“And they heard the sound of Yehovah Elohim (the lawmaker, judge) walking in the garden in the cool of the day, and ‘ [they] hid themselves from the presence of Yehovah Elohim among the trees of the garden. Then Yehovah God called to ‘[them]’ and said, ‘Where art thou?’ “ (Gen 3:8-9)
November 2014, In a small town 2 days into the inca trail, I rose early from a restless night of altitude to watch the sunrise. Perched on a rock with my rainbow woven leg warmers bought at the market in Cusco the week prior, coca tea, a frosty nose, and “The Way of Man” by Martin Buber. I brought this book cause it was tiny and light weight for the 4 day trek. It had been sitting on my book case since seminary, unopened, and for some reason, while packing for my 3 months in Peru, this time it caught my eye. Being fresh out of seminary, that had followed 4 years at a Nazarene undergrad as a philosophy/theology minor, 4 years at a catholic all girls high school where religion and mass were required, and growing up in the presbyterian church….I had read and listened to the story of “the fall of man”, adam and eve eating the forbidden fruit and thus why childbirth is horridly painful and we are punished to work, bleed, and sweet to survive…I had read and listened to this story preached at least a 100+ times. This version was different though. Buber shared the story as it was not just a moment in history of how man came to be, not God’s words to just Adam (human), but God’s timeless words to each of us, …”Where art thou?” why are you trying to hide from the God within you and around you? Why are you hiding from your fullest self and freedom? Why are you ashamed of being naked, the most pure and free form of who you are? Are you running from yourself, from God? For the next 3 days of the trek this question swam in my head…”where art thou?”.
Right after graduating with my masters in Marriage and Family Therapy and 1,500 clinical hours under my belt, I had given up on therapy work, sold everything I had, started working on boats, ended up in Argentina…the common question I received during this season of my life was “what are you running from?” Yet that question never resonated with me, always left me perplexed…If i was indeed “running”, I was not running away from myself, I was running towards.
My time in Argentina brought Garciela Botoni (the president of the International Expressive Arts Therapy Association) to my life who opened my eyes, mind, and body to art and somatic therapy. Which lead to me falling in love with therapy again, with the art and mystery of healing again. If therapy was a practice all about reconnecting to the body, nature, and community rather than the diagnosis, stigmas, isolation, and office walls …then I could full-heartedly dive back into “being a therapist”. Which brought me back to the states to finish up my licensing hours and then down to Peru in 2014 as I worked with communities of girls and young women in the jungle and along the coast utilizing the arts, nature, and community for healing of sexual trauma and abuse.
While on the outside, I had literally jumped ship after my master program, appearing like I was running from life and responsibilities…I was never running away, I was running towards. Towards my fullest self, my joy, my heart’s calling, my fullest life expression…running towards my life, towards my true home, towards me. My last day in Peru, in a quinceanera shop I got “אַיֶּכָּה.” (where art thou?) tattooed in red across my right rib. My first tattoo. In red as they are God’s first recorded words to human. A commitment to always ask myself this question that God has asked human from the beginning of time… “where art thou?” “Why are you hiding yourself, running from/hiding from god, from life, from the beauty that you were created to be and enjoy?”
During that moment at the quinceanera/tattoo parlor in Huanchaco, I never would have imagined that I would be calling this land of the Moche people home for more than 4 years, more less, even ever returning to visit. Huanchaco is the exact opposite of what i considered my dream location. I love green lush land…Huanchaco is 10 hours deep into the most desolate dessert I know. I love surfing rights…Huanchaco is nestled next to the longest left in the world along a coastline full of perfect lefts. Yet, despite being over 3,000 miles away from the land I was birthed on, all lefts, and no green… Peru called me, taught me the art of coming home, creating home, being home..the art of returning to self.
And just as Santiago from “The Alchemist”, the shepherd boy traveling the world looking for the hidden treasure, his “Personal Legend”, that was actually under his tree, in his field, back home in Andalucia; the last 10 years in Peru has landed me back home, back home to the land that birthed me, home to my roots, home to myself. While I transition to homing in my homeland again, I always want to be asking myself “Where art thou?”. Am I becoming stagnant? Hiding in the bushes of cultural expectations? Not able to hear the call of my hearts song because the loudness of expectations and judgements of western life? Peru gave me the gift of time and space to re-member me and I always want to remember all the beauty, mystery, community, simpleness of life and joy that Peru bloomed in me.
Peru has taught me;
Surfing is an art, a way of being, connecting and spirit. It is a connection to our ancestors and an invitation to remember how to BE nature again.
Surfing is also a radical act of social justice! Being a woman who paddles out so other women and girls know they belong out there too.
Dama de Cao; the discovery of the priestess’s mumified body changed the understanding of Peruvian history as one of her-story, matriarchal rule. She taught and teaches me that women are bearers of the past, present and future. Our bodies remind us to remember. We rule through spirit and by simply existing in our true power we change the world.
Ayni, the quechua word for reciprocal relationship, opened me up to what true community and relationship with self, others and this world can really look like. Pre-Incan communities in Peru lived without currencies, without rulers..all equally and deeply valued and honored. Because of this relational way of being they were able to build, farm, and create beyond our current day abilities and understandings. And this Ayni blood still runs through the veins of the community of women in Huanchaco. Sharing resources, time, energy, and support with a natural flow like the tides. No keeping track or I owe yous…simply being in it together and recognizing that what is mine is yours and what is ours is the truly the earths. All of it is a gift to be shared and honored
The beauty of extremes. Peru is the most bio-diverse country in the world with the jungles so deep that there are communities who have never been in contact with the current day world and don’t need to because the earth’s abundance and their ayni provides everything needed to not just survive but thrive. To 20 hours of driving through the most desolate uninhabitable desert coastline preserving endless perfect empty waves. To glacerial mountain tops where humans strap on oxygen to hike their peeks to feel close to the gods. The beauty is in the diversity, the extreme differences, the experience of being a humbled human in the hand of mother nature.
Peru challenged me to sit in my discomfort, a 4 year yin practice sitting in my fears, insecurities, and leaning deeper into my edges. Listening to them, breathing deeper into them and letting them be my greatest teachers. From embracing what it looks like and feels like for me to be feminine, to going left, to completely letting go of all control and trusting, to falling in love with cactuses.
I witnessed the direct impact of tourism and plastic consumption on community health, the earth health, and my health. And it has radically fanned my flame of consciousness and sustainable action to get creative and joyful around loving my body and mother oceans body more. Peru inspired my first passion project 1Bag1World and now our annual #NoPlasticNovember movement rooted in how small tiny joy-filled changes can make huge waves of healing for mother ocean and ourselves.
I bought a moto taxi and learned I have my limits
I entered my first surf competitions and learned what competition is really all about…Stepping up so others can too. Doing my part to make sure we, women, are taking up space, have a voice, and space to be seen and celebrated.
Every season of life is valuable and honored. Multigenerational households with their elderly as an active and essential part of community and life and children wild, resilient, and cared for by all. Death is not hidden, but seen, talked about, and acknowledged as a natural part of life. And all of it is beautiful!
I got to take classes in Jujitsu, pole dancing, crossfit, the trujillo dance the marinera, and acro yoga
Ritual and ceremony is a way of being and doing life. Everything, every moment, can be sacred. Magic is real!
Peru has brought me to tears over and over again because of her beauty. Sitting in a room full of 40 young girls given the space to boldly say yes to their belonging in the ocean and surf for the first time. To being stopped on the street by a friend asking how you're doing in a way that really invites time to share and connect and cry together. To the most magical waves and mountains that silence and still my soul. To literally seeing the energy and beauty of the world unfold in front of me. This world is beautiful!
As I’m writing this I am in route back to San Diego, California where I will be re-rooting. I feel butterflies in my gut, expansion in my heart, groundedness in my feet. There is so much I don’t know…will I return to peru and if so how, what will life in SD look like this time around, what does this season have in store, how will I do it differently than last time. There is so much I want to hold onto, that I will miss and long for from life and living in peru; papa rellenas street food after surfs, the rainbow of foods at the local market, slow mornings watching the caballitos de tortora come to shore with the sunrise full of fish, emolientes to cure both physical and emotional ales, the sound of the church bells and reggaeton, being covered in paint and laughter while dancing the streets at carnival, moto taxi’s carrying everything from a mountain of sugar cane to surf boards, to your entire bedroom on their roof, dogs on the roofs, offroading down desolate beaches to empty perfect waves, being surrounded by women and girls in their power and full creative expression and boundless, life as ceremony.
Peru taught me the importance of remembering. The Chimuk civilization remembered…they prepared for the 7 year El Niño, never a surprise, always ready. Even now when the el nino rains come, their ruins outside of huanchaco remain safe and un touched by the floods. The pre Incan and Incan people were able to know when to plant, when to harvest, when what star needs to be where. Dama De Cao tattooed her body with the signs and symbols to help us in this moment and time remember…remembering is essential to move forward with more ease, abundance, and joy. Remembering both the “good” and the “bad”, the joy and the struggle…each teaches us something and invites us to a deeper connection to self, others and this wild world.
Boarding my flight, my feet are sandy, dried salt spray on my shins and calves. On the way to the airport we made a final stop by the sea, one last thing to let go of. I waded into the sea, holding my grandmothers glass bottle full of the sand from the union ceremony at my wedding, the final item that needed to be emptied and cleared. Feeling the sand in my hand, sand from the beaches of Las Delicias and Huntington Beach combined together. Each wave dissolved the sand from my hand. Impossible to hold onto it even if I wanted to. The strength and pull of the sea clearing, cleansing, and freeing. Each wave washing it away, leaving me empty and free. Each incoming wave, feelings of gratitude and tenderness flooding in for all the beauty peru, community, and this season gifted me. As the wave sucked back out, feeling liberated, free, complete, readiness to move forward into the next season, space within me cleansed and ready to welcome in whatever the next adventure holds. I know exactly where I am, I am home. I am wild. I am free. Where art though? I am here!
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