Thank you Roatan

 I'm sitting on my deck in the most perfectly rainy morning looking out over the ocean I've come to know over the last five weeks. I know where the reef changes and where the shades of turquoise shift and the direction the tide pulls...

And this is my favorite incarnation of this ocean view I've called mine since I've lived here...

This one where the horizon melts into the sky and it's just some kind of grayish blue dome that sweeps up and back over me. The turquoise strips of water and pounded down by fat, tropical raindrops and somehow the color disappears below the surface.

I love the sounds on mornings like this.

Temporarily the chirps and Squeeks of the jungle pause as though everything alive has unhinged its jaw and turned its face upwards to drink in the baptism from the sky.

The various roofs from nearby houses echo at different pitches - the corrugated tin rooftops are my favorite.

Water lands on the palm fronds encircling my house and then pour down like a natural gutter system - a waterfall of rainwater spilling onto the dirt and sand earth.

It's my second to last day here on Roatan. Day 32. I just walked back from the school where I tutor the kids in English twice a week and made it home just before the skies opened up.

I've loved working with the kids.

We sit in a little nook filled with donated text books and work on worksheets for reading and writing.

They are such sweet little kids.

This afternoon I'll have my second to last day at the clinic! In all honesty, I am not sad to leave Roatan- but I am a little sad about leaving the clinic.

It's been such a remarkable opportunity to experience GP clinic work in an underserved community and be given such autonomy and trust by the doctors!

I really feel as though this has made me want to go into family medicine.

I love the variety of patients and conditions... The constant puzzle to figure out what the problem is and then sort out a treatment plan.

And I love taking time to chat and talk to the patients about their condition and lifestyle and habits... I love new people, so I think it's a good environment for me!

We had a little girl yesterday who came in with respiratory distress during a serious asthma attack. We had to give her hydrocortisone IV and she was nebulized for hours. She was such a brave, sweet little girl who watched the needles go into her arm and didn't flinch or cry but just toughed it out.

I sat with her and held her hand a little and let her listen to my heart with the stethoscope...

When I went to give her mom the medications and discharge them the little girl wrapped her arms around me and gave me the longest, tightest hug and then kissed me on the cheek.

My heart melted in that moment.

I love this work.

But I am ready to go home.

I told Carlos the other night on FaceTime how I had surprised myself by how much I missed him and how homesick I was.

Usually when I travel I am just so in the moment and in love with the Now, that I forget to be homesick... 

And yet on this trip- for as wonderful and fulfilling as it's been... I was never fully here.

I was always- in every minute- back home with my dogs and my family and Carlos.

I don't know if I'll ever come back here.

Something tells me I won't.

But then, when has my life ever been predicted or predictable.

If I do come back I would live on the West End- in a place like where Dr Diane was living across from Sundowners... The place I stayed on New Year's Eve... And I would work in the mornings so I could dive and or practice yoga in the afternoons/evenings at Earth Mamas

(I'm writing this here as a note to myself so I can remember if I ever look back here)...

So- I guess this is my last post from this adventure.

Thank you Roatan.

Yoga: something old, something new

The cicadas all started at once - their seemingly orchestrated stringed instrument bodies creating a crescendo of sound that gradually drowned out the squeaks and chirps of the jungle and the nearby crashing of waves on the beach.

The wind was blowing through the palm trees that surrounded our woven grass roof and rain was falling intermittently- scattering across the folds of the yoga hut and sneaking through little gaps to sprinkle us gently like a baptism.

Four red lanterns hung in the corner of the hut casting a meditative glow across the hardwood floors. The candles and incense flickered in the wind.

I closed my eyes with back flat on the earth, palms open to the ceiling, body drained, worked, and cathartically  cleansed and let my breath guide me into a deep savasana meditation.

This was my first yoga class on Roatan the night before last... My first yoga class of 2015... And in all honesty, my first yoga class in a LONG time that I was fully in.

Yoga has taken a turn for me in the last few years and has been a process of undoing... Of unfolding... And basically devolving for me.

I am rarely drawn to practice and when I do it is a chore for me instead of a place of peace and union, like it used to be.

I found myself in this class instinctively kicking up into pincha mayurasana from dolphin pose only to hear my deeper self say "maybe not today. Stick with dolphin." From camel pose I lifted up to drop back into my familiar kapotasana only to hear that voice laugh a little and say "I'm not sure we do that any more."

All these old poses that were the "next level" I had evolved into and become... They were no longer available to my body because I'd been off my mat for so long and my muscles were unprepared for them.

And in this class, tucked back off the main road in the warm island night air... I didn't really mind that this was where I was- because for the first time in a very long time I was actually enjoying my practice and not fighting through it to prove to myself that I still could... It wasn't merely a competition with myself - a physical exercise I was going through the motions doing... It was actually something  that it used to be for me long ago before I forgot how to feel this... It was a moving mediation and a little sacred space where I could let myself lay down and just be.

I walked down the road to the Sundowners bar and ordered a glass of shitty red wine and looked out at the rain dripping off the palm trees and wondered if it had something to do with the fact that I was back in the real tropics... The climate where my body feels it's best.

In San Diego I practice at a studio called "Yoga Tropics" which is ironic because I have a strong aversion to going to class there. Although I do like it and as a seasoned yogi and certified yoga instructor I can appreciate that it's a good class... It's just not something that pulls me or draws me in.  But here in the real tropics, I am left dreaming of returning to that beautiful evening class bathed in the red light.

Unfortunately I am working in the afternoon/evening this week at the clinic so I can't make it back to the class again, but maybe that's for the best. I love to hold that image in my head in its perfection instead of going back and finding flaws or having it be not as beautiful as I imagine it to be now.

I have 9 more days on this island.

I absolutely love the work here. The clinic is a truly phenomenal operation that I am so grateful to be a part of- especially after spending last week working in the hospital... What a dichotomy.

This is the hospital:

This is the clinic:

Maybe a photo doesn't do it justice.

The hospital is scary and uncomfortable- broken and rotting.

The clinic is a beautiful haven of health for the people who are willing to wait and come to see a slew of amazing people who are here to volunteer their services and help. A full pharmacy, a lab, pediatrics, OBGYN and a loving environment.

Although I really love the work here,  I am aching to get home and see my family, Carlos and my doggies. I think I knew I would be homesick when I was leaving SD last month.

Something inside of my is shifting.

I know... I know that everything inside all of us is ALWAYS shifting- but since Monday (Jan 5th) I really feel something shaking free that's been hanging there blocking something else for a long time.

I can't explain what it is...

And honestly- my mind always skips to malaria- and the time I spent after my infection that left me in a haze and feeling lost, isolated inside myself and a stranger in my skin all at once.

My vipassana a year and a half ago broke through something bigger and maybe this is a residual chunk of something else- an emotional blockage- or else just something I can't define or understand.

Nevertheless I feel clearer and fuller. More whole since that hour and a half spent on my yoga mat- and I want to remember this- carry this with me into 2015.

I didn't set any resolutions of NYE. I didn't even do my ceremony where I draw a circle on a piece of paper and write inside the circle what I want to manifest for myself and outside the circle I'm ready to release for the year...

So here I am on Jan 7th- back at my favorite coffee shop I walked 1.6 miles up a winding road to get to...

And I'm setting my intentions:

I intend to exercise every day because it makes my body, mind and soul feel right.

Even if it's just some squats and climbers and crunches in my bedroom in the morning... Or else running on the beach... Or taking a long walk... Or swimming with dad... Or taking a dance class or spinning class. I need to do something every day of this year.

I intend to practice yoga. 

(Note: this is not a part of the exercise intention because that's not what this is... I intend to PRACTICE YOGA- something that is different to what I've been doing the last few years. It's something I used to do and I know what i'm talking about)

I intend to maintain my 4.0 GPA and get clear about my path forward towards medical school or else PA school.

That's all. Exercise/yoga/academics.

Everything else in my life right now is really good and just how I want it.

I love my job, I love my living situation, and I love having such a sweet man in my life who loves me back and treats me so well.

Here's to 2015

Abre su corazón

Life in Honduras... I'm nearly halfway done with my stint here... It's been a beautiful mix of clinic work, scuba diving, walking through jungle roads, soaking in the tropical sun, and playing at night with travelers who have wandered their way to this same island in this same moment and find themselves ordering the same dollar rum drinks in paper cups under bamboo roofs.

I used to love people much more than I do now. I can remember a time when I'd be sitting in this cafe that I just walked for 35 minutes up a winding, crumbling road to get to, and I'd be looking around at the people here falling In love with them and thinking how wonderful they all are... But somehow I've become more cynical. I see myself mirrored in the obnoxious girl who can't sit still, pointing out locations on a map and declaring proudly which countries she's "done"- as though she graced it with her presence, ticked it off a list, crumpled and threw it away when she was done with it.

I remember when my fixation with traveling began and I was convinced that it was absolutely necessary that I went everywhere and saw everything.

It was a juvenile, wide eyed, somewhat ignorant way to live and travel.

I feel the same way about "traveling" and "travelers"... Being those folks with the the backpacks with patches from all the countries they've seen and ticked off some kind of list... I feel the same way as I do about yoga and yogis these days.

I was so obsessed with yoga... Believed that I was one of the chosen ones who was progressing down a secret, occult path. I was in touch with something that others couldn't touch. Mastering poses and balancing while my muscles shook meant that I was a true yogi.

Now I see "yogis" walking around proudly rocking their tank tops with decidedly spiritual symbology and namaste-ing at everything and I roll my eyes.

Something makes me look at these young yogis and travelers and think "they're missing the point"... But that's not fair.

We all walk down our paths at different speeds and see the world through different lenses that we swap and switch out constantly.

Just because I've retired a certain lens doesn't mean I need to reject it and balk at it.  I need to heck myself and not be so judgey.

San Diego has really changed me.

I think this is symptomatic of more than one thing happening in my life- I am in school which is gradually pulling me closer and closer to science and further from the mystical. Just calling something a "mystery" is no longer an acceptable answer. I have no interest in filling God in the gaps.

Descartes copped out if you ask me.

I want proof, scientific method, reasoning, and explanations.

Another thing pulling me further from that open heartedness I used to prance across the planet with is I think due to the people of San Diego.

I have had such a difficult time over the last two years accepting San Diegans as "my people." 

Simply, they aren't.

I find myself constantly disappointed by the energy and mindset of the people my age who chose to live in San Diego.

Until I met my Carlos, I was totally disillusioned by the population in SD besides my parents and the Singh/Rhodes family who I work for and feel like they are my family anyway.

Otherwise I have met almost no-one who I feel a soul connection to which has made me cynical and pessimistic.

My heart is very open with the kids, my family and my boyfriend- but otherwise I walk around rather closed up.

I read a quote this morning and loved it. It reminded me how I feel now- after spending a day in the sunshine with the volunteers here who are absolutely my PEOPLE! 

"When the heart opens, we forget ourselves and the world pours in: this world and also the invisible world of meaning that sustains everything that was and ever shall be. When the heart opens, everything matters, and this world and the next become one and the same."

I hope I can remind myself of this often.