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Enough of this emotional stuff, let’s talk about food!

I’ve decided to spend this weeks allotted writing time to reflect on my time in Mexico. I haven’t written too much about my day to day experience and thought it might be fun to do so! Most of you know I love food. I have a hard time turning down a taste of pretty much anything. In my early 20’s I stayed at an all inclusive in Puerto Vallarta and, despite venturing out into the world several times, my overall experience of the food was not noteworthy or enticing.

This time I have been constantly surprised by the rich flavors and unexpected combinations. I dined like a queen in Cabo and have stumbled upon some exceptional street food in Puerto Vallarta. I’ve taken plenty of shots of various establishments and plates and thought I’d take today to share some of them with you!

Taco stand around the corner from the apartment I’m inhabiting come March.

This photo was taken around the time that we realized this taco restaurant we had been eating at didn’t have a kitchen. The food was being cooked on a hot plate in the parking lot and the ‘counter’ was the tailgate of a truck. This was the first stop I made after arriving from the airport my first trip into Puerto Vallarta. I saw ‘7’ beside the pastor taco and assumed, after being in Cabo, that this was a $7 US taco. Big city, more expensive, right? Well, no. It’s 7 pesos, folks, which barely qualifies as money really. Needless to say, multiple trips were had and they are still the best tacos I’ve had to date.

Fresh fried curros! She does home parties, just in case you want to stuff your face with friends in the comfort of your home.

Most nights, about a meter away from the meat sizzling on the hot plate, resides this woman. She fries up and sugars fresh curros and sells them for 6 pesos a piece, or 60 pesos a coil. That’s about the equivalent of 37 cents and $4, respectively. They are delicious. We were never quite sure what her hours were, so sometimes we stocked up before dinner. I’d like to say we waited to eat them, but dessert first may have been the reality.

Hamburguesa!

We found this gem shortly after. The ambience leaves something to be desired though. It’s on a relatively busy street corner, on something sort of resembling a sidewalk, I guess. The Mexican symphony of honking, rumbling cars was our entertainment and when we arrived one of the waitresses was plucking the cooks eyebrows. Needless to say, I didn’t have high hopes. However, it was one of the best burgers I’ve had in Mexico so far, and it too is a short walk from “home.”

I’m currently staying at a friends place while I land back in Puerto Vallarta. Around the corner is a big market that sells a variety of wares and fresh foods. Sort of the Mexican version of Granville Island, except it’s a regular thing, not a novelty.

Whatever you desire, they will mix it up for you! Plus, they’ll teach you the Spanish words for the fruits and veg. Or, at least try to…

This guy is in the far corner. He sells medium sized fresh juices or smoothies for 25 pesos. The bustle of the room always leaves me feeling like I’m trying to make a bid for service in a busy deli in New York. Next door, there is a shop with breads and cheeses where we have often grabbed snacks on the way to the major bus station that takes you to Sayulita and Bucerias. There is also a sweet little shop that sells natural health products and things like incense and essential oils. Delightful!

There is a decent taco stand around the corner from here too and the wait staff is so friendly they even held my friend when she was crying at the table. (Travel isn’t all fun and games, folks.) Despite this hospitability, you can only eat so many tacos. One night, in desperate longing for something other than, we roamed and stumbled upon this place.

Pork sandwiches and fresh juices sold in bags!

Imagine incredibly uncomfortable grated metal bar stools, a tarp that rests against your back to provide shade, and service that consists of a hand reaching out, seemingly from nowhere, holding a plastic plate with your hot sandwich on it. Another 60 peso gem.

The finished product.

When you are craving something sweet after, simply turn around and visit my favorite lady in town. I’ve sat down to eat my sandwich disappointed she’s nowhere in sight and then turned to see she’s silently arrived with her case. I’m not sure how she does it, but I suspect she’s lowered from heaven on a fluffy cloud.

Wonderful selection of sweet treats. I’ve tried 3 so far and 2 of them were top notch. Best part, they’re only 10 pesos a pop!

I opted to write this before breakfast and I’m now starving. I’m going to head out into the world to see what I can find. I wish you happy snacking and will write to you again soon!

by admin

Leaving Cabo

I’ve arrived back in Puerto Vallarta and as I walked the cobble stone streets to meet my friend at the beach, I felt confident in my decision to return.

This past week was a mix of beautiful, profoundly touching, joyful and heartbreaking moments.

I took every opportunity I could to soak up my last few visits but it felt like it just wouldn’t be, couldn’t be enough.

I experienced some deep connection in Cabo. I feel like I’ve been re-inspired and lit up in ways I didn’t even know I needed. I experienced love, real love. Appreciation of who I am and demonstrations of generous affection. It was hard to say goodbye, and even harder to imagine it only being a “see you later.:

I got used to daily voice messages, meals and beach walks. I got used to roaming the streets and certain places became like home. I had a routine of sorts and settled. For the first time, I created a base abroad and it feels surreal to part ways.

I shed a lot of tears and clung onto every word of wisdom, every kindness that was lovingly sent my way.

Part of me didn’t want to leave. Part of me wanted to hang onto every one of these people who have contributed to my heart opening and healing over the past few months. Part of me was scared to leave behind this new found safety net and part of me was worried I made the wrong decision in leaving when I did.

However, the other part of me felt it was time. That the next step was to come land in Puerto Vallarta. To build community and confidence in another place I may learn to call home.

As I entered the familiar city center and heard a familiar ‘yoohoo’ from down the beach, I knew I’m where I’m meant to be. I also know that heavy heart and the tears shed are an indication of the depth of connection I experienced.

As I cried on one particular shoulder, I was told they were tears of joy.

It sure feels like grief, but I’ve heard grief is love with no place to go. Filled with love sounds pretty joyful to me, and extending it out as I move into new connection seems like a task I’m willing to embrace.

by admin

Weighted Words

I communicate best with written word. I have plenty of time to contemplate and adjust to ensure the selected combination of symbols adequately represents what it is I’m attempting to express.

I can spend hours, days, weeks, editing a sentence’s constitution and structure. Writing and rewriting to create a flow that states my perspective without unnecessary emotion, or blame, or rigidity, or mistruths and misgivings.

But the reality is, we experience the words of others through the lens of our experiences. Carefully executed or eloquently displayed, doesn’t matter. Our perception will shape our understanding. I’ve been taught that communication is the key to relational longevity, and I believe curiousity to be the backbone of said key. If I don’t ask for clarification, if I don’t express how it is I interpret their expression to assess my understanding, all can be lost.

As Valentines approaches, I’ve been reflecting on the words “I love you.”

They can be light and sweet, or heavy and riddled with expectation. They can mean very different things in different types of relationship and can represent entirely unique things depending on who utters them and to whom.

I put it out to others to see what they mean when they say these words, and received a pleasantly surprising number of responses, including:

“I welcome you to my life, defaults and qualities all the same.”

“I adore who you are and what you bring to my life.”

“Right now, and only right now, I will behave in a caring, considerate, respectful and honest way towards you. No future promises implied.”

“I know you and invite you into my life, and I allow you to know me too”

“Instead of plucking the flower, I water it.”

and perhaps my favorite,

“Love is a verb, what we do matters so much more than what we say.”

I’ve spent years attempting to define for myself what I mean when I say them, what feelings I experience in my body that urge me to say them, and what they mean in various contexts. Sometimes they fall out of my mouth, sometimes they’re carefully contemplated for months before I effortfully push them from my heart through my lips.

While I have reflected plenty on my use of these words, this past week I reflected on what it means for me what I HEAR these words. I assume that people mean what I mean, and that has proven to be a harmful lack of curiousity.

In partnership, I say these words to represent commitment. I mean that I’m choosing you. I see a future with you. I’m prioritizing you and our connection. I’m willing to put the work in because I believe our connection is special and valuable. It’s weighted, intentional, carefully express. I might feel the flutter and be overwhelmed with the hearts expansion well before I say the words. But, I choose to use the words only once the feeling is anchored in the depths of these intentions.

I assumed when my last partner said those words, that we were on the same page. I forgot that words are subjective. I forgot not everyone is so careful. I forgot to clarify.

I forgot that, even with the intention, it’s not always enough. I forgot that sometimes loving someone might look like withdrawing from them.

So, this Valentines Day, I’m practicing a different type of love. The type that is boundless and without condition. That is free flowing and without attachment. An appreciation of what is offered and shared, mixed with an acceptance of its transitory nature. As I prepare to leave Cabo and all the folks I’ve come to love, I want nothing more than to be present and to revel in every last moment of sharing physical space with all that have touched my life.

by admin

Bittersweet

I’m sad today. I woke up at about 3am with my head spinning, followed shortly after with flowing tears. 

This trip has been unlike any in my past. Generally, I move about a lot, am mostly alone, and converse almost exclusively with my journal. I don’t need to work and life is entirely devoid of routine. During my time in Mexico, I have landed in one place for months, have developed some wonderfully meaningful relationships, and have been working almost full time remotely. I haven’t had much, or taken much time to explore and I have prioritized getting to know and spend time with my new tribe.

Last night, we said farewell to a lovely human from Portland. He was the one who brought me electrolit and saltines when I was holed up in the hotel with Montezuma’s revenge, he was the one I taught yoga too mid Christmas day, and one of the four that I spent New Years Eve watching fireworks with on Medano Beach. We signed a shirt for him and when he opened it up to see our signatures,  he choked up and shed tears. I’m so grateful to have crossed paths with this man, and to have shared some fairly substantial moments with him over the past few months.

It’s a weird thing when I travel. Every person I meet, I approach with the understanding that our connection is finite. The old adage, people are meant to come into our lives for a reason, a season or a lifetime. I assume these connections will be fleeting, that they will fall either into a reason, a season, or some combination of each.

However, I’ve also never spent 3 months deepening my connections with fellow travellers or folks who live in other places. I’ve never made another place home. even temporarily. Hell, I often dont even unpack my suitcase. Here, I’ve dove into some deep inner work with people. I’ve gone through the holidays the first time without my folks. I’ve navigated my anger, sadness and grief with their helping hands and I’ve leaned on them for spiritual guidance. I’ve opened my heart and, as I lay awake in the middle of the night with some unexpected grief around my ex, I realized I’m not ready to grieve more losses. 

Days ago, while writing one of the billion goodbyes I’ve never had the gumption to send, I wrote that I hoped he might someday love someone the way I love him. As painful as it has been, I’m grateful that I have it in me to devote myself, commit, learn and grow to accommodate another person like I did him. I’m also grateful that the hurt didn’t shut my heart down completely. (Though it looked a bit gloomy for a bit there…) 

Ive been blessed to experience such beautiful connection, but that often comes with such deep sadness. I felt as though I was approaching these new bonds with a level of understanding, a level of separation, a level of grace that I’ve had letting go of deep travel connections I’ve had in the past. But, I think I’m wrong. 

As i approach my departure, i will attempt to internalize the words of Leonard.
“Your eyes are soft with sorrow. Hey. Thats no way to say goodbye.”

by admin

Presence- The state or fact of existing.

I lay on the beach in Todos Santos listening to the powerful waves smashing against the shore. I felt present. Fully present.

I had no towel, the majority of my skin resting against the warm sand. The ocean was loud, all encompassing, thought blocking. The sun was peeping out from behind wispy clouds and a slight wind washed over me keeping me cool enough to stay alert. As I lay there feeling my body breathing, exposed to the elements, I recognized something.

I have heard it a billion times, ya know. The truth that life is only a series of moments strung together. I’ve been studying and practicing Buddhism for years and have gone into silent retreat for significant lengths of time to try to intentionally anchor into each passing moment. I’ve learned to focus my attention on the rise and fall of my chest or belly. I’ve accustomed to tuning into the sensation of air moving in the little patch of skin beneath my nostrils. When I choose to, I can drop into a profound stillness with a single breath.

You might think that means I reside in some state of peace or understanding, but it is not true. I let my anxious mind run rampant. I still get so wrapped in my chosen thought patterns that I can’t see the forest from the trees. I still experience debilitating obsession and deep sadness. But, in that moment, on that beach, I got it.

I understood that choosing to tune into my surroundings, choosing to acknowledge the humbling power of the open expanse of water, and choosing to land in my senses allowed me to find unadulterated joy.

I recognized that all the forward thinking puts pressure on relationships, my self, my work. I realized that my hopes and dreams for the future debilitate my present and hinder my possibilities. I understood that I could choose presence, and ultimately happiness, by simply recognizing that all that is really happening in any given moment is breath moving in and out of this vessel as it settles into its environment. If I let go of where each moment will take me, and instead simply revel in them, I can be. And being is enough.

I feel tearful as I write this. It’s so simple. So profound. And it so easily slips away.

by admin

Release.

“I release you. I release my expectations of you. I release the pain. I release our baby. I release the vision of the family I thought we might build one day. I release my connection to you, both past and present. I sit under the full moon, with the energy of the universe as my witness, and release you, us, our past, our potential.”

My first week in Mexico, I was distracted. I landed, explored, and filled my days with bus trips, people, activities. As I hit the week mark, knowing (I thought) that I were about to return home, the anxiety set in. I didn’t want to go home to the dark basement, the cool days, the slog of work and the debilitating grief, the obsessive thoughts, the overwhelming disappointment, the insane hope and attempts at reconnection/rekindling. I was terrified of myself, my life as I knew it, and I was sad and distracted.

I got a positive covid test and embraced another couple weeks abroad. As I processed everything, and shared with my travel buddy, I realized I could stay. And I did. Two months later, I still reside in Mexico.

It is hard to gauge whether I’m healing or am simply distracted from a process I will have to carry on with whenever I return home. Either way, I am so grateful from the space. I spent more than a year in the grips of the struggle and I’m now having moments of strength, joyful presence, open hearted, unincumbered connection. My days are spent working, exploring, video chatting with friends new and old, and hanging out with members of my Cabo tribe. My life is full, my heart-at times- is full. I feel more like myself than I have in years. I am writing again! Both in my journal and in the public sphere.

I have been attending yoga classes, taking moments to be still with myself, meeting likeminded and inspiring folks that are assisting me in comfortably residing in my skin and pursuing my spiritual growth. Things are good, and I don’t give my pain as much weight.

Having said all that, I still engage with the person who the pain centers around. I still let our little interaction spin me out. I still watch my mind create and recreate conversations I know there is no point in having. I still allow my feet to hit the pavement while my mind is distracted by the swirl of frustrating and fruitless thought. It’s better, like SO MUCH better, than it was. I’m moving along a little more gracefully and gaining some distance, but I keep engaging when I know it doesn’t serve me. Or likely him. Or us, in whatever formation we take.

I stood outside of a restaurant last night, after stuffing my face with delicious tacos, and I disclosed my process with a friend here in Cabo. He said things I know to be true, I’m hurting myself, I’m waiting until I feel better and self sabotaging, its normal- to some extent- given our history and my wounding. But he also said “there are so many people here in Cabo that love you and want to spend time with you.” And it’s true, not just of Cabo. I connected intensely with the folks in Puerto Vallarta, I still have regular conversations with those who love me at home. And, yet, I’m awarding so much mental energy in someone who doesn’t offer me even half of what I have offered him.

I deserve better. I want someone who knows I deserve better and will do his best to show up in a way that is caring, compassionate, loving, intentional. I want someone who will work alongside me to build a relationship that lasts a lifetime. I know that reserving even part of my heart and energy for him is only setting me back from attaining what I do want, from engaging fully with the one who is meant for me. So, this past full moon, I smudged with some Palo Santo and let the ethereal light begin to wash away my attachment.

I hope, moving forward, that I will be able to maintain a distance that allows me to really heal, to move forward, to make space for the love I desire and deserve.

by admin

Fear or self care?

I just landed back in Cabo San Lucas after a couple weeks fluttering about Puerto Vallarta. My experience there was surreal. I was nervous to go, to leave the comfort of the people and routine that I established over my five and a half weeks in Cabo. I hummed and hawed about making the trip, and spontaneously booked my flight in a moment of consternation, much like I did the initial trip to Mexico. I was concerned about staying with a woman I had little previous interaction with and wondered about my emotional, mental and spiritual stability as I ventured off on my own in a new land. This past couple years have been challenging, both personally and globally. While staying in Cabo for nine days with a friend from home was something I was prepared for, months abroad flying solo was not what I had anticipated.

However, I landed in Puerto Vallarta, the woman met me at the airport and made sure I was grounded, fed and content to lay my head. She was an excellent tour guide that connected me with the recovery community, a beautiful yoga class, great restaurants and second hand shops. She was excited to wander the city streets with me and brought me to quiet beaches and stunning neighbourhoods. The place she invited me to share was gorgeous, with wrought iron fencing, quaint, colourful furniture and a spiral staircase up to a detached master bedroom and rooftop patio. We had coffee every morning before departing on our adventures and even just the visual of our coffee mugs bring me so much joy.

Several days in, we planned for a day trip out of town. As we prepared to leave in the morning, and stopped for giant cups of $3 fresh pressed juice, we reached out to another friend who was traveling with her family. This is a woman who I’ve crossed paths with in various capacities for years and she agreed to meet us for a visit in town. Another friend met us too and our Nanaimo based lady tribe collided, explored, shopped and ate in the streets of Bucerias. This brief exploration encouraged our friend to extend her stay and a few days later she joined us in the apartment.

We had late nights out eating amazing food, put on heels and dresses and explored night markets and fancy seafood restaurants. We roamed the streets taking photos of murals and stopping for Mexican snacks. We sat in church pews and spent an afternoon in reverence in a graveyard. I am still reeling and processing the journey but there are a few things I know for sure.

I felt so comfortable in my skin. I was able to express myself freely. I could make jokes and laughed harder than I had in years, and often. I could explore and process my feelings and thoughts, I could be completely honest, I could offer guidance and insight, and every step was encouraged, respected, and honoured. I felt myself crack in connection in Cabo, but in PV, I blew wide open.

As I stood outside this morning, sipping on coffee and enjoying the last of the pink clouds from the rising sun, I realized how much fear I’ve lived in in my not so distant past. When I was back home, I felt as though I was constantly monitoring and managing myself under the guise of self care. I wouldn’t stray to far from home and my routine as I feared my inner resources weak and limited. I wouldn’t go out in the day if I thought my reserves incapable of both going out with a friend and buckling down to work and I wouldn’t sacrifice a moment of sleep out of fear that I wouldn’t be able to manage my obligations and commitments. I tried to control more than I simply lived in a flow. I didn’t take opportunities because few things felt as important as managing my energy and stress levels.

As I found myself regularly arriving home at eleven at night happily exhausted in PV, I realized my ‘self care’ of recent years has been more about living in fear than anything. Yes, of course, it is important to rest, but I was missing out on life to manage one small aspect of it, the obligations I have to other people. I stayed up until midnight on New Years Eve only one year out of the past nine, thinking it not worth throwing my energy for even a day. This year I stayed out until two watching fireworks and swimming under the stars, and I still experience joy when I think of the feeling of being warmly embraced in the Sea of Cortez as the music from the beach infiltrated my ears and the lights from the boats twinkled over the surface and into my eyes. You know what? I was tired, I didn’t feel great the next day and it made traveling by multiple planes harder than it may have otherwise been. But, it was entirely worth it and I have zero regrets.

During my time in Mexico, I’ve managed to go with the flow, to check in on when I need to rest and what it needs to look like, and to get through my work, all while actually enjoying the beauty and abundance of life. Yes, somedays I feel a bit burnt out. Sometimes its hard for me to lift my feet for the long journey back to my accommodations, sometimes a paragraph seems to take me a lifetime because my brain is too tired to find the words, but mostly, I’m more content, more alive, and entirely satisfied with the overall quality of my life.

I anticipate, at some point, I will need to slow down, integrate and find a new routine. For now, though, I’m going to carry on in the flow of life, doing my best to embrace what is in front of me and to let my heart guide me into the boundless potential. I want to take a second to thank those who are reading and taking a moment to send me their thoughts. Your encouragement to carry on writing has given me the necessary motivation to keep going. These moments to reflect in a meaningful way are exactly what I need amidst the bustle and I don’t know that I would do it without your support. I appreciate you.

by admin

Universal guidance

Buenos dias, amigos y amigas!

I realized I haven’t written here in ages and it has been mostly due to a lack of inspiration. This blog allowed me to land a job writing professionally, and while I am grateful and the lifestyle is awesome, my personal writing and reflection process has suffered greatly.

Alas, about 5 weeks ago I landed in Cabo San Lucas on the Baja peninsula with a journal. I have written close to daily and, it turns out, that is all I needed to reach a point of interest in sitting down to write for you.

I hope to maintain a writing practicing while I’m down here, and ideally whenever I return home as well. There is something powerful about bringing pen to paper that gifts me more insight than the thoughts can provide swirling in my head or cascading out of my mouth.

I’m currently sitting in my accommodations watching the sky change colors over the Sea of Cortez. This has been the first blessing of every day since I arrived. I want to share a bit of my story coming here, as much as a reminder for me of universal alignment as it might be of interest to you. A friend from home extended an invitation to come share a condo in Mexico. I hummed and hawed in desperate need of an escape from my grief and anxiety filled life but was captured on the West Coast with various commitments.

I had been invited to teach yoga in a couple retreats with a friend of mine and signed up for an annual Buddhist silent retreat with my teacher as well. My hope was that these sweet opportunities would allot me some freedom from myself, but the first retreat was cancelled, and I decided to take the brief 9 day window in my schedule to fly to Mexico.

Aside from some group lunches and a couple deep conversations, my friend and I didn’t know each other all that well. As an almost exclusively solo traveller, I wondered how well it would go, but figured anything can be okay for 9 days and I felt comfortable enough to tell him I needed to be alone, so away I went. It was awesome. He was fun and easy to get on with. We shared responsibilities around the space beautifully, went on excursions around neighboring towns, made a daily trek to a favorite coffee shop and strolled down to the beach to soak up the sun on the regular.

Three days before my scheduled flight home, I went to get the covid test required for entry into Canada. I was positive. I had no symptoms, though my friend had what we thought was an air conditioner induced head cold. Turned out we both got the notorious flu and we stayed somewhat isolated together for roughly 14 days. Fortunately, we had tapped into an amazing community through our shared support group and they brought us groceries and met us for distanced beach visits and we got through it with some peace and wellness. I was so grateful to be both vaccinated and with a familiar face as I navigated the reality of having this ailment that was the source of years of fear mongering. I’m happy to report it was mild. My energy levels were good, it never went into my chest, and the majority of the sickness was comparable to a sinus cold. I did have one day where it felt as though I’d been beaten with a meat mallet. My skin, particularly in my left shoulder and neck, was extremely sensitive to touch. But as soon as the sun came out and I had the heat on my body, it became manageable and away I went. We ordered food through Uber eats and carried on attending our support group online.

During this time I was presented with several options to extend my stay. Through a series of “coincidences,” one man I’d met ended up extending the offer for me to stay in a hotel room until the end of January. A friend in Puerto Vallarta invited me to stay with her over the first couple weeks of January l and I was offered rooms about Cabo and San Jose if I so desired to stay beyond that. My apartment back home flooded the day before I departed and is currently ripped apart with my things in storage or discarded. I’ve had nothing but green lights to stay abroad and have taken it as a sign. I’ve decided to remain here as long as it is easier to do so. I’m trusting it will continue to be obvious one way or another and am using it as an opportunity to tune in and listen to the guidance.

Continued… (January 6, 2022)

The universal guidance carried on in other ways as well. It just so happened that two of the women I started some work with recently were in Puerto Vallarta area at the same time so we have managed to connect. I happened to have a lull between work projects that has awarded me the freedom to explore with them freely. I decided to return to Cabo on the 13th which aligned me for a visit with a friend from a Buddhist retreat center who happens to be there for a wedding. It continues on and never ceases to amaze.

I’ll touch on one last thing before I sign off. It’s proving to be easy to get carried away as my mind and heart are bursting with insight and gratitude! However, I know the attention span of most doesn’t allow for engaged reading of long ramblings.

For about 17 years I have been practicing yoga and, for roughly 12, I’ve been involved with Buddhist teachers and meditation practices. I have attended silent retreats and countless sits and ceremonies. I have also been blessed with the opportunity to spend time in centers, ashrams and monasteries around the world. I have simultaneously been invested in a support network centered around staying sober and am a few weeks away from celebrating 10 years free of being altered by substance.

Throughout this decade I have ping ponged between spiritual paths. In 2018 I took refuge in a monastery in Nepal and fully committed myself to the Buddhist path. In 2019 I did more silent retreat work than I’d ever done, and the experience was heart and mind opening. In early 2020, I hit a wall and fell into a deep depression. Through a series of events, I ended up recognizing that I needed both paths in tandem, and have been attempting to bring them into alignment since.

Here, in Puerto Vallarta, I found a yoga teacher who guides practices in a club space for my sober tribe. Throughout the first class, I was nearly brought to tears several times as I was guided through familiar movements while being surrounded by slogans and literature that have influenced my life for years. We were encouraged to adopt phrases from said literature to use as mantra and ended class with the traditional kirtan chant ‘Om Mani Padme Hung,’ which just happens to be tattooed on my wrist. I have taught yoga in sober houses using some of the same methods but being guided myself integrated aspects of myself together in a way I hadn’t yet fully experienced and I am tearfully grateful to have landed here, in that class, at this time.

I can’t get over the way things have unfolded and continue to unfold as I explore Mexico. I spoke to my mentor before I left home about my desire to travel being rooted in the experience of flow that I have trouble accessing in my ‘normal’ life. My goal this year is to tune into the way I approach life as I explore, the feelings I have as I trust my intuition and listen to the universal guidance. I hope that I might be able to apply the understanding of transience, the acceptance of uncertainty, and the ability to remain openhearted anyways whenever I return to normal life, or embrace whatever my new normal turns out to be.

**This reflection began before my most recent post.

by admin

Gran Amor

A year ago, almost to the day, I made the difficult choice to terminate a pregnancy. It took me months to come to this heartbreaking decision and I have been in a challenging grief process in the months, now year that followed it. My partner, at the time, chose to leave me to manage the feelings and hormones alone and the extra level of hurt was incomprehensible. In hindsight, I am actually shocked that I made it through the debilitating emotional pain without slipping into the depression that used to haunt me through far less.

On Mothers day, an emotionally trying day, this person reached out to me and told me he was still in love with me. He told me he wanted the life together I so longed for and that we saw a glimpse of in the months prior. I resisted at first, and in hindsight I can’t help but wishing I’d stuck to my guns, but instead, I took him back. We had a good month or so before all the promises he made were broken, all the kindness and understanding lost, all the lies apparent, all the compassion dissolved. Through counseling and connecting with others, I learned more about terms like gas lighting, love bombing and narcissism. Despite understanding that I had found myself in a toxic connection, I have struggled to let go.

My brother is a chef and on one of the many occasions he lost a fingertip to a clumsy knife maneuver, the doctor asked him if he wished to keep the dismembered piece of extremity. My brother, being the practical kind of guy he is, said something along the lines of ‘why the heck would I want to do that?’ To which the doctor replied that, sometimes when people go through a traumatic experience, they find comfort in holding on to a piece of it. I held onto my ex with the thought that losing him completely would somehow make the loss of the baby harder, but the reality seems to be that trying to hold on was the more difficult path.

So, when we broke up the second time, I attempted to move on. I didn’t want to stay stuck on this guy who clearly didn’t care for me for the rest of my life after all! So, I met a fella online under the guise of developing a friendship. We communicated perfectly, we called each other on what we saw with kindness, we had mutual respect, we shared common interests, we had similar values, wanted children, the list goes on and on. Only one thing, I was just sort of, well, bored. I was still spinning about the confusing relationship I was too freshly out of, I was still emotionally connected to the toxic cycle, I still had delusion about its future potential.

I suppose I could have just ended it with the new guy, and I did attempt to a few times and was consistently transparent about my entire process, but I hoped, with time, he might pull me out of the weeds. A healthy connection would trump the toxic one and I’d eventually be so happy for what I’d found and so confused about why I’d resisted. Which was unfair, and unrealistic, it turns out.

However, in this time where I attempted to embrace this kind person I was not ready for, or perhaps not compatible with, I did a lot of reading. In my research, I discovered that going from toxic relationship to healthy relationship tends to come with common experiences like what I went through. The push/pull dynamic, weird trust building protest behaviour, hypervigilance and other wonderfully endearing qualities are likely to pop up. It was stated that the overwhelming experience will be that of doubt and skepticism over a perceived lack of ‘passion,’ a word that is often just used to explain the highs and lows of trauma bonding.

So, I asked myself (and google) what it takes to embrace the nice guy. How do I get out of this cycle and revel in stability? How do I develop a partnership with a person who can give me the family I want? The thing that was suggested was doing activities together that excited you, that increased your heart rate, got your blood moving. A study was done where men walked across one of two bridges. One was high, narrow and wobbly, the other wide, stable and low. At the end of each was the same woman. Research showed that the men who walked across the sketchy bridge were more strongly attracted to the woman. Their fear response, stress hormones and racing heart were attributed to attraction and romantic connection. The solution to boredom with a decent human? Jump out of a plane together!

This incredibly long preface brings me to the point of my reflection today. I am currently in Mexico. I’m actually in a plane bound from Mexico City to Puerto Vallarta as I write. I arrived on November 23rd into Cabo San Lucas, was unable to fly home on December 2nd after contracting COVID 19, and decided to stay indefinitely. It is now January 1st, 2022. I brought in the New Year on Medano beach submerged in warm water beneath the stars and the fireworks. I was with 3 beautiful humans I’ve met on my travels. As I swam, alone a moment amidst the chaos, I felt pure joy. So much gratitude, awe and love. I even laughed like a crazy lady!

I have been reflecting a lot on love. I felt deep, profound love for the man who I got pregnant with, struggled to find comparable love with someone who treated me like gold, and now find myself reveling in the universal love that I tap into whenever I travel. I feel love with relative strangers that sometimes appears to transcend the experience of those I’ve shared my life with for years, and I can’t help but question what happens when you collide with other explorers. At times I’ve attributed it to the presence that travel demands of you. As you roam new streets and jump accommodations, you need to pay attention more than when you drive the same road, to the same place, to see the same people. Not speaking the language forces you to connect with people differently, tune into subtleties, engage more fully. Perhaps the act of engaging in new challenges, crossing those metaphorical suspension bridges, is what spurs the unusual depth and openness.

The human need for belonging, a need not a want. As I move through different cities and spaces, I indulge wholeheartedly in the kindness of strangers. I cried in my hotel room this trip, while I navigated Montezumas revenge and the delusion of being all alone, feeling as though my cravings for saltines and my complete lack of energy to acquire them was more dire than it likely was. In the morning, a kind new friend brought me Electrolit drinks, probiotic yoghurt, and my much desired crackers and again, I cried. This time because of the exceptional kindness and compassion. This is only one of countless examples where I’ve been witness to the beauty of humanity and let it open my heart.

“Belonging takes shape on the grounds of shared experiences… connected through their common appreciation of what it’s like to find the thread of belonging over and over again. [It] feeds both an urgent hunger to connect and a quiet dread of the inevitable farewell. Sometimes it can feel like walking with one hand stretched out to the world- open, gentle, receptive- while the other hand is pressed against the heart-guarded and reserved- where the cut of the latest dis-attachment heals.”

I have remained more closed on this trip than many prior, but it’s shifting and, as it does, it is helping me to leave behind my pain and make space for new. As my heart gently unfurls, and my connections deepen, I feel the bittersweet-ness and immense allure of the human experience, the travel experience in particular.

I visited the art walk in San Jose del Cabo and stopped to admire a painting. I saw sadness and grief in the face of the subject, while my friend noted comfort and ease. We asked the artist what his intention had been and he simply responded with, “love.”

How true. How astute. How beautiful.

by admin

Fall Reflections

I haven’t wrote in a while, my few readers will likely have noticed! I have sat to do so several times, but haven’t found enough words to feel it worth posting. Today, I am determined to post despite not being sure I have much to say.

The thing I’ve been reflecting on lately is connection. I have a lot of amazing people in my life. However, this year I’ve come up against some interesting realizations that have temporarily, or permanently blocked some of those connections from existing within my life. I had a really close friend, who I’d been through hell and high water with, many times throughout the past 10 years. My experience was that our many disagreements left me feeling unheard and disrespected. I tended to dismiss this feeling and wash it away with justifications and attempts at acceptance that “that’s just how he is.” In a public forum, a fight we had had many times was witnessed. In that witnessing, my experience was validated by countless observers, and my strength to withstand it dissolved. We haven’t spoke since, and while I think of him often, I’m not sure how to resolve it, or if there is anything to resolve.

I continue to evaluate my relationships, particularly those that are near to my heart. I’ve withdrawn a lot, especially in the fall months. I find little reserves within myself to manage the tumultuous nature of the world we currently find ourselves in, and in that lack of resources, I am finding I need a different sort of connection. I’ve found myself reaching for the feminine energy in my life now more than ever. I finally see the difference, and value, in speaking with other women. I find more strength, more acceptance, and more kindness. Let me state, I do not believe these traits are sexed, I know many sensitive and kind men as well, but the understanding I’ve been experiencing in my lady tribe has been where I’ve been most drawn.

In this process, I have not so gracefully withdrawn from other connections. I find myself shutting down more easily when offended and far less willing to extend my energy where I do not feel ease and support. Perhaps this is how most people approach their lives? I’m not sure. Perhaps I’m hurting myself in distancing. It’s hard to say.

I remember a counselor telling me years ago that I put everyone on my inner ring. He talked of my being a planet and that it’s okay to determine some as more worthy than others to be on the ring closest to my orbit. That I could decide where to place connections and offer energy accordingly. I have always had trouble with this. For two reasons. First, I hate deciding who warrants more of my time and energy. I feel as though its judgmental and in denial of the spiritual union I’ve come to believe in. Second, I tend to open myself easily and see the best in people. This results in my making fast and deep bonds that I don’t foresee, or recognize, as being more harmful than not.

Right now, the ability to decipher seems to be coming out of necessity. Perhaps an ability to listen to myself more deeply. Perhaps a level of sheer exhaustion that doesn’t allow me the flexibility I once prided myself on. Regardless, I will continue to reach out to those who nurture me and try to judge my assessments less. I know that just because a relationship isn’t working for me in any given moment, it doesn’t mean there’s anything inherently wrong with it and that my taking care of myself doesn’t have to be a slight to another persons character.

by admin