Energy vibrated through my spine as I devoured an unexpected email yesterday morning.
The text portion of Eduardo’s message read simply: “SI TIENES LA POSIBILIDAD NO TE LO PIERDAS”, which translated means “If it is in any way possible, do NOT miss this.”
Attached to the email was a complicated four-page flyer, written entirely in Spanish, advertising the twenty-first annual world-wide ceremony of “Dos de Octubre”—a meeting of the sacred feminine circles, celebrating the life of Regina.
Exactly three weeks ago, I spent an afternoon listening to Eduardo passionately share stories of Regina, how she spent her childhood years in Tibet, having been given spiritual keys to bring to the native tribes in Mexico, then being martyred after having marched through the streets of Mexico City with her followers on October 2nd, 1968. I was fascinated as Eduardo shared this story, and a deep desire to learn more about Regina’s life continues to flow through me.
While reading Eduardo’s email, a feeling of excitement settled in as I realized I was being presented with an opportunity to experience Regina’s story first hand, with a variety of native people who devote their lives to continuing the unified spiritual awakening that she initiated.
On Sunday, a group of people will be walking, dressed in white, from the Basilica de Guadalupe to the Bosque de Chapultepec. This is a reenactment of Regina’s famous spiritual march. After the march will be a six-hour meditation service. Then, on Wednesday and Thursday, the same people will gather in a nearby city, at Regina’s former home, participating in dance, song, stories, meditation, Temazcales (sweat lodges), and all night vigils.
As I wrangled with the difficult task of translating the flyer’s details, my body began to be consumed with doubt and fear—panic might be a more accurate term.
Although the flyer implied that the celebration was in and around Mexico City, I could find no written confirmation of such. The names and locations mentioned were all foreign to me. I began to scour the internet, looking for information about the places listed in the email, but most were quite ambiguous, and left me with large gaping doubts.
“Why am I feeling so terrified?” I gently queried within, digging more deeply into the origin of my fear.
In past travels to unfamiliar places, I have rarely experienced even the slightest feeling of fear. In those prior trips, I have always had sufficient up-front time to research and orient myself. Feeling in charge of my destiny, I consistently armed myself with advance reservations and an excess of information and maps.
This trip was different, however. I would definitely not be prepared, having no knowledge whatsoever of the area. I began to feel partially paralyzed by a barrage of insecurities. As I slipped into my fears, I imagined how lost I would feel as I literally dropped myself off in the middle of a large metropolitan jungle with nearly 20 million residents.
“What if I am in the wrong city entirely? Where will I sleep? Will I be able to find the places where I am supposed to meet others? What happens if I cannot find them? If I do find them, will I be welcomed and included, or excluded as an outsider?”
But, above all, my biggest fears revolved around language. “Am I fooling myself, or am I actually up to the task of traveling and communicating in Spanish … asking questions … and being able to understand the answers?”
In many ways, the emotions reminded me somewhat of how I felt four years ago when my heart literally demanded that I go back to school. Though my current feelings were nowhere near as strong, I definitely “knew” that I am going to Mexico City.” At the same time, my ego/left-brained voices screamed “Hell no you are not… you are out of control … you don’t know what you are doing … there is no way can go to Mexico City this week … you need more time and more planning.”
Along with the fear, another thought crossed powerfully through my mind. “How can I possibly expect to travel in other unknown foreign countries if I cannot get over this silly fear? This experience will be critical in gaining needed skills and confidence.”
With the internal debate still raging, I headed to the plaza to consume some lunch; I was literally starving. In response to a strong unconfirmed hunch that I would soon be visiting with Eduardo, I opted to ride my bicycle. After satisfying my hunger cravings, I picked up my cell phone and dialed Eduardo’s number.
“I would really like to talk to you about this “Dos de Octubre” event in Mexico City.” I began.
After a short discussion, Eduardo invited me, “Come over right now, I am home right now and have the free time to talk about everything.”
Soon, I was on my bicycle, excitedly zipping through the narrow streets of Cozumel, anxious to pose my burning questions.
As Eduardo and I began to talk, my mind was still racing through the doubts and fears of the unknown. Gradually, one by one, he answered every question. In a great act of generosity, Eduardo lovingly gave me three hours of his time, not only in providing answers, but also in sharing more stories, educating me about the places I will visit, describing the types of people who will be there, and summarizing the types of activities in which I may participate.
Having seriously considered just hopping onto a bus, I was grateful that Eduardo encouraged me to fly. “The bus will be an exhausting journey of over 24 hours,” he advised, “and the airplane only costs a little more.”
Then Eduardo provided me with the name and phone number of a good but inexpensive hotel, right near downtown where I need to be. I will be able to stay there for less than $20 (US) per night.
“I worry that I will feel like an outsider.” I confided, looking into his eyes to find some reassurance that I should really go. “I am nervous that the others might resent my presence there.”
To this Eduardo laughed and warmly said, “Brenda, There will be a wide variety of people there. Just join the march on Sunday. As you are walking along, start up conversations with people, getting to know them, sharing your story. Just as you and I have become friends, they will befriend and help you too. It will be just like you and I sitting here.”
Eduardo had such an air of genuine love and peace in his eyes as he confidently reassured me. His comments buoyed my spirit and my courage. “Yes,” I told myself, “I don’t know why I am so fearful. I have made new friends many times before, and I WILL do it again.”
Eduardo even gave me the name of a Mexican lady to look for—one of the organizers who participates every year—and better yet, she even speaks English.
After dinner, I began researching, and was amazed at how much information I found about the area. This logistical knowledge somewhat appeased my left brain, and peace returned to my soul. I began feeling very confident about the upcoming trip.
This morning, after sleeping on my feelings, I finalized my commitment. There is no going back.
I am now the proud owner of a round trip ticket on Aero Mexico. I leave Cancun early this Friday afternoon, arriving in Mexico City just a few hours later. After eight days in the Mexico City area, I will return to Cancun on Saturday afternoon, October 3rd.
I have not yet discussed arrangements with Rafael, but I have a sneaking suspicion that I will also be visiting his meditation group later that night before returning to Cozumel.
As I reflect back on my fears of yesterday, I actually find my feelings of panic to be quite comical. Throughout my entire life, I have always had some semblance of control—the type of control that comes from having a plan—from trying to be fully prepared.
Prior to yesterday, I had not given much consideration to how strongly my ego/left brain still wants to be the captain in charge—calling the shots, knowing where I am going to be and what I will be doing there.
It is my deepest desire to learn to completely trust my heart—to be able to step into the dense fog of the unknown with pure loving confidence and trust. While such peace is indeed my frequent partner, I apparently have a little more growth ahead of me.
A strong hunch tells me that this week’s events will take me deep into that fog, giving me ample opportunities to practice “experiencing the unknown.” Even though I know very little about what is about to unfold, my fears are now gone, being replaced instead by wonder, curiosity, and excitement.
Copyright © 2009 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved