Emotions continue to drift all over the roadmap as my remaining days in Cozumel rapidly disappear into the time-warp of the past. These most recent two weeks have been consumed in a whirlwind of activity, all very low key, simply enjoying and reaping the joy of my experiences on the island. My somewhat confusing promptings, or should I say “lack of promptings,” continue to guide me to simply enjoy my final days, still encouraging me to postpone most all planning and preparations for my next journey.
Last week I enjoyed another beautiful snorkel trip with my American friends, sailing through crystal blue waters, delighting in a wild-weather day of torrential downpours followed by glowing blue skies and calm dancing seas. Then there was a beach snorkel at Punta Sur in an area that has simply got to be the most beautiful snorkeling spot on the island. The shallow reef is loaded with fish, sea turtles, and beautiful waving purple fans.
Today, in another incredible undersea adventure, JayDee and I relaxed at sixty-five feet below the surface, drifting with the currents, floating through the magical world of sea turtles, colorful fish, dazzling coral, moray eels, and beady-eyed lobsters.
Also consuming my time are twice-weekly trips to Playa Del Carmen, yet-another inspired four-and-a-half hour conversation with Eduardo, game nights, final bike rides in the jungle, and the beginnings of goodbyes—all wonderful experiences.
Yet, in the midst of lovingly and lazily enjoying the incredible winding down of an unbelievable adventure, my old-friend ego continues to jump into the fray, demanding attention like an agitated two year old rolling around on the floor throwing a major temper tantrum. Most of the time I calmly and lovingly ignore this unruly child as she flails her arms and legs around wildly—but such attention-getting antics are often hard to ignore.
In low-energy moments, moments of physical exhaustion, I have found my confidence slipping. Doubts begin to sink their roots through unprotected openings in my soul. Once anchored in place, these roots begin to grow, twisting and turning, filling my mind with lies and other nonsense such as, “I’m not going to make it … I don’t have time … I only have a few days left. I should be packing, planning, cleaning, worrying, preparing, organizing, sorting, etc.”
Guilt then jumps into the mix with “I have gone five day’s without receiving any inspiration to write. I’m not being spiritual enough—surely something is wrong with me. I should be receiving firm promptings and guidance about my future by now.”
These judgmental, self-critical thoughts have an uncanny ability to sap my energy levels as they attempt to suck out my very life blood. At times I begin to feel like a directionless fraud—a wanna-be spiritual adventurer who is simply fooling herself.
But then I feel a small tap on the shoulder. When I turn around, I recognize a new spiritual prompting cutting in, asking me to dance. Immediately losing interest in dancing with doubt, I eagerly embrace my new dance partner, once again finding a sense of inner aliveness and purpose.
“How could I have ever doubted?” I ask myself as I energetically fly around the dance floor, my feet feeling lighter than air.
But then, there is a slight lull in the music. My spiritual dance partner takes a short break. In the emptiness of the moment, my old dance partner named doubt comes looking for me to see if I want to dance with him some more.
“What harm can one little dance do?” I ask myself, as I reluctantly say yes.
Soon, I’m watching myself slip back into questioning, criticizing, and judging myself all over again—anxiously awaiting and hoping that my spiritual partner will soon return and tap me on the shoulder yet again. The longer I dance with doubt, the more I begin to minimize and to forget the incredible dance moves of spirit.
Such have been my last few weeks. My spiritual dance partner has taken several short breaks, telling me to enjoy some much deserved rest for a few weeks. For the most part, this is exactly what I have done—yet that persistent little doubt continues to ask me to dance, even when there is no music playing.
The exciting outcome of all of this is that I am not buying into the doubt. Instead, I am sitting back and being the observer, watching his every move. Yes, I dance with him, but I know who and what he is—I study him, his manipulative tactics, his sneaky pick-up lines, his deceptive lure—and in the end I tell him thanks, but no thanks. Perhaps this is the internal growth I needed to experience during this short break in the music.
Dancing With Spirit
Even in this seeming period of waiting and trusting, I have continued to watch with interest as several subtle events magically unfold. My spiritual dance partner continues to cut in for short little dances.
In just three days, my friend JayDee is leaving on a seventeen-day cruise. Last week, out of the blue, she approached me and said “Brenda, this morning when I was on my computer, I had the strongest feeling come over me, saying that I should ask if you want to stay at my home while I am gone.”
Immediately, I felt a mild confirmation telling me “Yes, I will be taking JayDee up on this offer, at least for several days.”
I can’t say why, but I can literally feel myself staying in her home until around November third or fourth.
Wednesday evening, after our “A Course In Miracles” study group in Playa Del Carmen, my new friend Carmen told me “Brenda, you absolutely have to attend the ‘Dia De Los Muertos’ (Day of the Dead) festival at Xcaret next week.”
She didn’t ask me—she told me in no uncertain terms that I need to go—that I am going—that this will be a cultural experience that I absolutely must not miss. Within five minutes all of my logistical worries melted away. Michiko offered both transportation and a place to sleep. My heart replied a resounding “Yes, I would love to experience the festival.”
Call it coincidence, but if I had not already made plans to stay a few extra days at JayDee’s home, I would probably have said “No” to this new invitation. A warm feeling in my heart tells me that the universe wants me to attend this festival.
Another amazing set of promptings unfolded on Saturday. But first, I need to lay a little background. For reasons that I won’t try to explain here, my dear friend Rafael is planning to move his restaurant from its present location to a large shopping mall food court. Interestingly enough, Rafael will likely be moving the restaurant at about the same time that I am leaving Cozumel.
In an effort to ensure that I have a way to find Rafael when I return to the area, (since he is not very responsive via email) I asked Rafael if he would give me directions to find the mall. He began explaining, “You have to go way out to the Federal Highway, then go north toward Cancun, then turn …”
Rafael paused and then said “It is very far and complicated to describe. Next week, Brenda, when you come, I will give you the address and show you how to find it on a map.”
This past Saturday, as I pondered my plans for the day, an internal feeling guided me to take the 1:00 p.m. ferry. I had originally planned to catch a later ferry since my meeting with Rafael was not until 6:00 p.m..
Shortly after arriving in Playa Del Carmen, a strong feeling came over me, saying “Get on your bicycle, start exploring, and go find that shopping mall.”
In blind faith, I began pedaling toward the main Federal Highway, fully aware that I had no idea where the mall was or what it was called.
Once on the highway, I turned north, keeping my bicycle on frontage roads to avoid the congested higher-speed traffic. Simply following my instincts, I pedaled for thirty minutes in the hot and sweaty afternoon sun. At one busy intersection, a small sign on the opposite corner caught my attention—something about a shopping development with one hundred shops—but the word “Mall” was nowhere to be seen.
Even so, a little bird on my shoulder told me “Turn here.”
Ten minutes later, the traffic momentarily thinned enough for me to run with my bicycle across the busy highway. Resuming my journey westward, I pedaled for yet another ten minutes. Finally, a large “Chedraui” store came into view, following which I recognized a “Cinepolis” movie theatre.
“This has to be it.” I eagerly congratulated myself—right before the next prompting hit me.
I have had a feeling for some time now that I would love to have an actual backpack to carry my belongings in my journeys around the Yucatan Peninsula. Dragging a small suitcase around just didn’t “feel” right. On two occasions I had hopefully but unsuccessfully scoured several stores in both Cozumel and Playa Del Carmen—finding absolutely nothing even closely resembling what my heart was asking for.
As this large “Plaza Las Americas” mall came into my view, a distinct feeling flooded through my mind and heart.
“If you look for it, you will find a backpack here in this mall.”
The feeling was quite strong—quite unexpected—yet part of me remained doubtful.
As I first entered the mall, logical thinking guided me into the large Chedraui store. These stores are a smaller Mexican version of something similar to a WalMart—selling an assortment of just about everything—except they almost never seem to have what I really want. Sure enough, after scouring the aisles of this large air conditioned store, I found a small camping section with tents and sleeping bags—but to my surprise, there were absolutely NO backpacks.
Not giving up on my feeling, I began walking through the cool air conditioned hallways of the small indoor mall. Soon, I passed the edge of a large food court—one that looked remarkably similar to what one might see in any modern USA Mall.
“This is where I will find Rafael when I return to Playa Del Carmen.” I pondered. I was thrilled with myself for so easily discovering this place. A sense of peace reassured my soul that I will be able to maintain contact with Rafael after I leave.
Except for one, almost all of the stores lining the long one-story hallway were tiny specialty shops, and none of them appeared to carry sporting goods. One medium sized department store caught my eye. My first reaction was to simply pass the store by, but my feelings quickly guided me inside. Glancing around the ground level, all I could see was a mixture of furniture and appliances.
A quick pass through the second level proved disappointing, and I almost left the store, but a feeling told me, “No, don’t leave, walk through the furniture section.”
In sheer amazement, I stared with disbelief as I walked up to a bunk bed display and noticed two large backpacks lying on the bottom bunk. My memory may be playing tricks on me, but I have no recall of seeing any other camping gear in the entire store.
Ten minutes later I was standing at the cashier, proudly holding my new prized possession—a red nylon backpack, with a sturdy padded frame—one that should be perfect for my journeys.
Several hours later, after studying Spanish on the beach, I made my way to Rafael’s restaurant, eager to begin our evening spiritual gathering.
“Rafael will not be here tonight,” his sister began to fill me in, “his son is sick, and Rafael is home taking care of him.”
As I hurried back to catch the 6:00 p.m. ferry, I giggled as I realized what had happened. It is entirely possible that I may not connect with Rafael again before I leave the area—but through a series of synchronicities, the universe guided me to the location to where he is moving. Then, as if to put an accent mark on the end of the inspiration, the universe satisfied my need for a backpack hidden in the same series of magical events.
What If I’m Wrong
In my first spiritual session with Trish (March 2008), during the same hour in which she told me that Rafael’s Medicine Man “sits in the top of very tall mountains,” Trish pointed out some other incredible insights into my spiritual journey.
Without even knowing me or my life situation, she told me that my spiritual guides were showing her that there are two issues in my life that were holding me back, keeping me from blazing forward.
The first issue was my fear over “What if I’m wrong?” … and the second about “Letting go of Control.”
At the time, I was in the midst of existential fears related to career and financial survival. Just over four and a half months earlier I had been laid off from my twenty-nine year career as a Computer Software Engineer. My deep promptings were guiding me to leave computers behind in the dust, pushing forward with my Masters Degree in counseling—yet at the time, my fears were paralyzing me.
“What if I’m wrong?” was a huge question looming in my life.
Head/Ego was screaming, “Go back to computers … You need the money … You will never survive.”
Heart/Spirit was calmly pushing me forward, “Let computers go … That is no longer your identity … You have another path to follow … You are NOT wrong … This is the most sane thing you have ever done.”
Indeed, I was trying to muster the faith to continue surrendering my life over to spirit, while at he same time desperately clawing, grasping for something to hang onto, trying to find some way to maintain control.
But my heart knew that I could not do both at the same time. Maintaining control prevented me from surrendering to the promptings of spirit, and giving up control left me vulnerable to intense fears and doubts.
Somehow, I found the courage to gradually surrender, one tiny step at a time. With each baby step, my heart was rewarded with incredible peace, my life was touched by amazing blessings, and synchronous little events began to inspiringly unfold all around me, blessing each and every step.
It is these tiny baby steps that have guided me to where I am today, right here, right now. This Friday will mark exactly two years to the day that I left my software engineering job for the very last time. If you had told me then what I would be doing today, I would have cringed in fear.
In many ways, my past dances with doubts were very similar to my dances of today. Yes, the fears and doubts are real. Even with tiny baby steps, each step into the unknown can be terrifying—yet they always land on beautiful solid ground.
As I look back on the path I have followed, one which at the time seemed to be so intimidating, I have only incredible fond memories of love, peace, and growth. How could the future be scary when the present continues to grow more beautiful with every step?
Yes, as I occasionally dance with my old friend doubt, I have the absolute confidence that not many songs will play in the dance hall before a new spiritual prompting rushes in, taps me on the shoulder, and whisks me off to an exciting new growth adventure.
Copyright © 2009 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved