Ultima Dia (Last Day)

I have one more night in Cusco, Perú.  Broke my vegan streak for a home cooked Peruvian chicken dish.  Living life according to my rules.  No guilt.  Instead of one last wandering through the cobblestone streets of the historic center, I’ve spent most of the day in bed.

It’s raining hard.  While drinking tea and talking to a new friend from Argentina (in Spanish 👊🏽), hail began to fall around us through the roof as we sat at a table.  We had just been complaining of the cold showers as well.  I picked up a speck of hail to feel it melt in my hand.  It’s always been an odd phenomenon for me, hail. We laughed and climbed to the top story to view Mother Nature’s power and all of Cusco.  The city, the mountains, the deep grey skies.  This is it.

I can’t help but feel the tinge of sadness for all the friends I’ve made and most may never see again.  It’s a strange feeling knowing each person you meet will not be a constant you are accustomed to.  To share a week is lucky.

As I begin to sink my teeth into these mountains, and all the doors begin to open, it is time for me to go.  Friends say I could stay, find work, keep going.  But I think I’m missing that constant I can count on.  I’m missing some other mountains, and some other hills as well.  And with the more places I visit and call home for a short time, I know I will have more places to miss, and of course more people.

With each town I have been a part of, I feel like a cat living a different life.  Speaking of cats…At my apartment I lived in for a week during a short workaway, I was blessed with beautiful views of the city.  I’d take it all in, but noticed something on a lower rooftop.  Something mangled looking, garbage?  No, it was definitely a decaying cat.  Moments like those I believe my life is a dark comedy.  Everyday I would take a moment to enjoy the view, but couldn’t bring myself to not look at that poor dead cat and wonder about it.

Perhaps that’s how I look at most of my trips, on the whole there is so much beauty and greatness,  but there’s always something along the way that made me cringe.  Maybe it was drunkenly kissing the wrong guy (yes that happened) or not taking advantage of the clear, sunny days to take a certain hike; but as a good friend always says, c’est la vie.  I’m going to smile on all the moments the way they were, laugh at myself for the way I can be, and enjoy this day with cooking and movies in bed.  Because my rules, no guilt.


 

 

Tears to Heal: Ayahuasca

It’s 4am and I’m wondering.  I woke up from an alarming dream and tell myself, I will always be a work in progress.  To always have sweet dreams is like only having happy thoughts.  That is not the world, that is not me, and I accept.

To accept myself, I realized under a jungle canopy of twinkling stars, is part of finding myself.  The Ayahuasca was strong in my blood.  I held myself, looking up at the night like a child, I thanked the gods for the beautiful woman they created.  I thanked the universe for this love inside me which I wrapped myself in.  I cried for all the beautiful thoughts that ran like a river, flowing, meandering, weaving through my mind.  My eyes a great canyon for which these thoughts escaped as tears.  So many that the salt seemed to dwindle, to my lips I could barley taste the sea, they were now fresh water.  Water for growing.

And yet, how could love feel so sweetly sorrowful?  The sacrifices of my parents, even before my existence. The torments of those I loved.  The struggles of those and of which I know not.  Heroes. The love I’ve been afraid of.  All of it, I felt.  All of it I released back into the darkness and sent sweetly to the ones I love.  If you wondered was it you?  It was.

That night, I was blessed with the remembrance of my first memory.  In the womb.  I was apart of my mother- The Goddess and my own mother. Protected in a brilliant light of red and orange.  I cried for us, the mothers.  And as the healing song reverberated in my ear in a way that spoke to my spirit, it was then I knew, with more certainty than I’ve ever imagined, one day I will be a mother.

Gracias, Gracias, Gracias.