neighborly bond grew quickly. A few days later, she asked me, “¿Tienes una cebolla?” (Do you have an onion?)

“¡Sí!” I quickly responded, secretly thrilled. Not only did I understand her question, but I also had an onion—and had become that kind of neighbor in just ten days.

The children at my van were related to Rosa, though I never figured out exactly how.

I looked at the girl and said, “No, lo siento. Pero tengo pastel de mantequilla de holandés. ¿Tú quieres?” (No, I’m sorry. But I have Dutch Buttercake. Do you want some?)

My Spanish was clumsy—I sounded like Tarzan—but it got the point across.

“¡Sí!” they all chimed.

Clearly in charge, the girl declared, “Tres, por favor!” (Three, please!)

“Tengo solamente dos. ¿Está bien?” (I only have two. Is that okay?) I said as I handed over the buttercakes.

The kids scampered off to Rosa’s tables, grinning, and I sat back with my heart full. Anyone who knows me—or follows me on Instagram—knows how much I adore playing with my grandkids. I missed them down here!

Reflecting on Family and Adventure

I’ve always had a deep love for children—playing, imagining, and delighting in their company has been second nature to me. But the summer I met Jay, he revealed a new layer of myself: the part that craves adventure and embraces the unknown.

That summer, 43 years ago in Bellingham, marked a turning point. Jay was visiting from UCLA when we met through his sister, who happened to live in the same quirky Victorian house as me. I lived in the turret—a detail that felt utterly romantic. Jay, my knight in shining armor, took me dancing on our first date, and we were inseparable by the end of the summer.

When Jay learned I yearned to visit Mexico, he said, “Let’s go!” My twenty-year-old heart pitter-pattered. Really? Isn’t that too dangerous? My mind argued. But my heart said, “Go!”

We drove my Toyota Corolla from Washington to the Sea of Cortez—stopping to do a little free-solo rock climbing in Yosemite (!). It was the trip that changed everything.

We camped under the stars every night on the San Carlos beach, snorkeled every day, and basked in the sheer delight of our rustic adventure. We splurged on a hotel on our last night—air conditioning and a blissful shower! But on the way home, disaster struck: we blew a head gasket. My fears of being stranded in Mexico resurfaced.

Always calm, Jay said, “We’ll drive slow, keep adding water, and cross the border. We’ll figure it out from there.” And that’s what we did.

That trip opened my eyes in so many ways. Mostly, I loved having a genuine adventure buddy. This man was the man for me.

Once I got home to my turret in Bellingham, I immediately began figuring out how to get college credit in Los Angeles near him. The stars aligned, and I got an internship at the Los Angeles Actors Theater in Public Relations. I arranged to fly down to him for Christmas a few months later.

I sent a postcard ahead saying something like,

“20-YEAR-OLD LOVES DANCING, ADVENTURE, WALKS ON THE BEACH, LITTLE KIDS, AND YOU. ARRIVING 7 PM ON DECEMBER 23.”

Now

Fast-forward to today. Here I am back on a beach in Mexico, snorkeling and still basking in a rustic adventure. Inspired by the children’s visit, I am reliving that postcard I sent Jay all those years ago.

I dug into my art supplies and joined the little kids at Rosa’s table with watercolor pencils, Q-tips for brushes, and torn-out pages from my new Scrabble score-keeping notebook. Together, we colored under the setting sun—perfection!

Jay and my plans for Christmas? A long walk on the beach.

Embracing Simple Joys

As I sat to write this newsletter amid this sea of memories, I reflected on those natural moments when we light up—moments that bring us sheer delight without much effort. These are simple moments, timeless moments, and selfless moments.

It’s good to put yourself in the way of opportunities that light you up. Sure, life is busy, and responsibilities pile up. And still serves us and all around us to be lit up.

There’s a quote I love:

“Don’t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.” ~Howard Thurman

Empty/Fullness and Selfless Delight

These little moments of delight—like sharing buttercakes or coloring with children—are what I think of as empty/fullness. They’re empty of striving and effort yet full of vitality and connection.

For example, my delight with Rosa’s family wasn’t tied to any grand plan or expectation. It just happened. Maybe it’s an intrinsic joy I tapped into—like enjoying children. Maybe it’s something new or beautiful—a crescent moon rising, hot chocolate by the fire, or a baby giggling.

In those moments, I lose awareness of myself—and that feels like the key. So often, we humans are inadvertently but constantly, ever so slightly bolstering or defending ourselves. In an innocent moment of being lit up, however, we just are—naturally Present.

That is everything.

Pay attention to those moments. When does delight find you? Does it ever happen unexpectedly? Notice how it feels.

We spend so much time focusing on what’s wrong that it’s easy to miss these moments of presence. Hint: it happens whenever we are not striving for something else.

New Year Challenge

What we all truly desire in life is to be present. To rest in natural joy, vitality, and being, regardless of circumstances.

Here’s my New Year Challenge to you: Commit to one ten-minute juicy practice for getting present per week! Naked in the Now: Juicy Practices for Getting Present has over 30 short practices ready for you to explore. Let’s dive in together!

Are you interested in joining a Juicy Practices Group? We can share our experiences and support each other in bringing more presence and joy into our lives.

Good News

Ebook Discount: My publisher, Collective Ink, is offering 50% off the Naked in the Now ebook until December 31, 2024! Use code Winter50 at checkout here. Grab your copy and start your New Year’s journey toward presence!
Latest Article: My article “Practice the Art of Affectionate Witnessing” is now in Spirituality & Health Magazine.
New Write Now Mind Session: Starting January 3, 2025! 4-week class. Join here. If you need it, the course code is JWYR76. (It’s free, but if you have never participated in Write Now Mind or have not participated since I started using Canvas Instructure, please email me first.)
Weekly Writing Workshops: Join me for weekly writing workshops in Loreto Bay during January 2025!