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Cancun

Love is a Fluid and Living Thing

Comfortably nestled in my ample seat, I remained in a trance as the plane ascended, wheels tucked into the underbelly of the aircraft with a familiar whine and distant clunk, the gorgeous turquoise waters of Cancun spread from a small strip to a vast sea, and cloud cover finally obstructed my view out the window. It was then I realized my face was drenched with tears. The transformation of the week finally bubbled up from my formerly broken heart and christened my cheeks with all the blessings of a deeply transformational meditation retreat at an exquisite all-inclusive resort in Riviera Maya.

The allure of Cancun often conjures images of turquoise waters, pristine beaches, and vibrant nightlife. Yet, beyond the sun-soaked sands lies a realm where history whispers through ancient stones and the spirit of a lost civilization lingers in the air. My journey to Cancun was not just a pilgrimage into the heart of the Mayan world, a quest to uncover the spiritual and historical treasures of Chichen Itza; it was also a journey to my own inner world that was just as rich with history, mystery,

spiritual connection, and awe.

Until that moment on the plane, I had not fully realized how much life had crushed my spirit and how many years I’d spent trying to repair it, yet somehow always managing to avoid it. I had let repetition and uninspiring choices become the unconscious foundation for decades of my life. My copious adventurous experiences, including this trip to Cancun, were not constructing the foundation of my life. Instead, I was going through the motions in the hopes that my adventures would arouse passion in me.

Prior to the meditation retreat, I visited the sacred sites of Chichen Itza, the most renowned of the Mayan ruins, a UNESCO World Heritage site that stands as a testament to the ingenuity and mysticism of the Mayan civilization. The pyramid’s precise alignment with the sun during the equinoxes, creating the illusion of a serpent descending its steps, is a striking example of the Mayans’ deep connection to celestial cycles. This place wasn’t just a city; it was a sacred center where the heavens and earth converged in a harmonious dance.

I’d chosen to attend the meditation retreat in Cancun to break free from what had become an uncomfortably comfortable life of boredom in my career as a professor. I resigned from my position, and the very same day, I flew to Cancun for the meditation retreat. The retreat was an exquisite dance of love, surrender, experimentation, madness, and internal compression paired with external chaos and marked by a pace at which an Olympic athlete would balk. The hours trained us to repeatedly flex the muscles of the mind and body. Just when we thought we could anticipate what was next, our minds were blown again by connection to the unknown. By day two, the truth became crystal clear. It is only possible to have a new experience when we are no longer fixed on external patterns and repetitive thoughts of the past and future.

Cancun

During my journey inward, I was reminded of the Mayan ruins, temples, and sacred sites I’d visited before the retreat started. The Mayans’ sacred sites were functional and represented their profound connection to the land and the cosmos. Their cities were not just places of habitation but sacred spaces meticulously designed to honor their gods and the natural world. The Mayans understood that their lives were intertwined with the cycles of nature and the movements of the stars, a wisdom that resonates deeply even today.  It was easy to see how the Mayan people could transcend into mystical realms. The stillness, magnificence, and magical quality of the surrounding land transported me to an otherworldly place, and the temple was my inner world.

In meditation, it was only me and my fellow retreat participants in a dance through a similar otherworldly place. Our sacred space was not a temple, just a massive ballroom. On our inner journey, the scattered stars of potential experiences came together in energetic constellations that we could potentially weave into new narratives.

We practiced with each other, and I formed a magnificent connection with one of the retreat participants. This beautiful person gave me the space to be imperfect (if not totally broken, insecure, and fraught with awkward coping mechanisms) and held me with love and patience as I cartwheeled through time and space to arrive back in my body with a completely new experience of myself. Together, we broke down the labyrinth of walls we had constructed in our minds to give us a sense of security. We discovered the walls were ultimately cells in which we felt trapped and helpless. No matter how much we wanted to change in the outer world, those walls kept us securely fixed in predictable outcomes. It helped me to journey within and then share those experiences with another person along the way.

Toward the end of the retreat, our meditation guide’s lilting voice took us on a journey to the mystical. It was a process of creating coherence between the heart and the brain. All week, I had been inching my way toward the goal of truly getting there, yet I kept falling short. This time, I stopped trying. I was exhausted and decided to just listen and follow the guide’s directions. I was too tired to keep up the effort, so I just let the music and words take me along the river of possibility. Eyes closed, mind awake, body resting, and focus on the breath; I slipped outside of space and time. My body dissolved into nothing, and I was consumed by pure love.

It turns out falling in love is different than what I expected. That seamless telescoping process of merging the inner and outer worlds is what love feels like. It is a harmony of internal and external realities, fluid construction and deconstruction of experiences that constantly change us into greater experiences, and it is merging with the expansion and contraction of the mystical and corporeal worlds. Maybe the Mayans felt the same thing through the grandeur and mystery of Chichen Itza. The intricacies in construction, placement on the land, and connection to celestial brothers and sisters. Love is a fluid and living thing. When we immerse ourselves in it, we are whole again.

by Jan Wakefield