A tiny six-inch lizard appears atop the short wall surrounding the clock tower. As he scales his way nose-first down the vertical wall, this little guy makes the descent look just as easy as walking across level ground. Seconds later my reptilian friend scampers across a small open area and approaches an eight-inch white decorative wall that surrounds a nearby Royal Poinciana tree. I am totally unprepared for what comes next.
From a complete stop, this amazing little lizard with his short stubby legs suddenly leaps straight into the air. The jump is timed perfectly. On his way up, his tiny floating body remains perfectly parallel to the ground. After barely clearing the top of the wall, this little acrobat lands casually on top. As if gloating, the little athlete pauses to perform several front legged pushups before disappearing into the inviting branches of the beautiful fern-leafed orange-flowered tree.
The plaza is quiet on this early morning, the sun just barely peaking over the tops of nearby buildings. A small group of pigeons eagerly gather to help me finish off my cinnamon roll. A cool refreshing breeze brings a feeling of new life. A small surge of energy bursts through my spine as I reflect on deep gratitude—gratitude for once again being able to feel that joyful aliveness flowing through my veins—an aliveness that just a few days ago seemed to be worlds away.
System Reboot
It started out as any other Wednesday. After eating a Denver omelet at breakfast with some American friends, I returned home to pack for an afternoon of reading books and/or studying Spanish in Playa Del Carmen. I first noticed something was different as I sat down for an early afternoon lunch at one of my usual spots.
While sipping on my soft drink, I noticed that it seemed sickly sweet. My plate of enchiladas looked downright repulsive. It was not until I began forcing myself to eat that I became distinctly aware of the mild nausea that was already present in my confused body. After forcing half of the meal into my stomach, the rest ended up in the trash.
Not giving much subsequent thought to my stomach upset, I pushed forward with my afternoon plans, finding myself in Playa Del Carmen shortly after 3:00 pm. Sheer exhaustion soon overwhelmed my body, as my unsuccessful attempt to read turned instead into an unplanned nap laying flat on my back in the sand. My body wanted to sleep longer, but I was overwhelmed with a feeling of shivering cold. A cool breeze was blowing, the skies had become overcast, and dark clouds were moving in.
By 5:00 p.m., I was shivering inside Rafael’s restaurant, where I had already waited out the storm that had now both come and gone. But my nausea and chills were getting worse. The air conditioning made me feel extremely uncomfortable, my head felt a little hot, and I was beginning to wonder why everyone else was not acting cold. It was all I could do to sit limply in a corner, holding my stomach, leaning my head against a wall, optimistically expecting both the nausea and the chill to pass very soon.
Finally I gave in to the realization that even if I were to go to the “A Course in Miracles” study group that night, I would be miserable. Not only would I be unable to contribute—I would actually be a distraction to others. Reluctantly I picked up my cell phone, called Michiko, described my physical situation, and told her I was returning to Cozumel on the 6:00 p.m. ferry.
Twenty minutes later I was standing with my bicycle on the pier, waiting for my ferry to arrive, anxiously wondering if I would even be able to make the crossing without losing what little food I had in my stomach. Then the phone rang.
“Hola Brenda,” Eduardo began. “Michiko was quite concerned and called me to let me know that you are sick. I can pick you up at the ferry terminal if you like. We can tie your bicycle to the back of my car and I can drive you home.”
Tears of gratitude began to form in my eyes as I absorbed those kind words into my awareness. I had not yet realized just how alone and helpless I was beginning to feel. Eduardo’s call reminded me that I am not alone. There are many people here on the island that would be more than eager to help me if I were to request their assistance.
“No, I appreciate your offer, but I think I’ll be fine. I still feel strong enough to ride home on my own.” I replied to Eduardo.
Part of me wanted to say “yes”, but I felt silly and didn’t want to be a burden.
As the conversation unfolded, Eduardo instructed me to buy some Gatorade and some “Sal de Uvas” (salt of grapes).
“The Sal de Uvas will help settle your stomach,” he coached me, “and the Gatorade will help you maintain your electrolytes and prevent dehydration.”
“Please call me anytime tonight or tomorrow.” Eduardo concluded. “If you need anything I will come over and help.”
Eduardo and Michiko seemed to know something that I did not. I was still convinced that I was just dealing with some mild stomach upset that would be gone by morning.
The wait for my ferry seemed to take forever. Finally I was safely aboard, haven chosen an open-air seat upstairs, in the rear-middle of the ferry, sitting right by a handy trash can. Amazingly, I made it all the way to Cozumel without worsening my nausea, and was soon speeding through dark narrow streets on my bicycle, heading toward a pharmacy near my home.
When the salesgirl told me they didn’t sell Sal de Uvas, I began to wish I had accepted Eduardo’s offer for a ride. I had visions of running all over the city trying to buy Sal de Uvas—and by now, exhaustion was consuming me, and I felt as if I were developing a fever. Finally, thirty minutes and several stops later, I walked through my front door with my assigned purchases. Minutes later, my cell phone rang yet again. It was dear sweet Eduardo making sure I had arrived safely—repeating his instructions to call him, day or night, if I needed any help.
An hour later, the fever continued to strengthen, and I had developed a very strong headache. My whole body felt like an oven, yet at the same time I was cold and shivering violently. Finally giving in to the shivers, I climbed between my sheets, quickly pulling my thin bed-comforter tightly over and around my whole body. While sweating profusely with a high fever, I remained tightly wrapped in my bed linens, trying to remain warm—quite the oxymoron.
Two Advil and four hours later, my fever finally broke and I began to feel the insane shivers subside as well. In the meantime, the relentless and intense diarrhea had begun. By now I had figured out that my body was suffering from food poisoning and was attempting to flush out the toxins.
I was up and down, back and forth to the bathroom, at least every fifteen minutes for the rest of the night.
The nausea was so intense that in desperation I finally forced myself to vomit at around 2:30 a.m., praying for the relief that I hoped would come with purging the poisons from my stomach.
Somehow, I survived the long difficult night.
Somehow, I managed to remain an observer—never fully buying into the trauma/drama of being sick—never fully identifying with the gravity of the illness, even though I felt ever so empty and spiritually lifeless.
Somehow, I managed to remember that everything has a reason and a purpose—and that soon I would be able to find the hidden treasure of this experience.
By midmorning on Thursday, I was extremely weak and starving, and I realized that I was in desperate need of some type of nourishment and more Gatorade. After taking a long shower, during which I mostly sat on the floor by the drain, I coaxed myself to walk in baby-steps to the nearest market.
After an exhausting walk, I managed to consume and hold down several soda crackers, beginning the very slow process of gradually reintroducing bland food to my traumatized stomach.
Realizing how much I could really use some assistance, I finally swallowed my pride and called Eduardo. I’ll be there in ten minutes he told me. A huge sigh of relief flowed through my spirit.
Eduardo had me retrieve my yoga mat, and asked me to lie on the kitchen floor, with my head facing north. Soon, he began working his healing magic on me. While gently touching me on my forearm to connect with my body’s energy, Eduardo held a pendulum in the other hand. If you are familiar with kinesiology (or muscle testing) the concept is very similar.
Our soul or higher self is deeply connected to the source of all truth, and our body is able to subconsciously access that energy and truth. With kinesiology/muscle testing, the body subconsciously reacts with strength when asked a true question, and the body reacts with weakness when asked a false question. With the pendulum, our body subconsciously moves the pendulum in one direction when asked a true question, and moves it differently when asked a false question.
In his energy work, Eduardo is very tuned-in to the use of his pendulums, and in a very skilled way is capable of accessing much needed answers, answers which the subconscious already knows.
Just like Eduardo, I use my energetic intuitions to tell me true and false, but in my case I rely on the feelings generated in my heart. On Thursday, as Eduardo used the pendulum to ask my body to identify the type and cause of my illness, my heart confirmed very strongly that I should trust Eduardo’s diagnosis and treatment plan.
“Is it Salmonella?” Eduardo asked my body.
“No” was the answer. A sense of welcome relief accompanied that simple word.
“Is it E-Coli?” …. “No” … “Does Brenda need to see a medical doctor?” … “No” … “Are antibiotics needed?” … “No.”
In a very short period of time, Eduardo used my body’s energy to determine that the source of my food poisoning was the ham in my Wednesday morning Denver omelet. He reassured me that my condition was not life threatening and would heal itself naturally in time for me to attend the festivities near Playa Del Carmen on Saturday.
“Your body wants you to gradually begin eating apples, carrots, and grapes,” Eduardo told me, “and be sure to keep taking the Sal de Uvas every six hours, drink plenty of Gatorade and water, and avoid dairy for a while.”
Eduardo also scolded me (gently) for having taken an Immodium A.D. just a few hours earlier. “Brenda, your body needs to flush out these toxins. What you did was prevent your body from being able to do its job. If the diarrhea returns, please let it run its course.”
After doing the “questioning” work, Eduardo then settled into treatment mode. For more than an hour, I laid on my yoga mat while Eduardo quietly worked on my energy levels. Methodically, reverently, Eduardo used his pendulums, crystals, and flowers to explore and to heal my energy.
“Brenda, your second and third chakras already had an energy blockage before this happened.” Eduardo began, as he summarized his findings. “You would probably have gotten sick soon anyway, even if you had not eaten that ham.”
I smiled and laughed momentarily because I knew he was right. The second and third chakras deal with control, trust, and fear—all issues that have been bombarding and paralyzing me in the recent days. A feeling of recognition washed over me, letting me know that in both a physical and a spiritual way, my body was being “rebooted—shutdown and restarted” all in preparation for the next phase of my journey.
Before leaving me alone once again, Eduardo first drove me back to the store to help me select and purchase fruit. Walking together through the produce department, I would place my hand on a fruit while he touched my arm and swung his pendulum to ask if this type of fruit was what my body needed and wanted. Soon I was home alone with a bag of golden delicious apples, carrots, green seedless grapes, bananas, and pears. Later, as I sat in silence, my heart was filled with overwhelming gratitude for the loving assistance of my dear friend.
Ever so gradually I began to improve. I began eating an apple on Thursday but was unable to finish—yet I was able to hold down the crackers and Gatorade. The diarrhea returned later that evening, resuming its several-times-per-hour frequency. With every trip to the bathroom, I thanked my body for doing its cleansing job so efficiently.
By Friday mid-morning, the diarrhea had become only occasional, and I was actually able to eat a little bit. In addition to a small amount of fruit, I devoured a bowl of Raman noodles for lunch and a small serving of plain white rice for dinner.
As I went to bed on Friday evening, I was highly encouraged by the fact that I was actually beginning to feel like partially smiling again, yet my still generally weak status and mild diarrhea was not instilling much confidence about my spending a full day in Playa Del Carmen.
“I might not go tomorrow,” I told myself, “but I’ll leave that decision for the morning.”
It was not until about 10:00 a.m. on Saturday that I decided to pack my overnight bag for a trip on the afternoon ferry. I felt like I had not eaten for two days, but the hunger pains actually felt good compared to the former intense nausea. My silent Jedi voices encouraged me to make the trip … I knew that I needed to go and that everything would be wonderful.
Dia De Los Muertos
As I boarded the 1:00 p.m. ferry, gratitude was once again my travel companion—gratitude for my dear friends, family, and health—but most of all for the spiritual aliveness that was once again beginning to fill my body.
Everything seemed to be golden for me on Saturday.
I first rode straight to Rafael’s restaurant, hoping for a final opportunity to connect. I had not seen him in two full weeks and knew this may be my only opportunity to see him again before I leave.
When I arrived, Rafael was standing on the sidewalk, preparing to move his restaurant. We had time for a great spiritual conversation—a conversation in which I reminded Rafael that everything always happens for a reason. Things don’t always turn out the way we think they should, but if we keep our minds open and listen with our hearts, we can see that things always turn out for the best. We really don’t know what is in our own best interest. Every seeming “tragedy” always bears hidden blessings. All we have to do is listen to our hearts and trust our internal promptings.
As this beautiful conversation wound to a closure, Rafael paused and reflected, and then spoke with a look of profound insight in his eyes.
“Brenda, remember when my Teacher told me that you had something to teach me? Well what you just taught me was it. That is exactly what I needed to hear today. Thank you so much!”
After exchanging huge hugs, we shared our temporary goodbyes, both of us knowing that we will definitely see each other again—possibly in a few months. I am so eternally grateful for my deep friendship with Rafael.
After arriving at Michiko’s home, she insisted on feeding me a meal before taking me to the “Dia De Los Muertos (day of the dead)” festivities at Xcaret. I gratefully accepted her offer. The small salad, Japanese soup, and white rice was incredibly appreciated by my still weak and starving stomach.
During dinner conversation, Michiko stumbled upon my “Prime Directive”. She began asking me questions about my “Ex husband”. Immediately, I knew that another conversation was about to become reality.
I began by explaining that I did not have an “Ex husband”—but this only made her more confused. Finally I just blurted out a summary of my life story—something I seem to be doing a lot of lately.
As I already knew would be the case, my story was not an issue with Michiko. It only served to deepen our relationship, giving us much more interesting material to discuss.
“You know Brenda,” she reminded me, “Our body does not really define us anyway.”
I smiled in full agreement.
That evening, Michiko and I attended the festivities at Xcaret. Throughout facilities at the tourist park, local people were putting on theatre, music, and dance presentations. Our favorite activity of the evening was a two and a half hour professional show put on by Xcaret itself, detailing the history of Mexico through drama, song and dance. It was an elaborate show with beautiful performances, incredible sound quality, and great lighting—well done in every way. I was blown away with the amount and incredible variety of indigenous cultural heritage to be found in Mexico.
Over the past few weeks, I have learned that Dia De Los Muertos—while it falls close to the date of Halloween—has absolutely nothing in common. This day is not a day of trick or treating, nor a day of scary ghouls and goblins. Dia De Los Muertos is actually a day where families get together, usually in a cemetery, and celebrate the life and death of their loved ones.
Eduardo tells me that on the evening of November 1, tradition has family members gathering by the graves of their beloved dead youth. The families party, pray, eat, visit, mourn, and celebrate all night long—in activities very similar to the all-night “Veloracion” for Regina in which I participated just one month ago.
The second night of the festival, November 2, is the evening where families celebrate/honor the lives of their adult dead.
Eduardo also explained that most people who choose to celebrate the holiday do so for one night only—honoring both their youth and adult dead in a single evening, usually on November 1.
As it turns out, my experience in Xcaret did not teach me much about Dia De Los Muertos, but I did learn a great deal about Mexican history and culture.
Michiko and I arrived back at her home after 11:00 p.m., and I quickly excused myself for some much needed sleep in her spare bedroom. Sunday morning, I was eager to catch the 8:00 a.m. ferry back to Cozumel, as I had a tiring and exhausting day ahead of me.
Goodbye to a Beautiful Home
I was originally supposed to be out of my home by Saturday evening (October 31). On Friday, when it became evident that this would not be happening, I called my property manager to explain my dilemma. With my food poisoning, there was no way I was going to make it.
“Monday morning at 9:15 a.m. will be fine.” She told me.
I was so grateful for the extra time, but knew that my entire Sunday would be devoted to laundry, cleaning and packing.
My stomach was still weak, and I didn’t want to push myself too hard, so I paced myself throughout the day, beginning first with laundry and sporadic cleaning.
By mid afternoon I had begun packing suitcases. There was no way I would have time to do final packing so I adopted a new strategy. My largest two suitcases were first stuffed to the brim with belongings which were definitely staying behind. I then packed a small duffel bag and my smallest suitcase with all remaining items—knowing that I would have to go through them later to make final decisions. During this process, I became acutely aware of just how lightly I will need to travel over the next few months. Space in my backpack will be extremely limited.
It was 9:30 p.m. before I finally finished my day’s tasks. Utter exhaustion was the emotion of the evening as I carefully navigated my bicycle through the dark streets to JayDee’s home. For most of the next week, this will be my temporary home—a place of regrouping, final re-packing, and launching pad for the future. JayDee is on a two-week cruise, and I can stay here as long as needed to get my feet planted back on the ground.
Yesterday morning, after a wonderful rest, I was back to work quite early. By 8:30 a.m. I had already been back and forth between the houses, using a taxi to transport my heavy and bulky luggage. Finally I was ready to relax and wait.
Then I heard the roof calling to me. As I wound my way upward around the small and narrow spiral staircase, a feeling of nostalgia blessed my thoughts.
“This roof is what called me to this home in the first place,” I reminded myself, “and I could never leave without saying goodbye.”
Finding a small shady spot behind one wall, I sat and reflected over the wonderful experiences that have taken place on this roof—a series of spiritual experiences and insights paraded through my mind, one by one. Tears of joy began to flow, turning my eyes red and washing away my eye liner.
“Oh great,” I smiled jokingly, “this is exactly what I need right before talking to my property manager.”
But I simply wiped the tears away and kept reflecting. Red eyes or not, I felt drawn to finish my ceremony of gratitude. Soon, I was standing, performing my ten-step Qigong breathing exercises four times, once facing in each compass direction. Then as reverently as I had ascended, I slowly descended the winding metal stairs back to my front door.
Visiting each and every room in my home, one by one, I pronounced a small blessing of gratitude for each, thanking that room for the beautiful service it had provided in my journey.
Soon, the experience was all over in quick fashion. I walked through the home with my property manager, proudly showing her how clean everything was.
Before handing me an envelope with my $700 cash deposit, she told me “Brenda, you didn’t need to spend all that time cleaning. You should have asked me. We’re just going to send in cleaners anyway.”
Somehow, I didn’t care. By cleaning I was leaving the home with love, honor, and respect—exactly as I had found it. As I pedaled away for the last time, gratitude was vibrating through every cell of my body. I had said my goodbyes and was now ready to launch forward on a new adventure.
Blessings in Disguise
All weekend, my focus has been on discovering the hidden treasures of having been sick. Believe it or not, I have found many, and I am grateful for each of them.
First and foremost, the illness served to deepen my spiritual connections with Eduardo, helping me to gain additional insights and experiences with his energy healing practices. I am so incredibly grateful for the loving help that Eduardo provided to me during my darkest hour in Cozumel.
Second, in some strange way, my food poisoning brought me closer to Michiko. The experience provided her with an opportunity to serve me and gave us both additional opportunities to chat—ultimately leading to an opportunity for me to share my story. I don’t know how, when, or where, but I feel that this deepening will have a definite impact on my future journeys.
Third, the experience has made me wiser and more aware of eating habits and patterns, causing a few internal shifts in my attitude toward eating in Mexico. I will definitely be adding more fruits and vegetables to my diet.
Fourth, I fully recognize the amazing synchronicity of my “system reboot” and how it corresponds with my ongoing struggles with control and fear as I enter this new phase. I fully believe that the energy of my second and third chakras has indeed been plugging up, and this experience was needed to get me cleansed and back on the right path.
Fifth and finally, a very interesting synchronous event happened—one which I only found out about on Saturday while talking to Michiko. I mentioned two months ago that Michiko has a friend in Peru that lives and works with the Shaman near Machu Picchu. Apparently, this friend was at Michiko’s home on Wednesday evening, and has now moved back to a city somewhere else in Mexico. I find this experience fascinating as I look at what did NOT happen. There is no doubt in my heart that if I was supposed to meet Michiko’s friend on Wednesday evening, I would have.
One hour before going to Michiko’s home, the universe guided me, through physical illness, to turn around and leave. Could it be that the universe brought her here so close to me only to say “No Brenda, you must not meet her right now—your path is elsewhere, and meeting her would create a distraction—a distraction that would steer you in the wrong direction.”?
As amazing as this may sound, my heart tells me that this is the case. In a very powerful way the universe made a clever statement of omission, telling me that my future path lies elsewhere.
Leaping Lizards
This morning, as I watched in amazement, I wondered how such a tiny creature, with short stubby legs, could so effortlessly execute such a perfect eight-inch vertical jump.
The whole experience caused me to ponder just how many of my own seeming limitations are self-imposed merely by a belief system that tells me “I cannot do that!”
In my last four months, I have indeed made many seemingly-impossible leaps, achieving goals and completing tasks that at one time seemed very unlikely and/or quite fear inducing.
As I prepare to face future fears and challenges, I can already envision myself as that tiny lizard, easily leaping over my obstacles, ignoring logic and reason, simply relying on my heart to guide me into uncharted territory.
Copyright © 2009 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved