Rain Rain Go Away . . .

Come again another day. I remember singing this when I was a child. Quite often. I would wish it wasn't raining so I could be outside, barefoot, in the sunshine playing with my tree and animal friends. I find myself wishing it now. Odd, because I live in a state of the US where rain is precious and wonderful and valuable. But here, in Tingo Maria, I want it to stop raining. I don't want it be gray outside. The environment is stunning, absolutely amazing, and I am stuck inside. BUT. Maybe this is what I need. I have been feeling physically and spiritually run down lately. I guess it's normal after my climactic aya experience which I am still digesting. We have been on the road since early Tuesday morning, hoping to have arrived in Cusco by now, but we have not even reached our halfway mark yet, which is La Oroya. Melusine has taught me much about traveling cheaply, way cheaply, but this way also takes waaaaaay longer. We have met resistance along the way in the form of not being able to find camionetas or camions (little trucks or big, delivery trucks) that are willing to take a group of four. After waiting almost two days in Tocache, we finally met Alex, who drives a petroleum truck. He agreed to bring us to Tingo Maria for free. Sweet man. Melusine and I got to ride up front with him while the muchachos had to ride in the back, under a tarp. At one point, right outside of Tocache, we were stopped by the policia. I looked at Alex, trying to gauge how worried he was. He appeared unruffled even though it is illegal to transport people in the back of trucks. The police asked him what he was carrying, asked to see his papers, and then commenced to climb the ladder leading to the back of the truck. Melu and I were holding our breath, hoping he wouldn't see the guys back there. They were back there a long time, the police and Alex, and then Alex finally returned. He said he had to pay the 10 soles, which is not a whole lot, and we were all really relieved. We felt a little sorry for the guys, knowing how they must have felt. So, now we're in Tingo and really want to get on the road again. It seems that I am having to let go of my attachment to the idea of going back to San Roque to work with the kids. At this rate, we won't reach Machu Picchu for at least a week, then we are still going to Lake Titicaca, the floating islands, and into Bolivia where I would like to spend at least a week. Everyone says how much cheaper it is to travel in Bolivia than Peru and it's a relief. Staying there longer might be a consideration, but who knows? One day at a time. I have been feeling poopy lately--my stomach is so fickle. I think I will give it a break today by not eating anything. I need to balance myself out again. Poor Joakim is really bad off. He has resorted to taking his antibacterial medicine. It seems he is in the restroom all of the time. I haven´t had a lot of time alone and I can feel the strain of not processing or not reflecting on what is happening. Haven't been able to sit in solitude to take things in, and when that happens, my energy level becomes depleted. Just sitting here, journaling, is healing for me. A release. I miss Jimmy, my man. Weird how sometimes you have to travel halfway across the world, or at least to another hemisphere, to realize what you really do want. Traveling is grand, I really enjoy it. But I miss the beauty and simplicity of my small village. I miss my life in Pecos and I certainly miss my Love. I think we both are coming to realize how much we mean to one another. Before coming here, before ayahuasca, before an immense healing, I loved him with a love that could have been called neediness. I needed him. I, without realizing it, was putting too much on him and was not loving him for the sake of love. I was attached. I was clingy. I thought I would be miserable without him. I quit taking from my Source, placing him instead in that space. And from this objectivity, I can see it all now. When things were bad between us, or at least shaky, my confidence in myself was shaky. I was sad. I couldn't be happy. And now I can see how unhealthy it all was. I guess a part of me was worried that if I came down here, I would realize that didn't want to be with him, or that I had only been with him for comfort and security. But nope. I realize that comfort and security were some of the reasons I was with him, but also because of love. Genuine love. I can feel that love inside of me and it is beautiful. Light. I want him to be happy. His happiness means a lot to me. I want to share in his life and he in mine. Before I left to Peru, he let me go. This was a selfless act of Love on his part. I didn't understand. I felt rejected, but now I can see how much wisdom this man has. But I also think he was confused, too. We had reached a point where we both didn't know what we wanted. And now, from his emails and conversations, I can see us growing closer, realizing what a precious thing we have in one another. Love. But there is so much to see in Peru and I am choosing to live my life moment by moment. No planning. No worrying. Just daily breathing in and out. I am reading a book called A Manual for Mindfulness and it reminds me how unless we can live in the moment in mindfulness and awareness, we are not truly living at all.