It is more than just a cliché statement, that “one must first get lost, before they are found”…Life is nothing if it is not a journey and process of discovery and re-discovery—the keeping of your senses alive with frequent enough changes in stimulus, even if that only means picking a different route home.
We have reinvented ourselves numerous times. Yes, we are the same people at heart, our core selves are not malleable with the changing tides, but our external circumstances have had their fair share of flux. There is both beauty and pain in this…the thorn with the rose. Life, in all its glory, its dark and light, has its hard edges and circumstances that invite your spirit to grow and expand…walking towards and through them takes courage, humor, fortitude and an inner knowledge, that in the end, a life worth living will not be measured by the hours sat on the couch dreaming of what could be.
Today after dropping the kids off at school, I adventured home by foot in the rain, walking first through the Jardín…..cold, wet, the town slowly emerging on this cool May morning, only a few people in site, a rarity considering its usual large crowds once the day is awake and alive with activity.
In my pre-San Miguel life, scheduled intense exercise, be it a boot camp class or bikram yoga in a 105 degree room, was part of my daily round, equal in importance to brushing my teeth. Life here in a 15th century cobble-stone colonial town with its steep inclines is what now constitutes my daily work out, and a challenging one at that!
After the Jardín and a peek into the quiet, empty, energy filled Parroquía, I ventured on a different route home, not knowing where it would lead me, other than up. The rain really started to increase, and although not equipped with an umbrella, bother me it did not, for there is just something so exhilarating and fun about being caught in the rain, gifting memories and present-time sensations of youthfulness, agelessness, where time stands still and you are in the moment.
The stairs ahead lead me to ‘Cruz del Pueblo’, almost the highest peak of town, not a soul in sight, except for me. I considered venturing on and beyond, to see if there was a ‘salida’ (exit) that would lead me to my street, but the lone pair of man’s pants hanging eerily on the misty tree a few feet in front, had me doing a fast 180 degree turn around and back down the way I came up. Travels have taught me to honor that 6th sense of intuition, and when something doesn’t feel right, to listen to it.
I wasn’t so frightened that I didn’t take the time to take this picture of my well-earned view:
At this point the downpour was substantial enough to where I was now soaked, and it was time for me to make my way home. Down the same way I made my way up, I navigated my way through the very wet streets, careful to not slip on the many cobblestones and slick cement stairs.
There is something so exhilarating about being lost and found, somehow all at the same time…an opportunity to ‘taste’ and ‘feel’ in the right here and now the multitude of experiences we humans are granted in this life walk. I choose to define my adventures in meaningful ways, to extract value from each of them, and in turn enrich my life presence, purpose, and contribution.
And now, I will sign off to get ready to pick up The Reds from school at 2:30, swimsuits and towels in hand, ready for some FUN and adventure here: