Power Outages of the Soul
|Another breath-taking Taganga sunset|
It was in Taganga,Colombia that we fell in love again with the sunset. It was our first time living off the ocean since Las Lajas, Panama. And what waters they were; and what sunsets- round, whole, orange fleeting sunsets. Taganga is basically your overrated fisherman’s town which tourist flock to for no apparent reason. They have too many power outages, not much too to do, and overpriced corner stores; in addition to, a charm that is hard to verbalize and a laid back energy hard to emulate. We fell in love with Taganga, Colombia. She, and the powerful life lesson she taught us, stay stay fondly imprinted in our minds and hearts.
It was in Taganga that Kobi checked off something he had had on his bucket list from our last Latin American sojourn fifteen years earlier: scuba diving! And because we are totally into making all of our dreams come true, we hung out in the MoraMar Hostel off the soccer field while Kobi made his dream come true. And between exercising on that field, doing studies, and chillin with the four Israelis and Gabi from the hostel; I worked, and worked, and worked on my online empire.
|kobi making one of his life-long dreams come true- he’s a certified scuba diver|
While in Taganga, I was still uploading a video a day to our growing YouTube channel. Ryan at http://www.halfthrottle.com was still lovingly sending us new subscribers every day, and I was determined to keep up with Ryan’s advice that “a video a day is not too much.” And then, it started… the power outages. The first one, for two days; the second; for almost three days.
Everything in our fridge rotted, the heat in the rooms without the ceiling fans was unbearable, the four cold showers a day only brought only momentary relief. And (gasp!) I, I could not upload videos to The Nomadic Family YouTube Channel! I freaked! Now, freak as I would, I couldn’t go down the street to another location; the town was dark. I couldn’t drive to the nearest town, it was quite a way out of those hills to the nearest spot (which was a dump that smelled of their leaking sewer water problems, too much traffic, too many holes in the street, and too many poor people roaming in them all day- that’s another story).
|the electric company men working right outside of our moramor hostel|
So, the Universe kicked my overly-productive online ass and made me sit still. And guess what freaky things happened then? I began listening to my kids’ conversations, talking to fellow backpackers, taking longer walks along the shores of Taganga; reading, and napping. Imagine that.. napping. How glorious!
Little did I know then but Taganga, Colombia became the gateway drug for my overall therapy from ‘doing’. Taganga, Colombia became the spiritual springboard from which I would taste the void of nothingness, learn to deal with (and eventually enjoy) the helpless, futile-ness of trying to be productive, when I was supposed to sit still. Taganga, Colombia became the start of learning ‘to be’.
|we even had a hammock in our room- can the Universe invite us “to be” more than this?|
As you watch the video, note how Kobi and the Moramor staff guy (whose name I forgot!) are just sitting in rocking chairs, chillin. Notice how the kids are creating an obstacle course out of stones on the ping pong table. And, note that amazing song those four traveling artisans from Argentina are singing. I have been humming that song for the past six months and still have not yet found a person to tell me the name of that song. My soul knows it from somewhere far, far away. If you know the name of the song, PLEASE TELL ME! My soul requires it!
But, I digress (and yet, I actually don’t). This are the sort of casual, reflective, light thoughts that flitter into your heart when you are not so busy being productive: Where do I know that song from? What can we discover about each other for three hours on these damn rocking chairs? Will I read my book or just fall asleep trying on those lovely orange-toned hammocks?
I lovingly recall those post-hurricane power outage days in Houston where we all walked around the house and actually talked to each other in soft candle light. Seriously, do we need the power to go out to reconnect to ourselves? Do we need candles and welting heat to force us to stop being productive? Do we need technology and electronic systems to break for us to bond to our fellow man?
I would say, no; but, it seems we do. We’ve gotten so good at being productive. It’s what the world has taught us- to utilize ” the unforgiving minute with sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,” to grab that day planner and squeeze every God-damn ounce of life out of it. And so, another gift of world travel, as I continue to live naked and free, is that I don’t have to have something force me to be, to be, to be. Imagine what would happen in our lives if we all walked around in soft candle light, and just were.
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