Spiritual Awakening Journey: Pt. XII - Unraveling

After I said goodbye to my home in Tulum, I returned to the states for one week to sort, clear and pack up all of my belongings for storage. And to say goodbye to my childhood home, recently sold to another family. On the last night I quickly finished packing my bags for what would become my year of travel across Latin America. I left my childhood home once more, this time, it would be the last.

I flew back to the Yucatan Penninsula and spent one month touring over 15+ Mayan archaelogical sites and cenotes across the states of Yucatan and Campeche. I swam with whale sharks, toured the Ruta Puuc, watched the fall equinox sunrise at Dzibilchaltun, cenote-hopped in Homun, and had the grounds of Dzibanche, Calakmul, Edzna and Santa Rosa Xtampak all to myself. I stood on top of ruins thousands of years old, high above large expanses of the jungle canopy, to witness peace and hear the songs of birds. Wandering through the ruins and jungle sancturaries of long-forgotten civilizations of the great and spiritual Maya. It’s already been an amazing first month to my year of travel.

It’s October now and I’m sitting in my apartment in San Cristobal de las Casas, Chiapas, Mexico. I have a two-floor apartment that is filled with sunlight and overlooks a garden courtyard. It’s a few blocks south from calle real de guadalupe and the main plazas. It’s quite chilly here and I’m huddled near the space heater in the upstairs loft. The vibrancy and warmth of the Yucatan peninsula is behind me and I’m feeling a bit drab. I am missing the warmth, humidity and color of my life in Tulum. The air here is cooler and drier than I’m used to. I feel a sense of retreating, drawing inward. But it is fall after all. I suppose it’s time to embrace the change in season and scenery. I have nothing planned after my month in Chiapas as I’m taking it one step at a time. I feel a sense of panic inside wondering what I’m doing here in this cold apartment in Chiapas.

In this restful time, I reconnected with my regular meditation practice after having been on the go for four weeks. I’ve been feeling a call to retreat, rest and process all that has happened. To slow down and do nothing. As the days pass by, the uncertainty grows and I’m feeling less myself than ever. I’m actually not even sure who I am anymore. I don’t know who I am. I don’t know what I’m doing. And I don’t know where I’m going. I feel lost. The intensity of the first cycle of my spiritual awakening process has waned, and now all is quiet and empty. It is the culmination of the unraveling of my old identity and self. And now, I feel like I am nothing and no one. Without a home, on the road with everything I need in a duffel and a small suitcase. The states no longer feels like home. The familiarity of the Yucatan is gone. And now I am just here. Living in the present moment, day by day. Oh how exciting and yet terrifying it all is.

I feel like I am dying inside. It’s a feeling of personal death. A process that began since the end of last year. And now, I’m at the final end of the cycle. The final call to let go. The moment of death in which all disappears, and goes quiet. There is nothing to do, other than just be in the blank space. Winter has come, and I fade into it. I contemplate my final death and sense that it is natural. I unraveled the person I once was, to prepare for re-knitting into the person I am becoming. I die to be re-born, just as nature does every season.

I allow myself to grieve, feel, process. But I also remind myself that death and rebirth is natural. Our form is an iteration of our ancestors, and our souls are iterations of itself. In this lifetime the process of self-actualization is becoming more fully the highest and truest expression of our soul, and aligning it with our manifested physical reality. When we understand our true purpose is to evolve, then we can accept our true nature as natural beings and embrace the seasons and cycles that support our growth. When in a fall and winter cycle, we understand when to let go, when to say goodbye, and when to surrender. We can allow ourselves to unravel who we think we are, unravel what we think we know, unravel what we think we believe. I am understanding that life is one continuous process of knitting, unraveling, and re-knitting. Just like the continuous cycles of death and re-birth. Nothing is ever final and nothing is ever fixed. As soon as something is knit together, it’s time to re-work it. To continuously re-create and refine.