Threshold Crossing

In Fall 2018 in under 2 hours while at work, I learned about Deb Dana through an email, researched her offerings, then booked my flight to Spain and reserved my space to study with her. Like that, fingers snap, I was set to be in Spain in May 2019. I had no idea this would be my third trip to Europe in 2019. Who’s life am I living? Oh, yeah, this is MY life! While on that second trip to Europe, Italy with colleagues, I mentioned my trip to Spain. A colleague mentioned Mallorca. A week later, I cancelled my AirBnB in Barcelona and booked a flight to Mallorca and a room in a remote location. My heart guided the process.

This adventure began with an Amtrak ride from SD to LA. Sitting on the platform I met a woman in her sixties and a young woman in her early twenties. Together we shared stories - we had so much in common. A desire to move and be moved, to be present to our lives and the lives of others, and the stories were generationally unique. The woman in her sixties expressed a desire to go to Spain someday. She said I was brave to be going alone. Maybe it is…

Being brave chooses you when you are ready, when the path directs you. The thing is I am not sure I could live my life any other way - this strength of spirit and resilience is built in and only accessible when I am fully living. How do you live fully? How is that expressed? How do you know when you are not fully living?

Arriving in Barcelona, I took it easy staying at a hotel near the airport to catch a flight the next morning to Mallorca. I rented a car in Mallorca - my first time driving in Europe! The entire drive my heart was softening and whispering its content. The land is gorgeous. The sea is breathtaking and sweet. Climbing the mountain to arrive at my accommodations melted any residual fear. The land is wild like Torrey Pines. I am home. Truly, a part of me is from this land - there is Spanish blood in my maternal line.

The first day, I hiked and took the photo featured in this blog. The light through the trees onto the path was magical. Just beyond, there was a dry crossing. I paused. Listening to the birds and wild goats. Seeing the wind and light filtered through the trees. I was moved to tears. Delicious tears of relief. Releasing some heavy things I have carried much too long. Things I didn’t even know were weighing me down. Things that only surface when you are quiet enough and tender enough to respond and be held by the moment. It was as if I was filling the dry crossing with my tears.

On the return, I hiked without pause - no pictures, oddly no animals appeared on the path. When I arrived at this dry crossing, I felt the threshold of that experience. For so long, I have inhabited a liminal space - darkness, pain and so much - there’s no promise I am free of those human experiences. Though my body senses deep trust in my capacity to nurture myself through the life ahead of me.

The land here begs to be walked, felt and heard. What is the land telling you?