From black hole to shining star

On June 11th at 11:11 a.m., a stranger messaged me. The universe must have known that, on June 12th, I would have a meltdown, and the one who would help me rise again was the person whose name had just popped up on my phone.

For the first six months of this year, I would wake up every morning wishing I didn’t exist. January 1st brought devastating news that shook my family, and I ended up seeking solace from a situation that had already shattered my confidence for far too long. On top of that, I was juggling two jobs and trying to be an entrepreneur yet somehow, my finances never seemed stable.

As winter crept towards spring, I sank deeper into darkness. Anxiety filled my chest and at an alarming pace, PTSD-symptoms such as panic attacks, flashbacks and nightmares returned to my life. Still, I kept thinking: “If I can just make it for one more day, one more week, one more month, then everything will be alright.” I kept practicing gratitude and feverishly repeated affirmations, but nothing worked.

Then came June 12th, and everything crashed. My spirit was broken, and I knew that something had to change. Fortunately, the summer holidays were just around the corner so I escaped to Madeira, where I hiked to the highest mountain and slowly started picking up the pieces. As the fog of past events lifted, the stranger who had messaged me earlier came into focus.

By now, I knew that his name was Luke and that he lived in Australia. I knew he liked the colour green and shared my passion for hiking. I also learned that he had gone through past struggles not unlike my own. We had a clarity call to see if his coaching would be right for me and despite my initial hesitation, I was struck by his genuine compassion.

I asked the universe for a sign, and for the rest of my holidays, the name Luke rained over me. In every book I read and every movie I watched, there was a character named Luke. If I listened to a podcast, there was a guest named Luke. If I discovered a new song, it would be sung by an artist called Luke (or Luca). I even saw his name written on a lamp post! The message was loud and clear.

Once I returned home, Luke offered me another clarity call and the next day, I sent him all the money I had at the time. My friends were skeptical. “What if he hypnotises you and then switches off the computer and you stay hypnotised forever?” one of them worried. “Don’t give him any information!” another one advised.

But I knew that if this was going to work, I would have to trust Luke completely. I would have to be brave, and vulnerable. My decision was not based on reviews or referrals, or even logic (in hindsight, I could have done more research). It was pure intuition. I was fully committed, ready and desperate to change my life.

And so Luke and I embarked on a 6-week quantum transformation journey, including timeline therapy and reprogramming of the subconscious mind, delving into traumas and underlying blocks. One by one, we cleared out negative emotions such as anger, sadness, fear, hurt and guilt, and rewired my nervous system for positive emotions. We removed negative beliefs and installed new empowered beliefs.

The rapid changes were astonishing, and newfound joy fuelled my motivation. Luke sent me six digital courses to work on in between our sessions and after just a few weeks, I had gone through them all, surprised to discover that I had become extremely interested in neuroscience. Engrossed, I devoured any information I could find and filled notebook after notebook.

About halfway through, I unexpectedly fell back into the black hole that I thought I had expanded from. Only this time, I managed to crawl out of it myself and found that I could stand firmly on my own two feet. That’s when I knew that something fundamental had shifted.

The coaching program was not an easy process for me. There were days when I didn’t show up as my best self and there were days when I wanted to quit because there were past events that I didn’t dare to revisit. There were times when I felt embarrassed, and there were times when I felt lost in between sessions. There were, however, more moments when I felt truly connected, and I experienced profound love and happiness. No matter what, I kept going, knowing Luke would always be there to support me.

Step by step, my spirit began to heal. These days, I wake up excited to do yoga and see what else the day brings. I haven’t had a panic attack in months, and my sleep is no longer interrupted by nightmares. I can breathe more easily, and for the first time in my life, I feel safe and at home in my body. My confidence has improved and I feel more comfortable being myself. I worry less about what other people think and focus more on creating my own path.

I have learned how to set boundaries, proving that I can stand up for myself and make the right decisions. I now understand that it is not my job to protect others from facing the consequences of their own actions. I have found a strength inside myself that I never knew I had.

I have gone from feeling burned out at work to showing up each day full of energy. I feel a lot more comfortable in my teacher role, whether it’s teaching languages, dance or yoga. In January, all my yoga courses were canceled, but when I offered them again in August, they sold out within an hour!

Two years ago, I published my first book, which was followed by imposter syndrome and writer’s block. Now, I’m writing every day again, which feels fantastic. I have set new goals for the future and I’m excitedly taking steps towards them. My motto is “I’m happy in the present moment, and I allow good things to come to me.”

At 42, I feel like life is just beginning. This experience has inspired me so much that I have even decided to study hypnotherapy for a year. Perhaps helping others is the best way to thank the no-longer stranger who popped into my life and changed everything for the better.

Reasons to stay alive

It was a Tuesday night in October last year. I was working late as usual and it was just me and another teacher in the staffroom at our academic center in the North of Madrid. This tall handsome stranger and I had been introduced at the beginning of the school year but we hadn’t really talked since then. We were both tapping away at our computers when he started a conversation. "Do you like reading?" he asked from behind his screen and I looked up. I looked at him, then looked away.

I didn’t know how to say that yes, I used to love books but now the mere thought of reading one was so exhausting that I couldn’t even bring myself to try. Finishing a book seemed like an impossible task to accomplish and I didn’t want to add to my never-ending list of failures. I didn’t know how to explain that when you’re overwhelmed by anxiety, reading two sentences after another is already a major undertaking. It's like reading a text with no punctuation - it makes absolutely no sense. 

"I like writing." My timid voice broke the awkward silence a while later when the part of me that longed for human connection suddenly decided to speak up. The other teacher smiled. "I know a great bookstore. You should go some time." I scribbled down the name and address he gave me and we said goodnight. Desperate literature. That was the name of the bookstore and it made me wonder how much misery my face had given away. 

Three days later, I had a free afternoon and decided to go for it. Now, to a normal person, stepping into unknown territory may not seem like such a big deal, but for someone with panic disorder, it requires careful planning and plenty of courage. So when I arrived only to find the store closed for siesta, I did what no normal person would do. I sat down and waited. For two hours. Because I knew that if I left, I would never come back.

The doors finally opened and a friendly girl with purple hair welcomed me. I entered and literally stumbled over a book called Reasons to stay alive, which had been placed on a small table right in front of the door. I picked it up and read the few lines on the back page, then held the book close to my chest.

Desperate Literature

It was a book written by Matt Haig and it had spoken my name as I was waiting outside. I instinctively knew that this must be why I had been sent here but, unfortunately, I couldn’t afford to buy it. I was still paying off the debts of my hospital bills and wasn’t supposed to spend any money so I put the book down and had a look around.

The shop was small and there were books upon books stacked on the shelves covering the walls all the way up to the ceiling. I took three steps into the back room and found a section of French classics, which I carefully held in my hand before lifting them up to my nose, randomly opening pages and breathing in the smell of words. Sentences. Stories. Sensations. Was this what happiness felt like? I couldn’t quite remember.

I walked in circles around the store and each time I passed the front table I picked up Matt Haig's book again. “We take credit cards!” the cashier cried out the fifth time I came around. My hands shook as I handed her the book along with my card, which was supposed to be for emergencies only. “I’ll take it.”

That night, I didn’t sleep. For the first time in what felt like forever although in reality was only a year, I had someone who understood. Who had been where I was. Who knew what it’s like to stand on the edge, contemplating another step. Matt and I spoke the same language. We talked about insomnia, inability to speak, air too thin to breathe, disconnection, dread, darkness, the weight of guilt, trying to keep afloat, not having a single waking second outside of fear and longing, above all else, to just feel normal.

But not only did Matt understand, he also gave me hope. He didn’t say that it will all be okay because how could it possibly ever be okay. He said it takes time. He said one day, you will see a tiny bit of the blue sky emerge behind the clouds again. You will read one (short) paragraph, then maybe one more and eventually, you will finish a whole chapter. And then start a new one, while leaving an old one behind.

He made me see that depression and anxiety are liars who tell us things that aren’t true. He promised me that even when I feel like I'm sinking, there is a stronger part of me that remains steady. He assured me that pleasure can grow out of the pain and that I will one day feel a joy that matches this sadness. That is the hope that I still live by today and if I forget, I dive into Matt's book to remind myself again. In fact, in the year that has passed since I first visited Desperate Literature, I have read over twenty books and enjoyed every single one of them.

The tall handsome stranger and I never really had a conversation again. We passed by each other in the hallways at work a couple of times, but I never knew how to say thank you. I didn’t know how to tell him how much his words had meant to me. Not just the recommendation but the fact that he saw me when I felt invisible and alone in the world.

We never know what someone is going through, but we also never know who needs to hear what we have to say. Nothing is random and no kind word is ever wasted so don’t be afraid to reach out and break the silence. You might just give someone a reason to live.

Inhale - stay in the present moment. Exhale - it's a wonderful moment.

10 ways to healing

2018 won't exactly go down as the best year of my life. Then again, there is something very special about being able to move your legs de nuevo after having learned the hard way what it feels like when you can't. These days I notice and appreciate the way my feet touch the ground and carry me forward each day, step by step. A new friend in Madrid said he couldn't understand why I always take the stairs in the metro station when standing still on the escalator would give me a chance to rest before catching the next train or teaching the next class. My answer to him was simple: I walk, because I can. 

Here's what I've learned this year about how to keep going when the going gets tough: 

1. Grieve 

A few weeks ago, I had planned a kids class that I expected to be fun. Kids love animals, right? Unfortunately, one of the young girls in my class burst into tears as soon as I brought out the flashcards. Apparently, the fluffy-kitten card reminded her of a cat that she had once had. She continued crying uncontrollably for the next sixty minutes and was still sobbing when I walked her downstairs for her next lesson. 

Neither she nor I could have foreseen the flood of tears coming that day. This is what grief is like. It comes and goes and sometimes, the waves are so strong that we are completely swept away. Inundated. Overwhelmed. What we need to remember is that these waves are just feelings in motion and we must allow them to move through us, releasing anything that is holding us back. So whatever you're grieving, whether it's a pet, a loved one or a long-lost dream - let it flow. 

2. Let it be

We often talk about letting go but honestly, I don't know how to do that. Neither does the adorable little girl in my class. Since the first lesson about animals, she has gone back to being her bubbly self, yet she keeps the kitten flashcard right next to her on the desk. This is what grief eventually turns into. Memories. Love. Letting things be as they are. Holding on to the memories doesn't have to stop us from living in and enjoying the present moment. 

3. Be grateful

One of the pastors at my church lost his wife to cancer this year. Still, with tears in his eyes, he doesn't speak to us about loss. He tells us how grateful he is for the long happy marriage that they had. He sings and dances and cries, showing us how to grieve and be joyous at the same time. He teaches us to be thankful for the food on our plates and the roof above our head. For our families. For the people praying for us. For a God that always hears our prayers, even though sometimes, the answer is no.

4. Medicate with care

I have mixed feelings about the treatment that I received for my reactive arthritis in Ecuador. I have no doubt that the doctors there did what they thought was best, although sometimes I wonder if such an excess of medicine was necessary. I tried to speak up but was told that I don't understand what is happening in my body and that I need to trust the experts or else things will get worse.

Hence, I opened my mouth when they fed me cortisone that made my face swell. I accepted a hard-core chemotherapy drug that cost me my hair. I swallowed sleeping pills and anti-anxiety remedies that provoke suicidal thoughts, plus ten other pharmaceutical substances, five times a day. I'm thankful that they healed my body but I'm resentful about the destructive side-effects. I just finished my last dose and have no intention of taking any more, no matter what the doctors say. Nobody knows my body better than me.

5. Meditate

My Mexican roommate recently came back from a two-week meditation retreat in a Buddhist temple. She returned with a spiritual glow around her and a new-found enthusiasm for life. "There is nothing in this world to be angry about," she said, hugging me. "The peace is within us." One week later, that peace was truly tested when the water tank in our apartment exploded in the middle of the night, leaving us without hot water for days. Finding a plumber so close to Christmas turned out to be a tricky task, although we did succeed in the end.

Meditating doesn't (only) mean sitting crossed-legged in a temple, stilling your mind while closing your eyes to the world outside. It is what gives us the tools to remain calm and deal with reality when things fall apart and we're wading around knee-high in freezing water.

I like to start my day by saying thanks and I usually end it with a guided sleep meditation. This little ritual hasn't transformed my life overnight, but I believe that if I stick with it, it will bring about some positive changes.

6. Forgive to be forgiven

At the beginning of this year, I didn't know how to say sorry, I was unsure about what to apologize and not apologize for and I was clueless about how to forgive those who had hurt me. Then the arthritis hit and broke down all my defenses. Messengers started showing up out of nowhere, talking to me about Jesus and unconditional love.

It took me six months of therapy to finally open up and deal with the traumas of 2017 and even though I have yet to find any meaning or sense in what happened that year, I no longer avoid the unpleasant recollections. I let them be. Through forgiving others, I have arrived to what I really needed, i.e. forgiving myself for the mistakes that I made.

7. Create

One of the best things we can do with a broken heart is turn it into art. For me, that means writing, drawing and taking photographs. For you, it may be something completely different. It doesn't matter. Let's keep creating and making this world a beautiful place to be.

8. Ask for and accept help

This year has certainly taught me how to reach out. Life put me in a position where I had no choice but to depend on others and it made me humble. I no longer care about showing my flaws and imperfections; we all have them anyway.

For example, I let my Italian roommate deal with things around the house since he knows how and I don't. At work, I ask senior teachers for support as I haven't had a lot of training teaching kids and at church, I listen to those who have read the Bible because mine has been resting on a shelf for twenty years.

I'm also completely taken back by the amount of support that I have received from friends, family, co-workers and strangers throughout the year. Humbled, truly. This has been a complicated lesson for me because I like to be independent and do things on my own, but maybe it's true what they say: The universe wants to hold us, we just have to let it.

9. Give back

I may not know much about planning lessons for kids, but I do have ten years of experience teaching teenagers and sharing some of this knowledge with new teachers makes me happy. Earlier this year, I started doubting myself as a teacher and was seriously considering a career change. As it turns out, this was just another side effect of the arthritis. Once my health improved, my passion for teaching returned and now I have the motivation to become an even better teacher.

I still treasure one of the first gratitude cards I got from a student a long time ago. "You're not just a language teacher," she had written. "I can feel that you genuinely care about your students and want us to do well." She was right. This is what God has called me to do and so I will continue.

We don't have to move mountains or save the world in one day. Simply being kind and assisting people around us goes a long way. It may mean the world to someone and in addition, it makes us feel better.

10. Change your mind

Many people have talked to me about the importance of positive thinking. While I appreciate their support, I think it's important to keep in mind that we see things as we are but other people's perspective may be different. It is also a fact that mental health conditions such as depression can physically alter the brain, making it very difficult to have shiny thoughts, no matter how hard one tries. It may therefore be worth remembering that shaming and blaming isn't helpful. That being said, it is possible (and allowed) to change your mind.

The first step towards that is to accept whatever you're feeling in this moment. Frustration, fear, fatigue? Okay, let's start there. The second step is to pay attention to that little voice inside your head. What is it saying? Challenge it. Is it true? Mine has been telling me lies for years. Now, I try to meet it with patience and gentleness, pointing out that harsh words are no longer necessary.

After all, 2018 was not the year I nearly drowned. It was the year I stayed afloat, despite some freakishly huge waves. So I'm thinking maybe 2019 will be the year that I learn how to surf.

Just waiting for the ice to melt...

I left my heart in Quito

It's late at night, we're on a crowded bus and my friends have fallen asleep in their seats, worn out after a long day of hiking. I, on the other hand, keep my eyes wide open because I want to see Quito by night one last time. Driving into this capital in the highlands always makes me feel so happy and peaceful; it's like coming home. Now, it reminds me of the first night I arrived, when it was pitch dark and I had to wait until the next morning to step outside my apartment and see the mountains for the first time. My first week in Quito was one of the happiest in my life. My then love invited me to have breakfast on his balcony and as I sat there wearing his white shirt, trying not to spill while watching the mountains and soaking up the sunshine, I thought... I might be falling in love. 

Mi Quito bonito

How could you not love this city?

The bus driver turns up the volume as another reggeaton song comes on. It's No te vas by Venezuelan singer Nacho and I recognize every word of the lyrics: "De aquí no te vas sin mí, de aquí no me voy sin ti - You will never leave from here without me, I will never leave from here without you." It's the song that my boyfriend used to sing to me while playing with my hair and even though my heart aches from no longer being in that moment and in his arms, I know that I am very blessed to have experienced such love. 

I get back to my apartment which is already half empty and as I pack up the rest of my things, the walls speak to me of all the happy times that I spent here. They also remind me of that one night that I woke up in agonizing pain to watch in horror as my right hand and left foot kept swelling. It was two o'clock in the morning when I reached for the phone with my left hand to ask my friends to take me to the hospital. I knew there and then that something was very wrong and my body hasn't been the same since then. Nor has my life. Learning to live with a chronic disease has changed everything, but not necessarily for the worse. I have learned to have more understanding of those in a similar situation and I hope that I've become more compassionate, towards others as well as myself. 

My goodbye party in Molinuco - La Gran Cascada del Pita 

My phone beeps. My friends are sharing pictures from our hiking trip in the jungle and as I watch them, these adventurous souls that I love so much, I feel nothing but gratitude. There are my colleagues, making silly faces and enjoying a day out in nature. There are my friends who have been by my side all along. And there's one of my first friends that I hadn't seen in so long and when I hugged her today, all the memories of those first days in Quito came back. So much has happened, so much has changed. She sends me a message the next day, saying: "I hope you'll find your way back to being the warrior you once were." 

It hits me then, how much I've changed and how lost I really feel. "I forgot who I am", I whisper to my other friend, the one who knows me best. He puts his arm around me and replies in his gentle way: "Even warriors fall down, amiga. Especially when they get beaten over and over again. But here's the thing - a true warrior always gets back up, no matter how long it takes." 

Guápulo

La Floresta

My last weeks in Quito, I say goodbye to all my favorite places in the city, leaving my footprints and little pieces of my heart in every corner. I stop by at work to clean out my space and enjoy the view of the mountains one last time. I go to Guápulo and La Floresta, my favorite neighborhoods, to take a ton of pictures of the colorful graffiti. I go to the historic center in the south with my first friend in Ecuador and as we manage to sneak into a hidden garden and convince the guard to let us climb up to the church tower after hours, I realize that my favorite memories are of my adventures with her. 

Iglesia San Francisco Garden 

Centro histórico Quito - view of el Panecillo

Finally, I climb to the top of Rucu Pichincha, the first volcano that I climbed in Ecuador and it seems like the circle is full. The adventure has been completed. This is where I'm at my happiest, this is where I say goodbye. Or, as my boyfriend so beautifully put it: "No es una despedida, mi amor, es un hasta luego - It's not goodbye, my love, it's see you later."

Hasta luego - see you later

10 things I'm grateful for this month

It's been almost a year since I last wrote a blog post about things that I'm grateful for so it's about time for a new one. I've actually kept a gratitude journal during the challenging month of February and here are some of the things I've noted down: 

1. Being able to walk again! For every day and every step, I get a little bit faster and a little bit stronger and I can't wait to be climbing mountains again soon.

2. Gentle, restorative yoga. I may still be far from my regular practice but at least I'm back on my mat where I belong. 

3. The tax return that ended up covering my hospital bill. 

4. Skin on skin contact. Was there ever a greater form of healing?

5. Being back at work. Not just working with motivated, curious students but also hanging out with other teachers, making jokes, doing crossword puzzles and talking about other things than being sick. 

6. Vegan mango yogurt. Delicious.

7. God. For showing me that even when everything else is taken from us, we can put our faith in him and trust that there is a divine plan behind every struggle. 

8. Pan de Quinoa. Pretty much the only gluten-free bread that I've been able to find in Ecuador. 

9. People that don't run when things get ugly, uncomfortable and less than perfect. I just love you. 

10. Last but definitely not least, every single person that has helped me in some way during this month. Be that through buying groceries, driving me to doctor's appointments, sending messages or holding me in your thoughts and prayers. All these drops of kindness became an ocean that carried me all the way to the shore.

Thank you ❤

Searching and learning

Her hand in mine, my hand in his. Eyes closed, knees touching. Collective inhales and exhales. Vibrations. Tingling sensations. Magic moving all around the room. We have just completed an hour and a half of yoga and dancing at Flow Hot Yoga in Cumbaya and the endorphins linger in our bodies. We finish by singing OM and saluting the light in one another. Namaste. I open my eyes and look over at my friends who are glowing in the dark, sparkling even, like the rare diamonds that they are. 

Ever since I came back to Quito I've had such a craving for honesty and genuine connections. I want everything around me and inside of me to be pure and clean, which is why this seems like the perfect time to start a vegan diet. Watching the documentary What the Health has also convinced me that plant-based food is the best option that I can serve my body and so far, I feel great. I've been sort of vegetarian for a long time but I want to take it one step further and leave out all animal products. Even so, I still prefer to call myself "flexitarian" because I don't believe in too strict rules when it comes to eating. I need to be able to enjoy a bit of cheese and chocolate every now and then, otherwise life is just too sad. Also, being flexible makes things easier when you're living in a country like Ecuador where vegan options are somewhat limited. 

On this second round of my adventure, I'm also on a misson to find out who I can really trust. I'm endlessly grateful for my amazing tribe of people around the world and so excited about the new ones coming in. Unfortunately, however, this truth-seeking journey began with me finding out about a betrayal from yet another person that I thought was my friend. But maybe that's just how it goes. Maybe it's like with the light and the dark - we wouldn't be able to recognize the truth if it wasn't for the lies? 

After I heard the news, I walked away from what had once been sisterhood and friendship and made sure to carefully close the door. This, in turn, has led me to ponder some rather uncomfortable questions: Do I let people in too easily or, do I push them out too fast? Do I need to be more careful or more empathetic? Are there times when we should forgive and forget, even when we can't possibly understand? Maybe I need to learn how to exist in a garden that is growing wild, instead of trying so hard to get rid of all the weeds? 

Once again, I find myself quoting my favorite author Elizabeth Gilbert, who describes this process so much more beautifully than I ever could: 

If you're brave enough to leave behind everything familiar and comforting and set out on a truth seeking journey, either externally or internally, and if you are truly willing to regard everything that happens to you on that journey as a clue and if you accept everyone you meet along the way as a teacher and if you are prepared most of all, to face and forgive some very difficult realities about yourself, the truth will not be withheld from you. 

So that's where I am right now. At end of one adventure and the start of another, or maybe somewhere in between. Always searching, always learning, always trying to do better. Thinking about all the things I didn't know a year ago and wondering where I'll be a year from now. Above all, appreciative of this ever changing world and thankful for each experience that has something valuable to teach me.

Bom Dia - Happy Day

It's winter in São Paulo. Or so the Brazilians say while they stare at me walking around in my short-sleeved shirts and little shorts. After all, blue skies and 23 degrees is not winter for a Finnish girl. It's very much summer and that means enjoying every single ray of sunshine as if it were the last.

São Paulo is a humongous city and notoriously dangerous. Naturally, I spent my first night here getting lost on the way back from the grocery store. Silly me had walked out of the hostel without a map or an address and my phone didn't work. All the streets looked the same and it was pitch dark. Nobody spoke English and nothing made sense. My legs were tired and my eyes could barely keep open due to jet lag and sleepless nights. Yet somehow, after walking around in circles for about two hours, I found my way back. Apparently, it takes getting lost somewhere along the dark streets of a foreign country to make you find that little compass of light inside yourself. And if you let it, that glimmer of hope can become something to grab and hold on to, praying that it will lead you in the right direction. 

Safe and sound at the hostel, I made myself a nice cup of tea and chatted with the staff and other guests. There is something rather spectacular about the way traveling alone makes us connect so quickly and so intensely to others. The next day, a Brazilian friend came to pick me up and when he asked for me, the receptionist responded with a cheerful: Oh yeah, I know her! As if he had always known me. As if he had always known that I was coming and that we would meet. As if our lives had somehow always been intertwined. 

A couple of days later I was strolling around on the streets of São Paulo as if they were my own. As if I had always lived there. As if my feet (and Google Maps) somehow understood where to go without too much effort. My favorite neighborhood looked like an open-air museum of art, completely covered in graffiti. If your life feels grey, Vila Madalena is the place to go and immerse yourself in color. 

Batman Square in Vila Madalena

By the way, did you know that the Brazilians clap their hands when they watch the sun go down? Every night, every sunset. There may be an applause at sunrise as well; I wouldn't know. I never managed to get up early enough to find out. 

Sunset in São Paulo

And then there was Rio. Oh, Rio. A city so radiant, so vibrant and so grandiose it deserves a post and a parade of its own. It's no wonder that this is the host of one of the seven wonders of the world. It's the city of a thousand lights and a thousand colors. Beautiful beaches, caipirinha craziness and a thousand other cliches.

On my last night in Rio, a couple of new friends invited me to come out with them but I was tired after hiking up hills to see statues and drinking too many caipirinhas on the beach so I opted for jomo - the joy of missing out. Staying at the hostel that night turned out to be a lucky decision as my friends told me later that they had been robbed. Their taxi had stopped at a traffic light when suddenly a man drove up on a motorbike, pointed a gun at them and took everything of value. Except, of course, the most valuable thing of all - their lives.

So yes, Rio is a city where you wake up and feel alive. Not safe, but alive. And that's really something.

Rio de Janeiro

Christ the Redeemer

Happiness is...

- Starting a new job where you feel appreciated and welcome

- Finding a job that allows you to be creative

- Teaching students that come up to you after class to thank you for a fun lesson

- Receiving good luck wishes from people who remember that it's your first day at your new job

- Moving back to a place that feels and smells like home and where everything is nice and white  and clean

- Living in the same house as your best friend

- Having a best friend that will share anything with you, whether it's a doctor's appointment in a sketchy neighborhood or French fries with mayonnaise at three in the morning

- Having friends that will love and support you (and put up with you), as much on your sunny days as on your rainy days

- Inviting friends over for a small get-together that somehow turns into a huge fiesta where no one knows anyone but everyone is having a fabulous time

- Dancing salsa so wildly that you bump heads with another dancer and end up with a blue little horn on your forehead for a week as a reminder of that one fantastic night

- Dancing with people who show up

- Saying yes to adventure and no to people taking advantage of you

- Making decisions that make your head spin, your heart flip and your stomach fill with butterflies

- Chatting with your family every day to find out how they're feeling, how their day went and what they had for breakfast.

- Appreciating the little things

- Being grateful for everything you have, everything that you've been through and everything that is yet to come

- Believing that the best is yet to come

Thank you, thank you, thank you

Chilly coincidences and charming encounters

Why do you travel alone? 

The Colombian taxi driver seems concerned. He's a handsome young man in his early twenties and he doesn't understand why I've come all the way to Bogota by myself. 

Don't you have a partner? 

Ah, great. The same question that every taxi driver in Quito also loves to ask. Of course, they usually follow it up with the suggestion that I could marry an Ecuadorian. And then they chuckle, seemingly content with themselves for having found a solution to my "problem". 

The truth is that I LOVE to travel by myself, although I often forget that I do. Right before a trip I always get cold feet and wish that I could just stay home and watch Netflix instead. But once I'm on my way, I feel so happy and free. I can wander around for hours and take as many pictures as I want, without anyone sighing and hinting that maybe it's enough for now. I can have my lunch wherever and whenever I want, without anyone complaining about there being no rice and no meat. I like to eat my quinoa salad in peace, thank you very much.

This was my favorite cafe in Bogota - De Una Travel Bar

The best part, though, has to be meeting other travelers. I know that you also meet people when you're with a partner or a friend but somehow I think we're more open to it when we're traveling by ourselves. And with most people that you meet, there's an instant connection. Especially with those who are also traveling alone because they just get it. For example, on my first day in Bogota, I joined a bike tour and had a blast with five people that I'd never met before. We cycled around the city for about five hours and then decided to have lunch together. We invited our guide to join us and two people from the tour office came along as well. They were great company and we had so much fun trying local food, sharing our stories and chatting about cultural differences. Then we kissed each other on the cheek and parted ways.

Bike crew at Plaza Bolivar

Or take New Years Eve. Who wants to be alone on one of the most significant nights of the year? Yet this year, I hadn't made a single plan. If nothing else, I was just going to stay at the hostel and catch up on the many hours of sleep that I've lost over the past couple of months. As it turns out though, life had a different idea. On Friday, I got back late after a night out dancing salsa and when I arrived at the hostel, there was a fiesta going on in the reception as well. That's how I got to know the American guys that I would later spend New Years with. A friend of a friend also happened to be in Bogota that weekend and since she was staying at a hostel just around the corner, I invited her to join us on the 31st.

New Years crew at Explora Hostels 

Saturday night around 11 p.m., we all decided to walk down to Torre Colpatria to watch the fireworks and join the midnight countdown. The other girl and I were a bit late getting ready so the guys left without us, even though they had promised to be our guardians on the way (Colombian streets are rather unsafe to walk around on late at night). Since my new friend and I didn't know the way to the tower, we asked a Colombian couple on the street for directions. After initially bringing us to the wrong place (an empty plaza), they agreed to share a taxi with us and we reached the tower at about a quarter to midnight. There, we ran into our American friends again, which was a lucky coincidence in itself as the place was packed with people and we never would have found them otherwise. The timing of our arrival just happened to work out perfectly.

Anyway, the guys went on to tell us that somewhere along a dodgy street, a creepy man had come up to them and threatened them with a knife. They all claimed not to have been scared but they were clearly shook up and one of them even decided to leave the party early and return to the safe quarters of our hostel instead. When I turned around to thank the Colombian couple for bringing me and my friend to the tower, they were gone. They had disappeared in the crowd and we never saw them again. Perhaps they were the actual guardians whose job it was to get us there safely.

Bogota by night - the lit up tower is where we started the year 2017

So there we were, this odd little group of strangers suddenly turned into friends. While we were counting down the seconds to midnight, the whole tower lit up in a rainbow of colors and the fireworks sparked all over the black Bogota sky. We all hugged each other tightly, feeling chills running down our spines as we realized that this must be the best way to start a new year - by being thankful for being alive.

Now, it's a new day and a new year. A chance to start over and make things right. An opportunity to face the world with an open heart and say yes to adventure. To trust that when the time is right, life (and our guardian angels) will bring us where we need to be. Fortunately for me, that place right now happens to be a beautiful beach in Cartagena, far away from chilly Bogota. It's my first night here and I just had a lovely dinner down by the water, under the stars with a cool breeze caressing my skin. While slowly sipping a delicious coconut lemonade, I realized that maybe there are some moments that would be nice to share with someone. Then again, it is only day one - who knows where, what or with whom I'll be eating by the end of this week? And that, I  believe, is the real allure of traveling alone - the possibility that anything can happen.

Cartagena by night - view from my apartment 

5 days to change a life

Last week I lost my words. I tried to speak and I tried to write but nothing came out. There were so many things happening around me and so much to take in that I suddenly became incapable of forming sentences. Now that I've had a couple of days to process, the words are slowly returning but I still don't know how to fully describe what I've seen, what I've felt and what I've learned. So to make it a little bit easier, I'll include some pictures that hopefully say more than a thousand words.

Photo by Soda/Lime.

Last Friday I was fortunate enough to meet up with a group of superheroes in yoga pants. I call them that because not only do they radiate love and light, they also show up every day asking these two questions: 

How can I be of service? What can I do today to make this world a better place? 

I feel so immensely grateful that I got to share five days with this powerful group of people. We were all there because we had chosen to go on a mission trip with 109 World, an organization that uses social media to do good and create positive change. Their mission trips include daily yoga but mostly, it's about changing the world. Each trip is combined with a social and environmental cause and all profits go to support projects in the local communities where they take place. Ever since 109 World started I have been in awe of their work and always dreamed of going on one of their mission trips. So it seemed like faith when they announced that they would be in Ecuador just a few weeks after my CELTA course ended. This time the mission was to help children who had been affected by the earthquake that struck the coast of Ecuador in April 2016. Many of these children lost their families and their homes and they are still in desperate need of water, sanitation, education, protection and loving support. The cause deeply touched my teacher heart and I also wanted to do something to give back to this amazing country that has given me so much.

7.8 was the magnitude of the earthquake

During the trip, we got to stay at Las Tanusas in Puerto Cayo which is a completely magical place. And yet this magic has little to do with the white sandy beaches, the crystal blue ocean and the swaying palm trees. It's all thanks to its owner, Rodrigo, who is one of the kindest, most inspiring and genuine people I've ever met. The generosity of his heart is simply indescribable. Not only does he run the resort and take care of his family, he is also the founder of Proyecto Amor 7.8, an organization that was created soon after the earthquake happened. Proyecto Amor 7.8 provides the victims with immediate help but on top of that, the long-term aim is to create a sustainable and healthy community.

These bracelets are made by victims of the earthquake; they cost $7.80 and profits go to support the children.

We also got to visit and work in La Finca, the garden that provides the hotel with vegetables, fruits and herbs and later on, we got to bring some of that food to the people living in tents on the streets of Manta. We were all a bit concerned about how we would react when we saw the devastation of the earthquake but Rodrigo told us that the most important thing is to always keep a smile on our face. Our job is not to bring more sadness to the people who have already lost so much, our job is to bring them hope. And as much as the sight of broken homes weighed heavily on our hearts, no one had to force a smile. We were greeted with so much joy and gratitude that the happiness quickly spread. 

Working in la Finca

Earthquake aftermath

Some of the amazing people that we met

Last but not least, we got to take part in the community work that will provide the children and their families with education, sanitation and a healthy environment. We shoveled mud, picked up trash, planted mango trees and played with the kids whose shining light was so bright and so contagious that we all felt like children again. It made us realize that life is not so much about what happens to you but more about what you do with it and how you react to it. Even when you have nothing you can still run around, laugh, play and simply share joy with other people.

Now, a couple of days later, my hands and my clothes are still a bit muddy but my heart has been uplifted. It's funny to think that I wanted to go on this trip to change lives but in the end, the life that really changed was actually mine.

Planting mango trees. Photo by Soda/Lime.

Between a mountain and an ocean

One of my favorite things about the yoga classes here in Montañita is that instead of using left and right for directions the instructors say:

Turn to the mountain-side or Turn to the ocean-side. 

Even though it's only temporarily, I feel so lucky that I get to live in a place that is situated right between majestic mountains standing firmly on the ground on one side and a vast ocean opening up to endless possibilities on the other. This is where I am right now. Soon I will have to choose whether I want to climb or swim but for now I'm comfortable here, somewhere in between. 

Another week has gone by and yet again it was spent mostly studying, writing and teaching. Still, I feel more alive than I have done for a long time, which is exactly why I needed to get away from my routines back home.  Every day there I would just long to travel, discover and try new things. Every day here, I learn something about the world, about others and about myself. 

Today we went paragliding and as we ran off the mountain and sailed above the ocean I felt so many things. My feet were dangling in the air, far off the ground and yet I felt grounded. I had no control over anything and yet I felt safe. I was tied up to a harness and yet I felt free.

Thank you Ecuador for fixing my broken wings and for teaching me how to let go. 

An open letter of gratitude

I recently read somewhere that feeling gratitude and not expressing it is like wrapping up a present and then not giving it. So this is my way of saying thank you to some of the beautiful souls that inspired me to start this journey. 

One year ago, I went on a yoga retreat to Koh Phangan in Thailand, a place known for its healing powers and its infamous full moon parties. I was looking forward to a few weeks of beach life, sunshine and yoga, but I really had no idea just how much those weeks in the jungle would change my life. At first, I was extremely uncomfortable. It was hot and humid and there was a gecko in my bathroom that would stare at me every time I came in to take a shower. However, already on the second day of the retreat I noticed a shift in my energy. I started to feel a connection not only to the beautiful nature and wildlife surrounding us but also to the other people in my group. We were all strangers from different parts of the world who had landed here on this funny little island and I believe we were all meant to be there at exactly that time.

I got to know so many brave, inspiring people who had left their settled lives behind just to travel the world, unsure of where they were going next or even what they were looking for, just knowing that they wanted something more out of life, something different. They were all so witty and bright and so unafraid to open up their hearts and speak their truths. I learned something from each and everyone on that retreat and I'm so thankful that our paths crossed right there and then.

During those short weeks at Pure Flow Yoga, we practiced and improved our downward-facing dogs, warriors, and headstands but we also learned the importance of gratitude, for the good as well as for the bad, and perhaps most importantly, we were taught how to love ourselves.

One night, during a discussion under the full moonlight, I learned that if your fridge is full of healthy food, you won't be tempted when someone walks by with pizza. In other words, if you have love for yourself, you won't need to depend on anyone else because you already have everything you need. That being said, you may still want to accept what others are offering you (be that love or pizza or both) but if so it will be by choice, not necessity.

I also learned that being cynical is a waste of time. It was just a random comment thrown out after one of our meditation sessions but I heard it. I really, really heard it. From that moment on, I began dedicating my yoga practice to the man who had bruised my heart prior to the retreat and amazingly, as the weeks went by and my body felt stronger and stronger, I felt lighter and lighter.

This past year of my life has had so many ups and downs; it has been so incredibly wonderful and so incredibly difficult all at once. Over and over again, I have questioned my decision to move to South America but every time those doubts creep in, I keep hearing our yoga teacher's voice, loud and clear: 

Take the leap and the net will appear.

So here I am, leaping. I'm terrified of falling but maybe, just maybe, I will learn how to fly.