Author: admin

Country Hopping Couch Hopper

I haven’t written in a bit. I’m a little disappointed, but I’m going to go ahead and try to have some compassion for myself and carry on. I made the difficult decision to return to Canada and I spent the last couple weeks soaking up my remaining time in Cabo and transitioning back “home.”

I spent the majority of my time abroad living in different homes with the generous people I met along the way who were willing to share their spaces with me. I met some amazing people, saw some neat spaces, and got to test the waters living in a variety of different environments. It was amazing.

The last week of my stay I spent with a woman who I was drawn to right from the start. She was the one who looked at me within days of my arrival, when I thought I’d only be there for 9, and said something along the lines of “you live here now.” That simple sentence, packed with more wisdom than I originally anticipated, gave me the confidence to think “hey, maybe I COULD live here now.” And here we are, six months later.

ANYWAYS, our schedules did not align for us to get too close in my first couple stints in Cabo. She was in and out of the states and I disappeared off to Puerto Vallarta several times. However, we kept in touch, got a couple coffees in, and developed enough of a bond that she invited me into her home for the end of my Cabo days.

I so enjoyed every second of it. We ate some great meals, we laughed and cried, we made each other our morning coffees and prattled away on our respective phones without disrupting each other. It was respectful, easy and full of love and support. She introduced me to new people, made me feel welcome, and shared intimately with me. She also dropped me at the airport.

I flew through Mexico city and scheduled my flight so that I had 1pm until 9am to explore. I landed, hit the pavement, and strolled about the amazing buildings throughout the historic center. I managed to get inside a couple massive, and GORGEOUS churches, do a little shopping in funky hipster shops, and find some roof tops from which to enjoy the light of the setting sun. I walked around for 6 hours straight, snacked on gelato and al pastor tacos, and nestled into a stunning restaurant for an amazing meal before heading to my private hostel bed.

Early morning, I was whisked away to the airport for the remainder of my trip. A plane, skytrain, bus, ferry and car ride later, I arrived back in my suite in Nanaimo.

I came back to a lot of my furniture being thrown out and my things in forty boxes that encroached on every room. Part of my decision to remain in Mexico was that my space flooded just before I left town and wouldn’t be repaired until long after I was scheduled to return. It was hard enough to leave behind a lifestyle that made me happy, people that I loved and could be completely myself around, a country where I could live comfortably and joyfully… But coming back to a totally unsettled living space has amplified the experience and I’m not landing well at all. To top it off, for the first days of landing, I’d chosen to lean on someone who doesn’t have the skills to support me.

Currently, I’m feeling a bit more settled. I’ve been picking away at the boxes, unpacking and discarding. I’ve been plugging away at getting through my workload, and I’m slowly feeling more ready to schedule playdates. I have experienced the odd transition of coming home from abroad before, and I know it can be challenging. I’ve read some articles that have confirmed this is a thing, not at all unique to me. So, if any of you have experienced something similar, I invite you to share with me. Whether you have tips to navigate, or simply want to speak it aloud with someone who gets it, please reach out!

Until next time,

A

by admin

Birthday in Cabo

I arrived in Cabo just in time to bring in my 36th Birthday. I landed the day before and snuggled right back into the beautiful community. It’s been a bit of a whirlwind since, and I can’t believe it has already been more than a week. In the little time I’ve been here, I’ve had many great meals, beach days and adventures. I’ve spent time with old friends and made new. I’ve gone for walks through the familiar streets and lay in the sand with the familiar view of the stunning arch.

It’s all sorts of bitter sweet, as I’m fast approaching the expiry of my tourist visa and have been sifting through a muddled slough of thoughts and feelings as I attempt to figure out my next move. In fact, I feel too unclear to write much more than a check in at this time, so I will keep it short.

I will say that the people here touch my heart in a way that I haven’t experienced in a long time. They are so open, honest, loving and POWERFUL, and I feel saddened at the thought of not having them as part of my daily life. Just having their regular presence makes me feel so much stronger, and with the added bonus of 365 days of warmth and sun, it’s exceptionally hard for me to think about a return to Canada.

Alas, I have parts of my heart there as well, and I’m trying to psych myself up for a return to my homeland. Wish me luck as I navigate the next weeks.

I also just want to take a moment to wish all the ladies out there a Happy Mother’s Day. Whether you have kids, have lost kids, have honorary or adopted kids, or are simply nurturing those about you, I see you, I honour you, and I hope you found some peace and joy on your day.

by admin

Another Farewell

The day I post this will be the same day that I transition, yet again. (Turns out I got swept away and this is actually going up a day late!) This time I return to Cabo. Puerto Vallarta has provided me with a mostly joyous and somewhat challenging experience that I will carry with me for life. I spent two and a half months here. Three if you count the 2 week stint when I visited in early January. In that time I met some interesting people, ate some great food, visited some sweet, neighboring towns, and did some serious self care and just a little shopping. I enjoy the city. I love the cobble stone streets, the different neighborhoods and the plethora of activities and food options. I love the lush green, the mountains and hills, the vast ocean crashing against the shore of the downtown core. I love the Zona Romantica with its colorful window displays, its abundance of rainbows, and its busy sidewalks. I love the quaint shops and galleries tucked into the Cinco de Diciembre neighbourhood, and I love the beautiful white bedroom nestled atop a spiral staircase that I’ve found myself residing in for the majority of my stay.

I love that songs filling the streets are alerts to fill up on gas, water and donuts. I love that the sidewalks are busted, uneven and lined with drooping powerlines. I love that I’m constantly inspired to stop and take photos of things that would never fly in Canada. Things like a rope as a barrier to the construction happening directly above the mass production of tortillas. Or, things like rebar sticking straight out in the middle of the sidewalk open for impaling the clumsy footed. I love most passersby say hola and that everyone addresses me as amiga. I love that the laundry guy remembers my name and prattles away in Spanish even though he knows I don’t understand a word. I love that the massage therapist I can afford to see regularly learned to speak English so well from videogames and I love that you can buy a 7 peso taco as easily as you can take in a superb twenty dollar plate in a fine dining establishment.

But, as with most love affairs, the things I loved are now being marred by things that get under my skin. The constant yapping of the neighbours dog wears thin on me. I hear it before I even make it into the main gate and I know to look forward to a night of interrupted sleep. The guy who must be learning to whistle who belts out the same part of the same tune over and over for hours has become a detriment to my workload. The Zumba music that filters its way on the wind from the park has impeded my focus for an hour per day and the heat, oh the heat. It is building and perhaps slowly frying my brain. I can’t be certain, but I’m pretty sure the laundry guy asked me why I’m so pale, and the answer is I might die if I were to lie out in the sun midday.

I’m being overly dramatic, more for the sake of humour than anything. But the truth is, these things are the things that make me long for home. For community. For familiarity. I can adapt to anything, I believe. I think we all can. And I like the challenge, to be honest! It makes me feel alive. I find it empowering. But I also long for a coffee with a safe friend where I can openly share my frustrations alongside some laughs. I suppose what I lack in Puerto Vallarta is community. There has been a steady stream of new and old faces that have been alongside me throughout my time, but that flow has stopped and I find myself alone. In some ways it is welcomed. It’s been nice to sit inside and read, work, do chores… live something resembling normal life. But I thrive on connection, I love daily coffee dates and routine walk and talks. While Cabo isn’t exactly home, it feels enough like home that I long to get there. It is where a large part of my heart and spirit remains. As soon as I felt ungrounded, I longed for my tribe there. I look forward to daily connections, delving into some self work, and spending my time more invested in the healing path, of myself and others. So, away I go!

by admin

Regulating

I came up against a lot this week. I was met with some of my trauma and my demons, I was presented with unique work challenges that impacted my sense of personal freedom, and I did some adulting that brought up some fear. I hit a space where my system was overloaded and I couldn’t function well.

I lost sleep, fought to take care of my basic needs, and felt fairly isolated in my beautiful Mexican apartment. I’ve been observing myself and reflecting for a long time. It is an inherent part of who I am, and my pursuit to “fix” myself is an ongoing and unwavering one. I think it has likely morphed from an asset to a detriment, or at the least it fluctuates between the two.

Anyways, as my mind created stories, made assumptions, got caught between cycles of righteous anger and crippling shame, I felt like I was drowning in uncertainty and fear. However, there was also another part of me active. The part that was observing the unhelpful thoughts, attempting to introduce alternative views, making suggestions to use the various tools I have added to my belt over the years. It was equally powerful, but it came with so much judgment.

I shouldn’t be feeling this way. I shouldn’t need so much. I should know how to better ask. I shouldn’t need to ask. I should be able to take care of this myself. I should know what to do. I should be less selfish. I should be more compassionate. I shouldn’t have put myself in this position. And on and on it goes.

Through all this angst, I could not find my feet. It took days. It took a sleepless night weeping and beating up my mattress for me to break. It took the kind and supportive voices of several friends before I could ground myself enough to benefit from the other tools at my disposal.

In hindsight, I see that my issue is nothing external. There will always be stressors that trigger things in me. I have a low threshold for discomfort and have internalized a lot of things in my life as trauma. I can be spun into an unmanageable emotional space quite quickly and, despite years of searching, I still do not know how to adequately self regulate. And that, my friends, is my biggest struggle.

I bring that energy into my connections, whether it be leaning on the support of those who can hold space or requesting support from those who can’t. While I so value having people in my life who will walk me through it when things feel unbearable (THANK YOU!), I think I finally get that I can’t rely on it. I need something bigger. I need something internal. I need less shoulds and more self compassion. I need to give myself space to walk through to the other side in the company of my higher self, my younger self, my wounded self.

It’s weird to have the knowledge in my brain, but not the recognition of its truth in my body. I’ve known this is what I’ve needed, but I couldn’t quite see what it meant. I couldn’t quite internalize it. I know its perilous even now, but I’ve had a glimpse of clarity and have some hope for the future of anxious nights.

If you feel like sharing some of your regulating tools, I would love to hear them. Wherever you are in the world and whatever your unique challenges, I wish you strength, clarity and all the self love you can muster to walk you through.

by admin

When life happens.

My oh my, I’ve missed two weeks now. Though, I’m going to go ahead and mark a Tuesday post as only a NEAR miss… because, well, self compassion is key.

I ended up at the tail end of a cold, going through a lot of feelings and transitions with the full moon and riding the impacts of my menstrual cycle on the first week so I went ahead and forfeited. This week however, I had every intention to post and ended up out adventuring with the ladies who are currently in the house with me and forgot all about it.

Anyhow, I thought about leaving it until the coming Sunday but decided I wanted to take advantage of a moment of spare time and creative energy. I’m just going to give a little overview of the past week and leave a more thorough reflection for Sunday, but here goes.

Last Saturday, the woman who rents the house I’m staying at year round, and her friend, came down for 10 days. I was, of course, a little nervous about sharing space with relative strangers and wondered about my ability to do so given my emotional and physical state. A couple mornings sharing coffee put that anxiety to rest and we ended up on some pretty amazing adventures together. They invited me out for meals and day trips and I so enjoyed having their company.

I got to see San Pancho, a gorgeous beach between Punta Mita and Sayulita, and Los Arcos by boat. On the same boat trip, we ended up riding alongside various pods of dolphins on and off for an hour or so. Most of the ladies even shared a moment in the sea with a particularly curious specimen.

Today, these fine folk depart for Nanaimo. I currently sit in my room writing while they run some last minute errands and get their packing out of the way. It is a bit bittersweet for me, as I know few people in Puerto Vallarta and I’m not particularly keen on being alone to move through dental work, my own preparation to move forward in my travels, and my processing of the time spent in and around this city. However, I also know that I’ve come up against this feeling time and again as I’ve navigated this 5 months abroad and seemingly every time I’ve been handed exactly what I needed. I felt the same way walking into the time with these ladies and now I’m sad to see them go. I felt the same coming to Puerto Vallarta to begin with, and met some lovely folks, had some fulfilling and amazing experiences, came up against my past in an enlightening way and have been guided to my next steps, or at least plenty of options.

I have some fear, some anxiety, some doubt… But I also have niggles of faith and curiousity that, I’m sure, will carry me through whatever comes up next. Wish me luck, gang, and never hesitate to reach out as I always welcome the connection and am coming to trust their timing.

by admin

Should I stay or should I go now!

People keep asking me when I’m coming home and the truth is, I’m not sure I want to.

I’ve randomly ended up in Mexico for nearly 5 months now and I thought maybe I’d miss Canada, miss my friends and family, be drawn to some familiarity, be filled with some home sickness, but I’m not experiencing any of those things. (Of course I miss you guys, but now in a visceral, “I can’t survive this,” kind of way.)

I feel like I was stuck in the worst rut, in all the ways. Not loving my job, not feeling inspired in my personal growth, not feeling of service, and reliving my plethora of trauma from the past two years.

Of course i believe that old adage, “wherever you go, there you are,” and I’ve seen my behaviour and beliefs take over while residing in Mexico too, but overall I feel a lot brighter and more hopeful amidst the palm trees under the beaming sun.

It’s already getting hotter and more humid as we slip into April, a glimpse into the summer intensity folks have warned me about since my arrival in November, but the thought of soaking up music in the evenings and exploring galleries after dark sounds equally enjoyable to me.

The opportunity I wanted more than anything has been offered to me in Canada. Silver platter, bells and whistles, and, despite that, I can’t help but feel like my time here is not yet done. I said I’d stay until it didn’t feel right anymore and, although my visa runs out in late May, it feels more congruent to land in Guatemala for a couple days and settle back in Mexico for however long they allow me than it does to fly back “home.”

Time will tell, but as I get close to decision time, I can’t help feeling like Canada is just not where I’m meant to be.

by admin

Yelapa

A few days ago, I took a short boat ride from Puerto Vallarta to another land.

Town consists of small, winding, cobble stone streets with a few quaint shops and restaurants. There are no cars, only quads and horses. I’ve been staying in a loft above a family owned restaurant right on the beach. The walk to the bathroom is lined with squawking chickens and I have to cross a thigh high river to get my coffee in the morning.

We hiked to a waterfall and splashed around in a lush pool in the jungle and attended a coming of age party for a fifteen year old girl where there were horses trained to dance to the music. We ate some great tacos and strolled the beach under the bright stars. We wandered the waters edge along an elevated cement path and explored a bizarre and luxurious abandoned house. Its been a neat few days where I’ve felt transported to another time.

Upon arrival to this gem of a place, i was informed that the pig tied up behind the kitchen was mean to be slaughtered for the dads birthday party on Sunday. I stopped to watch her root around in the dirt, snorting away, every time I walked to the bathroom or into town.

Today was the day she was killed for the festivities. I decided to watch because I eat meat and I’ve never actually watched the process. I worked with my brother a while and watched him butcher half animals, but I’d never actually seen the kill. It was more intense that I thought it would be. I don’t want to go into too much detail, but I will say it impacted me more than I thought it would.

I’ve been laying on the beach snuggling with a little pitbull puppy since. Settling my nerves. I figure I’ll try some of the pig meat, though I’ve heard it’s boiled rather than spit roast so I’m not sure how delicious it might be.

Anyhow, it’s been a lovely rural experience that I’m really grateful to have had, but after the party, I’m headed back to my home in Puerto Vallarta.

by admin

Music

Early in my university days, I was constantly inspired and trying new things. I was studying subjects that interested me, was volunteering at places and doing work I believed in, and was connecting with intelligent and curious people on the daily. I spent my mornings drinking coffee and listening to the hottest new Ted Talks and I felt constantly… engaged.

I stumbled upon a talk by a positive psychologist named Sean Achor and he spoke to how humans will always do what appears to be easiest. If sitting down on the couch and picking up the remote is that thing, you are likely to spend your time doing just that. I put by TV under a blanket with the remote in my bedroom and left my guitar out with sheet music open and the book I was reading bookmarked on the coffee table. It worked, and eventually I got rid of my TV altogether. I would like to say that I’m a proficient guitar player, but, what I CAN say is that 12 years later, I still don’t have a TV.

During this time, I also recognized how much more fulfilled I felt when I listened to music over other forms of entertainment. I dove into CBC Radio 2 and fell in love with the Signal with Laurie Brown. It played from 10 to midnight every night and I’d romance myself by laying comfortably on the floor with her radio program filling my ears and heart.

I posted an Instagram photo last week of a small Bluetooth speaker that I picked up at a Woolworth here in Puerto Vallarta. I don’t recall the caption, but I’m sure some likely thought it a bit tongue in cheek. However, this purchase was perhaps the best I’ve made in my time abroad. I’ve shazaamed tunes while out roaming the streets and have consequently been linked onto all sorts of amazing playlists through Spotify. Music has always been significant for me. I used to listen to the same song over and over until I knew every lyric. I’d sit at the computer for hours and belt it out when I was a teenager and I’m fairly certain it was the thing that got me through the fresh hell that was high school. When I’ve felt my life unmanageable as an adult, I’ve got in my car and driven with the tunes loud enough to drown out my thoughts. I’ve maintained the use of it as a tool, but I feel like it has been a while since I’ve listened to it just to enjoy it and be absorbed by it.

Right now, I’m here. Enjoying. Learning. Exploring. Feeling.

Every. Dang. Night. And it is so freaking good. Currently excited about Mardeleva. Check it.

by admin

“There’s a crack in everything, that’s how the light gets in.” -Cohen

I currently rest on a king-sized bed in a detached master suite that is accessed by a charming, yet treacherous metal spiral staircase. I can see the mountains and corrugated rooftops through the single pain windows and the open door that exposes the light blue tiled floor of the rooftop patio begs me to come and lounge in the sun. The concrete walls are stained and chipping, which is actually my favorite part. I love unfinished. Rustic. Textured. Discoloured.

The imperfections make it artful and endearing to me, and in this moment, I wish I could find the same appreciation for my crumbling pieces, the cracks in my foundation, the spots that are rusted from a lack of care.

The last year has been so challenging. The hardest I’ve gone through, I believe. I haven’t been able to find my footing, not really. I remember a different person before all this. The pregnancy grief is astounding in its own right, but more than that, the loss of the family I thought I was given the opportunity to have, the loss of the loving partner I thought I had found, still weigh unbearably heavy too. I thought I’d found some space and had opened my heart, but now, I’m not so sure I’ve healed at all.

I’m judging myself for having feelings, for wanting things, for engaging, for everything. I’m beating myself up and am overwhelmed with fear and anxiety. I want to be in a different place than I am, and I’m having a hard time loving myself up or finding compassion for my current experience. I want to feel differently. I want to behave differently. I want to feel strength and resolve and believe I have personal power. But, really, I just feel like the peeling, cracking, deteriorating walls. I’m looking at myself wondering if I’m strong enough to bear the weight of the roof. I think maybe I could use some mending and a fresh coat of paint to cover my flaws.

But, maybe, just maybe, my collapse and decay is equally intriguing, beautiful, and inspiring as I find these Mexican walls. Maybe the way I fragment is a sight to behold.

by admin

Settling in.

I’m still settling into my time in Puerto Vallarta. It’s been a bit challenging and I’ve had moments of wondering whether or not I made the right decision in coming here when I did. This entire trip to Mexico has been a series of greenlights that I’ve taken as an affirmation that I’m meant to be exactly where I am, doing exactly what I’m doing, meeting exactly who I’m meeting. It has been effortless and healing. I have been guided towards all kinds of connections and resources and have found energy and space to grow under the warm sun.

I’ve come up against internal blocks, I suppose. Issues from home haunting me and some discomfort around change as I’ve moved cities or homes. But, ultimately, it has been seamless. Even when I have landed in a decision I was unsure I made wisely, it has been apparent that I’m right where I meant to be.

This move, maybe not. It’s been choppy. I’ve made some poor choices, or at least choices that left me feeling less than awesome, that I perceive to be born from a sense of groundlessness. I’ve experienced some loneliness, some anxiety, and moments of paralyzing self doubt. I miss my Cabo tribe, but more than that, I fear that I won’t find ‘home’ here. It’s beautiful, exciting, full of potential, but also overwhelming. The anonymity of the big city and attempting to integrate will take time. Historically, when I’ve travelled, I’ve had no intention of landing. No desire to build community. Never hunting for classes or volunteer positions to fill my time, because my time has been so fleeting. But, here, I want to create a life for myself, if only temporarily, and it reminds me of landing in Nanaimo all those years ago.

Anyhow, I’ve now been here 2 weeks. A week ago, I reconnected with a friend of a friend and we hit it off really well. It has been encouraging, hopeful and uniquely fulfilling. We’ve become fast friends and have spent hours walking the city streets, trying new restaurants, scouring used bookstores and stopping in for yoga classes. We plan to attend a chocolate making workshop, an acrylic painting class, and perhaps some long overdue Spanish lessons. The nicest part is this new friend is from Victoria, so unlike the other connections I’ve made that are riddled with inherent grief, this one has the potential to carry forward indefinitely!

I’ve also been gifted the opportunity of bumping into those I felt uncomfortable with, which has allowed me to work through my feelings and resolve them. I’ve had moments of thinking of something just to have it show up in front of me. I’ve had the opportunity to practice settling myself amidst the discomfort which, I believe, is going to assist me in making perhaps the most influential decision I will have to make this trip, in a grounded and insightful way.

Maybe I’m still exactly where I’m meant to be simply because it’s where I am. Maybe a little more time here will reveal why I’m being presented with these specific challenges, opportunities and gifts. What I do know is that I’ve met so many amazing people on this trip that have altered the way I see myself and a lot of my relationships. I’ve felt so held and supported that I feel I’ll be able to navigate whatever comes next, even if it hurts.

by admin