I will remember 2015 as a year of struggle. It held many wonderful experiences but also challenges and events that at times overwhelmed me with sorrow. Remembering all of the good things is a balm to my soul, but I am glad for my annual retreat.
My little village in Mexico offers me healing and replenishment. My arrival this year is interesting. It is a soft landing without leaving much of a ripple. And that is exactly what I need.
I’m always happy to see my local friends. Nothing has changed in that – the friendly smiles, my name called from doorways and porches up and down the street. Children running toward me, calling my name and asking when we will walk together.
And I am lying low.
Although I arrived on Dia de Reyes, I walked on through the clusters of children who were eagerly anticipating the breaking of the piñatas strung high over the street. Mirroring their joy and hugging those who approached, I kept walking. It was a conscious choice but unheard of for me!
Maybe it’s my timing, maybe it’s universal benevolence, but I haven’t seen the “regulars” who, like me, love it here and return (unlike me) for several months of the year. And I have only fleetingly greeted ex-pats who are part of the village life.
At my favorite enramada on the beach I have only greeted my longtime friends who cook and serve. In the evenings I slink into the cenadurias in the village when they are nearly empty. I have my taco, pay, and leave with smiles and compliments.
I am lying low.
Eventually, I will rise up. I will carry home a plastic table from the enramada so that more kids can do puzzles and art on my porch. My good friend who I met here in my second year will arrive. I’ll join acquaintances at a table. Others will see me on the beach and on the streets and conversations will begin.
And when I finally begin participating and writing about that involvement, you can read about my current and/or past journey by clicking here.
For now I am happy seeing only my friend, the egret. He (or a close relative) has been guarding this beach for as long as I have been coming.
I am living in the present, practicing mindfulness by picking up bits of plastic from the beach as I walk barefoot through the sand and lapping waves. I am remembering to be grateful that I can walk outside at any hour of the day or night without flinching from cold.
I am allowing this time in this place to restore my soul.
I am so glad for you, and thank you for sharing the calm and beauty of your present moments.
Yes, Gen, it is a sense of calm to be so removed from “regular” life. (I won’t say “real” life, because life is very real here. xxoo
Loving your tone that carries the soft touch and scent of ocean.
Thank you, Christin. The ocean is a part of the healing here. How can one not be calm and serene while walking along the beach in solitude.
Thank you. And I’m in the right place for it.
Like a breath of fresh air.
It is that…
It touches me deeply to read your words of healing. And that beach, that particular beach…so serene in the morning.
Yes, Gail, you know serenity here. To have solitude on a long stretch of beach that is only minutes from one’s door is a privilege.