Earlier today I was in a checkout line at a Filipino grocery store. My purchases were small but intentional: a ten pound bag of Thai Jasmine rice, Chinese Mabo Tofu mix,Vietnamese Pho noodles, pad Thai sauce, Japanese udon noodles, some local vegetables, and a packet of Korean curry. The young cashier who was checking me out on the register said to me, “I have one question, what is curry?”
I looked at her in amazement, I assumed everyone who worked at the store was Filipino or some type of Asian, but she appeared to be Mexican American. I proceeded to summarize curry as a type of stew “It’s a stew that adds flavor to your veggies and meats.” I was so astonished that someone didn’t know what a curry was, and I was wondering if I was offering a poor answer to this question. “This is a Korean curry, but there are Japanese curries, Thai curries, Indian curries, so many kinds.” She was open to admitting her lack of knowledge on the subject. “I want to start experimenting and try cooking new dishes. I tried the Filipino curry, and so I was wondering about this curry.” I was curious what dish she was talking about, as Filipinos technically don’t have curries, or maybe I didn’t view it in that way. Was it adobo, kare kare, or caldereta? I didn’t want to keep up the line, but offered her a “thank you and good luck with your curries.”
I wondered if my definition excited or deterred her from curry. There was so much more to say about it, but I was caught off guard. And yet in that moment, I appreciated this stranger’s sincere honesty and willingness to seek more knowledge. I also was in awe of the fact that we were in California in an area full of diversity, in which we can learn, understand, and appreciate things from each culture. My $33 spent on groceries was an abundance of Asian wealth from a variety of countries. We take that for granted these days, but in the moment I was appreciative of the global education we all can offer each other while in line at an ethnic grocery store.
I am lounging in Caje Café in Santa Barbara, a Spanish style coffee shop that sits across the Alrington Theater. It’s happenstance that I’m here during the Santa Barbara Film Festival in front of a premiere. People are lined up to see the stars walk down the red carpet before entering the theater.
The café drew me in not because of it’s proximity to this event but because of the beauty of the courtyard. After leaving Andalucia in December, I was missing the outdoor beauty of Spanish life, and longed to be close to a beautiful fountain and greenery. There were young college students at the café, in addition to yuppies, dog owners, and fellow book lovers who sprawled out in the sun and read their next chapter. There was also a man who appeared to be struggling with mental health issues, potentially homeless, walking up to various customers muttering to himself, before he was kicked out.
I sat in the outdoor café and wrote, once in awhile peaking on what was going on around me. The music was quiet and chill, it was a simple Sunday afternoon. But then I heard loud screams coming from the street. Me along with many of the customers stepped out of the café’s white entrance to sneak a peak. The main star arrived. Billie Eilish’s van pulled up and she was about to enter the festival. The screams were loud, fans stood on their tip toes to see above the crowd to get a view above other fans who were holding up her most recent record. She briefly stopped to shake fans’ hands and was interviewed by the press before heading into the theater.
I went back into the café, whose background music was promptly changed from soft mellow tunes to a loud Billie Eilish song. As I walked in, so did the man with mental health issues. He was running behind the screaming crowd and proceeded to run back into the café, making fellow patrons squeamish. A woman came up to him, and asked what was wrong. I wasn’t close enough to hear the words he was muttering on repeat. He was distraught and upset. She held his hand and slowed down her breathing. Gentle loud exhales to decrease his nervous system, as she did this she repeated to him “you are safe.” She continued to check what he needed at that moment, and offered to get him water as he sat down. The fellow staff member who kicked him out minutes earlier, came by to check.
This female courageous customer was handling the situation. She was calming this stranger down, when everyone else backed away. He was shaken by the loud screams for Billie Eilish and was unaware of what was going on.
As I watch this all unfold, I thought of the irony of the situation. This woman was the real rock star here. Yes, artists and musicians help express our emotions and get us through difficult times in our lives through their creative works. Everyone surrounded the theater to welcome her entrance to the event. But at a café across the street, a woman was in the everyday trenches, offering a moment of tangible calm support to a stranger that was viewed by others as untouchable. She was not paid for this act, and nobody else said anything to her for this to be recognized as profound and strong.
I offered her one of these Puzo Bella cards (which you may have received, which is why you may be reading this blog). I wanted to tell her I noticed her and wanted to thank her for helping a stranger. For some reason as I did this, I wanted to cry. In that moment, she had this superhero strength of compassion of a saint. And I wanted her to know it was seen and appreciated. There’s so much to be seen and admired in this world, and it’s not only things that are of material wealth. It’s these everyday moments that are full of rich individuals, simply helping a stranger.
I watch my brother carefully measure out the espresso beans, the ratio and weight to what is needed for each latte he serves himself, his girlfriend and me. The attention to detail with how he foams the alternative milks for each of our drinks.
I see his girlfriend delicately pouring hot soy wax into rose fondant shapes for the bespoke candles she is gifting a small group of loved ones. Colors chosen linked to their astrological signs.
I watch my friend online who is tired, after seeing 25 patients this week for therapy, lend a supportive ear, as I share my latest dilemma giving the week’s play by play.
My fifteen year old dog places her paw on me, displaying her affection, and falls asleep with her paw on my lap.
I saw a female empowerment poster with strong historical women in a friend’s home. He shares how he teaches his young boys about these women’s accomplishments and vacillates these mini bios between talks on mindfulness, encouraging them to be feminists in their upbringing.
I observe the care exhibited in each of these moments. All are offerings of love. In each instance, no act was done with an expectation of anything in return. Nobody was doing these things for a financial transaction or a hope to be discovered. It was simply an expression of love or sharing of a skill. Non-attachment.
It makes me wonder, where have I gone wrong? Have I kept tabs in how I display love? After years of giving, and running on empty, I needed time to replenish the drought of self-inflicted martyrdom. Perhaps you can relate. But in observing others give freely, it makes me wonder has that pause ended? After taking a break from the working world and being a solo nomad am I ready to give again, without expectation, and solely a pure heart? Time will tell.
“Because when they looked at her, it occurred to them for the first time in their lives that what’s divine can come in dark skin. You see, everybody needs a God who looks like them, Lily.”-Secret Life of Bees, Sue Monk Kidd
A PBS episode that recently aired that highlighted the beauty of the Black Madonna in Italy. It was a great refresher in having the emotions stirred within about the essence of pilgrimage. Earlier this summer, I went on a pilgrimage with Alessandra Belloni (featured in the PBS special) to visit multiple Black Madonnas in Italy. It was beautiful to witness the devotees that pray, sing, and dance to Her. I observed people having a 1:1 relationship with Her, and it was a reflection of the potential of my relationship with Her.
I’ve been living in America the past six weeks, one hour outside of Los Angeles. Although it is not a busy town, there’s still a fast pace to the American lifestyle of capitalism, consumerism, and hustling to survive. I am surrounded by people who are talking of the struggles of surviving, let alone thriving. It’s easy to lose focus of your values, when you are staying so busy simply to keep up. But watching this episode was a reminder of how my life was earlier this year. There is an importance of slowing down and dropping into the sacred. This is what pilgrimage does.
We may not be able to be on pilgrimage all year. And I’m curious that high could be sustained if it was perpetual. Perhaps we need moments from the peak to recognize the importance and beauty of the sacred. The return in our everyday lives is the challenge to sustain the transformation felt within on pilgrimage, while at home. We may no longer be surrounded by fellow pilgrims, holy shrines, or celebrations that ignite a sense of awe, but can the power of the pilgrimage outshine the monotony and stressors of regular life> Can we stay moved and uplifted, although people around us may want to complain of everyday sorrows?
This is the challenge.
The two, the hero and his ultimate god, the seeker and the found, are thus understood as the outside and the inside of a single, self-mirrored mystery, which is identical with the mystery of the manifest world. The great deed of the supreme hero is to come to the knowledge of this unity in multiplicity and then to make it know.-Joseph Campbell
“There are two ways to be rich: One is by acquiring much, and the other is by desiring little.”-Jackie French Koller
As the new year began, my friend Isabella said one of her New Year Resolutions was to not buy clothes, shoes, or accessories for one year. I quickly decided to make this pact and make this one of my resolutions. It was something I was going towards anyways, buy less, use what you love.
But how quickly we forget about this, and can mindlessly buy things when we are bored, when there’s a sale, when we want to change an aspect of ourselves, numb out, or even to feel a certain way. But a new challenge has arisen. Can we find that inspiration with what is already existing in your closet? This is the challenge.
Over the years, I have really gotten rid of so many things. Now that I have moved back to America and reunited with all of my belongings that were in storage, I am reminded of the hold me that has existed. Does the old me equate with the new me? This is the question. And now that I am in a new job and must go into an office, I am realizing I have less plain shirts than I realize. My clothes are on repeat. But this is okay.
You want to wear what you love. You want to wear what sparks joy. But it’s an opportunity to have one year to take stock on what exists in that closet. And see what one can combine, create, and surprise yourself. Perhaps new styles will arise, combinations added together that can ignite a new you. Are you up for the challenge?
This past week, when having a farewell coffee meetup with a friend, she said to me that this return home would be a pilgrimage. Although I have visited America nearly annually, I haven’t lived here in 10 ½ years. Those words “it’s a pilgrimage” repeated with me over the past 20 hour voyage home.
I’ve been prepping to move back for nearly six months in some ways, and everyone has been asking me “how are you feeling?” In truth, so many emotions, but the final months with non-stop international and Spanish travel, visitors, or packing, I haven’t been able to process. I can only be present to the next task ahead of me.
“Life is like driving in the dark. Your headlights show you the 200 feet in front of you and as you move forward, the next 200 feet are shown to you. You don’t need to see the entire path in order to reach your destination.”-Jack Canfield
On one of my last nights, as I lied in bed prepping to sleep, my thoughts began to ruminate over what all had to be done and I realized in that moment I had a choice. I was making an international move with a pet, buying a condo, starting a new job, and shipping belongings. I could choose anxiety and restless sleep or know that everything was already working out. My question became, “why wouldn’t it work out?” All was unfolding and being divinely guided, I just had to trust and focus on the next task at hand. Don’t focus on the larger picture but the next thing that was being asked from me.
My friend Isabella reminded me I was fortunate enough to not be alone. She was right, as both her and my mother would be present to help make this journey possible. I ordered a van from Uber the day prior, hoping it would fit the three of us and Bella and all of our luggages. We each had two check-in luggages, a carry on and personal item. And it did. As we made the Uber ride, I realized my carry on and personal item were over stuffed and I should pay additional money for my carry on, and buy another carry on to distribute the weight. I hoped in the van ride it would be comped, but was willing to pay. Upon reaching the counter to check in at the gate, I informed the staff member of my luggage predicament. She looked at me, my belongings, and Bella in my backpack. She told me this would be too expensive, and she grabbed the credit card machine. “240 euros,” she said . She then proceeded to say, “I’m doing this for the dog.” It was comped! She happened to be a fellow dog owner, and had empathy for us. Perhaps she knew flying with a pet internationally was massive work.
With each little step, I repeated gratitude verbally and internally, like a mantra. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” Everything was working out. I definitely had to have a “pilgrimage” mindset during this. For a short amount of time, physically and energetically I would have to be managing a lot. But I could do this. I could harness my internal wonder woman as I embarked on this journey. Having actually done the camino was helpful. I reflected on the state I was in for those specified days. I questioned at times what the heck I was doing walking so many kilometers, remind myself of the intention, and the fact that so many have walked that path before. I also knew it was temporary and that magical things could happen to assist all peregrinos. And so these flights would be a different camino. It was fitting that the first film I watched on the extended journey would be The Camino, a Danish film that came out this past year. https://www.imdb.com/title/tt24177444/
I heard a quote once that “it ends as it begins.” And I thought of this as we flew from Malaga to Paris in the 2 hour journey, the city I lived in last year. In the three hour layover, I felt horrible for Bella as there were no pet relief areas. My mom bought her the cutest diaper skirt and diapers for the journey. I walked her during this break, she lifted her leg and half peed in the diaper and a wall. I grateful to have Isabella and my mom to assist me as I cleaned it up, and Bella made her own makeshift pet relief area. I was so surprised and grateful that Bella had no accidents on the 10 ½ hour flight from Paris to Los Angeles.
There was more relief and gratitude as my brother picked us up from LAX in a SUV, and had Filipino food waiting to feed us. His girlfriend had spent days cleaning the house in preparation. And we could finally breathe and rest.
In the past, embarking on a pilgrimage like this would have been overwhelming. I would have somaticized the pain, cried at various stressful trigger points, and had ruminating thoughts of anxiety. This is all okay if these emotions arise, I once did this. But for some reason this move was different. I was present to what was at hand, had assistance from friends and family. It could have been the frame of mind I was in, the pilgrimages I’ve done, or the hundreds of hours of meditation practice I have done over the years. Perhaps it’s in these moments that the results of accumulated practice are culminated. Calm surrender and trust that the Universe, our guides, God, strangers, and the path are all supporting you on this pilgrimage of life. And with that all, thank you for everyone who has supported me on this journey.
“Compassion for others begins with kindness to ourselves.” — Pema Chodron
Moving is always listed as one of the top 10 events that are attributed to our personal stress. There are so many facets involved with this big ordeal: making the decision to embark on this change, informing one’s landlord, having prospective tenants visit your place, finding a new place to live, searching for a job, interviewing, attaining a job, packing, transportation to the new location, and coordinating the shipment or move of one’s belongings. This is the case for me. In the past six months, I’ve made the decision to relocate. I will not just be leaving my current city, country, but also continent. After 10 ½ years of living overseas, I will be returning to America, a job, and a newly purchased condo. And so the past several months have been eventful, with interviews, travels, paperwork, coordination, and packing.
I had always thought during times of moves, that we must almost be in a manic state to ensure we get everything done. This includes excess energy, less sleep, and full speed ahead planning. I’m generally overcaffeinated and prepared for all. And this time, I’ve tried to decrease some of this and maintain a bit of my spiritual practice. In reality, I do not have the time or mental capacity to do all of my spiritual practice. This is where self-compassion has been vital for me.
It’s during these moments that I remind myself, that it is all ok. Although I may not be able to do my extended leisurely 45 minute spiritual practice every morning, everything counts. Doing just my daily gratitude and reading a spiritual text in the morning may be enough. I also could intentionally choose to make anything a spiritual or mindful practice. I have done this with taking my dog for a walk and being present without the distraction of phones, doing the dishes mindfully, and slowing down the mornings with candlelight and coffee. There are options for reset numerous times of the day.
Instead of harboring on myself that I haven’t been able to do my daily yoga practice, and I can lean into the comfort of knowing I spent quality time with visiting friends or family. I can take it easy on myself because I’m navigating a strenuous transitional time. And I can take deep diaphragmatic breaths, when I remember.
Last month, I had attended a silent retreat. On my free time, as I knit a small blanket, I would repeat the following compassion phrases first with regards to myself, then someone I love, another I am neutral towards, someone I dislike, and the larger world. This is known as metta or loving kindness meditation. The compassion phrases I tend to lean on are the following:
May I be free from suffering.
May I be free from internal and external enemies.
May I live this life with a healthy body and happy mind.
May it be so.
The blanket I was knitting was becoming a compassion blanket, for myself, others and the world. Instead of ruminating on all the stressors that were in my life, I could focus on those phrases and that moment. I remind myself this during my last week living abroad. Can I find comfort in the crazy? Can I hold myself in compassion through change? I encourage this metta practice to all of you, regardless if you are in the midst of transition or simply preparing for the holiday season.
“Travel far enough, you meet yourself.”― David Mitchell
“Where are you from?” It’s the number one question we were asked and asked others on this trip. It was a question that had potentially layers of responses. This is not just what country we were raised in, but where were we living, where did our ancestors come from, and where did we aspire to live? One of the most interesting things about travel is the people you meet, if you give yourself the opportunity to exchange words with strangers. On this most recent trip to the UAE, we met people from India, Philippines, Pakistan, Nepal, Uganda, Egypt, Algeria, Greece, Germany, Singapore, England, Netherlands, and America. This is a tiny glimpse of who exists on this land.
Dubai is one of the most expensive cities in the world. The local population in the UAE is anywhere from 8-20%. One guide alluded to the fact that many of the locals do not work, having received large portions of their finances from oil. Oil was discovered only decades earlier, which brought the new found wealth to the country to a group of people who were nomadic bedouines. He noted that in addition to receiving free healthcare and education, some newlyweds are offered land or villas to assist with their new start in life. When we asked our tour guide if he was of local Emirates descent, he responded “would I be giving this tour if I was?” He said this as he drove us around six of the seven Emirates in one day, he worked seven days a week, giving group and private tours, and sleeps several hours a night balancing work life, family life, and playing professional cricket.
We know that a country can’t survive if nobody works, particularly countries such as the UAE that are developing at such a fast place. This means that 80-92% living in the UAE are expats. Newer digital nomads from Western countries move here due to tax breaks, with zero percent income tax. A fellow German explorer who was on this Emirates tour with us lived in Saudi Arabia for over the past ten years working as a HR consultant for a wealthy family and their multiple businesses. He loved the Middle East and wanted to move to Dubai with his Mexican wife who lives in Qatar, for these exact tax benefits and to expand his business. But not everyone has the financial freedom to live anywhere.
It’s been said that 50% of the population are from India, and another large majority are Filipino. Our Ugandan waitress at a Japanese restaurant asked my friend and I if it was the first time we went to this restaurant. We nodded are heads, as we were there during a Wednesday, which coincided with all you can eat sushi night. Shethought we were expats who were splurging on our night off. It made sense, because I am a mix of Filipina and Eastern European descent and my friend Isabella is Thai. We were brown just like everyone else we saw on the metro and streets. We looked like we could be living here, fellow servers in another restaurant. And if things were different, maybe we would be.
I couldn’t help but think of a parallel life I would have, if my grandmother never immigrated to America from the Philippines. I have mixed feelings with being American, particularly having lived in the UK and Europe for the past 10 years. But I often forget the world of opportunities that are available with an American passport and making a salary in USD.
The UAE is welcoming to those wanting to come to their country, allowing one to attain a work visa while on a tourist visa. But for some individuals in service industry jobs, one wonders what it is really like. Pay is low (although probably more than that of one’s third world country), health care is provided, transportation to and from one’s job is also offered. This is in addition to lodging, but transportation is on large school buses. Tourists are enamored by the bright lights of the skyskrapers and the fountain show in front of the flashing Burj Khalifa. One only has to look a little further outside a taxi or bus window to see the lines forming on the side entrances of malls or hotels, picking up and dropping off staff members at transitional hours. The UAE is expensive and therefore having housing benefits is a perk, but it’s been said that people may have up to 10 roommates in a 1bedroom apartment. I shared this story to friends in Paris, and they had heard rumors of passports being taken until debts are paid back to those who brought them over to the UAE. My ex-husband who was Italian American told me this years ago as he was sent to Dubai to open a new restaurant, but I couldn’t fathom the depths of struggle industry workers from third world countries were facing.
This blows my mind, and I wonder how this occurs in a land that many pilgrimage to in order to see these astounding feats of human creation. The UAE has created man made islands, engages in cloud seeding (where planes fly into clouds to produce rain), there are ever increasing skyscrapers and it boasts the most records in the Guinness Book of World Records, with such extravagances as the largest mall, the tallest building, and the largest gold piece of jewelry. These extravagances are built on the backs making meager income. It is a choice to work in the UAE, but how much freedom do these people have?
We often forget that physical space, such as one bedroom apartments, are a luxury many of us are privy to. Sacrifices are made to live in the UAE with one’s privacy, living situation, weather, and working hours. Oftentimes money is sent back to families in their homeland, expat parents may be providing money for grandparents or aunties and uncles caring for their own biological children they had to leave behind for all to lead “better” lives. I pondered what my life would have been like, if my grandmother, aunt, and mother never left the Philippines. Although they had great jobs in the medical field and we came from a wealthy family, who would I be if they hadn’t been willing to take the leap to move to a new land?
We talked with some of the people we met who moved to the UAE from other countries and now had aspirations to move to Nordic territories such as Finland or Sweden. Although these countries are also some of the most expensive in the world and can get extremely cold, it was an aspiration to live in these exotic lands. The UAE was to be a springboard for their next dream. They were paying their dues working hard there to aspire to advance to places with more freedom, income, and flexibility within the EU.
There were other moments of my future and past meeting me on this trip. On an hour long cruise along the Dubai Creek, we met three individuals travelling together. We thought they were a cute adult family, but it turns out two were Caucasian coworkers at a travel company and the other Hispanic individual who was travelling with them they had just met and asked to come along: Mike, Joan, and Toey. One of the individuals, Mike, was our ideal future travel self. Both Isabella and I set a goal recently to join the Travel Century Club (TCC) before we turn 50. To join TCC one must travel to at least 100 territories, which is more expansive than countries. After the UAE, I am currently at 75 territories and 53 countries. Mike was familiar with TCC, as he has travelled to over 165 territories, including the North Pole and Antarctica several times. This 68-year-old man was a kindred spirit because he encouraged us to go to Unesco World Heritage sites and National Parks. These are places Isabella always strives to visit, and this year I had applied to work at both of these organizations. Both Joan and Mike were on a cruise together throughout Greece and Egypt and met fellow passenger Toey. Mike was supposed to have his girlfriend come on this extended holiday with him, but she wasn’t able to make it, therefore they invited Toey for the ride. Toey was a young special education teacher from Texas, who bought a one way ticket to Europe, as he was on disability leave. He never had time or money to travel, as he was always working. Now was his chance, he had little plans and allowed moments of synchronicity to arise on this trip. Mike felt empathy and compassion for Toey, being a previous educator himself, and offered an invitation for him to tag along and take his girlfriend’s spot on the remainder of his Middle Eastern and European journey. Mike was paying travel privileges forward, and I had a feeling in the future Toey would do the same to another stranger.
On another excursion to the Dubai Spice and Gold Souks, we met two African American coworkers from Washington DC, who were court reporters. They appeared to be in their fifties to sixties and had travelled the world together. I had realized that Isabella and I were also prior coworkers, as we met on the set of filming a television show over twenty years ago on a set in Los Angeles. We have also taken trips around the world together. This was their second time in Dubai in two years. They loved it so much and there was more to experience on their UAE bucket list they had yet to achieve, so they returned. Their zest for life was how we aspire to continue to wander the world and make the most of the vacations we have. Time passed on the large souk tour, and we lost track of these fellow travellers. I noted to Isabella how we didn’t get to say goodbye, but the Universe wanted to ensure we did. That same evening, after getting lost in the world’s largest mall, the Dubai Mall, we ran into them, shared our days’ experiences, and grabbed a selfie. We were them and they were us.
The following day our jam packed adventure tour included two young 30 something men from Greece, and an African American fifty something married couple from Columbus Ohio. These young men were working as engineers on a construction project and were in Dubai for the past 20 days. That day was their first day off that month, and we could tell they were letting off steam as they glided and weaved in and out of their atvs or surfing on the sand dunes. Their past several years were filled with 12 hours work days in foreign countries, sacrifices made for their future selves. Both Isabella and I could relate to this offering much of our energy and time in our 30s to our jobs, making the most out of any amount of free time we had. In regards to the Ohio couple, he was retired working for the military, living in various places in America throughout his life, including Hawaii but being raised in New York. I was born in Ohio, and meeting someone from Ohio in the Middle East is simply wild. We talked story of Ohio State football culture, which has it’s own traditions. In addition, their military and New York and Hawaii life resonated with me, as I have worked with them, lived in NYC and Hawaii twice myself.
These are reflections I have on my Air France flight back to Spain, as an American, where I currently reside which has a layover in Paris, where I lived last year. All versions of me being an amalgamation on one trip. What’s so fascinating with this trip is that Dubai seemed like every place and no place. The downtown city skyline was endless and took the best brands from multiple countries of hotel chains, restaurants, cafes, grocery lines, and clothing stores and brought them all there. It’s a wealthy city which refreshingly smells of sandalwood everywhere you go, and is a melting pot of expat workers whose sole existence is to build, serve, and grow this land into a cosmopolitan luxury superpower and have bragging rights for as many world records as possible. With every person we met, regardless of their ethnicity or occupation, I could relate. In some way, whether in a past, present, future, or parallel world- they all could be me. It’s vital to see the similarities amidst the differences and to be able to see ourselves in others. Take the time to talk to strangers, whether fellow travelers or staff members. Who knows which version of you will be met on your next trip?
“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did.” ― Mark Twain
As I held tightly to the grip of my atv in the Dubai desert, I tried to convince myself “this is supposed to be fun.” It was my first time on an atv, with minimal instructions given, outside of how to turn the vehicle on and follow who is in front of you. “Follow me exactly, you don’t know the desert, and if you go even one meter off, it could be a drop in the sand.” I was over alert, after my atv stalled and turned off in the first 10 minutes, after I gave it too much gas. I couldn’t turn correctly and would veer too much to one direction, or I only pushed the gas minimally, and lingered behind the group due to my lack of speed. I remained hesitant throughout the first half of my drive.
My friend and I were on an 8 day journey to the UAE, to add seven emirates to our ever expanding list of territories for the Travel Century Club (TCC). We had spent two days travelling from Spain to get here, after a cancelled flight in Paris. Our sleep was minimal and now our adrenaline was heightened on this day long adventure excursion. I couldn’t help but wonder if we were overdoing it at this moment.
As we drove our atvs up and down small hills, they would get stuck out of the sand. Our tour guide would have to get into the seat or lift the vehicle out of deepened sand. Our atvs then drove up a large hill and stopped in a central area, where all other drivers were stopping. It was time for sandsurfing. A snowboard was used as perhaps sandboards do not exist, as our Egyptian tour guide noted it’s the same. I’ve never snowboarded or skied. I wondered if I fall down. The couple from Ohio in our group both opted to skip this portion of the journey, while the Greek boys flowed down the sand, as if they were naturals. And the first time going down the hill, within seconds I fell. My bum was temporarily sore, but nothing horrible happened. I got up again and tried, and made it down the hill without falling. I did it! It was after this, that the tour guide then said, “We’re going to go through the difficult part now, don’t be scared. If you are scared, then it will impact your drive. You got this. What’s the worst that could happen? You fall in sand?”
I am not sure if it was those words from our guide who said, “what’s the worst that could happen?”, my first failed attempt in the sand or the confidence I built when accomplishing this feat, but a shift occurred. When I got on the atv again, something changed. I was more relaxed, I drove faster. I caught up with the group with more ease. I recognized I needed to be at one with the vehicle. Surrender to the moment, process, and align with the experience. It was when I felt this that I began to enjoy this ride.
This was a metaphor for my journey to the United Arab Emirates. I was slightly concerned of travelling this deep into the Middle East, due to worries from friends, family members, and the news. My mom also heightened fear in me of getting arrested for bringing the wrong medication or vitamins, chewing gum if it was illegal, or wearing inappropriate clothing. I had been warned of an American female who recently was arrested and jailed for touching an airport security guard, and having an argument with him. I prepared for this trip with the mantra of “do not get arrested” versus “live it up lavishly and enjoy.” This was evident in the initial clothing I packed looked as if I was going to Amish country in Ohio rather than the cosmopolitan city of Dubai. But after watching loads of youtube videos and Sex and the City 2, I realized I needed to bring a little bit more color to my wardrobe. And so I did. I would be respectful of the culture, but still be me.
What I needed to do was loosen my grip on the vehicle, let go of fear, build confidence, learn from my falls, and be at one with the experience. Surrender and be present, not just for this ride, but for this trip, and for the larger journey of life.
“I would rather own a little and see the world than own the world and see a little of it.” ~ Alexander Sattler
Today I leave for a one week long silent retreat. Although I am flying from Spain to Italy, there’s no stress. The bus ride to the airport and security check in was easy, minimal people and lines. There is beauty in travelling in your city’s down season. I am not fluent in Spanish or Italian, but travelling between these countries is uncomplicated. Currently I am living in Spain, and Italy I have been to nearly fifteen times. It feels as if it is a second home, and therefore my parasympathetic nervous system is in activation.
One has to mentally prepare for a silent retreat. The planner and I Pad were left at home. In addition, to forewarning others they will not be hearing back from you anytime soon (friends, family, jobs, landlords, etc), you must also forewarn yourself. No speaking, communicating, Netflix online scrolling, google searching, social media posting, or news reading. It sounds lovely right? But you have to be prepared.
I will be at the Mandali Retreat Center, literally among the clouds, near the Alps. Because this is my fourth time at this retreat center and with teachers I have studied with for years, I can relax. My body knows it will be taken care of. From the beautiful landscape I will be surrounded by, to the vegetarian homemade food I will eat, teas available, or the pool and jacuzzi at my convenience- I know I can relax. My only job for one week is to be present. There are no meetings to be had, emails to respond to, or expectations that can be made of me. As I write this, I am truly grateful, and realize this is pure luxury.
As I sit in the airport, and sip my coffee, there’s even more comfort. Costa Coffee is a British coffee chain. It once was my favorite, when I lived there, and now it’s an infrequent treat that I see on rare occasions. It’s as if I am sipping onto warm memories.
Travelling can be stressful, as there are so many components involved, as one prepares for a trip. All must line up, from transportation, to who will dog sit or house sit, packing, lines to wait in, and everything in between. Being able to have the opportunity to feel relaxed and rested amidst the height of travel offers that gentle but firm support one needs to voyage.
It Only Takes A Smile 