Shamanism

I spent the weekend doing a training with the Jaguar Path. Its a program which blends yoga and shamanism and I think its such a perfect blend of what I want to do. What always astounds me about these weekend long retreats is how powerful they are. The power comes from being with a group of people that validate and are representations of these amazing ways of looking at humanity and life through energies and positivity and peace. Its hard to specify the exact qualities in a "spiritual" community. Call it hippie, call it new age, call it yogis, shamans, etc. its the same group of people that are waking up to these truths. Even a lot of religious people may be grasping onto the fundamentals beliefs which span across almost any spiritual belief system, just with different names and prophets. But beyond the community which is just warm and non judgemental and overall feels safe, is the healing itself. I find that mental health is a treatment is a symptom reducer is a fix, but its not necessarily meant to be, a true cure. The difference in the body language and emotional state before and after a healing like the chakra illumination was remarkable. Undeniable, intangible but clearly evident. Changes in the voice in the aspect the affect the attributes of the person were remarkable. The combination of these two elements, the comaraderie and the healing, the togetherness, the exchange from being the healer to the recipient of healing, the entire process is just astounding in how curative it is. I went into the weekend rather angry and stressed, feeling resentful and a bit out of control. After the cleansing and the communicating and the connecting and overall the validation and reminder of these truths and information which make so much inherent sense to me, I feel relaxed, excited, invigorated, inspired. That is the kind of healing which I want to bring all over the world. Namaste, Thank you.

"You want to be a writer? Great! Call yourself a writer when people ask you what you do. Put it as your occupation on Facebook. There. Now you're a writer." 

So I've been settling into my parents house, unpacking and redecorating my childhood bedroom. I've had a lot to reflect on since the past year taught me many life lessons. I had some of the hardest as well as the greatest months. Some ideas which come to mind are:

I'm really glad I moved out there. I'm glad my parents let me make that leap of faith. Moving from Connecticut to Oregon to be with a guy who had already broken my heart once and would be away for months at a time with his military job, and not even be living in the same place when he was around, now seems like a ludicrous concept. Hindsight is 20/20 as they say, and I am surely not the same person who made that decision just 12 months ago. It is important however that I did it. That I fell on my face, got betrayed and became depressed. Why, you might ask? Because now I know that I can follow my heart on a decision, have everything go wrong, and still pick myself up, get out of the situation and end up ok. That is a huge strength that has developed inside me to know that I can try, and fail, and pick up the pieces and try to figure out the next puzzle. 

I have all of these eloquent profound ideas which I emphatically discuss with friends and sometimes strangers, yet the process of manifesting them on paper still proves to elude me. 

Need to remind myself of this

Your time is limited, don’t waste it living someone else’s life. Don’t be trapped by dogma, which is living the result of other people’s thinking. Don’t let the noise of other’s opinion drown your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition, they somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.
-- Steve Jobs

Internal Changes

I embarked on this journey to leave everything I knew behind. I had lost some of myself in academia and in a relationship and I chose to follow the voice inside that coaxes me onto planes towards unknown lands. I can hardly believe I'm halfway through, there were times where it felt like this was not even a trip or a journey but just an on going state and way of life. Now that the end is in sight however, I am starting to feel further pressure on me to fill that big pile of empty space and potential ahead of me.
Another thing I have noticed is that people whom I meet up with along the way, people I hold dear to me in a home life context, are showing me different colors while in the midst of traveling. Perhaps it is my colors that are changing, perhaps I am a know-it-all when it comes to traveling, or judgmental, or just too independent to bother with buddies on the road. Or maybe its seeing these people in a different environment, one which is filled with challenges and unknowns, and perhaps its their safety net behaviors which are irking me. Maybe I have low patience and high expectations for those around me, forgetting all of the subtle knowledge I have acquired through travel experiences.

On music

I stopped listening to music about 2 years ago. It was strange, I was very heartbroken and listened to the same 2 soulful r&b artists, india arie and anthony hamilton if you must know, beautiful singers, and then when i stopped being heartbroken I basically just left off of music. I think to an extent it was because the songs then reminded me of a painful time which I wanted to forget. And I didnt find new artists that I liked. but i just gave up pretty quickly on looking. When I do hear it I appreciate it. and think to myself oh i should really listen to music more. but then i just dont. I gave my ipod away. you walk down the street or sit on the subway and nearly everyones got headphones in. I just listen to the world now. It doesnt really cross my mind to listen to music on my own. I think its also somehow connected to how deeply passionate I am. I really wear my heart on my sleeve. and I think sometimes music just brings it out too much. I was in a taxi and there was a Spanish love song playing and it was just so overwhelmingly beautiful I burst into tears. its exhausting.

An email to a friend at 4am about passion

anything having to do with animals or the earth instantly touches some deep part of my soul. interesting that i ended up going with humans as my focus. my first passions as a child were animals and the environment.  i used to be obsessed with turning out the lights. running around after my parents turning the lights off as soon as they walked out of the room. i wish i could know myself as a kid. kind of vain but i feel like i was kinda gypped (sp?). cuz kids are just such open passionate entitities. i think if someones sad they should think about what made them happy as a kid. it probably still will. 

clouds are incredible. earth is so goddamn amazing it makes my blood curdle to think of the audacity of humans to destroy it for ourselves. it blows my mind that humans lived on earth for thousands of years but the amount of destruction and damage we have caused in the past 200 years is irreversible and tragic. did you know 95% of the Redwoods have been destroyed? sinful.

sometimes its exhausting being so damn passionate. do you ever just wana give up and study brand marketing for luxury purses? lol ok thats pushing it but ya know do u ever just want a normal regular job instead of fighting the MAN (interesting gender reference-see I can't turn it off!) to help people? especially when its so goddamn unrewarding in any material sense. like your job now your bust your butt and its for an incredible cause but im sure that stipend doesnt do much for your wallet. sometimes i just want to walk into a finance bank and i dono do some type of protest. paint myself with fake blood and bruises and say im the person they stepped on to do what they do. i dono. itd be an interesting statement. just to do Something that gets someone goddamn attention from that world. but yea, maybe getting arrested for a public statement like that, maybe get a newspaper article or at least a youtube clip of doing something extreme. sometimes i hate coloring within the lines, wait who am I kidding, I always hate coloring within the lines. i just want to shake shit up. theres so much passion balled up inside me and it just emanates waves of intense emotion. like i just believe so hard in the cause we are dedicated to, of helping people in need, that i just dont get how anyone can Not have it so i think i should share it forcibly sometimes. 

sometimes i get so frustrated at how our field is so like, intangible and immeasurable ya know? (public health/social work/helping the needy) like sometimes I just feel stupid and like im not good at anything real. we were at the casino and my friend was explaining a game to me and i dono my brain just does Not get some things like that. i love that im dedicated to women but sometimes it just feels so i dono stereotypical like oh of course ur a woman so ur gona care about women. ya know? sometimes i would like to be like, oh your a woman but your fkn amazing at math and thats so badass and impressive. instead i barely got through high school math. and moneywise too like we went to this fancy schmancy restaurant and it was so delicious and beautiful and my friends who are doctors or lawyers or businesspeople can sit there and know that someday theyll be able to live a lifestyle like that. in fkn social work ill be lucky to make ends meet. but yea, some people can go and makes good money at the casino. what skills do i possibly have to make money informally? stripping is about it. thatd be an ironic profession for a feminist. but its true ya know, be a cocktail waitress or something would make probably more money than a community health therapist, but id only get the job if i wear a minidress with cleavage. which is fine i mean use what u got theres no shame in that if u got it flaunt it but its so frustrating sometimes. i studied my ass off to Not have to do that. my field is so undefined and i love that im pioneering it myself i know i wouldnt stand for any more conveyor belt of a profession but, its just exhausting sometimes. i wish i could be the baller one taking everyone to dinner. 

Sometimes my passion overwhelms people. I don't even notice but somehow I keep ending up on a tirade about social justice or oppression in some capacity. I like to make people think and push people out of their comfort zones but sometimes i dont know how I end up talking about sexual abuse when I really just want to enjoy eating my empanada. and after awhile it alienates people. they start to tread carefully around me, like they cant crack a joke or something because ill probably go on a rant about why its disrespectful to some group or another. i would like to learn how to turn it off better. 

With Myself

This culture puts a lot of emphasis simultaneously on the success of the individual and the shame of being alone. Our economic system, capitalism, is based on the concept that every person will strive for their own gain and thus the society benefits as a whole. Clearly, this has not been the case in this country's recent history. So much focus on the American Dream idea that we have become so obsessed with one persons journey to the top of the mountain that when he gets there he may just jump off, confronted with the isolation up there. This culture celebrates entrepreneurs who make millions, hemorrhaging money with which he may buy fanciful toys and playpens. We ogle at celebrities every action via instant sites like Twitter where one can feel close to these normal people who act in movies whom we have elevated to "stardom". At the same time however, one need only watch media around Valentines Day to understand the intense expectation of being part of a couple. TV shows make jokes about women who are single and celebrate with each other, often consisting of lamenting why they do not have boyfriends. Dating sites proliferate the internet with promises of "finding a partner", delivering the underlying message that being content with just yourself is undesirable and unacceptable.

I have spent the majority of the last year alone. I moved across the country away from friends and family with a boyfriend. He lived in a different town and was away for work over half the year. I could finally afford my own apartment and relished coming home to a quiet house where everything was still in the same place I had left it. As I consider the daunting concept of traveling another continent Alone, I need only remind myself that I have already spent most of my time in only my own company, as well as the reality that a traveler always meets and connects with fellow nomads.

It is somewhat, sad? not sure of the right term, to think that a very social 24 year old who used to have multiple invitations every weekend night with various groups of friends now spends most evenings alone in the house. Its not a situation I'd like to find myself in again anytime soon, I look forward to having a more active social agenda, but I am also proud of myself for having gotten through it and not succumbing to society's notion that being alone is a problem.

On Traveling Alone

I'm getting ready for what is basically the biggest adventure of my life. I quit my job and am spending my savings to go galavanting around South America. Everyone glamorizes it and says they wish they could go and how lucky I am, and I am entirely aware and extremely grateful for the privilege that it is to be able to take a trip like this. But, I can't help but also recognize the intense challenges which await me. The last time I traveled I ended up isolated and depressed and immobilized by culture shock. People seem surprised and impressed by the fact that I am doing this journey alone. It always perplexes me to hear other people say that or mention that they could never do that. In my head it is just being practical; I want to go, so I will go. I'd love to meet up with friends along the way but I wouldn't let not having a partner stop me from having this experience. I actually prefer to travel alone. Traveling alone allows one to be much more aware and present. For example, if I drive home while on the phone, sometimes I pull into my driveway without even realizing that I am already at my house. When I clean up my house while on the phone, I often forget where I put everything. This illustrates the extent to which one can become distracted while involved with another person. Traveling with a buddy sometimes you get so caught up in taking touristy photos to put on your refrigerator that you leave a place without having had a moment to yourself to actually take in your surroundings. I enjoy traveling alone because instead of remarking to my friend about the chilly weather, I am forced to reflect on where I am and how I am feeling. One of my favorite experiences of traveling alone is getting up from a seat on a bus or train, looking back to make sure I didn't leave anything, and then proceeding ahead without a trace behind me that I was even there. I like being able to wake up one morning, pack my backpack and head out to a new place without having to even tell anyone where I am going much less consult with a compromise with someone. I relish that kind of freedom. The taste of an unknown path ahead of you and all of your possessions on your back is incomparable. Nevertheless, there are a plethora of challenges which confront the single female traveler.

I'd like to share some stories of times which were either incredible, internal, individual experiences, or examples of when being alone was extremely stressful or scary.

India water leaking, being sick in cabin in jungle,
in the ashram alone by the ganges, waking up in cabin in jungle,

Musings 2

When a person is comfortable in their own skin, they exude a certain energy which relaxes others as well. This tends to help develop a feeling of intimacy and trust, which arrives along with feeling comfortable.

When you talk about doing something, but you don't actually do it, one must ask themself, why don't I want to do it? Inevitably there is a reason that you are not actually doing that activity already. But many people expend their energy fabricating or explaining why for external reasons, they have "not had time" to do it. There will always be potential excuses, and other ways to spend one's time. Therefore, until one reaches the internal block which is inhibiting the manifestation of the desired activity, it will never commence or realize its potential.

Introduce yourself in terms of which groups you are a part of which are oppressed, and which groups you are a part of which are privileged. Makes for a dynamic understanding of a persons experience.

Musings

I've undergone a transformation of myself since the start of this year just 6 short weeks ago. Its remarkable how different an outlook I have on life now. I was in a stable, professional, career oriented job. I was in a long term committed relationship where I felt I was happily in love and had found "the one". Today, I stand before you as a unemployed, single woman. Would it surprise you to hear that I am profoundly happier than a few months ago? I feel a sense of freedom that I had forgotten existed. I feel whole again, after going so long not realizing part of me was missing. I had fallen into a depression, as a result of feeling stagnated and now I realize, incomplete. The fire that had powered me for so long had become almost dormant, smoldering feebly. Now I feel its waves of heat roaring through me. I am living at the very edge of my existence, gazing outwards at so many possibilities, because life is happening right this very moment.   There are so many passions that I have so many profound interests and devotion to so many worthy causes in this world that it has taken me years to even narrow them all down to a few. It has emerged unquestionably however, that my truest determination lies with the incredibly necessary and inspirational work of empowering the most undervalued resource this planet has; women. I have recently been feeling a call to my country of birth, Colombia. It would be a fitting place to return to, a look to my past to help make sense of the future. But it is the yearning of exploration itself that is calling me the strongest, and then a return to writing and a glance to the universe to help me find a direction.

Waves

The eternal, infallible mountain tops and craters of the waves. I float adrift, my emotions float beside me. They rise up, glowing with love, shouting their faith in it for all to hear, their voices echoing across the water. And then the inevitable lull, the mountain abandons us, and we sink into a valley. My emotions grow dull, colorless, almost disappearing against the dark ocean. I hold my breath and start to fall below the waters surface. My will to float dissentegrates and my body folds inwards and I am no longer buoyed up. Just when I am about to welcome the cold water above my head, the swell returns. I am slowly inched upwards, the wave lifting me up, high above the water and I can see all around me. And my emotions beside me start to chirp with energy, and the wave carries me like a trophy, its pride immersing me. I am ecstatic again, feeling as though nothing can bring me down. Then the mountain recedes, and I descend into the depths again.

sadness

I woke up with an emptiness in the center of my being, I woke up from a dream hugging my elderly dog, he relaxed in my arms and I woke up sad. Not for my dog, he was ok. I woke up sad from a profoundly deep place. Sadness usually hovers around the head, and triggers tears. This sadness is both a weight and an absence. The center of my chest feels tight, but smaller than it should be. It feels like someone is grabbing the heart string connection to my lover, and ripping it out of me. Its like they are pulling it up out of my being, uprooting a plant which has connected its lifelines into my rib cage. I cannot struggle. I cannot fight it. I am weakened by the theft. It hurts in the way when you get a tooth pulled, despite the numbing novacaine, you can still feel and hear and sense that the roots are snapping and breaking, even if there is no acute pain. Its like someone has paralized me. All I can do is sit and feel the roots snapping, and anticipate the gaping hole which will be left. My shoulders feel injured, as if someone overextended them so they are too strained to move. From the pit of my stomach come waves of grumbling, I suppose its hunger, but it feels like simple emphasis of the sadness overwhelming me. There are no tears. It is a deeper moment than what those salty drops can convey. Not being able to struggle against this process is both a relief and torture. In one sense, I have to just accept that there is nothing I can possibly do, relinquishing this control is satisfying at the same time as being scared. I want to be able to stop it from happening, my head reeling and staggering around, my mind bumping into walls and trying doors which are always locked, trying to regain my power. But it is futile. And the terrifying realization that you are locked onto a sinking ship envelops me. And I wait for the sea.

Rain

the rain is the most soothing relaxation music available. The quiet footsteps of the raindrops, soaring downwards from the sky to the earth. Nourishing their mother after skydiving from the clouds.
Just take that moment will you? to listen to the rain.

Take that moment, to walk barefoot in the mud. Don't worry about the squishy squelching in between your toes. Don't concern yourself with the spitter spatter mud leaping onto your clothing.

Have you ever immersed yourself in the downpour? Have you simply given into the joy of being drenched down to your bones.

Have you realized that this water this life force which we are made of is a gift? Millions of tiny gifts pirouetting down to all of us.

and yet people shirk it. they badmouth it.

this rain that only tries to present itself to us in all its glory. To share its music with us so that we may thank the sky the ocean the mother for blessing us with these pieces of her heart.

The other end

I've been wandering blind, stumbling into a downward spiral of confusion and negativity. I thought I was doing what I wanted, but in fact I couldn't hear my own voice. So deeply ingrained were the societal norms and social pressures that I didn't even realize they weren't coming from within me. I've released all control and fear. I don't want to force things to be a certain way, I don't even want to expend the energy to get angry about past wrongs. I don't want to choose suffering when there is pain. I want to allow it wash through me and over me and when its gone stand up and brush myself off. I've learned so much about myself and life in the past week it makes my head spin. And the lesson came in the most uncanny form. But the overall experience was that I was reduced to facing my deepest most painful fears and realizing that I was stronger than them.

I realized that love in any form is about nothing more than sharing peace together. Love is not conditional, love is not infected or toxic or scared. Love is not demanded or organized into neat orderly rows. Love is messy and muddy and still the most desirable experience in the world. Love will reduce you to your weakest self yet still lead you onto a path of strength. Love sometimes makes you fall flat on your face and the question is not how many scrapes you have or how many tears are shed. The question is how do you find the strength to get up, dust off and keep on going. "There is no such thing as regret, because at one time, that was exactly what you wanted". All you can do is learn from the choices that you made and the consequences that they brought. You can spend your life trying to understand someone else, trying to get inside their head and figure out exactly what they were thinking. Or you can step back, let go, and say, this is me. Here is my love. Please, handle it with care not because I'm making you but because you want to. Demands are an illusion. One cannot control anything else except themselves. When you are able to realize this and accept that the only way you can be happy is to be true to yourself, and stop allowing others to control you, you will feel the weight lifted from you.