Love As Fermentation

“Food tastes better when someone else feeds it to you, that’s what they say in Ethiopia. So before someone takes a bite they prepare the best bite and feed it to someone else,” you tell me as you prepare a fork of Indian food to feed me at a restaurant in New York City. It’s the gift of giving and receiving. Being willing to receive without quite knowing what you’re going to get. You were the first person to tell me that as we shared Indian food in a city far away from Ethiopia, far away from here. You told me stories about traveling in Latin America, sleeping in hammocks, sailing from Central America to South America, working at a hostel on the beach, teaching English in the Andes. You were the first person I met who traveled through Latin America, who followed your heart and the spirit of adventure.

You didn’t tell me the part about giving and receiving. I figured that out on my own later. But this act of feeding, of giving to another person, giving the best bite you called it, the best piece you can give, the best part of yourself. This Ethiopian custom became one I passed on to other lovers, to friends, to anyone I shared food and nourishment with. Passing you on everywhere I went. Now at a fermentation class in Asheville, 6 years later, this same Ethiopian custom comes out the teacher’s mouth.

Pulled between watching the cooking demonstrations and the greater need of sleep, I hazily remember that first night we spent together. I start writing before I even realize I’m thinking of you.

“In order for a seed to germinate it has to be warm, moist and slightly acidic,” every so often the teacher says something that speaks directly to my thoughts. A seed needs warmth in order to grow. We need warmth.

“It’s a wrap,” I just glanced at the worksheet and notice the title of the workshop. It’ a wrap: our story. Maybe not our story per see, but the romance between us, the things I’ve created in my head, the you I’ve longed for . I chuckle out loud as the reality of fermentation hits: slow process. Do something, create something and then let it sit and do its own thing. Slow food. Just like the drawn out process of our relationship: slow, over many moons and years, different lessons and growth with every encounter. Fermenting. Fermentation tastes better. It adds flavor. Fermenting grains lets you get the most nutrition out of them.

How can we get the most nourishment out of something? You could never give me the best bite, the best of yourself. But I’ve finally realized that it’s okay. I’ll give the best of me to others instead. I’ll give the best of me to myself.

Next I attend the workshop, “Gardens That Give
and Give.” A garden
I’ve been
relentlessly tangled around the idea
of you.
Perennials come back
year after year,
are more self-maintaining
over time. You’ve become
the perennial in my mind.
With deep root systems
I want to fall in love
and remain there.
“You’re helping me thrive; let me help you thrive,”
the teacher says and then shows us another slide. Strawberries.
You taste so bitter and you taste
so sweet. Love
ripped away at the seams.
Fresh and ripe and destroyed.
Always falling; I’m ready to land.
And still be on my feet.
Are these connections only meant to last in fleeting moments?
Six years. Six weekends. So many muddled thoughts in between.
Slow process.
Create something
and then
it takes on its own life.

This is part of the Choosing Vulnerability Series. Read more about it here. This is an unedited excerpt from the notes I took while I was at the Organic Grower’s School in Asheville. Sometimes out of nowhere, in the most unexpected places, a former lover finds their way into my heart again.

 

Learning How to Love Chocolate (continued)

The first part of this story is about my realization that chocolate really isn’t so bad. For as long as I can remember I didn’t like chocolate. But things are starting to change. Read Part 1 here.

The second cacao ceremony was a complete heart-opener.

Before the ceremony started, I was having a great day at the Mystical Yoga Farm, the spiritual community in Guatemala where I spent the winter. I woke up and stayed in bed to write myself a love poem (read that here). Then I fasted for the ceremony. Fasting is supposed to intensify the experience.

Cacao, or chocolate before it’s processed, has been used ceremonially for centuries in Latin America.

Continue reading

Learning How to Love Chocolate

I have a confession to make: I don’t really like chocolate. This single taste preference has excluded me from many crucial bonding moments with other females. I’ve never devoured away my pain in a pint of chocolate ice cream or bought a chocolate bar when it’s that time of the month. I’ve never spontaneously bought a chocolate bar in the grocery store line or willingly chose chocolate cake at a birthday party. When I’ve received chocolate for various holidays, I’ve always given it away.

I’ve felt like this about chocolate for as long as I can remember. So when people have offered me some, I’ve politely declined. But recently I’ve learned that chocolate isn’t just one set thing. Chocolate comes in all different shapes and sizes. I’ve learned that even though I don’t like chocolate, I love cacao.

Cacao, chocolate before it’s processed, originates in Latin America. In its purest form chocolate is not sweet; it’s bitter. In the United States and Europe chocolate is inundated with milk and sugar, and most often, the ceremonial aspect of cacao is forgotten about. Until I went to Central America I had no idea that people used cacao as a plant-based medicine in ceremonies. Until I went to Central America I had no idea that chocolate is a plant, that chocolate grows on trees. Continue reading

What Life is Really Like at the Mystical Yoga Farm

Most days at the Mystical Yoga Farm feel like a dream. I feel like I’ve been here for an eternity. I’ve been here for 32 days.

I’m living in a lush roadless forest without a town name. I’m surrounded by the growth of green plants, flowers, vegetables and fruits. Sunlight dances across the lake almost every day. I stare at volcanoes every single day.

Loose leaf tea is served all day along with fresh fruit. Most of the food is cooked in coconut oil. The salad greens are picked fresh from our garden for every meal. A gong is rung when meals are ready. We sing songs to bless the food before we eat. I eat hand rolled freshly made tortillas a few times a week. We om before and after everything. Click to fall in love with life at the farm

24 Hours in San Pedro

San Pedro La Laguna is a town on the southwest shore of Lago Atitlán that sits beneath Volcan San Pedro. With a population of about 13,000 people, it’s primarily inhibited by Tz’utujil Mayans, expats and backpackers.

From the farm a group of us took a private boat to San Pedro and got dropped off at the west side dock: muelle municipal. This is also the dock where boats, lanchas in Spanish, arrive from and depart to Panajachel. Continue reading

Market Life in Santiago Atitlán

Hoy was mi primero tiempo going to the mercado in Santiago Atitlán. Santiago is the town diagonally across the lake from the Mystical Yoga Farm. To get to any other towns from the farm (other then the village of Chacaya), we have to take a boat to Santiago first.

Santiago is a mostly indigenous Mayan community of around 50,000 people on Lake Atitlán. The locals speak Tz’utujil (pronounced two-two-hill). There are a handful of ex-pats who also live in Santiago.  Women and most of the young females wear traditional woven stripped long skirts and huipiles, shirts embroidered with colorful birds and flowers. Continue reading

Life lead me to the Mystical Yoga Farm

Inca Medicine Wheel

Inca Medicine Wheel

Update: The day I posted this blog was the last day of the year of the snake in the Chinese tradition. I found out the next day. So when I arrived the farm not only was it the cycle of the serpent, it was also the rounding up of all the remaining snake energy.

When I arrived at the Mystical Yoga Farm on January 5th, it was the day of the serpent. The farm follows the Peruvian Inca Medicine Wheel where an animal represents each cardinal point. The direction of the wind and the animal that compliments that direction guide the cycle of life at the farm. The serpent is the wind of the south who teaches us the way to walk on the earth with gentleness, beauty and care, who teaches us to shed our past and egos, who is the primary life force, who drives deep into the darkest places, and who is healer and helps us return to innocence. Instantly, this serpent energy spoke to me.

I came to the Mystical Yoga Farm to deepen my journey inward, to strengthen my physical body, to live in harmony with everything around me, to break down walls within me and to stare truth in the eyes. I came to make important changes within myself so that I can be the best version of myself possible and shine my fullest light. I came to grow into the best anchor for others and to life a live where I bring positivity to all.

Many things lead me here. Life lead me here. Sometimes it feels like everything lead me here.

The entrance to the Mystical Yoga Farm

The entrance to the Mystical Yoga Farm

For years I’ve known that I want to dedicate a huge portion of my time studying at an Ashram and living at a spiritual community. This past year at Burning Man, I had a huge wake-up call as to how I was living my life. Saturday morning at Burning Man I rode my bike to the Temple, tears streaming down my face as soon as it was in view. Everything that made me feel happy and complete flooded my mind: health and wellness, eating wholesome food, being outside, practicing yoga, traveling, writing, reading, helping others, fulfilling relationships and connections with people and on and on. After crying and meditating at the Temple, I realized that I was ready to devote myself to practicing yoga and reaching a higher spiritual state. I was ready to connect with my true self and live life through her.

I knew I was ready I just didn’t know where to go. I want to go to India at some point, but at the time I didn’t feel ready to take that step. After traveling in Costa Rica and falling in love with Latin America a few months prior, I wanted to continue learning Spanish. So I knew in my heart I wanted to go back to Latin America.
volcanoes across from farm

A couple weeks after Burning Man I volunteered at Symbiosis, a conscious-awareness music, yoga, art, and dance festival in California. The first day of the festival I talked to some volunteers about studying yoga.

“Then you should definitely check out the Mystical Yoga Farm in Guatemala,” one girl said. Those combination of words: Mystical. Yoga. Farm. Guatemala. were enough to pull me in. Shortly after that I met another girl who recommended the same place. Then I ran into some traveling friends who I hadn’t seen since Costa Rica. They couldn’t stop raving about Guatemala. I’ve always felt called to Guatemala, and then everything was aligned.

The Mystical Yoga Farm is an intentional spiritual community that focuses on self-sustainability, growing fresh organic food and growing healthy yogi’s, teachers and practitioners. Off the grid in a roadless forest along Lago de Atitlán, the only way to access the Mystical Yoga Farm is by boat. The farm blends into the beauty around it. When approaching by boat, you’d miss the farm if you didn’t know it was there. The beauty surrounding the farm is endless.

The path we walk everyday

The path we walk everyday

We sit at the base of Volcán San Pedro, like a dog sits at its master’s feet and we stare directly at Volcán Atitlán. We’re right along one of the most magical lakes in Central America, a lake that’s steeped in Mayan history and culture. Grandfather Rock, a Mayan spiritual land monument, backdrops and shelters us. Mayans
believe that shamans’ souls come here when they die. Lush jungle plants and coffee trees grow around us. They call this part of Guatemala the land of eternal spring. Mornings and nights are chilly, but days are sunny and warm.

Grandfather Rock

Grandfather Rock

We use solar panels for electricity and composting toilets for the bathroom. At night we barely use electricity and instead stick with candles. The internet is spotty and slow, and we don’t use it often.

The Farm holds yoga teacher trainings through SchoolYoga Institute, hosts retreats, welcomes guests for the day, night or multiple nights, and has an active community of volunteers (karma yogi’s) who contribute through various projects. I’m staying on the farm as a Karma Yogi with the Ayani Harmony Tribe. As a member of the Ayani Harmony Tribe I’m a hostess for the farm. I greet guests when they arrive, show them around, and set up their rooms. I help with house-keeping duties, cooking, and gardening. I help with whatever projects are needed. Other than house-keeping duties, I’ve created space for a bench, painted the bench, painted trash bins, learned how to saw steel, and stained bamboo since I’ve been here. Soon I’ll be helping out with editing and social media.

As a Karma Yogi I also get to participate in the daily life of the farm. We meditate and practice yoga in the morning, have a lecture or workshop in the late afternoon and gather for satsang (community reflection usually involving singing) at night. It’s been an incredible experience so far, and I fall more in love with my surroundings each moment.

Want some Mystical Yoga Farm in your life? Hop on a boat!

From Santiago a private boat should cost no more than Q40 cuarenta quetzals.

Here we are in the grand scheme of the lake:
Getting to Mystical Yoga FarmThe closest village is Chacaya, a ten-to-fifteen minute walk along the lake. The closest boat ride is from Santiago. Check out the farm’s website for the getting to the farm guide.
The farm’s website also has tons of information about retreats, visits and volunteering. The volunteer commitment is for one month. If I wasn’t at the farm volunteering, I’d definitely visit as a guest. It’s the perfect place to relax, reflect and go deep within yourself.

My view at the farm as I was writing this blog post.

My view at the farm as I was writing this blog post.

Since the internet is spotty at the farm, I took a boat across the lake to Restaurante Bambú. Here’s my  current view as I post this blog:

The view from Restaurante Bambú.

The view from Restaurante Bambú.

Ah, life is so good.