When the Student is Ready, the Teacher Appears

Rumi do no seek loveIf you read this blog regularly, then you know that I’ve struggled over the last couple of years with living on my own. The loneliness tends to creep in around dinner time and sticks around until I fall asleep or numb it out with one of my three go-to additions (TV, food, booze). I’ve tried to remedy this unpleasant feeling in other, more productive ways – meditation, working and playing hard (basically keeping busy), and working with two wonderful Huichol shamans (more on that soon) – but I remain susceptible to its pangs more often than I care to admit. Nevertheless, I think it’s a basic human necessity to share your life with someone with whom you share a special intimate bond.

However, a recent sojourn into that tricky realm brought to my attention that, more often than not, there is a barrier between me and the rest of you that makes having a healthy relationship difficult, if not impossible. It’s nothing unique. I’m pretty sure there are others who have constructed, knowingly or not, a wall between them and the rest of us too. I picture mine as constructed of red brick, old clay bricks, crumbling to create a substantial pile of red rubble on the ground near its base. Large chunks of mortar are missing and the corners of the walls are uneven and lower than the rest of the wall. It’s old and failing, but it still separates me from you. Sometimes I can’t even see or hear you on the other side.

Your wall might be made of stone, concrete, straw bails, or maybe it’s just a sheet of plastic that you can pull down in one fell swoop, but it’s there, separating us, keeping us from connecting. You say I’m just writing in metaphor, but I say it may as well be real because there is nothing more powerful in keeping you from what you want than FEAR.

Fear keeps me bottled up too often. I don’t write more because I’m paralyzed by fear. I don’t reach out to more people because I’m afraid. And fear keeps me from expressing who I really am, in so many ways, far too often.

The blessing is that whereas I’ve been oblivious to its influence on my behavior for most of my life, I see the fear now, recognize it and my attempts at subverting it. I see now how I’ve hurt myself, lost sleep, and a lot of hair trying to outrun the fear. A lot of my actions – like surfing hard, stressing over my body image, and needing to know all the answers – are just me trying to cover up my intense fear that you’ll discover I’m imperfect and therefore unacceptable and unlovable. I’m so afraid of rejection that I do back flips in an attempt to prove to you that I deserve your love and attention.

The funny thing is that I had to be rejected to see how much my actions are motivated by my keen desire to avoid that very rejection.

I fell for someone recently, and as is typical for me, I fell hard, fully, unabashedly, and, it turns out, foolhardily. At first he seemed to be falling too – we were two people falling into the fuzzy abyss of love with big smiles on our faces, holding hands on the way down. We seemed to read each others minds and synchronicities abounded when we were together. For the first couple of weeks I couldn’t walk down the beach without finding heart-shaped rocks. Not just “a” heart-shaped rock, but rock after rock. One of them, about an inch across and pink, was almost perfect. My interpretation? Our love was divinely orchestrated.

But then he let go of my hand and I kept falling.

I fell for a while before I realized that I was on my own in feeling the way I wanted so badly to feel and to be felt about. I was pretty deep down in that hole when I finally  accepted I was alone down there with a goofy grin on my face, holding on to nothing.

That was hard. It felt a lot like someone kicked me in the stomach with steel-toed boots. I guess it was the impact of hitting the hard reality waiting for me at the bottom of my free-fall into unrequited love that knocked the wind out of me. What really happened was over the course of several weeks the other person’s actions (like his reaction when I gave him that pink heart-shaped rock) and what those actions said about how he felt sank in, and I had to admit to myself, “He’s just not that into you.” Yeah, no one wants to hear that, even if it’s your very own heart gently sitting you down and telling you like it is for your own good.

I cried a lot that evening. I took a walk down the beach as the sun was setting and felt the hurt and the anger bubbling up to the surface despite my attempts to keep them down. It all came out in a big blubbering, tear- and regret-filled emotional waterfall. I was angry with myself for being such a fool, for jumping into the deep end of a relationship once again, for wanting it to be what I’ve waited for so badly that I rushed in without giving things time to cure, without giving either of us time to discern whether this was the path forward or not. As the anger dissipated, it was replaced by sadness as I felt, once again, the hole in my heart where loneliness lives.

“Oh, it’s you again,” I said with resignation. “So, tell me, when are you going to leave for good?”

“As soon as you learn to look for love within.”

“I’m working on it,” I said, looking up at a sky filled with so much beauty I knew my thoughts were heard elsewhere.

This experience taught me something that I’ve been unaware of until now. It turns out I’m scared a lot. I’m running scared shitless of what other people think, afraid of people’s judgment, and especially their rejection. My whole life story is driven by avoiding rejection. I’ve said it before, and someone wiser probably said it long before, fear is a poor motivator. It’s a lot like running from your own shadow. You can never outrun it. And I’ve tired of running.

The good news is that somehow during this experience, I realized that this heart of mine is full of love. As I ran over in my mind what happened and how things had fizzled so fast, I considered my actions in both romantic and other relationships and saw that they are more often than not caring, giving, and kind – all demonstrations of love. Gratitude, appreciation, and empathy are all rooted in love as well and these are emotions I experience daily. This made me realize that the fear that has driven me so often is not so much solid like a wall, but merely a smokescreen hiding the love that has always been right here inside me. To transform it and pass to the other side where we can all connect, I just need to turn that love inwards and recognize that I deserve my own loving embrace as much as anyone else does. So far, I mostly know this intellectually, but little by little I’m beginning to feel it in my soul.

thinklessfeelmore“Think less, feel more” was one of the many wise things my lover-turned-friend-and-teacher said to me during our courtship.

I can feel it right here in my heart, that unconditional love that I keep looking for elsewhere…I’m getting close, so very close.


One of the miraculous sunsets we’ve been treated to lately.




Saturday, the 27th of February, began like any other day. I sat down in front of the computer sipping my tea, a halo of sleepy haze slowly lifting from my brain. The radio chirped in the background as my eyes began to focus more clearly on the screen in front of me.

Cutting into my morning reverie like a serrated knife, I heard the urgent voice of a reporter say “8.8 magnitude earthquake”…and then “tsunami warnings are being issued…” Any remnants of brain fog were blasted out of the grey matter as I focused on the voice. “I repeat. There has been an earthquake in Chile. The seventh strongest earthquake ever recorded…fatalities are being reported. The Pacific Tsunami Warning Center is issuing a tsunami warning for the greater Pacific Ocean…”

My heart began to race and images of the 2004 Indian Ocean Tsunami flashed across my memory. I turned up the radio and searched the internet for specifics. Then I noticed I had a voicemail. It was my parents calling, worried that we were in danger. Two time zones ahead of us, they’d heard the news before we’d even crawled out of bed. I tried to return their call, but couldn’t get through.

Finding information on the internet proved to be difficult. Then emails started coming through from concerned friends and neighbors who were out of the country. One pointed to the Weather Channel web site as a source of information. The radio was repeating the same report over and over and only discussed the Hawaii Islands in terms of who was at risk. The reporters even admitted they focused on Hawaii because it was a US state. I still hadn’t heard anthing about Mexico. “Damn xenophobic American News stations!!” The same was true of the Weather Channel web site. The lower half of the peninsula was completely cut off on the map they posted of the North American west coast illustrating areas at risk. I finally found the American National Oceanographic and Atmospheric Association’s Pacific Tsunami Warning Center web site: the warning level meter at the top of the page indicated that the severity of the tsunami was predicted to be HIGH.

My heart beat faster. I clicked on a link to the detailed written warning.




And then among a long list of geographical locations and times that the tsunami could be expected, I found what I had been looking for, but hoped not to find –


My heart amped it up a notch. And then I thought “1749? Is that Zulu time? What?!” I mean, WHEN exactly is that?

It was 9:35 as I hurriedly looked up the conversion, but in my panicked state of mind I screwed up the calculation. Initially I thought it would be bearing down on us in minutes. “Shit!!” Then I redid the calculation and estimated a 12:49pm arrival. That gave us three hours to prepare. Immediately, I thought of all our friends and neighbors, the ranchers living on and near the beaches all around the peninsula. And there were several surfers and construction workers camped four miles down the road at Santa Elena on the beach. They probably didn’t have radios and I knew they didn’t have access to the internet. Did they know this was coming? Someone had to let them know.

My heart began to beat at a rate that I figured must be unsustainable and I started to feel a little light-headed. I quickly threw together a warning email including the text from the PTWC and sent it to everyone I knew living in the area. Then I started scurrying around the house like a mouse putting up stores for winter in the middle of a snowstorm. It was taking all my powers of concentration to keep my emotions in check and I wasn’t sure what I should be doing. After all, it was my very first tsunami warning. And all the while, in the back of my head, there was a battle raging on – a duel between two voices that said I needed to prepare for the worst, on the one hand, and a sense, call it intuition, that it was nothing and I needed to relax lest I have a heart attack.

Like the calm intuitive voice in the stormy space between my ears, Tony was unmoved, unfazed, completely unconcerned. And that just made me more frantic, feeling the need to move him into action. Now it was a duel of two against one, them against the voice that said it was better to be safe than sorry, better to take precautions than to be dead wrong. I tried these platitudes out on Tony. If they moved him, I couldn’t tell. I restrained myself from grabbing him by the shoulders and screaming in his face, “DON’T YOU CARE IF WE LIVE OR DIE?!! DO SOMETHING!!”

I decided I needed to do something productive and announced I was going to Santa Elena to warn the ranchers, workers and surfers. Trying hard to conceal his eyes as they rolled into the upper recesses of his skull, Tony handed me a radio as I jumped on the ATV. I finally felt like I had somewhere to put this energy that was overwhelming all my faculties with a sense of impending doom. A few hundred meters down the road it occurred to me to stop to check that I had enough gas to get there and back. Phew! The tank was full.

The first ranch I stopped at sits in an arroyo (dry river bed) right next to the sea, totally exposed. The women I spoke to probably thought I was out of my gourd. As I explained what could happen, they gradually came around. I left before confirming that they were able to convince their husbands that they needed to move to higher ground because some gringa loca said so.

Closer to Santa Elena, Fernando, the local surfing rancher, had heard something from the guys camping on the beach. I found them gathered on a rise by the roadside, all their belongings packed into their vehicles. They wanted to know if I thought they were safe on the small hillock they were standing on just above and about 50 meters from the sea. “They are telling people to get 100 feet above sea level,” I reported. When they pressed me if I thought that was necessary, I told them I was out of my league (I’m from Ontario, Canada for God’s sake!), but that I thought it was probably safer to be higher up. A couple of them nodded agreement, but they stayed right where they were.

I continued south down the coast. Explaining the situation to Felix the foreman, I began to notice the sea level in the bay behind him drop. It was 10:45. In a matter of minutes, the bay emptied of water. Rocks and reefs were exposed that in eight years of surfing this spot I’d never seen before. It was like somewhere some godhead pulled a plug in the bottom of the Sea of Cortez, as though it were a gargantuan bathtub. And then, before I could mouth the word “tsunami,” it turned and started rushing back in. Like the tide in fast-forward. That really got my heart beating. The words:


flashed through my head. I told Felix and made haste to my next stop. Returning Northward up the coast, the surfers stopped me to ask if I’d seen it. They were excited and amazed, giddy. Again I repeated the warning about the possibility of the next wave being larger. But as we stood there it started again. We watched as the sea level dropped, and again, it turned and came back in, all in a matter of minutes. I’d seen enough and wanted to get home. I still wasn’t convinced that this was the least of what we would see that day.

Back at home by 12:30pm, unsure, amped up, I convinced Tony to humor me and we made plans to go up the hill to the guest house to have lunch. All our preparations made, I was about to head up the hill when the voice on the radio reported “the threat is past for the area around Cabo San Lucas where open ocean buoys registered a tsunami wave of 1.1 foot.”

Only 1.1 foot??? I pondered the reality that a tiny wave generated by a powerful earthquake off of Chile had produced the dramatic changes in sea level we’d all witnessed that morning. While it may not have been life threatening, it was nevertheless a dramatic display of the power of nature to change the course of our lives. I considered how things might have been different had conditions and circumstances been altered.

The difference in magnitude of the Indian Ocean earthquake and this one were not all that great. According to Wikipedia, seismologists estimate that the earthquake was so powerful that it shortened the length of the day by 1.26 microseconds and moved the earth’s axis of rotation by 3 inches. Had the earthquake occurred in shallower water or had the tremor been sustained longer, the power of the tsunami generated would have been substantially greater.

At 2pm, as I felt the adrenalin begin to wear off, a massage therapist arrived for the appointment I’d scheduled earlier in the week and had forgotten in the midst of the morning’s melee. I lay down on her table and did my best to relax. As she began working out one of several knots that had taken up residence in my shoulder, oblivious, she pronounced, “you’re unusually tense today.”

For detailed information on the 2010 Chile Earthquake and its Tsunami CLICK HERE.


Lunatic Love

Certain things are universally true. At the beginning and end of every day humans are all looking for love and would all like for that love to be unconditional. A true love that accepts us exactly “as is”, blemishes (physical or otherwise) and all. We may look in different places, objects and people for this perfect love, but the fact that we are, all of us, looking for love of one kind or another would be difficult to dispute.

Ultimately, we are all residents of the bargain bin of love.

So many people spend so long looking for it that when it finally appears shock and wonder take hold and they’re not quite sure what to do now that they’ve realized their dream. Doubt sets in almost immediately. Is this really it? Or am I imagining “it”?

Once the initial honeymoon period “life is so completely unbelievable grand” subsides, contentment and doubt do a back and forth dance of messing with the mind. The mind, mind you, not the heart. If the love was true to begin with the heart always knows it and the mind just gets in there and tries to make a mess of things. Even before this period though, when things are still relatively new and intense, there is a sense, gained from prior experience, that maybe this too could all fall apart into discontentment, resentment and finally revulsion. Fear plays its game with your mind.

Fear resides in the mind. Love lives in the heart.

New love has inspired songwriters as long as they’ve been singing them. David Bowie’s Heroes, is a favorite. Failed, crumbled and destroyed love has probably informed many more. Achy Brakey Heart by Billy Ray Cyrus would be one of the least favorites. But few songs address with such alacrity as the group Cake what goes on in the minds of many as their love matures, solidifies. As we become more comfortable with one another we let it all hang out, risking that the romance will be lost. Romance is not love, but can the loss of one mean the death of the other? As the song suggests, to love madly, to love without reserve and without the interference of the mind may just be the ticket.

Love You Madly

I don’t want to wonder
If this is a blunder
I don’t want to worry whether
We’re gonna stay together
‘Till we die

I don’t want to jump in
Unless this music’s thumping
All the dishes rattle in the cupboards
When the elephants arrive

I want to love you madly
I want to love you now
I want to love you madly, way
I want to love you, love you
Love you madly

I don’t want to fake it
I just want to make it
The ornaments look pretty
But they’re pulling down the branches
Of the Tree

I don’t want to think about it
I don’t want to talk about it
When I kiss your lips
I want to sink down to the bottom
Of the sea

I want to love you madly
I want to love you now, yeah
I want to love you madly, way
I want to love you, love you
Love you madly

I don’t want to hold back
I don’t want to slip down
I don’t want to think back to the one thing that I know I
Should have done

I don’t want to doubt you
Know everything about you
I don’t want to sit across the table from you
Wishing I could run

I want to love you madly
I want to love you now
I want to love you madly, way
I want to love you, love you
Love you madly