Reflections at the 3 month point . . .

I have again gone for a number of weeks without blogging.  When I look in my journal I notice that it too has been sadly neglected.  My excuse has been that I am simply too busy . . . or alternately, that life is too intense to be put into words.  Neither of those is fully truthful, however, neither is fully a lie either.

From a blogging perspective there is the question of just how transparent I want to be about my inner journey . . . and especially when that inner journey is so dominant, how to keep an interesting record of the outer journey, which in some ways has become almost mundane.

Over the last 7 weeks, since I finished the Moon Course at the Pyramids, I have settled (externally) into a routine of working 5 nights a week as a waitress, teaching my dance class one night a week, and a hoop class one afternoon.  I have taken two massage courses: Indian Head Massage and Foot Reflexology; both were amazing.  I have taken the usual trips over to San Pedro or Panajachel for groceries and other miscellaneous supplies, and even hooked myself up with yet another prospective job (doing transcription) on one of those trips.

Some weeks I make it into the lake for a swim almost daily, and others are so full (especially course weeks) that I have gone days without giving myself time at the lake, only to find myself at the familiar place of overwhelm and resentment from my poor self-care.  Those have been powerful learning moments for me - because, really, this is not the place to be stressed out trying to do too much.  If I want that, North America would be happy to provide the venue for it with FAR better pay.

Mind you, stress not-withstanding, North America might also provide me with the venue for a full night's sleep - which I haven't had in weeks.  Between the 2 beautiful dogs that bark right outside my window at all hours and the dyslexic rooster across the pathway that crows at 2am every morning . . . I don't think I've slept through the night more than once since I left the pyramids.  I admit, I think I may sleep for days when I return to Canada. I honestly don't remember downtown Toronto being this disruptive to my sleep pattern.  Perhaps it's just selective memory??

Today I spent the afternoon in Pana trying to renew my visa . . . except that the place to do it simply never opened.  No one seemed to know why.  I hung out, went for lunch, returned, went shopping, returned . . . figuring I'd just arrived in the midst of their lunch / siesta break (2 hours is common for lunch here) . . .but no one ever showed up, so I returned to San Marcos unsatisfied.  It appears I will likely be paying late fees to renew my visa.  I feel, in this moment, that there is a powerful metaphor here . . . but I'm not sure yet what it is.

The inner journey of the last several weeks has been both parallel and almost in dissonance with the external journey.  Even as I have settled into routine, and begun to establish myself within the community, I have been plagued with homesickness.  And yet, when I have contemplated simply packing up and heading home, I have been equally affected with a clear sense that it's not time yet, that I have not seen, heard, experienced and learned all that I came here for. This combination sometimes inspired in me a surprising resentment - like I want to go home, but don't feel I can.  It's an unexpected and odd sensation. 

It has served to highlight, however, some old familiar patterns, and some clear and current questions.  I am humbled to discover, for a clear extrovert - known for my ability to engage and build relationships, how long it takes me to truly invest my self . . . . how much of me I hold just outside the situation I'm in . . . one emotional foot out the door.  It appears I am, just a little (maybe a lot) afraid of commitment . . . and seeing it here, I can see it in other parts of my life - over and over.

I can also see, with real clarity, the parts of my life that I am excited to return to, and the parts that raise real questions for me.  When I have paused to contemplate returning home, I realize that on some level I have been living in transition for almost 2 years; since I left my government job.  Cortes Island is my home - I feel that keenly, and yet for the entire time I have been there, I have been on and off island almost constantly.  Similarly, I feel a deep and keen connection to my work team . .. and yet I know that I am not really contributing at the level that I am capable, nor am I gaining the fulfillment from my work that would be possible if I were more fully engaged. 

And so I am left to ponder - what is it that I am returning to?  What is the life I want to be living?  What will it look like to return home and start again?  Am I starting from scratch, really?  What will I actually be starting with?

And in true human style, I have been so busy obsessing over such questions that I have often forgotten to be present right where I am - in San Marcos, on a sacred lake, formed and surrounded by volcanoes, amongst a beautiful community of interesting people, eating Avocados that fall from the sky, bananas and mangoes for pennies . . .

And so I face a cross-roads as I seek to renew my visa and create the option of another 3 months worth of time here.  How long do I want to stay?   Am I ready to contemplate heading home, or is there more to see, do, experience? What is that I really want out of this trip, and what do I need to do to experience that?

What If?

How often do we torture ourselves with "what if" questions? How often do we look back at a situation and ask "what if I just . . . . (done, said, thought, been . . . different)???"

But what are the bigger "what if" questions?

What if my actions, and the events in my life aren't really who I am?

What if my thoughts aren’t really mine? What if they are a creation of the world I live in? The society values that helped shape me? The parents that brought me up? The experiences I’ve had and the messages I’ve heard and internalized without sufficient filters?

What if I’m not wrong – just because no one agrees with me . . . or What if I’m not right just because everyone does? More profoundly, what if it really doesn’t matter if I’m wrong or right? What if being right isn’t a measure of any part of my worth, including my sanity?

What if truly I am a manifestation of the divine? What if I really do have a message to carry to the world and I have a responsibility to step up to that plate? What if it doesn’t matter whether I do or not – I can still be a whole and worthy and loveable person if I do nothing?

What if I really am special? What if I’m not?

What if . . I am as special as everyone else????

What if my path in this life is to walk alone? What if it’s not? How different does my vision look? How different are my choices?

What if I can’t know what my path is until I accept that I can’t know?

What if the very process of asking the questions is the purpose, the path . . . and here I am on it.

The Power of Words

How does one start a blog?

Should my first entry be a deep philosophical questions . . . or something lighter and of general interest about my life?

How important is what I have to say here anyway? I am just another blogger, writer, person-at-a-keyboard among millions of others tapping away in much the same way. And yet, I am struck by the power that others’ writing has had for me . . . of the moments in which a message has become the right message because it came at the right time, in the right words and from the right source (at that moment) to get through . . . to land and to leave an imprint.

So . . . what impact will my words have? What responsibility do I have for the trail that I leave here? Although the saying, “Actions speak louder than words” is commonly accepted wisdom, I have learned that words ARE actions – powerful ones. “Words are not innocent. The language we use shapes the realities we live in and the realities we create” (Kotzé and Roux (2002).

As I think about the language that I use, I know that the words I choose are both a direct reflection, and the creators, of how I feel about myself and the world in the moment I am choosing them. When I use language that reflects personal responsibility, hope and spiritual connection, I feel grounded, connected and positive. When I use language that is cynical, angry and hopeless . . . I generate and grow those feelings within me and manifest them into my environment. As a coach, consultant and educator, I recognize that my words and actions are powerful, and can have significant impact, whether I intend them to or not.

So what do I do with that responsibility?

Ghandi charges us to “Be the change you want to see in the world.” What is the change I want to see in the world?

I want to see a world that is inspired. I understand that this means I need to be an inspiration. I want to live in a world of authenticity and deep compassion. I have no choice, then, but to be authentic and live with deep compassion. I want a world that honours and celebrates the inherent worth and dignity of every being, and the interconnected web of life, of which we are all a part. I am compelled to live those values, else I cannot demand them of the world.

So this is my journey . . . to be the change I want to see in the world. To live, fully authentically, from a place of compassion and reverence and stewardship for the earth and all the beings on it. And just as my actions send powerful messages, so too do the words that I choose, so I must choose my words mindfully, as I share my journey, so that they too are authentic, inspiring and compassionate.