My version of Eat Pray Love is Playa Comida Amor

Do I begin at the end? Or start at the beginning? Right. Let’s pick up right at the now. I travel alone but I’m surrounded by people- children, families, couples, fellow beach lovers. They are milling about- strolling the boardwalk, listening to music, ordering at food carts, browsing the jewelry stalls, dancing in the town square. Beauty is finding stillness in the bustle.  I stand on the rooftop. And I hear them. The cicadas. They remind me of my childhood. They are there- ever-comforting, ever-singing- signifying that summer is in full bloom. In fact, the solstice is almost here. The beauty is hearing the silence in their music. Butterflies at the beach. Always enchanting. The pier. The waves. The vendors. The unrelenting sun. Relief found by jumping in the water. Beauty is finding peace in the crash of the ocean wave. I breathe each breath in, walk each step forward, marvel in each sun set. Savor each bite, bathe in each sound. All the sounds. Find the beauty that IS.  The...

 As I reflect back on 2023, I am filled with gratitude. Not just gratitude, but wonder and appreciation for this life. About a month ago, while in PV, I decided to write a letter to my younger self. What I wrote came from the heart, and the end result surprised me. I am sharing it with you all here. I encourage you all to write letters to your younger selves as well - what might yours say? Dear younger self, Welcome to your beautiful life! You were so brave to decide at 23 that you wanted to move to Paris! You did it, and you built a beautiful life there, making amazing memories that you will cherish forever. Don’t feel bad that mom didn’t come to visit you yet- you will show her Paris on a very special mother-daughter trip in 20 years. You love Paris and also love Stockholm. You will discover other parts of the world- on other continents- that will capture your heart as much as Europe did. You will go places. You’ll see new cities. You will meet people. You will try amazing food f...

Months have gone by since I was last here. 💝 The pulse is still the same. The vendors go by. Selling chachkis. Selling food. Some are the same- I recognize their voices. Cotton candy, oysters, ceviche, rosary beads. You can literally get it all here.   I chat with Cesar, because I always sit in his section where he rents chairs and umbrellas.  I feel safe here. I catnap. I catnap several.times.a.day. It’s glorious. I go get ice cream. I go for a swim. I people watch. My head bops along to the music around me, whether it’s traditional Mexican music, Taylor Swift, or live guitar music from strolling musicians. I read my book- it’s a great one: My Own Magic.  I have some updated aspirations for this trip, and here they are: -try 10 restaurants I’ve never been to before -strike up a meaningful conversation with 1 new person every day -15,000 steps day I’m headed out soon for tonight’s boardwalk stroll- and it will bring Food, Connection, and Adventure. Kind of like the Novem...

Ever go through jury selection on Zoom? You log in, and then it's quiet. For hours. One lady asked, "Is there something going on behind the scenes, or are we just stuck here in Purgatory?" Good question. Merriam Webster defines "purgatory" as something along the lines of a state in which souls are made pure through suffering. Not an exact quote, but you get the idea. Is it quiet in Purgatory, do you think? Silence. Silence is funny. While waiting for countless hours in the virtual jury room (OK, they weren't countless, I counted them, there were 8 exactly) for something (anything!) to happen, it made me think of the work by Sartre Waiting for Godot . I read it during my Master's program at NYU. From what I remember, it's about these two guys, waiting. People come by and ask why they are waiting. For the bus? For a friend? For death? For a miracle? The entire play... they are just waiting. "Just" waiting. After the book was published, critic...

Last night I was whisked away to Spain. I was in a small theatre, listening to flamenco guitar.  Just kidding, I wasn't actually in Spain, but at the Institut Cervantes in New York. I went to see Antonio Rey, renowned flamenco guitarist from Madrid, who was there as part of the Flamenco Festival of NYC. When Antonio would chat with us between songs, I would hang on every word. He explained why his latest album is called "Flamenco sin Fronteras" (Flamenco without Borders) - because flamenco doesn't just belong to Spain. It belongs to the world. When he played his guitar, I would marvel at the sound coming from such a beautiful and simple-looking instrument. He started with some solo tunes, and was then joined onstage by two other guitarists, and I felt that that was when his music truly came alive.  When the flamenco dancer came out, I got goosebumps. While some of her movements were grandiose, like the pose she's in here, others were softer, more subtle, yet very ...

Day Two in Sedona brought more beauty and more peace. Although I'm not what you might refer to as an avid hiker, I did bring my hiking boots to Sedona. I was pleasantly surprised with how well-marked the trails were and how beautiful the surroundings were. In the morning I headed out to Airport Vortex and walked part of the Airport Loop. This is what I found. Above is the view from the aptly named Sedona View Trail, which links the parking lot at the airport scenic outlook and the Airport Vortex site. It was a bit chilly, especially on the shady side of the mountain. But then you get here, and... ta-da! Wind in my hair, rock at my feet, vortex within range... can't you just feel the energy!? So later that day, before heading to dinner, I went on one more hike, then caught the sunset back at Airport Vortex. It was a busy day full of lots of time for reflection, and during which a love of hiking and mountains started to brew. Here is a video from the hike at Boynton's Canyon ...

Heyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy. Did you miss me!? I missed me! I missed you! And now we're back together, yay!! I swear, when I'm not traveling I feel like my soul is dying, like I can't get enough oxygen. And when I am traveling I'm in the moment, breathing, living, loving. So that's where I've been, and now I'm back home, and ready to share my adventures with you! Let's jump right in. Some of you know that I was supposed to participate in an energy retreat in Sedona in January. It got postponed, but of course my adventurous self decided that I was going to head out west anyway because the excitement had been working up over the previous 4-5 months and I just had to go. Instead of spending two whole weeks in Sedona like originally planned, I did re-work the itinerary somewhat. Are you familar with the Peter Lik photo that was taken at Upper Antelope Canyon? **Frantically googling Peter Lik** Well, photos of people (acquaintances) visiting that location kept mak...