So, there I was, stranded, more or less. I had ridden some 100 km into the bowels of Mendoza and made a wrong turn. I was in the middle of nowhere and had broken a spoke. I was carrying about 25 lbs and I didn't have any tools that would fix my current situation.
I did find a little restaurant and hotel at the end of deserted highway, which literally ended in a few km because I guess a few years back they built a dique or dam and the road just stops. That is typical in Argentina. There was a fancy resort just up the road, but as I looked down upon it from my highway vestige, I could tell we’d not make a good fit; me with my sweaty riding clothes, broken bike and my seriously drowned spirit. No, down at the resort, they seemed to be having the time of their life.
So, as I pondered my situation later that evening sitting at my make-shift campground in the lawn along side the restaurant, I saw, much to my surprise, a cyclist riding up the road. He was in full cycling gear, an obvious sign of being “authentic” and I almost stuttered as he passed by me…. I yelled, “Hey, Che!!!” and he stopped. He turned around and well, all I can say, is the rest is Argentinean history….
Juan Marcos Guevara. A student of “sistemas y administacion” he was also an avid cyclist and bee-keeper. We made immediate friends. He offered to assist me, should I make it back to his town of Godoy, which was only about 50 km from where I was now.
He took off that evening for home and I went to sleep that night with a renewed sense of purpose and joy for my ever-expanding experience in Argentina.
The next day, I rode the 50 km into town. I found his home, a small, cinder-block structure, not unlike the others in the neighborhood. He took me to a local bike shop and we purchased the necessary supplies. He fixed my bike. We spent the evening hanging out in Mendoza cafes and bars. It was awesome. I slept in his sister’s bed. His home was littered with dead bees. Odd, but somehow endearing. His mother?? Divina!!! She seemed rather elderly to have a son's Marcos' age; but she was very kind and had a youthful spark in her eyes. I do not remember what was the deal with his father...
We rode to the top of Parque San Martin, which allowed us a view of the whole valley. We picnicked among the trees. We laughed and drank copious amounts of this amazing wine, Santa Ana…. I’ve yet to find anything like it anywhere else.
The next morning we went to the Mercado where I purchased supplies for the next two days because he was taking me to his cabin in the mountains nearby. We headed to Valle de Upspallata in the Argentinean Andean foothills.
His cabin was more like a tiny house set in the most picturesque countryside. Here, there were wildflowers, bees and butterflies everywhere. We rode around town and he took me to his bee boxes which he had strategically placed all over the countryside. He introduced me to all kinds of interesting friends that I would have NEVER met had I stayed on the regular tourist route. I can’t even put into words the experience because it was so much like a movie that it still does not seem real to me.
I find the comparison between the two cultures fascinating. Here, in the US, we stuff our homes, garages, storage units, back porches and basements with stuff! We have RV's, ATVs, VCRs, DVD players and more and more stuff than we possibly use in a lifetime. There, in Argentina, they have less 'stuff' and maybe someone might label them as "poor" but to own a small house in the magnificent place is something even the "middle class" can afford. Maybe it is because they understand that time spent with family and friends is more rewarding than a garage filled with stuff.
From the moment we met, there wasn’t even a seconds hesitation that we were connected in spirit. But for some reason, however, the first night we spent together in the cabin, there was a little bit of tension upon deciding where to sleep. There were probably ten beds in the cabin. I insisted upon sleeping in the bed upstairs, alone. He honored my boundary with the utmost gentleman-like manner. He was eternally sweet and trustworthy.
The next morning we went for a hike to the top of Cerro de la Plata. Just a few km below of and with a spectacular view of the highest peak in South America, Aconcagua. We celebrated our achievements, shared our deepest secrets, solved world problems and vowed to remain friends forever.
We dined alfresco that afternoon in the courtyard of his little cabin.
It’s amazing to think that I was given such an insiders view, such a local’s perspective of such an impressive and illustrious and yet undiscovered and pristine region.
Marcos had climbed Aconcagua once before and was in the process of preparing to do it again. He’d later send me the pictures. I was quite jealous when I received them.
When I left Mendoza, I felt an odd mix of satisfaction and joy that I had not felt in years. I was torn by my obvious love for Marcos, but yet, strange aversion to him, as if he were like a brother to me…. I mean, how could we of had that kind of experience, that deep connection and not fallen in love?
The last night we spent together in the cabin, we wrote love letters to each other. I have not pulled mine out of my journal in several years. I know that it was sweet and heartfelt. But we left it there. To be honest, this post makes me sort of want to dig it out. I never saw Marcos again.
It’s sad to me that we’ve lost touch with each other. We remained in contact for a year or two after I left Mendoza via email. He kept saying he’d come visit me in Buenos Aires but it’s expensive to travel if you are not a foreigner. I understood. I left without saying goodbye.
I contacted him again when all of my shit hit the fan last year, seeking, I guess some kind of validation that I was acceptable to some Argentineans at least. He was gracious, as expected. I miss him terribly. I can’t get near a bee without thinking about him. I wish him the best. He was one of the most inspiring, humble, generous, kind, humorous people I have ever met in my life. I wish him well. To Marcos, the Hippie Bee-Keeper!!!
Perfect question for Science of Mind newbie. What is the answer? Well, I don’t know and I’ve asked a lot of my fellow SOM practitioners and yet I know what the response will be…. Hmmm…..perplexing.
So, instinctively, I’d jump to say that, well, I may need to meditate on this thought a while longer until the truth emerges, I don’t have that kind of time. Nor do you. Let's get on with it!!!
The SOM philosophy will say that your thoughts create your reality. But what if, you are not really thinking a thought, but rather, really surmising the reaction of a situation? What if someone says or does something for which you are simply attempting to define? What if that which they say is nothing more than a tactic to get a rise out of you?
Well, then, diving deeper, I guess I’d have to admit that we are all no more than mirrors to oneself and if someone said or did something that made you feel a certain way, then there is a huge chance that it is actually less about them and more about you.
So, let’s say for instance, that I feel I am in competition with someone, not because I particularly love to compete (because, honestly I do not) but because I feel a sense of pressure to “perform” from them. Well, if I don’t really like to compete, then where is the pressure to perform coming from?
Me! So, I am, in short, creating the need to compete because what this person says or does makes me feel somehow inferior, less than, in need of proving my worth.
If I go back to the principles of SOM, I will remember (ah! Remembering who I AM) that I am actually pretty darn okay without anyone else’s opinion of me. I am whole, perfect and complete, just as I AM.
So, why do I feel the pressure to perform? Why do I suddenly feel less sure of myself? What did they do or say to knock me off balance? And furthermore, more importantly, why did it affect me so much?
Maybe it has a lot to do with our own need to feel validated and loved? Perhaps we had some kind of unfulfilled need as a child that continues to rear it’s jealous head when someone (acting from their own child’s truth) says or does something that catches us off guard and reminds us of our pain. We try so darn hard to forget the pain. But it is always there. It is actually part of who we are, as this whole, perfect and complete person. Pain does not signify less than perfect. It actually only represents awareness of the truth of who we are.
I mean, if you are anything like me, you are seriously trying to stuff all of that childhood trauma, rejection, abandonment and dysfunction that was so real and present in probably, what, come on, realistically, 99.5% of all of our childhood experiences???
The more I share my winnings and losing’s with my SOM community, I find that I am actually somewhere right in the middle of all of the goodness and the shit. We are all pretty much going through the same darn terrifyingly, annoyingly obvious fact of living as a human beings.
I jokingly told my SOM teacher that I strived to become a Practitioner of SOM mostly because I saw her and the Practitioners as somehow living in this land of Milk and Honey and I so wanted to be there, minus my pain and suffering. Somehow, I wanted to be let into the Club!!! She laughed, obviously.
It doesn’t make it easier to say, “well, I guess those that suffer are at least as bad off as me, so therefore I am okay with that”. It makes me sort of melancholy that we all have to suffer so much.
I know, I know, the Dalai Lama would tell us that we don’t need to suffer; that, in fact, it is our choice to suffer as we do. But, honestly, how many of us will achieve the enlightenment of his Holiness in our lifetime?
We have jobs, and children and bosses who don’t appreciate us, and crazy drivers, and grocery clerks, and thoughts of Armageddon! It’s all freaking’ crazy to think that we could actually be Zen about life when all of this shit is happening!!!!
And yet, science is increasingly pointing towards meditation as a tool for recouping some of our societal ills. Scientists have discovered that meditation can actually help one shift brain waves from the stress-prone right frontal cortex and move them to the calmer left frontal cortex where more stress reduction, more enlighten and more calm self-reflection can occur.
New iPod apps can actually help you with reminders on a daily, even minute to minute basis to stop, breathe, think positive thoughts and smile.
As we, as a society, grow increasingly taxed in our lives, technology may be one tool to help us remain somewhat civil and aware of our tendencies towards utter social distortion. But, we cannot rely on technology to save us. Real, truthful and authentic relationships will be, in the end, my humble opinion, that which saves humanity.
As a blogger, I realize how paradoxical this sounds. But the truth is, that no matter how many words I pour onto this digital paper, the end result is dependent upon the quantity of connections I’ve made. Real or digital, we are all really only just one click away from being totally alone. And that makes competition seem all the more selfish and vulnerable. Those who chose to perpetuate competition for a means of validating their own self worth will soon someday realize that it’s not about the win but about the game (of life) and how it’s played.
So, this last week I've been a little blue. It kind of hit me that perhaps I am a little, just a smidge, kinda, sorta, self absorbed. OMG!? Really?? Who here has ever felt a little self-absorbed in the past? Ah, yes. So, it’s kind of normal, right? Someone I appreciate recently validated some feelings I was having by saying, “yes, many people feel like that at one time or another” and I was like, “really? You mean I am not the only one?” Because, quite honestly, and I am just being totally honest with you, but at times, I feel like I AM THE ONLY ONE.
Yeah, I know that I am supposed to realize otherwise, but at times, even some of the minor, not-so-huge times, I feel quite alone. I feel like I am the only one who feels the way I do and that no one else could possibly understand. Then I go to get my nails done or I stop by a local coffee shop or maybe I overhear a conversation at the laundry mat and I then it hits me: SMACK! I am not the only one who has hard days.
Even my son, of a whole 3.5 years can admit when he’s reached his limit. Although, most times, it’s not a pleasant experience, we often make due with patience, breathing and lot’s and lot’s of choices.
It kind of hit me today; as invariably most of my posts do, that I, in fact, do not try to plan out my self-care scenarios. Today, I had a woman from the City come and evaluate my ergonomic situation at my desk. Most of what she recommended was common sense, but things I do not take the time to apply. Things like: take a break, meditate, breathe, move your body every 30 minutes, try moving your mouse to your opposite hand, etc…things that, really, we all should probably be doing on an hourly basis, but we don’t.
We don’t because we’d much rather stress that our Facebook page wasn’t viewed or commented upon. We worry that our timecard doesn’t reflect the work we’ve actually been doing. We wonder what our bank account balance is and when it will ever be higher. We look at web pages and pictures of prettier people than ourselves and think that we’ve somehow missed the mark or that we are not enough.
So then I stared to think about what it means to be self absorbed. Because, now, as a SOM practitioner, I am kind of confused. Online dictionaries would define it as being preoccupied with one’s own affairs, or one who’s limited to caring for one’s own needs. So, weird. Self absorbed doesn’t sound as bad as it did when I was 12 years old. Maybe for me, it’s like, because I was never overly self absorbed, but more often self deprecating, this definition seems a bit arrogant to me. But, for someone who has spent a lot of time pursuing and pushing their own agenda, this definition seems a bit dull and unassuming.
And think about it, either way, you are relatively alone in either case. Is that where any of us really wants to be?
When I feel alone, truly alone, these days, instead of fretting that I’ve become some kind of crusader for my own personal existence, I breathe and appreciate that very fact; then I open my eyes and try and find one positive thing in my view. Then I realize, that if I am seeing something good, that I am no longer alone, but that we are all part of that goodness. I try and see that good thing in my life and when I do, I realize that I, in fact, am not separate and alone but rather ONE and CONNECTED. How odd, that by feeling totally centered into my own being, I am actually connected to EVERYTHING ELSE!
It makes life a lot easier to live.
If others did this too, well then, why we’d have a veritable revolution!!! Imagine the idea of entering a grocery store where everyone was thinking that they were connected to one another. Or when you file your IRS taxes documents that the person on the receiving end is actually connected to you in spirit!
It’s not easy to do. Just today, I received a compliment and an invitation to hang out and instead of graciously accepting because I knew that it was ALL GOOD, I let my mind wander on the what if’s and how not’s and the whole thing turning out painfully disappointing.
It takes mental perseverance to achieve mindfulness. I used to think it took freedom from…whatever it was that kept you from being mindful. But now, I do see that mindfulness is really about SELF-ABSORBTION. Without total self awareness and acceptance you cannot and will never ever become the person you wish to become. Without surrender to who you are (absorbing the truth of what is) you will never be able to move into another reality.
