Brenda's Bicycles

 

As I wait for my ferry on this beautiful Saturday morning, my mind is racing with anticipation. I have absolutely no expectations for today’s events. From a logical viewpoint, my twenty-one month obsession with Rafael’s Medicine Man makes absolutely no sense at all. But, in my heart, it makes all the sense in the world.

 

As I ponder my upcoming reunion, just a little over an hour away, my mind is whisked back to a powerful scene in the movie “The Peaceful Warrior”. The two main characters, “Dan” and his mentor “Socrates” have been hiking up a mountain trail for several hours. Dan agreed to participate in the hike solely because Socrates had told him there was something special he really wanted to show him.

 

As they pause in a meadow, Dan, feeling physically exhausted but still filled with wonder and expectation, queries “Are we almost there? How much further is it?”

 

Socrates slyly grins as he replies, “We are already here, now.”

 

As he looks around, observing the ordinary nature of the small mountain meadow, Dan, feeling quite annoyed, exclaims in a whining tone of voice, “This? This is what you brought me to see? It had better not be that flower over there! Soc, please tell me it is not that stupid flower!”

 

Socrates looks down and kicks a large rock by Dan’s feet and replies, “No … not that flower … this rock.”

 

Dan momentarily fights back the anger, complaining about all his wasted effort, his exhaustion, his sheer disappointment, his ruined expectations.

 

Socrates simply smiles and peacefully says, “Funny, you seemed to be so incredibly happy throughout the entire hike … that is until now. What happened, Dan?

 

After pausing for a few seconds of pondering, the light flashes on in Dan’s mind. He suddenly verbalizes “It is the journey that brings me joy, not the destination.”

 

As I eagerly wait for my ferry to Playa Del Carmen, I have absolutely no expectations regarding my rapidly approaching and somewhat mysterious reunion with Rafael. I could not even begin to anticipate what may or may not happen as we sit down and chat about this or that.

 

But I do have one absolute unwavering anchor of knowledge. The journey that continues to guide me—combined with the peace of here and now—has been fabulous. I would not forfeit one element of it, not for anything.

 

Internal growth and spiritual insights continue to flow into my life on a daily basis—and I have a powerful awareness residing in my heart that my journey has just begun. Regardless of the events that may (or may not) unfold today, I will be forever grateful to Rafael for the adventurous spiritual passion that he has helped to ignite within my heart.

 

Breakfast in Playa

 

Breakfast was great. I didn’t arrive at our meeting place until 10:00 a.m.. Rafael was quite mysterious, never providing me with a time—he had simply written “Meet me at the restaurant on Saturday morning.” Part of me wanted to arrive earlier, but a feeling of peace confirmed that the 9:00 a.m. ferry would be just fine.

 

“Rafael está aquí? (Is Rafael here?)” I asked a young waitress soon after walking into the small deli-style restaurant.

 

Disappearing into the back room, she emerged moments later. “He is coming soon,” is all she said, followed by “Please, take a seat.”

 

While waiting, I took advantage of the opportunity to feast on a late brunch of “Frutas D’Light”. The delicious crepe was perfect, filled with slices of banana and kiwi, covered with slightly-caramelized chocolate syrup and whipped cream, folded in half once—with the remaining half folded yet again. The stuffed crepe was then topped off with additional yummy chocolate syrup and whipped cream. I savored every bite, all the while envisioning what the remainder of my day might be like—actually feeling both peaceful and clueless all at the same time.

 

Moments after the waiter removed my empty plate, as I lightly patted my lips with a napkin, a familiar face walked through the large glass doors. Aside from the fact that he looked a little stressed, Rafael looked just like I remember him. He has a stout build, with a strong upper body—but walks with a strong limp, favoring a leg that was damaged in a surgery while he was still a young boy. His kind dark brown eyes met mine as he walked right toward me.

 

Rafael reached out his hand, which I completely ignored, as I instead embraced him in a warm hug. For a few brief minutes, he fiddled around behind the small bar in the restaurant, taking care of a few items of business before returning to sit at my table.

 

It was as if we never skipped a beat. After discussing his moves to Tulum and subsequently to Playa Del Carmen, our conversation quickly turned to the business at hand.

 

“Today, I am taking you to meet the man we talked about.” He began. “This afternoon, we will leave the restaurant at 1:00 p.m., and I will take you to a class with my teacher. Then, after the class, we will participate in the meditation service.”

 

“Wow.” I silently grinned. “He has this all figured out … I’m glad that I am flexible and did not make any other plans for today.”

 

“I wasn’t even sure if you would remember me.” I stated—but it was really a question.

 

“Of course I remember you.” He lovingly replied. “You don’t make that kind of a connection with very many people. How could I forget that?”

 

“We might not be done in time tonight for you to catch a ferry back to Cozumel.” Rafael continued. “If we don’t, I will find a place for you to sleep, perhaps at my sister’s place. Is that OK with you?”

 

“Yes” was my immediate reply. For a moment, I silently chided myself for not following my tiny hunch to bring makeup and my laptop power cord. I have no pajamas, no toiletries of any kind, no change of clothes, and no makeup … but I realized that absolutely none of that mattered in the least.

 

“You know, Brenda, I just found your email last week.” Rafael seemed to apologize. “I rarely check my email any more.”

 

“I totally understand.” I reassured him. “Your timing was perfect.”

 

I then proceeded to tell Rafael how grateful I am to him for inspiring me on my current path.

 

“You already had it inside of you.” He grinned.

 

“Yes, but you helped me find it there. You helped to uncover parts of it.” I bantered back.

 

We chatted for a few more minutes before Rafael let me know, “I have errands to run and work to do. I will meet you back here at 1:00 p.m., and we can leave from here. Does that work for you?”

 

Fully taking advantage of my two free hours, I set out on foot to see a little more of Playa Del Carmen. After walking thirty two blocks (sixteen each way) to purchase a couple of books (in Spanish) that Eduardo recommended, I now sit on the beach under a small thatched umbrella. I am driven to document every step of this magical journey as it unfolds. In just fifteen minutes I will take my next steps into the unknown. Peace and giggly anticipation are my constant walking companions.

 

The Morning After

 

I’m getting a late start as I begin my writing on this beautiful Sunday morning—the day after an encounter that is both an ending and a new beginning.

 

Ending are twenty-one months of wondering and pondering about Rafael’s mysterious Medicine Man. The anticipation is now replaced by eagerness to participate in a new story, one that is just beginning to unfold. Only time will tell where the plot may yet lead.

 

Miguel just now strolled by—and didn’t even see me. Just happening to glance up at the right moment, I called out to him. As he turned around, his eyes lit up and a large smile formed on his face. For ten minutes we shared recent updates from each others’ lives. Almost two weeks have zoomed along since we last visited, and Miguel made a point of letting me know how much he has missed me.

 

“I think about you constantly.” He reminded me. “Do you still think about me too?”

 

“I think about ALL of my friends, very often.” I began. “I love my friends, and I love you very much … as my friend.”

 

Miguel smiled, and then flashed a sad look in his eyes. “I fear that very soon you are going to go away and I will just stay here.”

 

“But I am going away … and you will be staying here.” I acknowledged while giving him a warm loving smile.

 

Miguel seemed obsessed to remind me. “I love you as a friend, I love you as a person, AND I love you as a woman. I think of you all of the time. How I wish that you could reciprocate those feelings to me.”

 

“Can you reciprocate?” Miguel lovingly asked, his eyes staring deeply into mine, seeming to long for an answer that he already knew was not possible.

 

“No, I’m sorry Miguel, I cannot.” I told him, with deep loving sincerity.

 

It kills me to break Miguel’s heart, yet I know that gentle honesty is the only response.

 

Miguel looked at his watch, indicating that he needed to resume walking to work. “Will I see you here in the plaza this evening?” he queried with warm genuine eyes.

 

“Yes, I will be here tonight.”

 

How could I say “no” after that—even being as tired as I feel today? Besides, I am anxious to practice a little more Sunday night Salsa dancing.

 

But I seem to be wandering from yesterday’s story.

 

Rafael and I got off to quite a late start yesterday, but I was not annoyed in the least—I simply used my spare time to study more Spanish. When he had originally asked me to meet at a restaurant where he works, I had worried, “Won’t he get in trouble for spending his work time talking to a friend?”

 

When we finally drove away from the restaurant at 2:20 p.m., Rafael apologized “I’m so sorry for making you wait … there are just so many things you have to do when you run a business.”

 

In the minutes that followed I learned that Rafael’s brother invested the money to purchase the building only three months ago, and that Rafael and his sister are partners. Rafael is on the go all day long trying to fulfill his responsibilities—both in running the business, and as a single father. “I don’t have time for much of anything else—except I always go to my meditation group every Saturday evening.” He explained.

 

While busily running several errands together, I continually bombarded Rafael with a series of questions, eager to learn anything I could about our upcoming evening.

 

“What spiritual tradition does your teacher follow?” I asked, expecting Rafael to say something like Mayan, Aztec, or Olmec.

 

“It is not like that,” Rafael replied. “My teacher does not follow a certain spiritual tradition. He takes truth from all sources and helps us to understand how to apply it in our lives.”

 

As I reflected on past conversations with Rafael, I quickly realized where my misunderstandings came from. During my first visit to Cozumel, Rafael had taught me a great deal about Mayan traditions and spirituality. Often, during these same conversations, we had discussed in depth many of Rafael’s own spiritual beliefs—but Rafael had never once told me that his beliefs were the same as those of the Mayans.

 

As I ponder similar conversations where Rafael discussed his powerful meditation group and his “Medicine Man” who guides it, I now reflect back and can clearly remember that Rafael never once called him a “Mayan Medicine Man”—the “Mayan” part was a misguided assumption that I had thrown into the mix, based on unrelated conversations.

 

“Maybe Medicine Man was not the proper translation for me to use.” Rafael apologized. “It was just the closest word that popped into my mind at the time. My teacher is a powerful spiritual man, very connected to the universe, and he does perform healings—what he does is quite close to what a Medicine Man does.”

 

I smiled inside at how easily I had let my assumptions fill in the gaps of my understanding. This whole experience causes me to seriously ponder “How much of my life is similarly created by unfounded assumption?”

 

“The answer is easy.” I tell myself. “My entire life, my whole reality, is one-hundred-percent created by my own personalized perception of what appears to be out there.”

 

Back to our conversation, I casually asked Rafael, “So where does the meditation group meet?”

 

I nearly fell off my seat when he replied, “Cancun.”

 

Never having been there, I have been thinking about a possible day excursion to Cancun—just to check out the city, to see what it is like.

 

“So we’re going there tonight?” I asked with surprise. “I was always under the impression that your meditation group met in Cozumel?”

 

Smiling at my confusion, Rafael filled me in. “Every Saturday, I used to take a ferry to Playa Del Carmen, then a bus to Cancun, and then a taxi to my teacher’s home. All that travel was difficult and expensive, but I somehow managed to do it almost every week.”

 

By now I was laughing inside with joyful gratitude. I realized that if I had known these facts a few months ago I would surely have missed out on many incredible experiences of my past three months—experiences that stemmed directly from searching in various different directions—all in Cozumel—until this week that is.

 

“So how is your son doing?” I continued. Even though I had never met Rafael’s son, I felt as if I already knew him. Rafael and I had talked a great deal about him.

 

“He is doing really well. We’re going to pick him up after we finish running errands. He is going to Cancun with us.” A twinge of excitement accompanied the thought that I would finally have the opportunity to meet him.

 

As we drove by Raphael’s home, he indicated that his son was out playing with friends. After a few blocks of searching, I spied three young boys and a young girl talking together in the street.

 

“There he is.” Rafael pointed proudly. “He is the one with the long hair.”

 

As those words streamed from Rafael’s tongue, I had to do a double take as the young girl with long hair approached the driver’s window. He was so pretty! I had a difficult time believing he was a boy. With his beautiful, well groomed, straight black hair, falling just below his shoulders, along with his delicate facial features, and the high-pitched voice of a nine-year-old, I would never have ever believed otherwise.

 

Rafael explained, “My son loves his hair long. The schools have been giving me a really hard time, but I tell them that I support my son having his hair any way that makes him happy, and they just have to get over it. I am not going to make him cut it.”

 

“Good for you!” I congratulated him, while silently beginning to wonder if the universe had guided me into Rafael’s life for perhaps another reason. “Could this beautiful young boy be transgendered, just like me?” I pondered. The thought continues to radiate through my soul today as I write. A strong feeling tells me the subject will likely be breeched in the not too distant future—but only if my promptings take me there.

 

As we drove through Cancun, the journey took us through areas that most tourists rarely see. Our first stop was the home of Rafael’s Medicine Man. Rafael had not yet asked his Medicine Man for permission to bring me to the group. While opening his door, Rafael instructed me, requesting “Please wait in the car, while I go talk to him.”

 

A few minutes later, Rafael emerged, saying “We can’t go in yet, he is getting ready for tonight … but yes, he says you can definitely come to our group.”

 

Then after a short pause, Rafael continued, “He says he can feel your spirit, and that you have an important mission to fulfill in the world. And he also told me that you have something to teach me—but he didn’t say what that is.”

 

Those last two sentences were now stuck in my mind. “I wonder what he meant by that?” I humbly and silently pondered.

 

“We’re going to a very poor area of town.” Rafael prepared me, as he resumed his driving. “My friends Sylvia and Victoria are cooking us dinner. We’re going to Victoria’s daughter’s home.”

 

Minutes later, Rafael turned his car down a bumpy dirt road in a neighborhood very similar to the less affluent areas that I have explored on my bicycle here in Cozumel—roads leading out among the more humble homes.

 

Being filled to overflowing with love and peace, I was prepared for anything. As we entered the small rural home, I could feel that same love being reflected back at me.

 

Looking around, eager to take it all in, I noted that we were in a large room constructed of concrete blocks. To my left was a big rectangular living area, almost devoid of furnishings. Several photos of children hung on the raw unfinished walls, along with a few paintings that appear to have been created perhaps by the same children. Those were the only obvious wall décor. A single large hammock stretched from one wall, ending at a large concrete column just right of center.

 

Everything to the right of the column appeared to be the kitchen and dining area. There was a small refrigerator, a few feet of counter space with a small microwave oven on it, and a gas range. Conspicuously absent was any hint of indoor plumbing or a sink. Nestled right up against the concrete column was a small table with a clean, red and white plastic tablecloth, surrounded by five chairs. In front of each chair, silverware and napkins were carefully arranged on the tablecloth.

 

Peace and love continued to glow in my heart as I responded to Sylvia’s simple request, “Please sit.” Soon we were feasting on chicken with an orange colored spicy Mexican sauce and a large plate of white rice. Each of us was given a glass two-thirds full of Pepsi to wash down the food.

 

Rafael noticed that Victoria was not eating. After asking her why, she protested “I was starving and I already ate earlier. Please, eat up.”

 

I couldn’t help but wonder, “Am I eating her food?”

 

Realizing the only polite thing to do was to continue eating, that is exactly what I did. I devoured everything on my plate. The spicy chicken was actually quite tasty (but a little hotter than I am used to).

 

For most of dinner, Rafael, Victoria, and Sylvia chatted away rapidly, in conversation that completely escaped me. I listened intently to every sound, desperately attempting to pick out the words—but their accents and speed made comprehension nearly impossible for my weak listening skills. Several times, I could tell they were talking about me. Rafael had been filling them in about my journey, then they said something back.

 

Pausing, Rafael turned to me and interpreted in English. “They are saying that you have such a beautiful glow of light and peace in your eyes.”

 

My heart just melted. Hearing this just made me glow even brighter. I was literally basking in the feeling of intense peace.

 

As Rafael and I finished eating and excused ourselves from the table, I noted that Victoria’s daughter and grandchildren then sat down and began to eat. This made me feel a little better as I realized that there must be enough food to go around.

 

Rafael and I sat outside under the shade in front while the family visited and cleaned up. “Do you understand how little money these people have?” Rafael asked. “They consider this a great honor to do this service to us. Tonight’s food was a delicacy for them, and was not cheap.”

 

“I know,” I replied, “I could sense the same thing. I feel very humbled and honored.”

 

Then I began to squirm. “I’m going to need a restroom soon.” I began. “Should I ask to use one here, or would it be better to wait till we go back to your Medicine Man’s home?”

 

“It would be better if you can wait.” He replied. “We’ll be leaving in thirty minutes.”

 

Again, the thought passed through my mind, “I wonder whether they even have indoor plumbing?”

 

Shortly before we drove to our next destination, Rafael’s son and Victoria’s grandchildren were playing together nearby. Out of the blue, Rafael heard one of the children refer to his son as “ella” (she).

 

Rafael smiled and gently corrected the child, “It is ‘he’, not ‘she’”

 

I soon realized that I am not the only one who sees the feminine beauty in this sweet nine-year-old boy.

 

Immediately after walking into the meditation room, Rafael’s Medicine Man greeted me in Spanish. “You are very welcome to our home. I am very pleased that you are here. Please, have a seat.”

 

I understood everything, so Rafael didn’t need to translate on my behalf.

 

Rafael sat down on one side of me, his son on the other, all of us on the front row. Looking around, I saw that we were in a large outdoor room, with high concrete walls. Above us was a thatched roof, around the edges of which were five or six large blowing fans, circulating air all around the inside of the room.

 

On one side of the room were three rows set up for participants, each containing perhaps ten white plastic lawn chairs. Facing us, the Medicine Man had his own lawn chair, a small easel, a table with a variety of large quartz crystals, and a large wicker basket filled to the brim with a variety of fruit.

 

Gradually, around twenty people filtered into the room. While quietly observing, I noticed that everyone addressed Rafael’s Medicine Man as “Maestro,” which literally means “Teacher,” so that is how I will consistently refer to him from this point forward.

 

For about an hour, Rafael’s Teacher led a presentation about the process of manifesting things into our life. Discussing concepts very similar to the movie “The Secret”, the Teacher also briefly summarized the structure of the brain, and emphasized that creating actual change in our life requires that we get our thoughts to pass through our frontal cortex, past our mid brains, and into the emotion-based primitive brain.

 

“When we combine the thinking of our desires with our emotional centers,” he explained, “that is where the real power comes from. That is when our manifestations will come true.”

 

This sounds a lot like what one of my favorite teachers, Gregg Braden teaches when he emphasizes that it is not the words that make a prayer, instead, it is the emotion and beliefs behind the words that adds the power.

 

Amazingly, as the Teacher spoke, I understood almost every word. He was speaking loudly, slowly, and clearly enunciating. My language skills surprised even me. There was no need for Rafael to translate for me at all.

 

In keeping with the day’s discussion theme, the Teacher preceded the meditation sequence by asking everyone to write down three things that they want to manifest into their lives. Then, he asked them to focus on those three things during our meditation.

 

I cannot say that I got much out of my first meditation experience with Rafael’s Teacher. As we began the meditation, everyone put on blindfolds—helping us to have the same effect as if we were in a dark room. For about thirty minutes, the teacher guided us.

 

I frequently flounder during guided meditations. My noisy brain likes to throw temper tantrums, wandering all over the place, not letting me visualize anything. During last night’s meditation, I was distracted and began to have a difficult time understanding the Teacher’s words. At two points in the meditation, I heard blowing noises all around me. My curiosity was peaked as my “Weird” alarms began going off in my logical left brain—causing me to completely lose focus. The confusing nature of what people were doing caused a small amount of judgment to momentarily enter into my awareness

 

As the meditation ended, the Teacher asked each person to share their meditation experience. Some simply made a brief statement, while others described what had taken place for them. Unfortunately, my language skills again evaporated during this phase, as most people’s rapid speaking blew right by my ears as a series of unintelligible sounds. When my turn for sharing arrived, I simply and genuinely said “I am filled with love and peace,” which was definitely still the case. In spite of not really enjoying the meditation, I continued to feel the profound glow inside my heart.

 

About 8:30 p.m., Rafael leaned over and said “I think we can still make your ferry back to Cozumel if we leave now.”

 

As we drove away, Rafael explained that during the remainder of the gathering, everyone divides into small groups and discusses their meditation experiences with each other. “Don’t feel bad about making me miss anything.” He reassured me. “I often leave at this time because I have a long drive and need to get back to the restaurant.”

 

As we sped back toward Playa Del Carmen, Rafael took me by way of the Hotel district, showing off the amazing array of huge elaborate expensive resorts that line the beaches of Cancun. I could only think, “These are beautiful, but Cozumel is so peaceful.”

 

As we slowly rounded a single-lane onramp leading onto the high-speed highway, Rafael suddenly screeched his brakes as a car came headed right toward us. The lady in the other car barely stopped in time. As they rolled down their windows to talk to each other, Rafael lovingly explained to her that she was driving the wrong way on the one-way ramp. As we drove away, Rafael seemed quite shaken by what almost happened, but I just smiled and continued to glow inside. For some strange reason, I did not experience even the slightest amount of fear. Absolute peace continued to resonate within.

 

Before we got too far, Rafael explained to me the funny blowing noises during the meditation. “As we were manifesting our desires,” he began, “we pulled the energy of the manifestation through our seven energy levels—kind of like Chakras. As the energy reaches our mouth, we form a cupping motion with our hands, and blow away any dirty energy which has collected.”

 

After hearing this explanation, I had a frame of reference to relate the experience to other energy work I have witnessed.

 

Our driving home conversation was continuous and rich with meaning as we discussed the evening’s events, explored our spiritual beliefs, talked about his journey in raising his son, and my journey to Cozumel.

 

We also discussed our desire to have more discussions in the future.

 

“You know where and how to find me.” Rafael told me. “I’m at the restaurant almost every day. Don’t email me though, because I rarely check my computer—but I’ll give you my phone number. Please, come on Saturdays and go to Cancun with me anytime that you want.”

 

“I would love to go again.” I told him. “Tonight was a fascinating experience, and I am determined to remain open minded. I want to learn from all traditions.”

 

The last ferry for Cozumel leaves Playa Del Carmen at 10:00 p.m., and we barely made it. Rafael dropped me off two blocks from the terminal (the closest car access), and I ran to the ticket booth. With less than five minutes to spare, I purchased my ticket, ran down to the loading area, and scampered up the ramp.

 

Choosing an upstairs seat, one where the window opened wide, I leaned my head out the window all the way across the channel. With the breeze blowing in my hair, I looked up toward the faint stars above—but my mind was elsewhere. Deeply immersed in the energy of my experience, I was lovingly pondering the fact that in just a matter of a few short weeks, I am now exploring three different spiritual paths all at the same time—gleaning anything and everything that speaks to my heart, and simply loving every moment.

 

Copyright © 2009 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved