Guatemala: My Beautiful Destroyer

In the days leading up to my quarantine departure, resistance crept throughout my body.  It was a last-minute trip to Guatemala in search of my sanity which I had lost by the end of 2020. I obsessively cleaned every crevasse of my apartment, going back and forth between if this was even a good idea. COVID and talking about COVID seemed never ending and the indecision and lack of self-trust came back. I had two wolves fighting within me for power, and the one feeding off of the tense fear infused in our country was winning. I could stay home, play it safe and follow the “rules,” but my soul questioned the silent yet blaring message, “the only way to stay safe is to stay still and wait for direction.” My way of being is more in line with the OG of Original Sin, “Eve”. If I was to have lived in the garden of Eden, my curiosity would have led me to bite and enjoy that damn apple.  

I arrived in the intimate town of Antigua, and the scene was copied from the Merriam Webster definition of paradise: picturesque volcanoes, clear blue skies, and tropical flowers draping old historic churches. Swinging in a brightly colored hammock, I heard the faint sound of Antigua’s staple stray dogs barking in the background. While everything reflects perfection on the outside, I was dying a slow mental demise on the inside.

A pounding lump of coal besieged my chest and throat. Something deep within me wanted to get out and scream bloody murder. I wanted to rage and punch someone in the face. My inner sanctum was pulsating with hostility, and I couldn’t numb it. My inner child kicked and screamed, refusing to let me escape into my surroundings. 

I was desperate to transport out of this sunny fantastical paradise and land safely in my bed in Baltimore, staring at dead branches and a cloudy grey sky. I believed that I felt way more comfortable in death than in life. “WTF IS GOING ON WITH ME?” I screamed.

As I continued to lean into myself, I found that I had unforgiving anxiety. I became terrified of people. When I got ready to go out, my hands rattled as they pulled eyeliner across my lids. I took deep breaths. The psychological effects of being in isolation impacted me on a much deeper level than I had imagined. I wanted to crawl back in my cage just like a caterpillar in its chrysalis. I questioned what would be worse: to continue to live in fear that COVID could and would land on my doorstep at any minute or put salt on the wound of my emotional and social anorexia. I believed there were only two options. I took my chances and continued to pump my body with vitamins, dropped the fear of the unknown and went to go meet humans.

I leaned into my wild at the mystical Lake Atitlan also known as the “Womb of the Earth” and allowed myself to experience pure joy and freedom. I had my face painted like a mermaid goddess by a stranger who became a friend. My body moved in all different ecstatic directions for hours on the dance floor with the picturesque lake and volcanoes as my backdrop. My limbs began to remove themselves from the internal shackles. I remembered who I really am – the one who bites into the forbidden apple of wisdom and never looks back.

A day later, I contracted a gnarly parasite while my moon cycle began  (aka period, moon cycle is way sexier and more accurate). I completely surrendered as my body lost its hydration and a lot of blood.  There was nothing left of me. I laid on the cold stone floor of the bathroom and cried for my mom. I surrendered to the pain and humility. The thought of dying didn’t feel far off from reality, as my body was working overtime to keep me alive and it was exhausted. Any fear of death left lingering inside of me dissipated. However, a spotlight transitioned onto my fears of fully living that plagued me at the beginning of my trip. I swaddled myself in blankets and rocked myself to sleep, praying to God to alleviate the pain. For a few hours I was given rest.

The recovery process was brutal, and it took two weeks to feel like myself again. I went to Guatemala for a deep awakening  and let go of what no longer served me, and it did not disappoint. I realized that, at any moment, something outside myself could bring me to my knees and I have zero control over preventing it. However, I have the ability to take care of myself and adjust as needed, which provides me the internal freedom to really live. I now understand the importance of slowing down and nourishing my body when it wants to be fed, not just when I feel it is convenient. I tasted freedom in its purest form as I wildly danced in my body and then completely surrendered to a power greater than myself. This is life. I am free. It is all a gift.