I roll over in bed and open my eyes.  It’s 7:30 am which means I have been asleep for almost 16 hours.  This makes sense, considering that I didn’t sleep a wink the night before.  Instead, I listened to music, I danced around my cottage and I cried…a lot.  I would call it a complete break-down, actually (or a ´Spiritual Awakening,´ using Brené Brown´s phrase ) .  I remember looking in the mirror with tears streaming down my face, talking to my own reflection and then realizing that many would consider this behavior borderline insane.  Shit.  Is this serious?  Am I actually crazy?

However, as the late evening hours morphed into to the early morning, I came to the conclusion that, no, I am not crazy.  Once again, I am making a huge life shift, and these sorts of nights are the ramifications of putting myself through such a drastic level of change.  So, to celebrate the fact that I was not insane I…well…did something insane.

Around 4:30am, as the birds began to chirp, indicating that the sun was on its way, I threw on my bathing suit and headed out into darkness.  After 5 minutes on my bicycle, I pulled off onto the sand where I could just make out the shapes of the waves as they crashed onto shore.  Walking to the water’s edge, the small pebbles were cold under my feet, but this was quickly juxtaposed with the warm water of The Caribbean Sea as it washed over my toes.  With that, I walked in deeper…and I did this slowly, as if allowing the salty goodness to cleanse my body and my soul.

I swam out further until all I could hear was the splish-splash of water against my skin.  Oh, to be held by such a grand and yet soft and rhythmic body of water!  Relishing the solitude of my aquatic bubble, I watched the clouds turn pink and orange in preparation for the star of the day to make her debut.  Almost has hard as had cried mere hours ago, I screamed fits of glee at the absolute magnificence of this event.  Ok, maybe I am a LITTLE crazy.

I have spent the past 5 months enjoying the ease of life in the Caribe.  I have amazing conversations with enlightened people, go to yoga, attend cacao ceremonies, write endlessly and marvel at the magic of the world around me.  However, life is change and change is life.  All of the work I have been doing to heal myself from my past and grow into the confident and spiritual being I am today has been unknowingly in preparation for my next step in life.  This is something I have done before, but was never quite sure enough of myself to really own it and give it my all:  I have decided to start my own business as a life coach.  It is time to take all that I have learned and all that I will continue to learn and use it to be of service to others.  Though I am still narrowing my focus and determining the sorts of clients I will be best able to serve, I am committed to putting my all into this.  In order to do that, I am moving back to San Francisco for 2 months for further and intensive training on the art of coaching…a move that will bring a whole other set of challenges, as I have only spent a total of about 20 days total in the United States since I left over years ago.  Jungle woman moves back to the big city.

However, if there is one thing I have learned about myself in this life so far, it is that I am up to the challenge.  For me, life is a series of living to the extreme: Work hard, rest hard.  (‘Play hard’ is a found sprinkled within the aforementioned two).  Rinse. Repeat.

I realize there are easier ways to do this; ways that would minimize the chances that I would be an insomniac one night and then in bed depressed for 2 days…but, hey, that’s me.  That is my transition style.  It is what I need to emerge as a new butterfly, and I am done arguing with it.  Oddly, I find a certain peace in my tantrums and in my depression.  Because of this, I am further reminded to embrace this part of me, for this is my darkness and my light could not exist without it.



Good morning, Caribbean and goodbye…for now.