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itsthebethblogever · 2 years ago

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A Bird on Her Journey to Self

If you want to know what I have been up to since graduating high school, here is your answer: I've been trying to figure out what I want to do in life, and having lots ups and downs in the process. Like everyone else. This was written with the intention to share my experiences in the hopes that others can relate/learn/laugh/benefit somehow. Ten years of life in one post. Thanks so much for reading, sending you love, enjoy! ♡

Chapter 1: The Bird Leaves the Nest

The laid back, coastal town of Ventura, California offers many wonderful benefits as a home town: perfect weather, spacious beaches, a county fair, farmers markets, and it's close enough to Los Angeles for a day trip but far away enough to not have big city problems like traffic or pollution. However, its small town vibes can sometimes feel like a suburban bubble of safety, so my curious spirit did not begin to fully emerge until I moved to San Francisco for college at the age of 18. From day one, I hit the ground running. As soon as my dad finished helping me unpack, I ran off with some new friends to the Haight Ashbury district with one goal in mind: get my nose pierced (something I was not allowed to do while living at home). That simple yet important milestone was a physical marker of my breaking away from the herd. Beginning to chart my own path. After a fiery freshman year full of firsts, I left SF to study abroad in Växjö, Sweden, full of confidence and a thirst for even more adventure.

I was 20. I had just begun to see the world. Inspired by living with international students who could all speak at least 2 languages, I set a goal to learn Spanish. The question was: How? I began researching ways to live in a Spanish speaking country and landed on the Peace Corps website. To qualify for a Spanish speaking country, I would need a minimum of 2 semesters of college level Spanish. Well, that would work out just fine! I still had another three more semesters at SF State before I could graduate, so when registration came around, I signed myself up for Spanish. Lovely! My post-college plan became: move to a Spanish speaking country and learn the language.

In my second semester of living in a Scandinavian story tale is when a sweet character by the name of David made his debut. We met during a student trip to Finnish Lapland, when one of our three buses broke down. Instead of having the seat next to me for myself for the long journey north, I had to give it up to make room for the other bus mates. Now, sitting next to me, was a tall, talkative Spaniard. So much for my desire to sleep. We introduced ourselves and he saw I was listening to Bon Iver - of course, this was my sleep playlist - and asked me if I had seen them in concert. Well, turns out we both had, and despite not being a chatty mood, my interest was sparked. We continued connecting and I quickly realized that the more time I spent with him, the more time I wanted to just keep spending more time with him. He charmed me with his music taste, social spirit, but most of all: his loving heart. The only problem was that he was from Terrassa, a city near Barcelona, Spain, which is quite far away from California.

But... it was a Spanish speaking country.

Meaning... that if I moved to Barcelona to be close to David instead of joining the Peace Corps, I would still be accomplishing my post-grad goals. It wasn’t just to pursue a relationship.

So, we went for it.

After a tortuous goodbye in Sweden (and then again in Denmark, as he missed his flight home due to a train strike and ended up staying the night with me and my family who had come to visit, lol), we did not know when we would see each other next. However, we made the decision to stay together. David and I maintained a long-distance relationship - San Francisco to Barcelona - during the year and a half it took me to finish my degree. We saw each other only twice during that span of time. Yeah, ouch. It was extremely hard to be apart for so long, but we were determined to find a way to be together.

As soon as I graduated, I wasted no time. January 2016, two weeks after receiving my degree, I hopped on a flight across the pond and moved into my new au pair family’s apartment in the Vila Olímpica neighborhood of Barcelona. My freshly earned degree in Child and Adolescent Development meant I was passionate about working with kids, so the role was right up my alley. At 22 years old, my new life as a part time mom and part time Spanish language student began. I would get my three trilingual children ready for school with some help from their parents, drop them off, and cycle over to the Escola Oficial d’Idiomes. Classes were four times a week with daily homework, my au pair parents spoke to me exclusively in Spanish, and on the weekends half of my friends spoke to me in Spanish as well.

After three trimesters at EOI over the course of a year and a healthy level of immersion, I passed an official exam and gained the Intermediate Spanish certification. I had done it - I had learned Spanish!

Well, mainly. It took me about another year to really start to feel like I could express my personality in Spanish.

Once I completed my au pair year, I moved in with David and two of his childhood friends (by then, also my close friends) in the Gràcia neighborhood of the city when I was 23. For about six months, I supported myself with a variety of English teaching gigs I had accumulated through connections made at my au pair kids’ schools as well as through other English teaching friends in the city.

Life was a thrill. I still could not believe I was finally living in the same country with David, much less the same room, I was proud that I was able to make enough money just through teaching private classes, I had the social and night life beyond my wildest dreams, and I was doing it all in a city overflowing with art and culture. I was thriving.

However, I could no longer extend my student visa, so I needed to find something else that would allow me to continue living legally in Spain.

So, I found something.

Via the recommendation of friends, I applied, interviewed, and was accepted as a language assistant through the Meddeas program. In the summer of 2017, I went home to California, visited family and friends, and got my new student visa processings done.

August 2017 initiated a new school year and a new chapter in my journey: teaching English to Spanish primary and secondary students while studying an online TEFL course at the Universitat Internacional de Catalunya.

In hindsight, this is where my journey began to stray from my center.

Teaching English had never been a professional dream of mine. It was something I could do, and I absolutely found joy in it; however, the fact that I was thrown into a job with just one real day of training and all of a sudden expected to lesson plan for 11 different classes caused me immense stress in the beginning. Over time it got easier, but there was always a part of me that knew if I could choose, I would be doing something different.

But, I did it.

Why?

Because it allowed me to continue living in Barcelona, a place that now felt like home. It allowed me to continue learning Spanish, which sparked so much fire and fascination in me. It allowed me to continue the flourishing relationships with my sweet partner and the community of friends and family I cherished so deeply.

So, I kept doing it.

After two years of working and studying through Meddeas, I had maxed out the amount of time I could be in the program. The question returned: How could I continue to legally live in Spain?

The answer: Domestic Partnership.

We lawyered up.

David and I were able to apply under the condition that we had been registered as living in the same household for over a year. Some hundreds and thousands of Euros later, I was granted 5 years of residency in Spain that included the right to work. Hallelujah. The end of long days trekking across the province to different official buildings, waiting decades for my little number to appear on a screen, indicating it was finally my turn even though my appointment time had long passed, and praying that the person who attended me would give me their stamp and signature that meant I could advance to the next round of the Red Tape Tango.

Even Jesus could not be saved from the messy misery that is the bureaucratic processes in Spain.

So, it would seem like having my residency settled would open the doors for me to explore more satisfying occupations, buuut it was not that easy.

I was in a foreign country. The primary language of instruction in public schools was Catalan. Even though I worked so hard to learn Spanish, I would still need to learn another language if I wanted to apply to any public school position.

Then, there was the issue of educational qualifications. Europe in general is quite strict with demanding you have the right papers for the right job, and even more so in Catalonia. In the Catalan province, you must have a masters degree to work with high schoolers, the age group that I really did love teaching English. However, getting a masters for a job that still did not ignite every inch of my soul was not something I was ready to sign up for. Plus, it was possible my US bachelor’s degree may not even qualify, and there was no way I was going to do another bachelor’s degree just for that.

At that moment, my two post grad goals had been accomplished: to live in a Spanish speaking country and learn Spanish, which felt great, but I did not have a plan for after that. I began to feel lost.

At the same time as I was going through a professional life crisis, my personal life situation was also undergoing a difficult transition. It was the summer of 2019. David and I were looking to move out of our shared apartment into our own place for the first time.

From the outside, everything seemed glittery and exciting. We had found a beautiful apartment in Gràcia mere footsteps away from our friends, I got my residency, and my unemployed status was not a huge financial stress thanks to David working in tech.

However, my live-in support system, aka my roommates, had been taken away. Moving in with my partner meant it was just us two. When there was any conflict, it no longer dissipated when one of our roomies came home. Our fights were affecting me more, being unemployed sucked, and felt like I had nobody to reach out to since everyone was working or vacationing. Many days, the summer sun was shining bright outside, but inside I felt darkness. For the first time in my life, I fell into a depression. These deep, ugly emotions inside me were new and I did not know how to deal with them. Instead of opening up about how I felt, I tried to keep my emotions hidden in the hopes that I could bounce back on my own without causing others to see this unhappy side of the usually bubbly, carefree Beth.

In the month of July, I found a gig as a camp counselor at an English language summer camp. The hours were long, it was physically and emotionally demanding, and the compensation was minimal. Working at a summer camp did have some fun perks, but overall it felt like I was resorting to a job that was great when I was 15, but not so much when I was 25. It did not feel like progress, so it did not help my mental health.

Once that finished, I began teaching English online to kids in China in the mornings through a US based company called VIP Kid. In the evenings, I got a part-time job teaching English to kids and adults at a language academy in the city.

More English teaching.

Still, not really my passion.

But, I did it.

Why?

I could not find any better options. I knew I did not want to teach English for the rest of my life, but the other jobs I was interested in, like in the special education/psychology field, I could not pursue due to language or bureaucratic barriers. I decided to accept my current job situation, knowing that it was temporary, and continue to look for other positions in the meantime.

But it was not easy. On top of this, my work schedule was now opposite to David’s. His 9-5 job meant that when he came home, I was at my second job. Limited time together further heightened my feelings of aloneness and caused stress for us both. We hardly saw each other during the week, and when we did, we were not at our best selves. This continued for some time, until finally, I couldn’t do it anymore. I told David I wanted to break up in March 2020, shortly after my 26th birthday. Yet, it did not end then. It surprised David to know I was that unhappy, as I had been hiding most of my dark emotions in order to convince myself and others that I was okay. We decided we would start having more honest communication and work on our relationship, as we both hoped it could be saved.

Then, the timing of what happened next still makes me chuckle. The Universe heard us asking for more time together, and gave us…

Covid 19.

Yep, Barcelona’s lockdown happened literally days after we almost broke up.

Actually, it couldn’t have come at a better time.

We finally had time to be able to talk, connect, and make the best out of being confined 24/7 together.

Since the language academy closed, it was easy to convert my online teaching gig to be my primary job, as my Chinese students were all at home too. I taught classes for about four hours a day and spent the rest… however I could. While David continued working, I would usually go up to our building’s rooftop. There, I began to rediscover some of my creative passions I had forgotten about. I bought a drawing pad, wrote poetry, and did lots of journaling.

After a long year locked down with plenty of time to reflect, I came to the difficult conclusion that it was time to end our 6 year relationship. Almost exactly a year later, I turned 27 in February 2021, and made the move.

Something I want to pause and touch on here are my thoughts on ending relationships. Later, when sharing the news to my friends and family, it became apparent that some people feel the need to see ugliness before a breakup. I got a lot of reactions like "What, really? But you seemed so happy!" Yes, we were. But that is not a good enough reason to stay with someone. Personally, I feel like it shows how much I cared about David to never let us get to a point where we were outwardly unhappy. I recognized that my feelings had changed, and rather than repress them to the point where I might start to take it out on him, I made the responsible choice to end things amicably. Movies and pop culture dramatize breakups and show things like throwing their partner's belongings out the window, saying nasty things while screaming at each other, cheating out of spite, and the list goes on. It is sad that we don't have examples of two people who sit down together, have a meaningful conversation, and wish each other the best. Communication is an art that gets easier with practice. We should have as many role models and teachers as possible to help guide us towards the most loving way of relating.

Conscious communication practices are on the uprise, so if learning these essential life skills sounds interesting to you, feel free to contact me and I can help connect you to resources like Instagram accounts to follow, courses to take, etc.

And, unpause.

It was Lunar New Year and from the moment I woke up, I felt like electricity was surging through my body, my heart beat accelerated. It was my body telling me: now or never. I met with my best friend Pat who I made privy to my resolution, and together we developed a plan.

A day later, I sat down with David and had the Talk. I did my best to explain my decision in the most caring way, so for that, I came prepared with a notebook in case the words escaped me in the moment. I knew these were going to be the scenes that would replay in our minds and I wanted to foster the best possible conversations. It absolutely broke my heart but as I spoke my truth, my body felt lighter. We agreed that there would be no contact, to allow both of us to heal. As I did the "hurting", I would not be the one to initiate contact. If the day comes that David would like to speak to me, he could reach out. We did get together a second time a few days later to have another conversation where questions were asked and answered. At the end, we said a more official goodbye that ended in one of the world's saddest hugs. I let him know that I hope we can one day be friends, and I am still hopeful for that. It has been almost two years and we have not exchanged a word. I celebrate how well we have honored the boundaries we set and wish him the absolute best.

Six beautiful years of support, adventure, silliness, passion, growth, and love came to an end. Well, the love will always remain, just in a different container.

Before diving into all the logistics that come after a breakup, Pat invited me to stay the weekend with her family in her hometown. We went on a hike to the top of the Burriac Castle, where I really cried for the first time after the break up. Feeling safe and nurtured in her family's hands, I was able to journal my heart out, have an attentive ear to help me try to figure out what to do next, order pizza, and cry some more. I am forever grateful for all the help and love Pat gave me during my time of need. She is a true loyal Leo protector queen and I love and miss her dearly.

Then, it was back to reality.

I moved all my stuff out of our shared apartment and was temporarily crashing at a friend’s place while she was out of town. I hadn’t really thought about what came next, but it was obvious I needed a new place to live.

I went to see a room that seemed to check all the boxes: good lighting and internet for my online classes, in the same neighborhood so I’d still have all my friends and shops I was loyal to around me, but it was then when I realized - how can I start a new chapter of my life in the same city with the same job and the same limitations?

I cannot.

So, I didn’t.

I decided it was time to move back home.

In the span of two weeks, I packed up my five years of life into three boxes, two backpacks, one suitcase, and one duffel bag. The process of donating, gifting, and purging my material belongings was therapeutic. The process of saying goodbye to my community of friends that had become my family was heartbreaking.

Is heartbreaking.

But I had to do it.

Like a phoenix, I had to set fire to everything familiar so I could be reborn from the ashes. Just like that, I said adéu, t'estimo to the five year Barcelona chapter of my life.

Chapter 2: The Bird Returns to the Nest

On the flight to California, I realized I was not moving back home. Barcelona was my home. It had been four years since I had stepped foot on the West Coast, and I had no idea what I was going to do (as per usual).

March 1st, 2021. My first full day in Ventura, California in years. It was more clear than ever that I was basically a foreign person in my hometown, and I did not feel like I fit in. Immediately, I threw myself into researching any and all opportunities to leave the US. I applied to teach English in Korea and was rejected - maybe because of my tattoos? Oh well, it wasn’t meant to be. Next, I applied for an English Teaching position in Costa Rica through the Peace Corps, thinking I could fulfill that post-graduation idea I had so many years ago. I got an interview and then after was politely explained that all of the programs are on pause due to Miss Rona and they would let me know once they reopened. Tampoco ain’t gonna do it. After that, I began throwing my resume at any and all English teaching positions at international schools in the Middle East, Southeast Asia, you name it… but nothing stuck.

Soon, I came to terms with that my intention to touch down in Ventura just to jet off again was not realistic. Covid meant that many borders were closed and programs on pause. So, when a recruiter contacted me on Linkedin for a job as a Support Counselor with Aspiranet, my eyes opened wide with interest at the job description. Behavioral coaching for youth clients in Ventura County? Required a bachelor’s degree in social work/psychology/child development? Increased pay for bilingual candidates? Experience working with high risk youth or special education preferred? The description seemed to be tailored for me. I felt the flame of inspiration ignite, so I applied and was offered the job. I absolutely loved it. Finally, I was back to doing something I was passionate about, and the experience I gained was just as rewarding as the difference I was making in my client’s lives.

Still, my goal to move abroad was clear, and I continued to search for ways to do so. I applied to volunteer as an English Director through a program in Brazil that also practiced eco-friendly living, organic farming, and environment conservation. Even though it was teaching English, I saw this as a beautiful way to also have the opportunity to learn about the other projects going on at the center that fascinated me. After an interview, I was offered the position!

…and got a DUI.

Just when I thought I finally found a plan that felt right, life smacked me in the face and said “think again”. My dreams were shattered.

Here is where I should maybe add a little context and do that adult thing called “take responsibility”. After so many years in a relationship, I was granting myself permission to be wild and free on the weekends. However, as a Scorpio Moon, Jupiter, and Pluto, I crave intensity and become obsessive in my search for taboo adventures. That manifested in a way where I was pushing boundaries of what was safe to their limit, too often. The Universe gave me plenty of opportunities to learn my lesson the easy way, granting me safe passage during many other instances where I drove under the influence. But, I did not listen, and continued on with my reckless behavior until finally I was forced to learn the hard way.

And it sucked.

Not only did I have to spend all the money I had saved on legal fees and fines, but I now had three months of programs I had to attend. My job as a Support Counselor was half spent driving around Ventura County visiting my clients, so I quickly decided that would not be worth the extra insurance and IDD device I’d need to install just to keep the job.

So now what?

Back to the drawing board.

Sigh.

After shedding many tears, therapy sessions, conversations with family and friends, and deep suffering, it hit me: A remote job. It would be the perfect compromise. Instead of quitting my job and using my savings to volunteer and travel, I would get a remote job so I could still travel and have the means to do so. Frantically, I began applying for anything and everything remote. Thanks to a family friend, I was referred and accepted as a Client Coordinator with Cerebral, an online mental health startup company. Well, weeks before beginning training, Cerebral said they no longer needed Client Coordinators (small heart attack) but if I was interested in being a Phone Coordinator, there was still a job for me. Uh, okay, as long as it was remote, I was willing to do pretty much anything. I accepted without much hesitation, though the idea of answering phones instead of emails did not thrill me.

It would be my first customer service job, and as it was still related to my field of interest, I figured there would be value to seeing the business/insurance/billing side. As soon as I finished training, I packed up my life, again, and purchased a one-way ticket to Mexico City. Since I had visited the city before and already had friends there, it felt like somewhere I could start rebuilding the sense of community that I so yearned while also fulfilling my international desire.

So, I did it.

I will never forget the surge of emotions that overcame me the moment the plane lifted off the runway at LAX. The tears came pouring out before I even realized I was crying. Freedom. Independence. Finally, after a year of living at home, I felt like I was back in life’s driver’s seat.

Chapter 3: The Bird Gets Her Wings Back

At 4:39 am on April 3rd, 2022, two days after moving into an apartment in Juárez, Mexico City, I wrote this:

“I’m having so much fun being alive-

—and living and being here that I don’t want to go to sleep. I don’t even want to close my eyes.

I’m too happy.

There’s too much I want to absorb.

Everything feels electric. I feel literally charged and hypervolted with energy.

This. Is. My. Fucking PLACE!!!

Note to self: never again accept less than this. Or if you do, know it is temporary and I will always find a way back.”

Now 28 years old, the feeling of power I felt when I left Barcelona had finally returned. I could learn Mexican Spanish. I could walk to the market to buy my groceries. I could even do my court ordered programs, as they were through Zoom. But, most importantly, I could surround myself with people and experiences that would help guide me on my path.

Almost immediately, I became immersed in Mexico City’s spiritual community. After meeting lots of beautiful souls at an event hosted by the Open/Sex-Positive Community, I began running into the same people at other events, in the streets, at friend’s houses, etc. Also, there is a Whatsapp group for pretty much any interest you may have. For my US readers who may be unfamiliar with Whatsapp, the first thing you should know is that we are pretty much the only country who doesn't use it. Adding that to the list of things we do differently. All it is is a messaging app, but the big advantages of using that over iMessage or texting is that it just uses Internet. That being said, there is no polarizing "blue or green" texts to mess up a group chat, making it much more conducive to creating large group chats for as many as 1,000 users.

Just like that, Mexico City felt like home. My job became pretty easy once I got the hang of it, and because I worked smarter and not harder, I was able to enjoy life pretty much exactly how I wanted to. I was living my best life.

One night, while hanging out with my dear friend Bailey at her apartment, she remarked "Didn't you want to do a peyote ceremony? They're posting about one on the Hermanas Hermosas group". Hermanas Hermosas is a global feminine movement that has a Whatsapp group for pretty much every major city around the world and many others for smaller towns but with a spiritual community present. Some get so big that they have to separate into smaller topics as to not spam everyone in Mexico City with apartment ads if they aren't looking for an apartment. In this case, there was a post in the Hermanas Wellness group sharing that sure enough, a peyote ceremony was being led by two women up north in the very desert to which the plant is native.

I sprang into action, as it was Wednesday, and the trip left that very Friday morning. Thanks to the help of my friends, I was able to collect the necessary supplies for a night out in the desert under the stars, called in sick to work that Friday, and I was off to experience the healing powers of hikuri.

It would be wonderful to tell you that I had a powerful, life transformational experience sitting with this medicine; however, that Thursday before the ceremony, I got some awful stomach bug. That day, I could not keep down even water, and I toyed heavily with the idea of cancelling the trip. However, there was no way I was going to miss what I felt was an opportunity that did not come many times, so I came armed with anti-stomach-explodey pills and somehow got myself to the meeting point that Friday morning.

With the group, we went out into the desert with flashlights to find and harvest our cacti medicine. Then, we set up around a fire, prepared the plants, made a delicious tea full of medicinal herbs and more cacti, and prepared the ceremony. My intention was to ask for guidance on what is my purpose. After consuming the recommended dose, about half an hour, I had an euphoric beginning to the trip. Then, I felt called to lay down in my sleeping bag, so I listened to my body and got comfortable. I fell asleep for the majority of the night. Upon waking up, I was initially quite mad - I came all the way out to the desert and I didn't get to talk to the blue stag spirit of peyote? However, I do believe the message was that I needed to give myself time to rest. Living in a city as active and exciting as CDMX meant that most of my free time was spent out of the house, and that was probably not the way I would find clarity. Also, I learned the importance of not having any expectations.

Three months into Mexico City living, Australia announced they were finally re-opening their borders. To my family and I, that meant we could finally get the chance to visit my brother Jesse and sister-in-love Kiki (because “sister-in-law” just doesn’t fit) who had been living on the strictly locked down island since Covid began. This meant I could either keep paying rent while I was away in order to keep my apartment, or… an idea sprouted.

Instead of coming back to Mexico City, I could move out of my apartment, and start to travel Mexico when I got back. The city was feeling comfortable, which was lovely, but also a sign that it’s time to move on. I had developed a support network that gave me the confidence I needed to spread my wings.

It was decided. When I returned to Mexico from Australia in August, I flew back to CDMX for a short visit, then began my solo exploration of the country.

Chapter 4: The Bird Migrates Farther South

Now that I had nourished the soil and grown new roots, I was craving expansion towards the sun. The previous months’ themes were reestablishing confidence in myself, completing DUI obligations, and building up my savings again. Here is the part of my journey where I feel like my real growth starts.

After months of hearing stories and recommendations, I decided I would start my nomadic chapter in the state of Oaxaca. First stop was Puerto Escondido, known as one of the best surf spots in the world and for its hippy party vibes. As I do not surf nor was in a partying mode, I did not fall head over heels for the town. The main areas were mostly filled with other international folk, which was a con for me, as I wanted to leave the bubble of Mexico City to get to know a more authentic side of Mexico.

As soon as I arrived in Puerto, I felt stressed to find friends. Company. Community. I knew a handful of people from CDMX who happened to be there at the same time, connected with some friends of friends, and met people on my own. Despite this, my social life was the area where I felt the most resistance. I was expecting the luck and speed I found people in Mexico City to be the same there. Well, that was not the case. And this frustrated me. Which forced me to take a step back and reflect - why did this cause me frustration? Was I putting too much value on spending time with others instead of just enjoying life?

…Ope.

Yep.

Out of discomfort came a lesson: I should be acting as my #1 source of company and entertainment. And, quality over quantity. This is a lesson I had begun to learn already when I moved back to Ventura, my mainly friend-less hometown; however, this time, it resonated on an even smaller scale: if I have to choose between doing something with an acquaintance vs. doing it alone, I would much rather be alone.

One night under an almost full moon, I decided I would lead my own healing ceremony instead of going out. I brought my crystals, candles, journal, and rapé upstairs to the rooftop of the house I was staying in, feeling quite proud of my fully equipped witchy starter pack. For those who don’t know, rapé (pronounced RAH-pay) is a type of plant medicine made mainly of tobacco. Usually, a pea sized amount of the powdered plant is blown into your nose through a pipe, either by yourself or another person. The first time I did a rapé ceremony was with my brother in Australia, who administered it to me. This would be just my second time using this plant medicine, and the first time from the nasal spray bottle Jesse and Kiki gifted to me.

Prepared with Kleenex and a trash can in case of possible purging, I shot a spray of medicinal tobacco into each of my nostrils and relaxed back into a hammock. The sensation started by feeling like the lights inside my brain suddenly surged on, and then a tingly wave washed down from the top of my body all the way down to my toes. It was very similar to the feeling of adrenaline, except more powerful and also quite dizzying. The mango I ate earlier was all of a sudden no longer welcome in my stomach.

About five to ten minutes passed where I felt nausea and ecstasy at the same time. The urge to yell and clear my throat arose, and I realized I should be using my Voice more, as what I have to say has value. Then, in this state of clarity and heightened awareness, an idea zapped into my mind - weekend retreats for girls. All around me there are retreats offered for adults focused on various spiritual offerings, but why not kids, too?

Whoa.

That was something to think about.

I took out my journal and began agreeing with all those Instagram posts that talk about how the greatest growth is done in solitude

I resolved to do this more often.

So, I gave gratitude to Puerto Escondido for its technicolor sunsets, dreamy beaches, and the ability to party barefoot or in Crocs and flew back to CDMX. There I met one of my best friends from Barcelona who was in Mexico traveling with his partner.

After keeping it relatively chill in terms of partying in Puerto, I was excited to let go in the city. Unfortunately, on our first night out, my phone and wallet were stolen out of my fanny pack.

Aaaarrggg!

WhHyyy, again, when I felt like I was in such a sweet groove, did I have to be punished?

I guess I had mOrE lEsSoNs iN rEsPoNsIbiLItY tO lEaRn, said with my hands on my hips, my mouth pursed, and my eyes glaring.

As any mature adult would.

Fortunately, my community jumped in right away to support me, with a temporary phone to borrow and money to lend. My mom and I worked relentlessly in attempts to get a new phone sent to me from the US before my flight back to Oaxaca, but Mexican customs said “jaja, na”.

So, off I went, back to the coast of Oaxaca, with my iPhone sequestered in CDMX customs, and a Kodak brand phone as my new travel buddy. My next destination: Mazunte, a town a little over an hour south of Puerto Escondido that boasts the title of being one of Mexico’s 132 “Pueblos Mágicos”. It became obvious very quickly that the town was indeed a magical one.

Chapter 5: The Bird Questions Her Reality

Even though I was in Mazunte for just two weeks, it felt like two decades. Some of the beaches there have black sand, due to underwater volcanic eruptions reaching the shore. This meant the sand was literally magnetic, an effect I felt made time pass slower and in a more relaxed way there than anywhere I’d ever traveled to. The town was the perfect size for me: there was one main road, unpaved, that led to the beach with some side streets, little shops, and cafes with palapa style roofs made of palm leaves. A mix of national and international humans exchanged real eye contact and smiles when passing each other on the street. There was a lot to smile about when living in a hippie paradise surrounded by lush, tropical foliage like coconut and banana trees.

In the midst of all this abundance is where the concept of “The Matrix” really entered my consciousness, thanks to conversations with many of the town's eclectic souls. Bear with me as I take a break from the narration of events to share the journey of how Mazunte really brought the red pill / blue pill metaphor to light.

Take my job as an example: Monday - Friday from 11am to 8pm, with the exception of an hour lunch break, I am expected to be in front of a laptop, aka plugged into The Matrix. The rest of the world basically ceases to exist as I listen to the concerns of people on the other line, pressing buttons that cause prescribers to order prescriptions, pharmacists to dispense medication, therapists to attend patients, banks to deposit refunds, etc etc. In this way, if you look at my job with a wide angle lens, I am altering the reality of people thousands of miles away with the sound of my voice and the touch of my fingers against the keyboard. Why? Multiple reasons. Mainly, because it’s my job, so I have been told that if I do so, I will get paid.

To counter, there is more motivation than just money for me in my role. I believe that we deliver services that really are helping people, and I also know that I spread as much love and light into every interaction possible. So, I hold onto the knowledge that I am planting seeds of positivity in the vulnerable hearts of humans seeking mental health services as another reason, apart from money, that I do my job.

Alright, then, now the big question - would I still do this job if I wasn’t paid?

Honestly, no. Or at least for a lot less hours a day.

Aha.

So, what would I like to do? What skills do I possess that I could offer the world if the Matrix ceased to exist?

Feel free to take a break here and join me in one of my daily existential crises.

In that magical town where nobody seems to know what day or time it is, I toyed heavily with the idea of indefinitely powering off my work laptop and surrendering fully to the fate of the Universe. I could teach English at the school there, or online, or something.

But that’s the problem.

I still didn’t have a goal or idea to motivate me enough to take a risk that big.

So, I didn’t take the red pill.

I did not feel ready.

My Kodak Moment, as I referred to my phone, greatly limited my ability to communicate and stay connected to loved ones. My iPhone was still collecting dust in Mexico City’s customs and I wanted my high tech cyborg brain back. Also, I had more travel plans ahead of me that required money, so a steady paycheck and an ever-increasing savings account would help me reach those dreams with ease. So, I continued with my blue pill work routine, choosing comfort over freedom from the Man.

But, with knowledge comes power. Mazunte changed me. I set a goal: Develop skills that would allow me more freedom in how I make a living. Rather than invest time in a company so it could make money, I wanted to invest time in me so I could support myself on my own. For one, I would need a new laptop, as we all know technology is a useful tool for learning and making connections. With that in mind, I decided it would be the easiest and cheapest to work on attaining technological autonomy back home in California. With Thanksgiving on the horizon, I decided that would be a perfect time to go home and be surrounded by sweet, familial love as well as take advantage of the benefits of capitalism.

With some tangible goals set in place, the storm in my mind began to settle down. A compass and a map helps greatly in navigating the ever changing winds of life. However, the journey ahead still lacked clarity. I knew what tools I would search for while at my next port; however, there was still the unanswered question my whole crew was waiting on: Where are we going next?

Chapter 6: The Bird Continues Her Search

My course veered north towards the mountains, with a big chunk of my heart left behind in Mazunte. For the next two weeks, I explored the high elevation towns of San Jose del Pacifico and San Mateo del Rio Hondo. To me, San Jose’s nickname should be “Mushroom Disneyland'' due to the fact that the majority of travelers who go there are seeking to experience psychedelic mushrooms. The knowledge of this practice was originally brought to the town by María Sabina, the famous chamanic healer. With a view of endless mountain ridges, I sat in my room with the sacred medicine and asked for clarity as to what is my life’s purpose, but unfortunately did not get the answers I had hoped for. I did, however, eat some of the best mushroom soup and quesadillas ever, and marveled at the way the clouds gracefully changed form over the endless mountain peaks.

I wished I could change as gracefully as those clouds.

In San Mateo del Rio Hondo, I got to experience a non-touristy mountain town, just 30 minutes away from Mushroom Disneyland. The scenery was also stunning, and I could enjoy them from a cozy cabin that was half the price of what I paid in San Jose and double the amount of space. Also, for the first time in weeks, I could cook in my living space, as where I stayed in Mazunte and San Jose had no kitchens. I enjoyed playing house in my little cabin, buying freshly cooked beans and tortillas from a woman that sold them from her kitchen down the street, and worked outside on my balcony with a view.

Next up on the tour of Oaxaca state was Oaxaca de Juárez, aka Oaxaca city. My first question was: have you ever seen the word “Oaxaca” used 3 times in one sentence? Hehehe ok only joking. My first impression was that it was jarring coming to a city after being held so gently in small towns surrounded by nature. But, reliable Wifi and finally getting my iPhone back were welcome pros.

My intentions going into that leg of the trip were to consume so much mole that it would become my blood type as well as experience all the Día de los Muertos magic possible. It was time to have a break from my intense self reflection and relax a bit.

There was one other city resource I was eager to take advantage of - health clinics. I had decided I wanted to get my IUD removed, for a number of reasons. Since the age of 17, I had been on some form of hormonal birth control. Now, at 28, I was getting the feeling that maybe I wasn't able to find clarity due to being less connected to my body's natural rhythms. I had been learning about how a women's wisdom comes from our womb and I wanted to get in touch with mine. Initially, the lack of having a period excited me when I got my IUD inserted in March 2021 (when I moved back to the US); however, I actually missed my monthly reminder of my feminine power. Being around so many spiritual women who cherished and ritualized their moon cycle also animated my interest to do the same.

Another reason was that when talking to women my age and older, they shared with wild glints in their eyes about feeling their sex drives begin to increase. This is usually the case as we get into our 30's, but I was just not feeling it. I wanted that wild glint, too. And finally, in the simplest of ways, I was excited to return to a body that was 100% natural, for the sake of my own physical health.

In the first week of my stay in Oaxaca, I was connected with a goddess named Marluy I met through the Hermanas Hermosas Oaxaca Whatsapp group when asking for a hairdresser recommendation. During my haircut, I shared my thoughts with her about my IUD, she supported my idea to get it removed, and discussed her own journey. It was the final motivation I needed to schedule an appointment. The very next day, she accompanied me to a clinic where I bid farewell to my Mirena. She held my hand and brought me lentils and a mix of feminine herbs to make tea in case of cramps. What a blessing it was to be supported by a sister in my time of need.

To allow myself time to reconnect with my body, I decided to combine the removal of my IUD with the start of intentional celibacy. This would be quite the new journey for me, as I love casual physical connections, but I was interested in experimenting in something different. Again influenced by other women around me and a podcast episode, the idea of saving my intimacy for myself and only the highest level connection was empowering.

Later on in the month, I was grateful to reunite with my good friend Bailey, who had also decided to leave Mexico City to check out Oaxaca's famous Muertos celebrations. We agreed that Oaxaca’s food reputation lived up to the hype as we explored the wide array of restaurants together. Additionally, the nearby towns are full of natural and cultural allure, and I had a blast exploring it all.

Yet, despite trying to give myself a break, the feelings of frustration and being stuck remained. I was filled with the feeling that I wanted to move forward, like a constant push, but I was unsure of where to direct that energy.

On one of those days when I was feeling extra discouraged, I decided I had to do something to give myself a feeling of hope.

I opened up an application for a working holiday visa in Australia.

That’s how everyone solves their problems, right? Find a new country and make plans to go there? No? Hmm, can’t relate (hehehe).

Anyway, I was granted the visa two days after I sent in the application. This brought me immediate, immense relief, like I had finally found a trail marker after wandering aimlessly for weeks - “This Way: Australia”. A clear option I could use to get myself out of the rut I was in.

Getting the visa was not as entirely spontaneous as it may sound. Ever since learning about the working holiday visa in high school, I knew it was something I wanted to take advantage of before I turned 30, which was approaching. The plan became: explore the remaining regions of Mexico left on my list while continuing to work for Cerebral, then jet off across the globe to a country where the work conditions and pay seemed to be a much healthier balance than my current situation.

In the Land Down Unda, you can actually make a decent salary from just a part time job, a concept completely alien to your average United Statesarian. With more free time, I could take courses, have hobbies, and overall have more than just the weekend to explore my interests. That sounded like a great environment to continue my self discovery mission.

Hilariously enough, that very week, I received an email from the Peace Corps inviting me to serve in the Dominican Republic as a Spanish Secondary School Teacher. Remember back when I moved home from Barcelona, I had applied and interviewed? They stayed in touch by email, asking me once every couple of moons to see that if I wasn’t invited to serve in X country, would I be open to serve in Y, Z, etc country? Always wanting to keep my options open, I would reply “yes, I’ll go anywhere Spanish speaking”. After months of playing this game, it made me want to pull my hair out that I had finally achieved a goal that I worked towards, but at such the wrong time. They gave me just a weekend to make my decision, so even though I felt honored to have been offered this opportunity, it did not spark joy. I checked the “decline invitation” box, sent a thank you email, and moved on. Aaarggg.

On October 28, 2023, the kickoff event of the Día de los Muertos celebration was a free concert in the Plaza de la Danza. During a parade, I linked up with a big group of travelers from a Whatsapp group, and we excitedly walked alongside masked and painted people so gorgeously done up and making all of my Coco movie dreams come to life. Upon arrival at the plaza, we walked through the crowd to find a spot to watch the concert. I reached into my bag to take out my phone, and to my absolute rage, found it had been stolen.

Again.

Not even a month after I got it back from Mexican customs. Someone had cut a slit into the side of my fabric tote bag and taken it out without me feeling a thing.

Now a pro in getting my phone stolen, a kind friend I had made in the city and I went to the police station two days in a row, as I was determined to do everything possible to try to retrieve my expensive rectangular block. They took us to the location as shown on the Find My iPhone app, talked to the neighbors, but were unable to retrieve it. Not much of a surprise, but I had to try. At least this time I knew I would be home soon where I could use insurance to get a replacement. However, it drove me up the wall that the same thing had happened again so soon. Plus I found out I still had to pay a deductible for the insurance, causing me to have to dip into my Australia savings fund.

When are phones going to just be installed into our eyeballs? That should be thief-proof… right?

Anyway, I gave my best wishes that whoever took it was able to provide for themselves and/or family because of it, and that they may one day find a path that brings them self-sustaining financial wealth. The money I lost would come back to me ten fold.

Time to move on.

As I boarded the bus from Oaxaca city to Mexico City, the end of my Tour of Oaxaca State Life Chapter materialized before my eyes. Present turned into the past tense. My eyes welled with emotion and my heart felt so many feelings: amazement, sadness, pride… and gratitude. So much gratitude. August in Puerto Escondido and Mexico City, September in Mazunte and the Sierra Sur mountains, and October in Oaxaca de Juárez. What I was craving more than anything at that moment was family and community. Empowering as it is to depend fully on myself, life is all about balance, and I was ready to go home and let someone else take care of me.

Chapter 7: The Bird is Ready for Some Serious Nest Time

Before flying back to California, I spent a week in Mexico City reconnecting with my community. The process of reflecting upon my months of adventures and growth began as I caught up with beloved friends. Then, it was off to LAX to make it home in time for Thanksgiving. The Beth who was home in July vs the Beth who came home in November felt more centered, more confident, and closer to finding clarity… but still, not quite there.

Patience. I was doing my best to be patient with myself.

Meanwhile, I accepted all of the love and help of my incredible family.

It is a glorious gift to be able to have a safe and nurturing nest to be able to lay down my tired wings.

At home, I called on more than just my family to help guide me to clarity - I also reached out to a professional. Back in Mazunte, my cabin buddy had introduced me to the podcast As Above, So Below, hosted by Cato, a professional astrologer and business coach. I had been wanting to get a reading done for so long but hadn’t found the right person or moment. Once I finished listening to every podcast episode, I knew she was it. I booked the session for the day before Thanksgiving.

To nobody’s surprise, my biggest hope for the reading was to gain insight as to what I should do with my life. As Cato specializes in Evolutionary Astrology, that is one of the main offerings of this way of interpreting charts: to discover what is my soul’s blueprint and life purpose.

If I had to describe the session in three words, they would be Unlock, Recharge, and Inspire.

Hearing her describe my planets, houses, and transits affirmed ideas I had been toying around with as well as lit up new neural pathways. It was like the dark sky was suddenly filled with bright stars, all within touchable distance. Like the cosmos, they were there all along, I was just given the guidance to look up and identify them. After she articulated so many of my innate talents and interests, I felt like I had all the ingredients laid out in front of me. The only question remaining was: what recipe would I choose? (Yes I used two metaphors in one paragraph and yes I’m keeping them both. I’m an Aquarius sun and will rebel against all rules, and a stubborn Taurus rising who will find any excuse to talk about food. Hehehe)

Days after the reading, Cato reached out to me to let me know she was having a Black Friday sale on her upcoming Astrology Course offering. With hardly a second thought, I signed up. It felt perfectly in line with my goal to invest in myself and my passions, one of them having always been astrology. Since it was presented to me so easily in my path, my gut said go for it. TIme to start breaking patterns and doing something new! Excitement fluttered in my heart and fresh doors of opportunity began constructing themselves in my brain.

Other housekeeping items I got done at home was pressing the Reset button on my material belongings to reprogram for a new chapter. I had been lugging around a 50 pound suitcase, duffel bag, and backpack throughout Oaxaca and I was so ready to downsize. It was all too clear that I had been holding on to too much, making it difficult to move - physically, and metaphorically. This time, I mindfully stocked my backpacking backpack with clothes for both hot and cold weather, made the painful decision to leave behind my nail polish collection, and added my newly acquired travel yoga mat and iPad to the set up. Instead of carrying around my markers, colored pencils, crayons, drawing pad, and books, I decided that an iPad would fulfill my artistic desires when they arrived, act as a reader for any book I may want, and be a replacement for my work laptop when the time came to quit my job. The cherries on top were a Swiss army knife keychain and a headlamp, gifted to me by my dad. Never underestimate the value of either of those tools.

After two weeks at home, it was back to LAX . There is a special type of confidence inspired by the feeling of being prepared for anything with just the gear carried on your back. I decided to begin this leg of Mexico travels in a new way: previously, I had booked in advance all the places I stayed in. However, this time, I decided to try something different - stay in a hostel for the weekend and look for a place once I got there.

Why? (a question especially asked by my plan-loving parents)

I wanted to try trusting the Universe.

To do something different to then trigger new outcomes. I was trying to get unstuck, and that would not happen by doing things the same way.

Plus, seeing places in person is way different than online. An added bonus.

After taking the first day to get a lay of the land, do a free walking tour, and get added to a Whatsapp group for housing, my second day in San Cristóbal de las Casas had a clear goal: find a place to rent by the end of the day. That Sunday turned into a real life International House Hunters episode and I had a blast. I visited three apartments, made a little visual of their pros and cons, but in the end, I relied most on my intuition to guide me to make a decision.

Of the three, there was one that stood out. It was a suite style apartment in a compound with a garden and sixteen total units, the majority occupied by young, international humans. As an added bonus, across the street was a community center that hosted donation based dinners every Friday, organized in part by some of the neighbors in my apartment building.

Community.

It came with a built-in community.

Now, wouldn’t that be a wonderful thing to be able to filter for in an apartment searching app?

Happy as a clam, I unpacked my things and began the nesting process. San Cristóbal de las Casas, or San Cris for short, is a Pueblo Mágico in the state of Chiapas, nestled 2,200 m (7,200 ft) up in the mountains. Just like my previous travels, trusted sources had recommended this town for reasons such as its abundant nature, indigenous cultural presence, and spiritual community presence.

In San Cris, I decided that my intention was to stay put. I had realized that as much as I love exploring, it is time consuming to make reservations, figure out buses, be in transit, get settled in a new place, etc etc. Instead, I wanted to use my free time to focus on my own projects.

Do less to do more.

Crisp, sunny days and chilly nights aligned beautifully with my intentions. Cold climates naturally bring out my more hermetic qualities, perfect for the introspection and focus for which I was yearning. Yet, the same frustration bubbled up.

What is my purpose? What am I doing? Where am I going?

Again, and again, and again, these heavy hitting questions flooded my brain, and I was still drowning. Yes, I had my ideas, but I felt like I needed to start making progress and I didn't know where to begin.

I needed fresh air. A new strategy.

A lightbulb clinked on in my brain: I should write about my journey.

Like a hike in the woods, if you realize you are lost, it is not recommended to keep moving forward. Instead, you should either stay where you are, or try to backtrack. Did I feel lost in the woods? Yes. So, maybe if I took the time to map out my past, I could get an idea of where I am now.

Now, isn’t it funny how the expression “we teach best what we most need to learn” is so spot on? I am passionate about mental health and work in the field, yet, I struggle to remember to use the very coping strategies I recommend.

Welp, better late than never.

So, I got to the mission. Every morning before work, I would get out my laptop and start writing. Instead of just journaling about this for my own sake, I decided that sharing my story could help others who might be feeling the same way. As children, we read books that help us learn to share, resolve conflicts, and be a better person. Where are the stories for young adults?

Always loving a good visual aid, the idea of a bird’s journey resonated as a way to structure the long tale I set out to tell.

And here we are now.

Chapter 8: What Happened Once the Bird Finally Stayed Still

Isolating myself during the week to focus on writing and work was easier knowing that on Friday night, I had a reliable plan: walk across the street to the Casa Lab community space for the weekly dinner. This completely erased the usual New Place routine of “how will I make friends? Where should I go? What if I don’t meet anyone and then I waste my time and money?” At Casa Lab, I already knew two of my neighbors would be there. I shared the invitation in the group chat with the rest of my apartment complex as well. And, since it was so close to my home, there was no need to worry about what time I finished work, how to get there, if I would be arriving late, etc, etc. All family style, all close to home, all inclusive. No resistance in sight.

There, I began making connections with people who all chose to eat family style over any other Friday night plan. This meant that we all valued community. With that already in common, I felt more confident that the people I met there were the type of people I wanted to be spending time around.

Just like that, San Cris felt like home. My new friends invited me to movies, dinners, day trips, and even a big family style Christmas (/Hanukkah, hehe) dinner. Even though I was feeling so happy with my community there and my experiment in staying static, months ago I had taken off the first week of January to allow myself to explore Guatemala. I had doubts about going, thinking maybe I should just stay in San Cris to do more writing, connecting, etc, but my gut said no - give yourself this vacation. Chase your dreams. Go be free.

There was also another reason why I wanted to get to know Guatemala: my maternal great grandfather is Guatemalan. Carlos Eduardo Lascoutx Campo was a pilot in the Guatemalan Air Force who planted his seed during a trip to California. My great grandmother, Claudia Rateaver, was not ready for the responsibility of being a mother and put their boy up for adoption. Claud Rateaver became James Dale Macomber upon adoption. My grandfather. After he found out he was adopted, he got in contact with his biological mother Claudia, and developed a passion to trace his biological family. With my grandmother and their four kids, they spent years traveling the world to research and document our family tree. Thanks to that, we have two published books that contain cataloged data of our family roots. No need to sign up for Ancestry.com for my mom’s side of the family!

Pretty incredible, huh? I am in awe of their work and so grateful for the time they took to connect with such long reaching branches of our family tree.

Getting back to the story, before the trip, I did some research as to where I wanted to go in Guatemala and what I wanted to do. I had heard about the overnight trip to the Acatenango Volcano, where you could see the active volcano Fuego erupting at night.

Lava. Real life lava.

My inner child overflowed with delight at the prospect, as little Beth was obsessed with dinosaurs and all types of natural disasters.

Then, someone I met at an Airbnb back in CDMX had told me that Lake Atitlán, the deepest lake in Central America, was a place people flocked to for New Years. Deciding it would be nice to ring in the New Years surrounded by nature, I booked a shuttle to Panajachel, one of the twelve towns that surround the lake.

And that was the end of my plans.

I booked nothing but the transportation there and decided to leave everything absolutely open for the eleven days I had off. To continue my exploration of surrendering to the Universe, I would rely on my intuition to guide me and flow with whatever felt right.

I believe that that was the key that unlocked a trip that gave me more than I could have ever imagined.

Chapter 9: The Bird Discovers a Magic Lake

On the journey to the lake, the people I made friends with in the bus were all going to the same place: the Cosmic Convergence Festival. I had heard of the festival and knew someone from San Cris was going, but it was pretty expensive, and I did not want to commit to anything in advance. However, one of my guiding principles is to be around people I want to be like, so judging from the fact that the people I seemed to vibe with the most on the bus were going to the festival, I decided it was a sign that that is where I should go, too.

Something fascinating I learned from a person I met on the bus, Cozcacuahutli (or Cozcatl for short) from Mexico, is that at the bottom of Lake Atitlán is a submerged Mayan village. Basically a Guatemalan Atlantis. Then, let’s not forget that the lake is bordered by not one, not two, but three volcanoes. That’s a lot of fiery, spiritual energy for one lake.

Upon arrival in Panajachel, Cozcatl and I put our belongings down in a room rented to us by a friend of his. Exhausted from the 13 hour journey across Mexico and Guatemala, we ate dinner, browsed the unbelievably creative and colorful textiles for sale, then called it an early night.

The next morning, we crossed paths with three other people headed to the festival, Joey, Daniella, and Michael. They invited us to join forces and charter a ride directly to Santiago, the town where the festival was held. As we sped across the choppy waters, I got my first daytime view of Lake Atitlán.

I was taken aback.

The three volcanoes seemed to have a humble, graceful presence, kind of like big dog energy: they were aware of their grand beauty and power, but did think themselves better than anyone because of it. As my mouth gaped open, Joey shared that he had manifested some of his greatest dreams at this lake. Zaps of electricity sparked inside me and I felt the magic energy of the lake light me up. Big things were coming, I could feel it.

Exhilarated by the brisk winds of the boat ride, we arrived in Santiago hungry for the next adventure. We parted ways with the three musketeers and bumped our way in a tuk tuk across cobblestones and dirt roads to the festival entrance. Cozcatl met up with some friends of his and after setting up the tent and painting our faces, I was eager to check out this new environment on my own. While walking around, a woman announced the beginning of a self defense workshop, so I took that as my opportunity to separate myself from the group. Immersing myself in all that the festival had to offer began.

At the workshop, I connected with a woman who had been given a big tent in the artist’s camping section to stay in, as she was going to step in and play drums for a band in need. She offered to share her tent with me, which I gratefully accepted, as Cozcatl’s tent would have been a little snug for two. Once my sleeping situation was settled, I was in need of some alone time, so I found a path to the water and took out my journal.

I closed my eyes and breathed, in and out deeply.

I felt the brisk air fill my lungs and after a few moments, reopened my eyes.

Somehow, I was at a music festival on a lake with a sunken ancient town at the bottom and volcanoes all around. I felt deep gratitude for the ability to be alive in such a special place and thanked myself for all the work I did to bring me there. It was December 30th, 2022 and time to set intentions for the New Year.

When pen hit the paper, the difference between writing my intentions for 2022 and for 2023 was clear: this time, I wrote detailed, specific goals. Instead of just “work hard on passion projects”, I specified that I wanted to write in my blog at least once every three months, host one storytelling event, etc. Manifesting my dreams using the magic of the lake inspired me, and I felt the beauty surrounding me seep into my every cell.

I soaked it up like a sponge.

I became as present as possible, consciously anchoring myself in that moment so I could later come back to that feeling whenever I may desire.

Inspired by the idea of using the lake’s mystical energy to manifest my own dreams, I decided to open up about some of the concepts I had been developing and see what it felt like to share them. With surprising speed, the Universe ushered people who mirrored my state of consciousness into my path: astrologers, female program leaders, community builders. When I shared my ideas with them, I was met with encouragement, praise, and offers to stay in touch. Co-creating with people who want to do the same things as me or are already doing them was an ingredient I had overlooked, and definitely now added to the recipe.

I also found that the more vocal I became about my intentions, the more energy of support I felt. People really listened to my ideas and gave me valuable feedback. Each new perspective was like shining a new light on an idea, so that little by little, the beginning embryonic stage of my dreams began to form recognizable shapes, colors, textures, movement, smells, and sounds. Clarity. It was all coming together.

In these moments, I began to understand why people use the phrase “to birth an idea”. My long period of preparation was necessary and natural, and now I was starting to feel the first thrilling kicks of life.

After the festival, I spent three nights in San Marcos la Laguna, another town on the lake. This was the most spiritual of them all and became sort of the after-party of the festival - in the drum circle, medicine songs type of way. Just minutes after disembarking the speed boat, I was walking up "Hippie Highway" - aka the main pedestrian path of the town - and was approached by a muscular, handsome Italian man, asking "Do you need a hostel?" It was love at first sight - with San Marcos, I mean. Immediately I was welcomed into a sweet hostel with a garden, outdoor kitchen, and a two story house equipped with plenty of comfy beds.

Exhausted after my nights of camping in the cold at the festival, I dropped anchor on one of the beds and connected to Wifi for the first time in days. Some long minutes of scrolling later, I heard the door open, and my Italian host Eduardo had caught another homeless fish from the stream. The fish's name was Dario, from Costa Rica, and somehow full of energy despite the fact that he had also attended the festival. He promptly asked me if I had eaten yet, which I hadn't, and informed me we could go together once he had a shower. Ah yes, those two basic needs I needed to accomplish. Saved by this cheerful angel, I lugged myself off the bed to feel hot water on my body for the first time since arriving in Guatemala and go off in search of sustenance with my new friend.

In our hostel with no name, Dario and I soon added Klas and Amanda, a couple from Sweden who had also been at Cosmic, to our happy family. It makes me laugh that I lived in Sweden for nine months but had to go all the way to Guatemala to actually make Swedish friends. Being around these kindhearted souls was like tying the bow on the festival experience. We cooked together, explored together, shared dreams together, and laughed together - lots and lots of laughing.

I bid them a temporary goodbye, because I still had one last thing I had to do: climb the Acatenango Volcano. Through a tour company in San Marcos, I was able to arrange transportation from the lake to Antigua, where I would link up with the group I'd do the hike with. My group turned out to just be myself and a Costa Rican couple, who were pleasant but not too talkative, and we were taken by a driver to our local guide's house. There, we met Jorge and his family, who provided us with a packed lunch, water, and walking sticks (I already had a headlamp, remember? Just had to point that out. Ok, back to the story). We were then whisked off to the base of the volcano to began the steep, uphill climb. Five hours of huffing, puffing, peeling layers on and off, a stop for lunch, and countless breaks later, we arrived to base camp on the side of the volcano. It was time for a nap. When night arrived, the temperature plummeted and the wind soared, but that is when the active volcano Fuego begins to erupt. About every half an hour to hour or so, if you are watching at the right moment, the volcano explodes and you can see lava trickle down in little vein-like rivers. Bucket list item completed: see lava in real life.

Throughout the night, it was exhilarating being awakened by the boom of wind from the eruption. The air would slam into the plastic walls of our camp and we could feel the ground shake. After the boom, the clashing sound of rocks sliding down its gravely body always followed. In a way, I was reminded of sleeping next to the ocean, except instead of waves, it was lava, rocks, and smoke causing the sounds. Definitely the most extreme camping experience I've ever had. That night, the winds were too strong to be able to safely attempt the optional nocturnal hike to Fuego. It was something I would have wanted to do; however, the freezing temperatures and the state of fatigue I was in also welcomed the opportunity to sleep instead.

In the morning, we awoke to a gorgeous sunrise. It is curious how Fuego's lava becomes shy during the day, emitting only clouds of black smoke. Once we finished breakfast, we all agreed we wanted to do the final optional hike to the top of Acatenango. Reaching the top of the 13,041 ft (3,976 m) summit was one of the most difficult physical experiences I have ever paid and willingly chosen to be put through (humans are so insane), but worth it. I mean, I can't say I climbed almost all the way to the top.

If 2023 started with me sleeping next to an active volcano and climbing to the top of an even higher dormant one, what will I be able to accomplish with the rest of the year? Achieving that will be my reminder that with a clear goal, proper preparation, endurance, and determination, I will be able to make more dreams come true. The only limit is my imagination.

Chapter 10: The Bird Prepares to Hatch Some Eggs

I had been pushing myself so hard to find answers, I had gotten stuck in my mind. When I dropped down into my heart and intuition, it was like everything shifted into place.

Once I paused to consider what I already knew how to do, I realized how many talents and how much experience I have. I had been allowing society’s conditioning messages that I needed to pursue a Master’s, or find a high paying position with ample benefits, or work extra hard to climb the corporate ladder as the only outlets to further my professional life. That was what was making me feel stuck. Perhaps in a previous generation, those were the options. A set in stone formula that rigidly demanded all people should evolve in the same way.

Well, all people are not the same.

When I allowed myself to imagine and dream big, that was where I finally found a path that lit up my insides.

Astrology.

Community building.

Working with teenage girls, their moms, and their grandmas in education and recreation.

Creating something.

Since what society presented to me did not resonate, I realized that I have to create my own path.

Duuuh, I’m an Aquarius Sun, Mars, and Venus. I can’t do anything like anyone else. I am here to innovate, rebel, and change the world - not follow anyone else’s rules.

So, now what?

Time to take action.

Day by day, I am going to take steps that will bring me closer to my goals.

January 18th, 2023 was the start of the Astrology Course that I signed up for back on Black Friday. By the end of this course, I will possess the astrological knowledge and business strategies to be able to become a professional astrologer.

That is my short term professional goal.

My long term professional goal came to me when I sat with rapé on the rooftop in Puerto Escondido. The initial seed that sprouted was a general idea: I wanted to create some kind of outside of school, wellness retreat-style program for girls. Since that initial bloom, the vines have been slowly and steadily creeping throughout my body, forming more and more connections until I now have a living, breathing goal rooted deep within me.

I want to create a program for teenage girls to come together, form sisterhood, learn about essential life topics not taught in school, combine generations, and have fun while doing it. There is such a need for more spaces for girls and women to connect, everywhere in the world, so we can share knowledge, support each other through our highs and our lows, and create community - for all, without sports, politics, religion, culture, etc being at the center.

Creating this program would use every single one of my talents and experiences to form something that I see that our world lacks. At the end of this post, I’ll share more about this, for anyone interested.

Excitement buzzes through my body just to talk about it.

And there you have it.

My life journey over the past 10 years.

What it’s taken for me to finally find clarity. For the first time ever, I feel like I know who I am and my purpose in life. (At this moment, at least)

And it’s only just beginning.

In astrology, there is an important transit called a Saturn return, which usually takes place between the ages of 27 and 30, caused by Saturn returning to the same position it was when you were born. During this time, you will be forced to face the areas of your life that you may have previously ignored, as Saturn represents topics like maturity, hard work, accountability, and adulthood. The opportunity is to get serious about what your legacy is and take responsibility, or resist and continue playing it small. If you choose the latter option, when your Saturn return comes around a second time 30 years later, you will have the same problems to face.

Well, I am fully immersed in my Saturn return and am choosing to embrace it. I have suffered from being constantly wrought with thoughts of “Am I doing what I’m really supposed to be doing?” and answering no, time and time again. However, growth is uncomfortable, so out of this discomfort I am now finally feeling like I see the light at the end of the tunnel.

I am ready to make the changes in my life to close the first chapter and welcome in a beautiful transformation into adulthood. I am thrilled with the possibilities that await me and am committed to working hard to achieve them. A message I received at the magical lake in Guatemala was that there is no time to play small. We must dream big, as the universe is counting on each and every one of us to do what we can to restore love and light into the world. I am taking that energy into 2023 and sharing my intentions so that I will be held accountable.

My hope is that by sharing my journey, others may resonate and gain comfort in knowing they are not alone in feeling lost, or ready for a big change. We must rise together to create the New World of our dreams. It is possible, but only through a collective shift. And that is happening.

So, that is what I’ve been doing :-)

♡ The End ♡

More About my Program Idea and Inspiration

Ever since my first job as a Camp Counselor at my temple’s summer camp, I've been searching for ways to make that position last throughout the year. Hence the reason I chose to study the Youth Work and Out of School Time concentration in my Child and Adolescent Development degree, as I knew I wanted to do something with kids, just not in school.

After years of working different jobs with children, I was feeling unbalanced, as I also had many other passions that tugged at my heart. I would love to study art, or nutrition, or plants, or yoga, or tour guiding, or therapy. The idea of picking just one stressed me out.

So… why not combine them all?

The solution: a program focused on girls and women to come together, form community, and empower the feminine uprising currently occurring on our planet. And make it fun, of course.

I want to take the best parts of the activities I grew up with that helped shape me, as well as what I have learned as an adult that I wish I knew as a kid.

One inspiration comes from the YMCA program I did growing up called Adventure Guides (previously Indian Guides, before PC culture emerged), similar to Girl/Boy Scouts. I was in a father daughter “tribe” that would meet once a month at a different member’s house to do arts and crafts, eat snacks, and always ended with a ritual that for each life event passed, we would receive a specific colored bead to add onto our necklace. Additionally, twice a year, all of the Adventure Guides tribes would gather for a weekend camping trip. Everyone would bring supplies not only for themselves, but also to contribute to communal meals, and of course prepare a skit to be presented around the fire on the last night of the weekend. All of this, in hindsight, was teaching me how to camp, survival skills, and intergenerational, communal living.

Another huge inspiration comes from my Jewish upbringing. I have so much gratitude for being raised in the Jewish community it’s hard to know where to begin. Despite what may come to mind when imagining an organized religion, Temple Beth Torah’s influence taught me to be open minded, humanitarian, spiritual, culturally aware, and outspoken. In the Torah, we are commanded to do “mitzvot”, or good deeds - not to get into Heaven or avoid Hell (Jews don’t have either of these beliefs); rather, just because it is the right thing to do. If you combine that with our long (and continued) history of persecution, this produces a person who really honors the value of helping others, no matter their background. Highlights from my Jewish education include social action projects, guided meditations during youth led services, organizing overnight raves in our temple for other Southern California Jewish high school youth groups to attend (yes, you read that right), and sweaty song sessions where we would belt our hearts out to “Wonderwall” accompanied by a throng of acoustic guitar wielding teenagers (looking back, some of the songs we sang were medicine songs that I continue to hear around healing ceremony fires). And, coincidentally, the Jewish high school youth group organization I was a part of, NFTY, also gave beads to add to your necklace for each event attended. Very tribal to use a decorative, visual system to determine someone’s status in life.

So, the dream is to form an intergenerational community and invite teachers of different disciplines to share their knowledge about subjects not commonly covered in the educational system. This is what I mean by the things that I wish I had learned when I was younger. My hope would be that early exposure to a wide variety of topics could lead to something sparking the interest of the participants, later turning into a roaring flame of passion and leadership.

PS - if you know someone doing something like this, have an idea, or want to somehow contribute, please message me! Co-creation is the best kind of creation ♡

Afterword

It has been a grounding and humbling experience converting my journey to words. This began as an exercise for myself to figure out what I’m doing. Thanks to my therapist pointing out that I am a visual learner, she suggested I draw or write out my life path, then add branches of ideas of where I could see it going. This is my interpretation of that suggestion, and wow am I proud of the hard work I put into it. I had been feeling like nobody really knows what I’ve been up to, seeing as I’m constantly moving around and interacting with new people that just know bits of my story. Then, I also realized, I don’t even fully know what I’ve been doing, as I haven’t given myself much time to stop, reflect, and think about how I want to move forward.

By pulling out the internal threads and weaving them into an external piece, I finally can put the finished work on the table and say “Look! This is me”. Now that I’ve made sense of my past and validated my experiences, I feel confident in charting the next course. I know where I’ve been and now I know where I want to go.

As a final anecdote, I was fortunate enough to experience the powerful Bufo medicine in a healing ceremony recently. When I returned to my body, I walked away from the group to give myself space, and immediately my eyes were drawn to a nest in a tree. Immediately, I thought about this story and felt grateful that the universe gave me such a clear sign. Synchronicity is so beautiful.

To conclude, I would love for anyone to reach out about anything this post might have stirred up inside you. Maybe you resonate with something, have questions, or share a common goal - whatever it may be, send me a message.

Thank you so much for reading and witnessing me on my journey. I love and appreciate you.

♡♡♡

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