Tag Archives: story

A Comedy Of Errors

The way pizza night unfolded was brilliant. Like a comedy of errors, the Universe put on a play last night! First, I met my Goddess sister. I’ll call her Conscious. She recognized me as her Soul Sister, and introduced me to her Guide, of whom she referred as her “parting gift” to me as in recent days, Conscious has met her partner, fallen deeply in love, and will be setting off by sailboat to circle the world.

“I must introduce you to Bianca,” Conscious began, “our Spirit Sister on the verge of un-Earthing her full Goddess self.”

“Well, however did you know?” With a wink, and a smile (she can SEE me), I’ll play.

I’ve known Conscious for some time as she teaches yoga at the hotel (I’ve made my office) near my home in Nicaragua, and while I could never bring myself to remember her name, I was always so happy to see her smiling face as her hugs had a way of penetrating my being. There are some people for whom hugs are a meeting of body and soul. Maybe you have felt this? Maybe you, too, will have this pleasure one day… Certainly, that is my hope for you.

So connected am I with Conscious, that the same woman intent on causing me pain has been after her too. Remember the Bully? The “Other“? The blond Malificent, a fugitive of her former life in Canada, a bandita, a fraud, a childnapper, an energy sucker, formerly my neighbor though never my friend in El Camino del Sol, who made the destruction of my life her life’s ambition? With relentless pursuit, she had been after my Sister Conscious too.

So, why am I bullied when I have only love to give? Easy. “You’re a B.I.T.C.H: BEAUTIFUL. INTELLIGENT. TALENTED. CHARMING, and HOT.” Conscious explained. The more she spoke, the more I learned. The I learned, the more I yearned. The more she shared, the more I saw myself in her. She SEES me. I see Conscious. Time and again, a tear would form and fall. Living on the edge of a world you were born into, no longer from there but not yet where you’re going, can be a lonely experience. FEAR NOT. “Keep going…” Conscious directed, almost in warning. “Keep moving…” along your path. “Keep WORKING.” Of course, “work” is different than it used to be. Employed now by Her (not Conscious, but HER: The Universe, my Mother, my Father, my God), I am taken care of. I want and need for nothing as The Universe provides for me. TRUST. I no longer need money.

…Women will be envious of your position, and men will be threatened by your power. Then there are the Unknowing who simply will not understand you. Because people fear what they do not understand, the Unknowing, in their attempt to define you will try to confine you. It can be lonely living differently. Tonight I will be your student, Conscious teach me. “Adrienne was once where you stand: young, beautiful, and on the cusp of enlightenment. But she didn’t make it through, so she’s envious of you. She sees your power and the greatness ahead of you. But she was left behind.”*

SHE DIDN’T MAKE IT. These words hit me hard, sending a quiver of what I can only describe as Fear through me… What if I don’t make it? Of my place, I am fully aware that I. Am. Not. Quite… There. But, of where I am going, I can see there is no place better for me. PARADIS.

FEAR NOT. KEEP GOING. As my entire existence here in Nicaragua is the realization of a manifestation. I must continue to believe.

This past week, I met Em. A traveler staying at Mango Rosa. A passer-through. A girl intent on fighting me. And not just me, but everyone. My first interaction with her, also at Pizza (I must either stop going to pizza, or keep going to pizza) she bitched me out for no good reason. I was crowding her space, she said. While I should have felt sorry that my presence was too much for her to bear, I allowed her instead to get to me. Admittedly, I still have “work” to do. Em was a BITCH too, Conscious verified, but in an elementary stage. Em is fighting hurt. It’s true, she was so angry. I wasn’t enlightened enough to see past her approach. She was mean. But I was sensitive enough to feel her. I mirrored her pain. She angered me. Until last night, I couldn’t understand why I felt so disturbed. I am not angry. It’s only recently that I have started channeling. This gift can still confuse me.

As if meeting my soul sisters wasn’t enough, the play that night was only just beginning to unfold. Do remember the man whose Spirit Preceded Him and the beautiful surfista chica with cascading, sun-bleached waves who captured and stole his attention one year ago at Revolucion? Well A is now my friend, and the Mayor is just another lost soul, I now recognize as not fully connected. For months I wondered how, if I truly hold the capacity to see inside of you, that it could be possible to have been so mislead by him. Now, I know that what I saw some time ago really was his spirit. And both the beauty of his light as well as my recollection of it were true: His Spirit “PRECEDED” Him. Literally, his Spirit walks with him, but not IN him. The Mayor has not committed to his guide. He’s not connected.

*NOTE: this quote was later revised with “yet.” She hasn’t made it through YET.

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Now And Forever

Hello? Are you there?

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Sometimes I get sad that I haven’t met the man I am supposed to marry. I don’t want to bike, swim, hike, run alone. I want to fall in love with my best friend, a man who will appreciate the finer things in life: a sandy bum, a perfect swell, the smell of salt water and sunscreen, the way the heart dances between your throat and your stomach on a mountain bike trail, bike dancing on a Friday night… I don’t need money, I don’t crave things. Designer handbags no longer speak me. I prefer a truck to Lamborghini, and a date under shooting stars then to a Five Star. I have traveled all over the world, backpacking on my budget and jet setting on his, I know which way is better. I want good love and good love making, good food, good health…

And good friends! I have been in South Florida exactly two years and I haven’t found them yet. Tonight I overheard a girl say, “look for the bar with the fanciest cars out front, because that is where the nicest people will be” and, “he’s a nice guy, he’ll buy you jewelry.” But jewelry doesn’t fool me. I am living surrounded by stuff, things, materialism… I am drowning in this noise!

In New York, it was all about money, how much you have and making more. There’s no end to how much you “need,” no amount is ever enough. New Yorkers live on a hamster wheel that never lets up, working, churning for two weeks of vacation a year, ten-fourteen days of freedom, of peace, striving for a “future” that never comes because greed is a hole that can never be filled. But, in South Florida, it’s all about appearances. “Looking” good or “looking” rich – he drives a Ferrari, but he also sleeps in it! She’s beautiful, a surgeon sculpted her. INauthentic would best describe these people, this place.

From NYC fashionista to fitness model to country girl to jungle child. I long for the rip tide ride of Maderas and to be high on the clouds from the mountains above Allejuela.

Happiness is

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Cigarettes And Whiskey

He kissed my neck but not my lips. Strong hands, with a light touch, he caressed my back and my shoulders. With full awareness, I felt all as, over my clothing, he navigated my body, settling on the shelf between my hip and my thigh. He liked this spot on a woman, he confessed. He took hold of me here.

There were moments I wondered would he kiss me? Though I knew he would not. Of this knowledge grew my trust. A few times I allowed my curiosity to wander toward what it might be like. Cigarettes and whiskey? (Though he’s not a drinker) I was glad he didn’t try. I didn’t want him to. And never did his hand greedily grab hold of mine, never did he ask me to touch him.

Because he didn’t lead with sex, I felt comfortable around him. Not once did I feel he wanted more than I wanted to give him. Respect lead to trust and trust lead to intimacy. Intimately, he cuddled me. Each night, eagerly, I layed my head on the pillow between his shoulder and his breast, combed my fingers through the hair on his chest, then turned from him to push myself into him, closing the gap between my hips and his. One Body. We fit.

Here is where he would kiss me. As you would kiss a child, he kissed my back and traced the line down my shoulder. Because he kissed me like a child, my child came to play with him. I held his hand in the sand.

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xob

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