Skip to main content

The shores of soul alignment

Castle of the Moors, Sintra, Portugal

My flight from Lisbon to the US took off leaving behind a mix of red roofs, ancient castles and a piece of my soul. Three months in Europe flew by like a flock of feathers on a breezy sunset: light, colorful, evanescent. I had just experienced one of the most remarkable chapters of my life. Earlier in the year I underwent a major surgery, quit my corporate job and disembarked in the old continent, all in a span of 30 days. Guided by my inner compass, I fulfilled a childhood dream to wonder in faraway shores with no set agenda, choosing destinations on the fly. Dream-like experiences were now forever etched into my skin. Someone wise said that there is something exquisitely powerful to be savored when you create space to step into your dreams, no matter how big or small. It may also come with notes of pungent bittersweetness.

For days post arrival, I was overdosing on a cocktail of feelings that kept me both joyfully smiling and heartbreakingly shedding tears. I was delighted to be home in Texas, finding comfort in the familiar scent of old paint and wood of my townhouse, in reuniting with my husband, in caressing my cat’s velvety fur. I was also grieving the loss of those seashores and mountains that sheltered my solo adventure and hosted a version of me that felt free, empowered, feminine, aligned. Could I bring those qualities to my domestic habitat?

Oyster farm in Cap Ferret, France

As I suckled oysters at a hipster bar, my mind traveled to the oyster farms floating in the silvery waters of Cap Ferret, France. When driving in chaotic traffic, I reminisced magnificent limestone cliffs and turquoise Mediterranean horizons in a road trip in Gozo, Malta. While selecting white asparagus at my local grocer, I could almost inhale the divine lunch on a Danube River cruise in Austria, sweet spring breeze and swan sightings caressing my senses. Easing into the role of adventurer in faraway lands felt a million times easier than morphing back into my old surroundings when I had peeled off a significant layer of my identity. 

Xlendi Cliffs in Gozo, Malta

My original plan had always been to take the entire year off, but once surrounded by the familiar, I didn’t take long to dive into old patterns of harsh self-judgement. Calling my wanderings overindulgent and listening to the criticism of those who couldn’t understand my longings, I froze in uncertainty. I thought that version of me had hanged from the Charles bridge in Prague months earlier. Some parts of us are hard to die, often the ones that want to keep us safe. Often the ones that want to keep us small.

Danube River cruise, Wachau Valley, Austria

On week two of re-entry, travel memories still flourishing but now with subdued intensity, I re-acquainted with meditation. In a moment of silence, I saw the eagle that followed me in the Sierra Nevada mountains in Spain and heard a voice, on and off like fireflies on a summer night: “Go on! Roam free, like your true nature!” I tried to quiet it with rational arguments, but my time in Europe had honed my mindfulness muscles. I was able to stop self-judgment in its tracks and trust my intuition. Within a month of re-entry, I was once again boarding a plane, this time to the blue waters of the Adriatic Sea in Croatia, back to the wilderness of my dreams, back to the shores of soul alignment.

Flying to the shores of soul alignment

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Quarantine

In that apocalyptic spring of 2020 when the world stopped on its axes and humankind moved indoors, when hoards of humans caught themselves diving and drowning into the depths of their fears and souls, Delia realized that her marriage had been pulverized from the outside in and the inside out. It was the end of romance, the end of lust, the end of tiny gestures that could keep alive the flame that brought them together. Somewhere between raising child number two, the money that never came, her morning breath and his overconsumption of television, their story was the clone of all other marriages that flatten into a dumpster of colorless tediousness. Now it was only the two of them and their silence, if not for the occasional sound of someone spraying disinfectant in the boxes that came in the mail. She didn’t even have the strength to create an escapist illusion. “Live in the present,” she kept hearing from her colleagues over Zoom. So she did. Her present was now a pan of bori

Past life regression: what I learned from my previous death

The author in an alley in Pienza, Italy, December 2018 The polar vortex had swallowed the city. A thin blanket of snow folded over Houston, another abnormality in the oddity of the current times. Day three of on and off electricity, water shortages, the chilling of bones and the cloak of the COVID-19 plague still omnipresent. I found warmth in the crevices: the soft, luxurious fur of my cat oblivious to everything, green chili soup leftovers, Internet humor. Then another opening, this time in my chest: I was ready for a past life regression session. After months exploring the subject as a path to self-knowledge, I chose a sub-freezing afternoon to descend into a spiritual ladder that took me to the underworld of long lost memories.   

I spun the globe and am taking off | Career Break Series

   Studying, dreaming, vision boarding with my little sister in the 1980s (I'm on the left) I vividly remember the turquoise-colored table globe spinning, my sister and I hovering our tiny skinny fingers over it until the rotation stopped and they landed on a country. I loved learning their names, but most of all, I loved to imagine myself exploring those faraway lands, so exotic, so unreachable. We would then grab scissors, glue, a stack of mom’s fashion magazines and meticulously look for models with outfits that represented the countries of our spin the globe game. Once we found the perfect ensemble, we would bond the images to a notebook and with colorful cursive letters write the location and occasion. In my imaginary “Summer afternoon in Valencia, Spain” I was a gorgeous lady wearing a beautifully embroidered white skirt, a matching top and a straw hat. In real life I was seven, eight years old. I didn’t know back then that this game was a vision board for what would occur al