When I was hiking in Barichara with my Israeli buddy, I told him my story about being inspired by friends doing adventurous things and my frustration with my job and past relationships; all the things that brought me here. I told him how I read Wild by Cheryl Strayed and felt inspired to go off on a journey solo. He laughed and asked if I had watched The New Girl where CiCi reads a book about a woman who climbed a mountain and then decides that she must climb a mountain too. I laughed and agreed. “Yep, I guess that’s me.”
At Refugio la Roca I climbed, hiked and fell. A lot. Every morning I woke up to watch the sunrise and practice yoga. I drank coffee and prepared breakfast with eggs and veggies from the farm across the street.
Plantains on everything. Seriously, they are the best. I taught yoga classes, and spent some days on the rock, some days in the yoga studio and some days I explored.
I climbed with a couple of girls from California and the rest were from all around: Norway, Spain, Colombia, Sweden, New Zealand, and France. All inspired and challenged me.
When we climbed we spoke many languages. I attempted Spanish while others spoke French. We supported each other, yelling “Si se puede!” and “Superbueno” as we anchored and ascended.
And there was always someone to remind me: Mover con sus pies…
Utilice sus pies!
Confianzas tus pies!
Trust your feet.
As our languages began to blend together, at some point we all started yelling, “Trust your pies!”
I climbed with Indigo for a day and man. It. Was. Tough. He practically hoisted me up the rock, setting routes that were crazy hard for me. But he always told me, “Si se puede.” Yes you can. After I exhausted myself on the rock, it was nice to stare into the canyon…
Letting the earth and the sky guide me back to stillness.
My yoga routine became my daily bread. I hungered for it every morning.
I taught classes in English and Spanish.
Private sessions with some badass climbers
And sometimes we were joined by our furry friend
All this made sleeping in a container on a hard cot not quite so terrible.
Even as I write this from an old bunk bed in Granada, Nicaragua with no air conditioning I can say with confidence that sacrificing comforts and privileges to experience something beautiful is worth it. It’s been a month and I still miss my home on the rock. It’s an airplane and three bus rides away. At least I have my daily yoga practice, hands and feet that clung to sandstone and an old worn mat nestled above a magical canyon.
Trust your pies! Trust the ground beneath you. Move with your core. Even when you’re not sure of the next step, you just have to keep going. Si se puede! Es la verdad 🙂