3 Lessons Volcan San Pedro Taught Me

I recently got back from one of the most amazing trips I have ever taken. I knew Guatemala would be beautiful and energizing but I underestimated just how much I would fall in love with it. Staying on Lake Atitlan, I was in a constant state of awe of not just the lake but the mountains and volcanoes all around me. Words cannot even begin to do justice to the pure beauty of it all. One of the other women on the same retreat as me, Sara, has a bucket list that includes hiking a volcano. If there ever was to be the perfect opportunity to do so, it was there, on Volcan San Pedro. She invited me to join her, and after much agonizing over whether I should, I decided to go for it. Sara has a contagious positive quality about her, and so between that, the universe nudging me to go, the magic of the portal and every other sign I was receiving, I knew this was an opportunity not to be missed. (More about the portal and the magic of the lake to come in a later blog).

I consider myself to be respectfully strong and in shape but I am by no means an experienced hiker.  I had no delusions that hiking 10,000 feet up (and of course back down) San Pedro would be easy.  It was a slow spiral trail that went up, up, up, up and up some more, with virtually no flat spots (which meant we had to create our own places to stop, rest and catch our breath). When we hiked down, about 10 minutes in, it began to rain. I am talking torrential downpour for the entire way down.

On a good day, the hike down would have been challenging enough, but when you add rain to the mix, it makes for an extremely steep descend of trekking through mud, slush and newly formed streams of water and over the most slippery rocks and terrain imaginable. Sara and I each nearly wiped out on our butts at least 12 times each. I am amazed that we managed to steady ourselves and stay safe every time. Miraculously our guide, David, only slipped once. Show-off!

The best way I can describe the experience is that I hated practically every minute of the hike. My muscles were sore, my body was fatigued and my brain just would not accept that no matter how many hours I hiked, I still had hours more to go. Yet, once I finished the hike, I realized how much I absolutely loved the experience for so many reasons. That day and that beloved volcano taught me so much.

  1. Being on such a massive natural piece of this earth for an entire day is simply humbling. It made me realize that there are so many things in this world bigger than I am. Than we are. In a world where we get so caught up in our routines and the same surroundings, it is easy to forget that we are really just little peons in the bigger scheme of things (important peons I should add but peons nonetheless). Enjoying the simplicity of just being part of a bigger universe is beautiful in and of itself.

 

  1. Not every choice in life is going to be pleasant. It won’t always be things like do I go to the pool or the beach today? Do I buy a Lexus or BMW? Do I want to vacation in Europe or Asia?  These are all what I liked to refer to as #highclassproblems. There are times, unlike those, where we have two pretty shitty options in front of us and we have to pick the one that may suck just slightly less.When it started to rain on the hike, David had us go under some trees to take cover. After a few minutes, it really wasn’t giving us shelter. At all.  We asked David how long we would be standing there and he said probably an hour. HELLLLL to the no! I was not about to spend an hour standing and waiting helplessly for the rain to possibly clear. (It rained every day in Guatemala I had been there, and given that this particular day that we decided to hike a volcano it started to rain about 2 hours earlier than normal, I was not so optimistic that it would pass anytime soon).Sara and I suggested that since we were getting soaked anyways, could we keep moving? And so we did. It was not easy or fun to be hiking down in rain but the alternative of waiting seemed riskier to us. The more it rained, the worse the terrain would get. The more it rained, the more soaked, tired and cranky we would get waiting. So we made a choice that was by no means pleasant but seemed favorable to being completely helpless to the weather. When we did make it to the bottom, we were extremely relieved with the choice we made.

 

  1. Attitude is everything. Seems obvious right but how often do we forget the significance that our attitude towards something impacts the experience? David has hiked San Pedro about once a week for the last 4 years. That means we were roughly his 190th guided tour. When we said asked him if this was the worst hike he ever had done, he said yes. He also agreed to my eloquent statement of “This is some crazy shit, isn’t it, David?” A little sense of humor in life doesn’t hurt.Yes, Sara and I did ask a dozen times “how much longer?” but aside from that, we kept our spirits up. We cracked stupid jokes the entire way down and in between balancing ourselves with our walking sticks and balancing ourselves on the same rocks we were trying not to curse; we focused on just getting to know each other better. Being stressed, snippy and negative would not have gotten us down any faster or any safer.As aforementioned, that while it was not a pleasant hike, I attribute feeling so accomplished and proud to the modest fact that we kept our attitude positive. I even joked at one point that there better be a rainbow when we get down and sure enough, there really was! It was a sweet reward and I believe the universe’s way of rewarding us for powering through a harrowing day (and for not be whining divas while doing so).

It’s ironic to me that I had to climb a volcano to get myself grounded. I went into it thinking it was just something I should do for the sake of the experience (and for the amazing photo opportunities). I left San Pedro feeling Zen and calm, which if you know me are not two words you would typically associate with my personality. I still feel like that since I have returned to real life. That day was really all about perspective. I believe it goes to show that sometimes you have to step outside of your typical world in order to be reminded of how you want to govern the one life you are given.

 

 

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Sleeping With a Ghost

When I asked the universe to give me someone to sleep with at night, in retrospect I should have been more specific. I spent three and a half years cohabitating with a ghost. Yes a ghost. Seriously, a ghost.

One of my smartest, most adult decisions (other than using Uber to avoid horrendous LA parking) was independently buying my first condo, the one I have lived in now for four years. Picking out granite for my new custom bathroom cabinet and selecting the stain for my hardwood floors were not things I ever thought I would derive such joy and pride from. I spent countless weekends at Home Depot, West Elm and Lamps Plus furnishing my own space to my liking, and I relished every moment of it. I loved everything about my condo… other than I never felt quite comfortable in my bedroom.

I did not understand what it was but my room just felt cold to me, especially compared to the rest of my condo. It is like the when you walk out of an air conditioned store in Florida back into the humid air, the contrast hits you hard.

If you know me at all, you know sleeping is my thing. I love it. I definitely do not like it when something prevents me from the pure bliss of drifting off to my dreams (especially when I am before the sun to workout. Last thing I need is to be tired and lifting heavy weight over my head).  I started thinking I was going a bit crazy at night. I would close my eyes and feel something in the room with me. It is not settling when you are alone but feel something pressing on your leg or pushing you into your mattress. (I have since learned this is called being psychically attacked). I would wake up almost every night in a total panic, sweating. I would swear on my life there was someone in my condo. I knew logically there could not be (my security alarm would have gone off, right?). I would tip toe out of my room ready to face the man, in his late thirties with dark hair who I was convinced would be coming around the corner from my kitchen. Not all ghosts come in the same form. This one was somehow in my psyche and I could see him there (and feel him in the physical).

It got to the point where I would fall asleep on my couch at night with the TV. blaring horrendous infomercials while every light imaginable was on. I would wake up anywhere between midnight and 4 am to begrudgingly force myself to finish out the remaining morning slumber in my bed. I was constantly tired and cranky.

Finally, I asked a spiritual healer about this. I told her I did not know quite how to explain it but there is this weird, negative, cold energy in my bedroom (I didn’t feel it anywhere else). She immediately said, “Oh you have a ghost.  He isn’t bad but I wouldn’t say he’s good.” Ok great. So on the plus side, I wasn’t going crazy. On the negative, I had a freeloader.  I have always believed in ghosts and spirits; yet I had not expected meeting one quite in this fashion.

A few weeks later, my healer did a house visit and successfully encouraged him to move on. From what she knew about him, he physically matched the description of who I could see in my own mind. He was sick before he passed, he never lived there but he had some attachment to my condo. It seemed he must have known someone who lived there long before I did. I tended to sense him in the corner of my room which in my gut told me someone used to religiously sit in a rocking chair in that same spot.

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The moral of this story? Well I have reclaimed my room and sleep wonderfully now (without a night light). I also have without a doubt confirmed that I do believe in spirits and life after death. I believe in things that I cannot necessarily see before me with my own two eyes. I believe all of these to be just as powerful, if not more, than what I know to be in my reality. What do you believe?