Spiritual Awakening Journey: II - The Opening

It had been only two weeks after the decision, and I was off on a textiles trip to Guatemala. There, I would learn traditional backstrap weaving from Mayan womens collectives across the region. The trip to Guatemala was my opening. It was the first time in a very long time that I gave myself what I needed. Perhaps, yes, an escape, but also an opportunity to glimpse the larger world beyond what I was going through. To get out of my head and go experience the world, and to remember what it feels like to be alive and inspired. It planted the seeds for me to explore the concepts of cycles, roots, ancestry, shamanism, and Mayan culture. It helped me feel, learn, and experience something new and different. It was a glimpse of what it felt like to be myself again. Two weeks after that, I left for another trip to Oaxaca to learn floor loom weaving from Zapotec collectives. Through those two experiences, I re-immersed myself into the world. A glimmer of my inner self started to emerge and it liked what it saw. And it wanted more.

I returned to the U.S. after Oaxaca, already wanting to fly back to Mexico. I still was largely suppressing my pain and kept it to myself. I felt like I was going through a hurricane storm alone and wondered if I’d make it out alive on the other side. By the time the holidays rolled around I was forced to begin sitting in the reality of my situation. I barely got through the holidays and was already researching coastal towns in Mexico. On December 30th, out of the blue, an acquaintance recommended a metaphysical center that held workshops and classes. I looked it up and it happened to be just 10-minutes from my house. I felt compelled to give it a try, even though I had little interest in spirituality at the time. And in the new year I entered my first class on source energy channeling. I had also started meditation out of sheer desperation because I couldn’t sleep at night. A million thoughts and worries raced through my mind, keeping me up at all hours of the night and into the early mornings. Like a television that just wouldn’t quit. One morning, something called me to just sit in the corner of my bedroom facing a window. I probably managed to sit there for 5 minutes before I gave up. But despite how uncomfortable and hard it was, I just felt like I had to continue trying. I never gave up, and little by little I would sit in the corner of my bedroom to sit with my million thoughts.