Divided Heart

Last Sunday, on the bus to Pance, I turned to my best friend, Sita, who left England 8 years ago and has lived abroad, all over the world, ever since, and I asked her, "Do you ever get over the pain of living in multiple cultures?"

She replied directly, "Naw, mate. Never."

As we spoke, I looked out the bus windows toward the hazy blue mountains in the distance, feeling comfortably at home in the landscape. I'd been mulling over the unstable romantic relationship I'm involved in while at the same time acknowledging the fact that I love it here, when suddenly I realized that the slow, churning, dull stab of pain in my gut was the presence of two loves struggling with one another.

My dear Spanish friend Paloma came for a visit a couple months ago. She lives and works in Brussels, Belgium where the offices of the European Union are located. Her words to describe the situation we're in were equally blunt: "Once you go ex-pat, you're fucked."

I ended up here due to a heart-expanding experience of love. I dropped everything in my life: my job, my yoga classes, my house, and most traumatically, my partner of 10 years, because a romantic Mexican man swept me off my feet and loved me so much that my free sprit was irrepressibly reborn.

Even as I fell in love with Vlady, I didn't fall out of love with any part of my past, and I realized deeply and powerfully how vast and capable and inclusive our hearts can be. Love lifted me out of Santa Cruz and, over the last year and a half, lead me to Joshua Tree, Hawaii, Santa Fe, Panamá, Colombia, and yes, back to Baja Sur, Mexico. Everywhere I go, I freely tie my heart to the place and to the people I'm with.

Now, my heart is strewn across the world, and I feel a bit unhinged by all the distance.

Meanwhile, Cali is a big city. It's dense and urban and full of relentless energy. It's noisy and difficult to settle down enough to really connect with people or with the moment. I've never lived anywhere like this before.

As a backpacker, I always avoided spending too much time in large cities due to the stresses of traffic, concrete, air pollution, noise pollution, and human density. About a month ago, I suddenly realized, not only am I surrounded by a huge city, but also, I'm surrounded almost entirely by city people. These are not the deeply laid back folks you find on beaches, in the mountains, and exploring the jungle when you travel to exotic countries. These are competitive, fashionable, talkative, technological, opinionated people who don't spend much time slowing down. Ever since that slow-to-dawn realization, I've enjoyed a fervent longing for the solace of quiet redwood trees and the sound of ocean waves.

Gratefully, I'm in touch with most of the Santa Cruz people I feel closest to, however there are five things about life in Santa Cruz that consistently plague me with longing.

• Nature - Particularly, the redwood forests and the ocean.
• Having a yoga teacher - I've been on my own here, teaching and practicing alone. It's difficult to maintain discipline and inspiration, but I'm doing it. Just barely.
• Upper body strength - I was a strong rock climber when I left Santa Cruz. Now, I'm constantly faced with the weakness of my arms and hands as I try to pick up heavy things that once would have been effortless for me to lift.
• Salsa by the Sea - Dancing in my home culture, outdoors, next to the beach, at sunset. Ahhh.
• Meeting Mosi - I left before Rachel brought Mosi into the world and have missed the profound transformations that have come with him. Ack. Sob! < clutches heart >

However, ironically, once I'm reunited with all these things, estaré a falta de the special aspects of life in Cali: communicating in Colombian Spanish, taking salsa lessons with Carlos, eating sancocho (Colombia has mastered the art of soup), dancing Cali-style salsa with Orlando, Alejandro, Carlos, Ricardo, Sergio, Javier, Wilber, Jazon... teaching yoga to people from all over the world, the cool, gentle breezes that come down off the mountains in the evenings, running my fingers through Renato's hair (soft, beautiful, black ringlets... swoon), and the sheer quantity of celebratory human energy that's always rippling through this place.

Typically, wherever I am, there's no one around who can truly share in the daydream of these other places. I hold my distant loves alone.

So Cali and Santa Cruz are wrestling with one another over my body, mind, and heart, and it's literally causing me physical pain. Not to mention that another part of my heart is waiting for me in Baja and that my heart vision for the future takes me to Israel, Europe, and beyond... suspira.

I've planned a 2 month trip back to the US with a short week in Baja Sur before I return for another semester of Spanish at the University here in Cali. Having this trip ahead of me triggers many emotions. Sometimes I feel done here. Other times, I can't imagine leaving. All the time, I feel like I'm getting older y que no quiero perder mi tiempo.

So, the last several days, I've been doing a lot of breathing and listening, feeling into the confusion in my body and in my heart, and giving my attention to the conflicts. Ultimately, I trust that love led me here, and that if I keep listening, love will continue to lead me where I need to go.