How would you define love?

A friend of mine recently how asked me how I would define love; what it means to me to say or hear the words, “I love you”.   

It caused me long pause for thought.  These are the kinds of questions that I spend a lot of time thinking about.  Because the question wasn’t just about love, it was about human relationships, and how we express ourselves within them; how we connect to one-another.  These are questions with no easy or static answers.  The idea of love is both as individual as a birthmark, and as universal as the air we breathe.

I am still exploring what love means to me, especially within the context of relationship – be it romantic or not.  I am fascinated by human beings, and human relationships in particular ... and although I’m still formulating my exact thoughts around it (and may be for the rest of my lifetime) I recognize that I do have some beliefs that are quite clear and strong.  One of those is a firm belief that as human beings, we are designed to love, and designed to be in relationship.   in fact, whether we understand it or not, we ARE in relationship, all the time – with ourselves, each other, and with the world around us, and with the divine. (however we interpret that)

I believe that, fundamentally, what ails us in this society comes back to lack of authentic, present, loving, connection. It is our chronic inability to be full present and connected in those relationships with ourselves, each other, and all that is around us.

I also believe that however one defines love - it's never love itself that causes pain.  It is fear, misunderstanding, and our stories that cause the hurts.  I believe that love itself is absolute and transcends all the 'stuff' of ego and human suffering.  

I don't, however, believe that the statement, "love conquers all" is necessarily accurate - because while love may transcend all - we humans get in the way all the time.  We let fear, ego, stories, and whatever else we can come up with, get between us and that love. The love itself is always there, around us, and available.... we need only the courage to tap in to it, to allow it, to be fully present with it.  

Coming back to the original question – how I define ‘love’.... it’s a working definition (at best), but I think that love is like water; It is both what we are made of and what we are surrounded by.... and it is essential for our survival.

Which doesn't mean that it always looks the way we want it to. Once we're in the realm of relationship with another person we're no longer dealing just with 'love'.  We're dealing with values, beliefs, stories, hopes, fears, boundaries, fantasies, and egos – ours and theirs.  And all of those things are both what bring us suffering, and what give us opportunities to grow, to learn, and to fully experience love when we do open to it. 

It is in the very human struggles, of egos and stories, of fears and hopes and dreams, that we are connected to each other.  It is in our places of darkness, as much as in light, that we find connection, that we need each other.  We are conceived in relationship; our identities are formed in relationship – at our core, we are human in relationship.  Where we hold ourselves back from relationship, we hold ourselves back from our full humanity; we deny ourselves the fullest opportunity to grow and actualize.  To enter into intimate, loving, relationship is the single most courageous thing we can do as human beings.

Solstice to Solstice - a journey of many transitions

It's been almost exactly a year since I posted a blog.  I'm tempted to wonder where that year went.... but as I pause and reflect, the answers are enough to fill many posts.  It has been a year of inward journey.  After 2 years of exploring the world .... Guatemala, India, Nepal ... I have spent the last one exploring my inner world, growing myself, building fertile soil for my next journey.

There is something powerful about the solstice to mark times of transition.  I left for Guatemala on Winter Solstice, 2009.  I returned to British Columbia exactly six months later, on Summer Solstice.   It is two summer solstices later, and I am again called to reflect on the transitions and what is unfolding before me.

This past year has been one of profound paradox for me.  Developing myself as a professional consultant while simultaneously developing myself as a somatically based yoga teacher.  Playing dressup in  'professional' heels and navigating corporate politics through the week; donning yoga pants, with my raw-vegan potluck contribution to the world of deep emotional connection on the weekends.  And through the process finding my voice of authenticity in both.  Finding the place where I can bring heart and connection into the corporate world, and where I can bring my professional skills into the powerful realm of yoga and connection.

As I move forward this year, I know that my work life will continue to shift into greater alignment - and with each step forward, I am able to see the incredible value of each step I've taken, perhaps most especially the difficult ones.  I am grateful for all the places where I have bumped against the questions of balance, alignment, integrity, and purpose.  Those questions have enabled me to be more present in those moments, and to grow from them.... and to make choices with ever greater clarity.

This week I got to play with another level of balance, as I brought my 'professional' skills into a community I care deeply about, and helped them move forward through an important piece of work - that for them is all about connection.  I see what is possible when I bring all of me together in service work, and I am excited about what is possible.

I don't know yet exactly what this year will look like, but I know it will be yet another layer of balance - of the inner and the outer.  Of bringing my voice to the work that I do, and sharing it.  You can count on more to come.

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?

An exploration of Love

I was challenged recently by a wise teacher to meditate daily on the question, "What is Love?"   I am finding it a surprisingly challenging meditation, one that raises far more questions than it answers.   This post is really an invitation for responses.  I would love to hear how others answer this question.

As I sat this morning, contemplating this question over a fresh fruit liquado with almonds and cacao, I realized that I could easily articulate the ways I show others that I love them, but I had more trouble articulating how I KNOW what love is, or how it feels. Especially when I reflect on what it means to love oneself. 


I mean . . . really . . . who do YOU know that never (or even, rarely,) doubts themselves? Or how about someone that never berates themselves? (Most people I know would never let someone talk to them, or to someone they love the way they talk to themselves!!) Who do you know that accepts themselves unconditionally, without judgment?  How many people do you know who, without hesitation, put their own needs first (not unkindly to others - just with confidence that their own needs deserve to be attended to?). 

How many people do you know, that when questioned, can honestly and unhesitatingly say, "absolutely - I love myself!" 

For me, I know that there is almost no one I know that I have seen that fits all of the above, although I am reassured to find an increasing number of people in my world who can say they love themselves, or at least like themselves a lot.

Which brings me back to the question: What is love?  Is it unconditional acceptance?  Is it release of judgment?  What about forgiveness?  Where does it fit?  Is love the yearning to spend time with someone?  Is love the yearning to take care of someone?  To inspire them to smile?  To show affection?  Is love the capacity to put someone first?  To witness?  To really see, hear, listen?


If some, all or any of these are love . . . how do they fit when applied to self-love? 

How do you KNOW you love someone?  How do you KNOW you love yourself?

Does the knowing need to be constant or can it ebb and flow like all other things in life?  Is it possible to love sometimes, and not others . . . and to know that´s ok too? 

I know these questions are deep for a Monday morning . . . (or afternoon, depending on where you are) . .. but they are what´s on my mind and I am eager to hear what you think.

With much love and deep curiosity,
Shoshana

Losing days in San Pedro

It appears that my experience in San Pedro is not uncommon.  I came with the intention to stay 2 days, and I stayed 5.  Others come for a day, stay for a month, come for a month, stay for a year . . . and many just don´t leave.

It´s not for everyone.  It´s not a pretty city, particularly, but it has its own charm. The streets are cobblestone, but one walks through a mixture of those streets and alleys and cut-throughs to make it around town.  Although I learned my way around fairly quickly, I never did actually figure out the layout of the town, as it´s really NOT linear.  I couldn´t tell you, for the life of me, where north is.

I found San Pedro fascinating in some ways.  There are a lot of ex-pats (from all over) that have settled here, short or long term, and you can meet many of them just wandering down the ¨"Gringo Path" . . . the strip where all those restaurants are.  Once they have a little bit of spanish, basically enough to serve the occasional Guatemalan that comes in, they can get a job there - as most of the customers are english speaking travelers or other ex-pat residents.  There´s also a significant Israeli population, which I hadn´t expected.  Signs everywhere are in spanish, english and hebrew.

It is full of restaurants, vendors, spanish schools, more spanish schools, little tiendas, bars, net cafes . . . and did I mention spanish schools?  The party scene is definitely strong, and I have a new appreciation for how easy it is to drink regularly here.  Happy hours range from the usual 4 - 6 to 9am - midnight.  And happy hour means alcohol is almost cheaper than water.  Imagine 2 Cuba Libres for 2 dollars.  Seriously.  So I confess I indulged,  but for those that know me, that means that over my 5 days, I had less than 10 drinks.  A power drunk, I know. 

I also caught the expected cold shortly after my arrival, so I was forced to slow down, take siestas and do a lot of nothing.  Although rather resentful of the stuffy nose, I felt renewed justification in the pounds of vitamin c, echinacea and other health remedies that I brought with me.  I also recognized that it was an inevitable result of leaving Vancouver tired, and traveling for over 24 hours to get here.  Not so terrible really.

I moved after a few days into a room at the front of the hotel, facing the lake, and really enjoyed my two nights there.  I got to indulge in a king size bed, with many pillows, a view of the lake and the grand gardens, and the most amazing smell of the flowers as I came and went.  One bush of lilacs (I think that´s what they were) was particularly potent in the evening, and I stopped each night under it, just to inhale for a while. 
I also spent some quality time reading in a hammock chair surrounded by the flowers, facing the lake.  Rough life.

The cold, and enforced rest, provided me with some reflection time.   I found myself feeling a real dis-ease, and struggling with the question of "why am I here?" Not the existential question, but, why Guatemala?  Why am I traveling? What is that I want out of this trip?  How long am I staying?  Do I want to learn spanish first, or go to the meditation centre first?  What happens if I run out of money before I´m ready to leave?  . . . . and so on, and so on.  It´s a powerful weapon sometimes, the mind, and amazing the damage it can inflict when I´m not paying attention.

So, as I indulged my screaming mind, I wandered the town, looked at cheap places to live and tried to decide where I wanted to be.  I learned a fair bit, I think.  Among other things, I learned that a fridge is not a standard piece of equipment in a kitchen . . . one often needs to buy it oneself and bring it with, even in short-term rentals.  I gather that a lot of folks just don´t use it.  Eating out is so cheap, they do that, or they buy at the market the day of and prepare as needed. 

I also re-connected with my privileged existence as a Canadian, who takes clean water and hot water for granted.  Both things are commodities here.  Agua Pura is everywhere . . .but you pay for it.  I may complain about the taste of tap water in Canadian cities, and the chlorine . . . but there´s no risk of parasites or SERIOUS illness from our water, and a hot shower is fairly standard back home.  Here the hot water tap is generally disabled, and one gets cold water that comes through this electric heater thing before it lands, low pressure and luke warm on your head.  (If you´re lucky . ..  many don´t even have that).

I also have a new appreciation for how we handle garbage and recycling, as insufficient as our environmental awareness is at home . . . it´s almost an unknown here. Recycling is VERY minimal - most things can´t be recycled, and garbage and litter are everywhere.  I was having the most wonderful breakfast on the beach one morning, only to find myself suddenly inhaling smoke and slowly getting covered in ash from a garbage fire on the beach.  Nothing like a little burning plastic to enhance the eating experience. 

The highlights of my time in San Pedro were really La Piscina, the friends I made there, and the gardens at my hotel. Oh, and the lake.  The last three days I was in San Pedro, the lake was SO choppy.  The waves were crashing and roaring, it was really like being back on the ocean.  I found it so soothing to my spirit, and it also served to keep me in San Pedro that extra couple of days, as I just didn´t think the boat across to San Marcos was such a good idea with the water that rough

One of my new friends, Guyta, is another Canadian from Quebec, in San Pedro studying spanish.  I´m not sure how well my spanish is progressing, but I´ve discovered I´m far more conversant in french than I give myself credit for.  I´m starting to think I´m going to return home with my french vastly improved and my spanish not so much, as I keep connecting with Francophones.  oh well.  Guyta is lovely, and I´ve been enjoying her company a lot.  She challenges me to use what little spanish I have, and when that fails, we fall into Frenglish.  I´m enjoying it a lot.  We´ve decided to spend New Years together in San Marcos;  since I´m heading there a day ahead of her, I´ll scope us a place to stay, and meet her at the dock there on Thursday afternoon.

Next top, San Marcos La Laguna.