Category: Connection

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

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

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

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