The past 5 years I’ve spent time on a bay. A beautiful paradise island that is built into
hills, in the jungle. The first few
years my personal inner work on this island was deep and powerful. I had an intense drive to move inward, be
alone for a really long time, put up boundaries of solid steel castle walls in
order to heal deep wounds in my body, heart and soul. Every morning when I woke up I would take a
hike up a steep jungle path in the hills, over to the next beach. Some days I would simply trek up and back
down to connect with nature. I needed to
move, to be alone, to hear silence, crickets, monkeys, wind, nothing, my
thoughts, no thoughts. I felt a stirring
inside which at times moved me like anxiety often could; wake me out of bed,
heart pounding, yearning to move fast and hard without stopping. Up in the jungle I felt freedom, which is
what I longed for.
My life until the jungle was constricted, small,
limited. I was sheltered from the
choices available in life. I was a
prisoner of my body, due to the chronic autoimmune disease from which I
suffered since the age of one. Society’s
expectations of me as a player in the system and conforming in every aspect of
life. The deeper into the jungle my
journey, the more I was able to observe the labels, boxes, judgements,
expectations, pressure, prison of the mind and body and allow all to dissolve. When I stopped in the Western world, San
Francisco to be precise, I observed walls of this systematic mind/ body/ soul
prison, a white constricting maze sliding down into my mind once again creating
walls that bound my soul’s essence, a barrier from truth.
The jungle was one place where these walls lifted. I felt freedom, layers shedding. Closer to my source, I took a glimpse into my
essence. I wanted more and journeyed as
much as possible into this foreboding, magical jungle. It whispered, echoing my patterned thoughts
as they came peeling away.
This
journeying was an emptying for me, my version of vipassana meditation, unable
to sit still with powerful energy pulsing through my nadis. Given the strong environment from which I
came, my healing path has been unique.
I’ve been blasted with pharmaceuticals and chemicals as a research
subject in the wacky Western Medical world.
I look like the embodiment of health but this vehicle has been through
more than most will ever go through in their entire lives.
Fast forward to today, I decided to face the jungle
again. My past few trips to this
gorgeous, magical Thailand Bay, I’ve noticed resistance when considering the
trek into my beloved jungle. This is a
place that has brought me to my core essence, helped me see my truth, guided me
to my path. It is a place where I have
screamed, cried, laughed, shared my most private thoughts. I am completely myself and completely
vulnerable in the jungle and it is OK. I
am OK, I am beautiful, I am accepted, I am powerful, I am strong, I am a
goddess, I am a fairy, I am anything and everything I want to be and nothing at
the same time. I am one.
New Year’s time last year I trekked through this jungle with
my 3 acro yoga/ designer/ spiritual brothers and sister. That particular trek was exceptionally
magical. We played electronic music on
speakers while bounding through the rainy path, a new jungle path that I did
not know. Arriving on the other side we
hopped on an open-aired truck to return.
My friend Damien was holding onto the back of the truck while standing. He was swinging his legs up and down, kind of
coming off of the truck as the truck clung tightly around the cliffs between
hilly jungle and rocky ocean. I’m not
sure if it was movement of energy, the crystal island, the bond I had with my
friends, or magic in the air, but in that moment I was able to visibly see
Damien’s aura: a golden color with the image of Native American arrows coming
out of his dreaded hair. The pieces in
his hair were alive and moving with bow and arrow-like shapes. Freedom, bliss, magic, friendship, expansion,
spiritual awakening have all come out of the beloved jungle.
Tomorrow is a full moon, and energy is extremely powerful
and intense. Everyone I talk to can feel
it and we are each having our own experiences, many of which are on the darker,
moodier side. My day in particular began
beautifully but moody. I woke up with
dread at the thought of trekking through the jungle. “Do I have to? I don’t want to. Wait, it’s raining outside; yes! It will be too wet to trek”. Six this morning I watched a beautiful
rainstorm in front of the sunrise, my mind churning with anti-jungle trekking
thoughts. Conspiring to skip out and
take the boat to the other side of the mountain, I practiced yoga until
Kapotasana, the crux for many in Intermediate Series of Ashtanga Yoga. This intense back bend caused an emotional valve to burst in my heart
and I began hysterically crying on my yoga mat. The convulsive crying morphed into laughter. As energy moved I found that my hesitation to
trek was simply an emotional block. I
successfully cleared the blockage that felt heavy, exhausting, like I was sick
and ready to get back in bed.
With hesitation I asked a couple of friends if they wanted
to join me on my trek. MY trek. I was planning to wear headphones, to be in
my own world for 1.5 hours connecting with the jungle enjoying a
meditation. In the end no one joined me,
as it was meant to be. I was meant to be
up there alone, facing my fear, creative juices flowing, walking into my own
adventure, faced with myself, my mind, my skills, my ability to keep calm and
drawn metaphors between the jungle path and life to keep me going as adrenaline
kicked in and my survival was in question.
The path I have trekked for many years was a road which, at
the top, cut into the jungle. I knew
it backwards and forwards. There was a particular place at the top of
the hill where the road cut into the jungle and you could find your way onto
the next beach. Last year when I
attempted to take this path after a 2 year gap in time, I was blocked by a
fence that was built since my previous trek.
Trepidatiously (?) I turned around to find my way to a truck that could
drive me to the next beach because I had been hiking for over 2 hours and
sunset was closing in. This year I knew
not to attempt that path and simply use the jungle path like everyone else. There are negatives to the jungle path: it’s
less clear, there are more animals, greater chances you can get lost because
it’s not marked the entire way through, mosquitoes annihilate you if you stop
moving for 2 seconds, if you do get lost no one is passing by in a truck to
save you. Knowing all of this, I had my
friend Simon draw a “map” of the jungle trek for me. The map helped a bit but was vague given that
no one can precisely map out the jungle.
I was being brave and my typical Taurus self, (aka stupid), trekking to Haad Rin solo. Haad Rin is a scary enough place to be in general and especially around the full moon; the gap year, beer guzzling full moon partiers in their "I attended the Full Moon Party" fluorescent T Shirts, prepared for unadulterated hedonism. This trip was necessary in order for me to make visa run arrangements, and so I could adventure through the jungle that moves me in so many beautiful ways. Strangely enough, as I set off on my journey into the heart
of the jungle expecting to experience old feelings of freedom, expansion and
bliss, all I felt was fear. Fear overwhelmed
me as I headed into the jungle by myself.
Generalized fear about the jungle and the animals that I typically look
forward to hearing and seeing. Interesting. The thought followed, “whatever you think
about comes into your life. If you
think, ‘FLOW’, there will be flow. If
you think, ‘FEAR’, bad things will happen”.
Intuition spoke loudly, and a path that was semi-clear held many
metaphors for life. Did I know this was
THE path with the bottles marking it? I
had no idea. The jungle is terribly
large for a tiny girl like me. Why did
the jungle suddenly feel so enormous whereas previously it’s felt comforting,
calming, like a space that could hold me and all of my wounds? Fear encircled me as I stood at the foot of
the bottle-marked path, deciding whether
or not to head into the heart of the jungle.
Yes, no, yes, no? “Well, I hiked
all the way up a huge road in the heat, might as well get over to the other
city where I need to actually purchase the boat ticket I need”, I thought to
myself. Time to swallow my fear and make
the journey. Put on the iPod, flowy,
funky music to accompany me into wonderland and I was off, fear and confidence
dancing in a fierce flow. Fear winning
as it whirled through my mind and body,
the music seemed irrelevant and became a bit distracting and
unnerving. I was walking a path that was
vaguely familiar but pretty much unknown.
It had few to no markings and all I could do was trust my intuition to
guide me in the right direction. At any
moment there were multiple directions to take.
Only one would lead me on the right path. I could easily walk off path and get lost in
the jungle. Easily. There were places I remembered from previous
treks and a couple of points marked by paint or ties on trees which helped ease
my fear, but I was pretty amped up.
Aware of how much the fear was impeding my journey, it was
challenging to remain present. I
couldn’t quite remember which path I had come from if I turned around which is
unusual for me. Usually I look back and
can retrace my steps one step at a time, inch by inch. All I could do was keep my head down, watch
where I was stepping and intuitively follow the path I believed to be the right
one. At one point I crossed over a
river, thinking I vaguely remembered doing the same thing last year. Once I crossed the river I was at a complete
loss where to go next. It seemed as if
the path disappeared right in front of me.
I reached the end and could not see a way forward. This has happened to me in life; I walk a
strong path guided by intuition. This
path remains wide and clear the more I flow and the less fear and doubt creep
in. Sometimes alternative paths are
presented and I consider them. They
confuse me, I question my solid, strong path, wonder if I should be taking this
alternate path. Will that lead me in the
“right” direction? Will that take me to
my destination? Sometimes I am on a
strong, clear path. My intuitive voice
inside is guiding me in the right direction, but then I reach a point in life
that I simply don’t know where to go next.
During today’s jungle trek, there was only one way out of the jungle
(following the “marked” path) and one way to get the ticket I needed to get in
order to extend my visa. In life, my
path is not always as clear. Choices, opportunities,
and our truth is not necessarily black and white. It’s possible my soul’s purpose is black and
white I’m simply not always as aware of it as I am of the boat ticket
story.
After crossing the river today I got caught up in fear. The fear confused my purpose and my
direction. Flow was not there. I kept walking but soon realized I was in too
deep and possibly a bit lost. I turned
around to back track and became aware that I had been completely out of my body
until that moment. So caught up in fear,
I was not present while trekking. I was
unable to figure out where I had come from.
I tried to back track and find the river. Wow, that didn’t go as I anticipated. All of a sudden I realized I was scaling down
the side of the mountain enveloped in the jungle. I had a couple of moments of being completely
overwhelmed and terrified that I was definitely lost and might be stuck and
lost potentially forever. Maybe I was
lost for hours. Maybe I was going to
twist my ankle or fall and crack open my head.
Why was I trekking alone, again?
Who’s idea was this? Was I such a
bad ass jungle goddess that I had to take this trek, was this a safe idea? I don’t think these thoughts are helping the
cause. OK, keep looking for the river
where I came from so I can quietly exit and find the road. Sliding down the mountain I found some
boulders but they were certainly not on the river. I was overwhelmed by the size of them. Larger than me, I had to climb up and over a
few of these boulders to get perspective.
The river was nowhere to be found.
This was definitely not the moment to conquer my fear of rock climbing
but it seemed I had no choice. If I fell
I would be badly hurt. There were slimy
leaves covering the boulders. Adrenaline
pumping through my body, somehow I managed to find my way over the rocks and shimmy
back to the mountainside. OK, back on
safe ground but still nowhere near safe zone or the path. I had to scale my way back up the hill where I
came from, find my boulder/ river landmark in order to back track another way
and hopefully find this river so I could once again find the path. I was completely disoriented and quite scared
at this point, a good 30 minutes of being lost in the jungle and contemplating
calling a friend. Would the phone
work? What will happen if I can’t get
through to my friend? Oh goodness I
can’t chance my mental stability to even try.
I must make the attempt to get out of here myself a few more times
before looking at my phone. I must
remain strong. Turn off the music. Go back.
Breathe. Calm yourself. You will be OK. Find the river. You will get out. You will find the path and get back to the
road. You have no choice.
And so I did. Just as
I let go, in the sense that I decided I turn around and find the original
entrance to the jungle from where I had come, all of a sudden as I to turn
around to look for the river, voila, there were signs for the path! No freaking way! Well, I guess this means that I continue
on. This was a clear sign to me that I
am on the path, that I need to stop freaking out, get present, step out of fear
and into flow and all will be all right.
If my words resonate as true for you, I encourage you to speak your truth in the form of comments, emails, contact via my website, Facebook, twitter, any connection that resonates.
Dare to be empowered. Awaken to your truth. Join the P.R.A.Y. Journey
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