My heart is filled with joy and peace as I begin to write on this beautiful Sunday morning. Even as Hurricane Richard approaches off the east coast of Belize – a storm that will soon be passing through Northern Guatemala as a downgraded tropical storm – all is calm, clear, warm, and beautiful here at Lake Atitlan. Based on storm projections, this powerful storm will pass well to the north. However, it does look like Richard will dump buckets of tropical moisture in the jungles surrounding the beautiful Mayan ruins of Tikal and Palenque.
The end of rainy season is rapidly approaching. We still get the occasional dumping from the skies, and the lake levels are still at a 40-year high, but for the most part San Marcos’s weather of the last few weeks has been absolutely gorgeous. (Of course, I think all weather is gorgeous – I would be just as thrilled if the rains were pouring down outside.).
As the past few weeks have evolved in beautiful synchronous manner, I have felt a subtle prompting urging me to continue immersing myself in the moment. My heart seems to laugh at self imposed pressure – pressure telling me that I need to be writing more consistently – pressure dictating that I should be meditating more often, being more consistent with yoga, taking life more seriously and pushing myself harder.
Instead, peaceful internal feelings guide me to relax – to breathe deeper – to ignore that silly man-made pressure – to simply practice present moment living in a more intense manner than I have ever previously done. It seems that self-imposed pressure to “work, work, work” and to “do, do, do” might really be a thing of the past.
These last ten days have been amazing – even mystical. Schedules and alarm clocks are rapidly losing their significance in my life. Even without manmade time-keepers, I usually awake around 6:00 a.m., eager to immerse myself into the magical moments that are soon to follow. While listening to beautiful music, I prepare my daily hot drink – a simple ceramic mug of water with freshly squeezed lime juice.
Carrying my steaming mug out onto the balcony porch, I sit and sip – pondering while focusing on nature – studying the colors and textures of nearby banana and avocado trees – listening to and immersing myself in the variety of sounds beginning to stir around me.
Soon I am back in the small kitchen, cooking a warm bowl of delicious oatmeal, topped with sliced banana and papaya, sweetened with pure honey.
Sandra often joins me as we engage in deep conversation. Other times I simply ponder and meditate in awe, or perhaps I read portions of a book that inspires me. It is not uncommon for tears of joy to begin trickling from the corners of my eyes at random unplanned moments.
The magic of what I am doing here in San Marcos is ever chipping away at the darker and denser places that remain still buried within my heart. As I continue excavating, each buried piece of coal is transformed into a beautiful diamond. My “Forget everything you know and lower your defenses” dream continues to serve me quite well as I feel my resistance, on an almost daily basis, continuing to slide off my soul, as if I were a snake shedding an old skin while making room for new growth.
Around 9:00 a.m., Sandra and I stroll together down the main thoroughfare of San Marcos – a street which is really just a cobblestone sidewalk, barely five feet wide, obviously only built for foot traffic. Both sides of this narrow uneven path are lined by a variety of structures, including small restaurants, hotels, shops, a preschool, and homes. Five minutes later, we arrive at our destination – a beautiful little hideaway named “The Flower House” – a comfy and cozy little getaway in which Nadia has created her holistic healing center.
Nadia’s teaching style is laid back and relaxed. We begin with a quick chat while making tea, followed by a brief meditative session involving a group of simple yoga-like movements called “The Five Tibetans”. Soon, we are off to our classroom. I use the term “classroom” very loosely here, because most of our training is hands on. During our first week, we learned to give Neuro-Lymphatic massage. Rather than studying from books, Nadia actually trains us to do the various moves by first showing us what to do, and then having us practice on volunteers. After this relaxed hands-on learning, we then retreat to a large round table in Nadia’s home where we take about 30 minutes to write down the detailed steps that we learned.
After a yummy but simple lunch, we then enter an afternoon practice period in which we get to apply what we have learned. Amazingly, in only five sessions, I have learned to give a full Neuro-Lymphatic massage all by myself. Now I am learning the basics of foot reflexology.
Shifting Tides
I wrote the above descriptive paragraphs on Sunday morning, October 24, 2010. Three days have already raced by, and the calendar has now reached Wednesday evening.
For the last two weeks, my life has been magical. Sandra and I frequently remind each other about how much we love rooming together. Life seems to be filled to the brim with rewarding social opportunities. My five-day-per-week classes with Nadia are fun, relaxed, and informative. I am learning to find joy in things that I never imagined I would want to do or study. I am even enjoying the fact that due to our special cleansing diet, I am cooking my own meals and swallowing lots of herbal supplements.
Evenings after dinner are filled with delightful conversation, reading captivating spiritual books, and even watching a few fun videos. Weekends seem to be consumed by things like shopping/bank trips to Panajachel, Mayan ceremonies, local music concerts, half-day walks to San Pedro, and simply enjoying life.
Because of restricted connectivity and busy schedules, my internet time has frequently been limited to fifteen minutes per day – barely enough time to check emails and glance through Facebook.
In the midst of all this joyful hustle and bustle, I have silently observed a constant debate playing out a hotly-contested ping-pong match in my left brain: “To write or not to write … that is the question.”
Part of me serves the tiny white ping-pong ball with a vicious spin, demanding that I return to my old passion of writing several times per week, reminding me of how writing has become a critical element of my growth path, trying to make me feel guilty when day after day zooms by without me having written even a single word.
Another part of me skillfully returns the serve with a swift back-handed twist, insisting that she does not want to write today. This part is quite convincing. She refuses to accept guilt, insisting that she desires to simply immerse herself in the present moment, to fully focus her energies on all of the amazing opportunities constantly unfolding around her.
As the back-and-forth ping-pong match continues, the detached observer in me attempts to referee this near-stalemate – reminding me that we can indeed find balance – that both of the other options can be correct – that no one needs to win or lose. Just as with my Sun Course, I feel as if it is time to once again shift my writing focus – to ride the ebb and flow of the tides as they constantly change around me.
I am still not quite sure what this change means. It is almost certain that I will be writing less while experiencing more of what is going on around me. I may or may not shift back to journal-style writing as I did during the Sun Course. At least in the short-term, there will likely be times where I may go several weeks without writing a single word. Then again, it is entirely possible that unexpected growth events will stimulate my passions, causing me to write furiously, possibly for days on end.
At this point in my process, I withhold making a prediction. The only thing for certain is that I will continue writing in some form or other.
Riding the Waves
Yesterday morning (Tuesday, Oct 26), I awoke with an unusual sensation. As I prepared my hot lemon juice, I noticed that I did not feel the usual expected joy in my heart. As I sat on the balcony staring at banana trees while sipping my steaming mug, a mild feeling of spiritual disconnect began to haunt my soul.
Fifteen minutes later, as Sandra joined me with her own hot steaming mug, I described my strange feelings to her, expressing my confusion as to why I seemed to have suddenly lost the awareness of magic.
After another fifteen minutes of relaxed conversation, Sandra and I both simultaneously arrived at the same answer.
“I am about to go through some new growth and learning.” I excitedly exclaimed to Sandra just as she began to say something similar.
I had suddenly recognized that I was simply experiencing the bottom of a wave between two spiritual highs. Such bottoms always seem to bring opportunities for new growth and insight, but they can also be quite emotionally challenging. In the past, I have never welcomed such “opportunities”, but yesterday I found myself feeling quite different, even eager to discover what was coming my way.
“Bring it on.” I told the Universe as I quietly speculated regarding the nature of the new incoming growth.
But as I stepped through Nadia’s doorway, I quickly forgot all about my funky mood.
Frustrating Impatience
Throughout yesterday, my frustration gradually grew in intensity. A feeling of deep puzzlement filled my heart as I found myself “unconsciously” facing the day. The fact that I was spiritually disconnected completely evaded my focused awareness. I had completely forgotten my early morning discussions with Sandra. I had forgotten my intuitive understanding that I was about to face new growth.
As the day began to unfold, the littlest of events began to secretly irritate me in the biggest of ways. I found myself quite disappointed when Nadia canceled our “Five Tibetans” exercise/meditation due to the lateness of our starting time. Then, Nadia became delayed by several unexpected outside interruptions and was unable to be physically present while we began practicing our warm-ups of foot reflexology. Later, I found myself in a very weird mental state as Nadia was finally able to join us. Rather than simply “loving what is”, I was uncharacteristically feeling somewhat annoyed.
Later, as Nadia was teaching us new reflexology moves, I became totally confused and disconnected from the present moment. As I tried to ask questions for clarification, my innocent and well-meaning spoken-words were clouded by a silent energy of frustration. Nadia, sensing my lack of “presence”, diverted my questions in a way that further fueled my feeling of disconnect.
After Nadia finished the teaching portion of our class, Sharon and I partnered together so that she could practice her first solo reflexology session on me. I was totally looking forward to – and apparently quite attached to – a great and relaxing foot treatment. I was not aware of it at the time, but the Universe had set us both up for a great growth lesson.
For various reasons, Sharon was in her own state of present-moment disconnect. She had not been fully focused in class, and did not completely understand all the procedures that she needed to perform on my feet. Meanwhile, I had unknowingly grown increasingly disconnected from Spirit. As Sharon began her treatment, I began to feel considerable judgment regarding the way in which she was working on me. As negative emotions began to surface, I forced a contrived smile onto my face while silently wallowing in an agitated state of perfectionism and suppressed frustration.
I felt as if I had been mysteriously split into two opposing people.
As a detached observer, I watched with puzzlement while another seemingly-separate part of my personality became obsessed with making a complete fool of myself. I experienced profound confusion by the fact that I seemed to be powerless in stopping or controlling the subsequent awkward behavior of that frustrated perfectionist who secretly lingered inside of me.
Frequently, even while still observing myself, I felt inexplicably compelled to correct Sharon, pointing out each time that I perceived her doing something wrong, missing a step or performing a step out of order. Wishing I could put a cork in my mouth, I felt incapable of stopping my ongoing critique of Sharon’s performance. My words were spoken with sugar-coated good intentions, but when they oozed out of my mouth, they were coated with the stench of buried frustration and judgment.
Ego pounded his chest, pompously proclaiming that I deserved a quality reflexology treatment, insisting that it was my duty to help Sharon learn to do things as I smugly understood that they should be done.
“How will she learn if I don’t point out her errors?” Ego self-righteously queried.
Throughout the entire hour, I was incapable of relaxing and allowing things to “simply be”. What might easily have been a fun and silly session between friends, instead turned into an unpleasant energetic tug-of-war. The more I “lovingly” critiqued Sharon’s treatment, the more her behavior shifted in ways that increasingly triggered my annoyed feelings.
With hindsight, I now realize that I was fully responsible for creating the unfolding events, but at that time my holier-than-thou attitude was fully blind to this fact. What ensued during that treatment could have been a comical episode of Laurel and Hardy – only I was not laughing. Ego was serious and quite crabby.
As Sharon and I parted company early yesterday afternoon, we were both confused and puzzled by what had taken place. I am sure that she believed me to be angry at her. She immediately apologized for her lack of focus. I appreciated and acknowledged her apology, but was far from ready to apologize myself.
Lemons to Love
Early this morning, as I sipped my hot lemon juice on the balcony, Sandra again came out to join me.
“I’m still feeling disconnected today” I expressed to Sandra with confusion. “This afternoon I need to isolate myself in my room. It is time for me to do some more writing in order to obtain clarity about what is going on deep within my soul.”
Suddenly I remembered yesterday morning’s insight – the one telling me that I was about to experience new growth. I laughed at my forgetfulness as I recognized that my struggles yesterday were the basis of that growth. I swiftly shifted my attitude, deciding that now was the time to go on another treasure hunt – a search for the hidden cause of that puzzling behavioral outburst.
In the hour that followed, Sandra became a beautiful and intuitive spiritual counselor, gradually assisting me in turning over a few large stones from my past, helping me to examine just what might be buried beneath the dark moist side of those large stagnant rocks. For the most part, Sandra simply listened, asked a few questions, and offered some much needed feedback – but her loving feedback was exactly what I needed – exactly what helped me to find the courage to dig deeper in my heart.
“I feel so stupid about how I treated Sharon yesterday.” I explained to Sandra. “She probably hates me now. I am such a social misfit.”
“Cancel that!” Sandra responded, lovingly reminding me to not use such negative labels.
“Brenda, you are far from being a social misfit.” She continued. “Just look at all of the friends you have made right here in San Marcos alone.”
I had to acknowledge that Sandra was correct, but the emotions I was experiencing were telling me just the opposite. Determined to trace those emotions back to their origin, I did not have far to look. I knew exactly from whence these dysfunctional feelings were surfacing. As a vulnerable and impressionable young boy, my teen years had been filled with social trauma.
Gradually, as Sandra and I talked, long-suppressed emotions began to find their way into the spotlight. I explained details regarding how extremely insecure I had been with social interactions during my teen years – how I had suppressed so much of my personality – how I cowered in fear because of what I perceived as my dirty and shameful little transgender secrets.
Soon, I was blubbering and sniffling as tears began to flow and unexpected emotions started to surface. Around Sandra, I felt totally comfortable in allowing myself to display such vulnerability. Sandra and I continued talking. The discussion was amazing, eye opening, and filled with insights.
Our conversation helped to expose a lifelong pattern. During my teenage years I had built huge walls around myself – protective walls designed to keep me safe. In those years I had many acquaintances, some closer than others, but I never understood what it meant to have a genuine friend. I had too many secrets to keep, too many walls to maintain.
Even in my marriage, I could never fully divulge my heart. I was terrified by the hidden secrets that were buried behind my protective walls. I believed that I could never share that forbidden and shameful part of my self with anyone, especially not with someone I loved. It would hurt them too much.
It was not until my early thirties when I began to share. At first, my sharing was limited to my wife and to a few “safe” support-group friends who were just like me. I began to develop two types of friends: Those who were simply acquaintances and those who knew the secrets of my heart.
There was no middle ground. It was all or nothing. Unless prompted by deep intuition, I kept all of my acquaintances at a safe distance, deflecting their questions and avoiding conversations that might prove awkward. In order to have a true friend – a friend with whom I could share deep meaningful conversations – such a friend would need to know my full life story. In my thirties, such a friendship with a non-transgendered individual was out of the question. I was too terrified to risk such disclosure.
In my forties, after my transition to Brenda, I gradually expanded my circle of deep friendships to carefully-selected every-day people who were guided into my life. Each self-disclosure began as a terrifying risk – one in which I was forced to face my deepest fears – but invariably, I came away with another amazing friendship along with slightly increased confidence and courage.
What puzzled me, however, was the fact that even though I was beginning to have close and genuine friends, I still lacked confidence regarding how to engage in simple every-day conversations with such friends. During my transition I began to work on developing those skills, but emotional issues clouded my progress. After years of practicing, I now have access to most of the skills that I have sought to cultivate – but such skills are not always fully intuitive, and they do not run on auto-pilot. Even now, I often find myself easily slipping into old fearful and dysfunctional patterns – just as I did yesterday with Sharon.
So this takes me back to my present fears. The emotions that came up this morning in my discussion with Sandra make no sense given my present-day confidence and courage to be myself – yet invariably, when I am in normal every day social situations I often still find myself slipping into these old fears, cowering in a corner, being a wallflower, stumbling over awkward words, and/or avoiding interactions unless intuition moves me forward.
Yes, I do indeed have many friends here in San Marcos. In fact I have made close friends throughout every phase of my journey, and I have an amazing array of deep and meaningful friendships back home. So why do I occasionally still cower with fear over silly every day interactions?
As I discussed my emotions with Sandra, she helped me to recognize what I already knew. Based on past “all or nothing” experiences, I still tend to put people into one of two boxes: those with whom I am energetically prompted to share my life – and everyone else. Quite frequently, I tend to completely ignore many of those in the “everyone else” category. Since I do not feel energetically drawn to them as “close friendship material”, I tend to subconsciously write them off as not being worthy of my time.
I shudder in my shoes as I ponder the implications of judging people “as not being worthy of my time.” This is so against everything I believe. I am deeply humbled as I have to admit that in a very subtle way, this is exactly what I have been doing – not intentionally, mind you, but out of long-term habit. Such judgment has not been based on conscious thought – instead it has been based on subconscious energies of self-preservation. Nevertheless, it is judgment just the same.
Sandra and I took this discussion one step deeper. As it turns out, I now realize that I keep many people at a distance because I do not yet fully trust my ability to set proper boundaries. While I am no longer afraid of casual friendships, I do have a deep seated fear that if I am friendly with too many people, I may lose myself in so many relationships that I do not have time to honor the passions of my own inspired mission. The bizarre contradiction here is that a major portion of my personal mission statement is to learn to love everyone unconditionally.
Very often I find myself completely ignoring people because of this silly fear of not being capable of protecting my boundaries.
How silly is that! Yes, the old me did indeed have huge boundary problems. I used to be a virtual doormat, always trying to please others while seeking love and validation from my friends. But I have long since outgrown this stage. I have repeatedly proven to myself that I am fully capable of establishing and maintaining solid-but-loving emotional boundaries.
As this morning’s delightful conversation with Sandra came to a conclusion, I was filled with a newfound determination – a determination to live my personal mission statement much more fully than ever before.
My changes will be very subtle and gradual. First, I will focus on being more present – attempting to notice everyone that crosses my path. Second, I will begin making a conscious effort to be friendly with people that I tend to lump into the “everyone else” category – even though I may never see them again. Such an effort may simply be a smile and a “hello”, or it may be a longer conversation. What matters is that I will make the effort to send love.
Not only will such conversations spread the love that I feel in my heart, but they will also aid me in further fine tuning my social interaction skills.
One thing is certain. I will no longer avoid such interaction out of fear of involvement. I do not need to worry about becoming too involved. I trust myself and I trust the intuitions that come from my Divine Source. If a friendship is meant to evolve from such behavior then that is exactly what I want to happen. If such a friendship is not meant to develop, I fully trust the Universe to energetically keep the friendship from progressing. The energy will simply not be there.
Something tells me that the results of my new experiment will be magical.
Return to Peace
This morning, after arriving at the Flower House, I cornered Sharon as soon as circumstances allowed for a little privacy.
“I need to apologize to you.” I told Sharon with love radiating in my heart. “I am really sorry for how I treated you yesterday. I was in a very spiritually-disconnected state and I unknowingly fell into some old perfectionism patterns. I am really sorry for how I behaved.”
A short heartfelt conversation ensued, followed by genuine loving hugs. My heart resonated with deep peace.
Yes, yesterday’s unrest had indeed been an inside job. My return to peace was as simple as recognizing my judgments, healing my own emotions, refilling my heart with unconditional love, and then having the courage to speak my truth.
The magic has returned to its home, vibrating peacefully in my heart. I cannot wait to see where it leads me next.
Copyright © 2010 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved