So now the adventure begins.
For the longest time I have been wanting to do a spiritual-recon adventure in the Maya lands of Mexico. I lived there for a time and am very familiar with the Yucatan. Yes, its full of beautiful beaches and the sun always shines, but there is something much deeper lurking beneath the surface of the untamed jungles and glistening white sands.
In less than a month, my journey will begin. In the meantime, I want to write about what has happened up to this point so both I and you can get a feeling for the overall picture, the history leading up to this adventure, the spiritual questions that have already been answered, and the questions that are still floating out there in the ether. I know long-winded articles can be a bit much, so I am going to try and keep things brief and do a series of posts, each on a different aspect or experience and all relating to the mysteries of Mexico, the Maya, and the Yucatan.
That means going all the way back to the beginning.
My first journey to the Riviera Maya was in 2009. It was my 25th wedding anniversary and my beloved husband, who is no longer with us, planned an exotic vacation that included a scuba certification for me. We touched down in Cancun and stepped out into a land full of the kind of warmth that seeps into your core and the kind of openness that makes you feel like you can finally breathe.
We spent our time in a little fishing village about twenty minutes south of Cancun called Puerto Morelos where the sea is the color of a swimming pool at the shore and deepens into the purest blue, so full of light and depth you feel like you are looking into a parallel dimension through a sapphire.
It wasn't long before I met my dive instructor, William. William is pure Maya. He is short and stocky and bronzed and happy and full of wonder and takes unbelievable risks. He is also an archaeological cave diver for the Mexican government and has unearthed ancient artifacts in the sacred cenotes. (More about cenotes later, much more.)
William taught me to dive. He took me into a world so magical and pure, it was like underwater yoga where every muscle in your body relaxes into a connection with your universe and you and the water become one.
I spent time with his family. His wife, Crescent, is from Canada and they had a six month old baby named Geronimo at the time. I learned some Spanish and a bit of Maya. I ate snapper William caught spear fishing and grilled whole and I had the opportunity to ask questions about life in Mexico and Maya culture and get answers first hand.
But more importantly, I made a connection. One that is somewhere in the center of my body, right below my rib cage. I made a connection to the land and the sea and the spirit of the Maya and the sky and the water beneath the earth and the gentle people and the food and the bright colors and the fresh fruits and the palm trees and the sun in all its glory and the red dirt and the limestone and the skinny cows and the peacocks and the monkeys and the caves and the exquisite crafts and the deep spices and how do I even begin to explain it to you? I want to take it out of my solar plexus and hand it to you like a rare gem that comes, not from this earth, but from some wild place.
Ten days later I had to leave. I stood in the town square--the center of Puerto Morelos where the small open-air Catholic church, a bungle of shops and restaurants, and the beach surround a play ground full of families--and I cried.
But there was really no need to cry because, little did I know, I would be back and I would return in a manner I never expected.
Moving forward,
laura
Here is another articles you can read from this history on this blog that will give you a deeper insight into the feeling I had at the time.
http://wherewondermeetswander.blogspot.com/2013/05/scuba-diving-with-massive-loggerhead.html
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