Recipe for Fear Relief

Staying out of Fear.

Everywhere I go, I hear people talking about one thing or another that they are afraid of. It seems to be at the forefront of everyones mind lately. I am afraid of this, or that, the flu, other people, change, leaving a job they hate, or partner they no longer relate too. The list goes on and on. In fact, they are so afraid, they simply do not move at all. They sit still and freeze, and this effects us on all levels. Fear has this way of paralyzing you to the point where you will not do anything. Simply put, if you are afraid, you will stay the same. We won't live, we won't change, we won't question what we are told, we will do whatever anyone else tells us because we are scared.
We walk around with this eternal question of "OH NO, What should I do?" and we hand over our personal sense of power to anyone willing to offer us guidance. We throw away our intuition, our common sense, and look to what everyone else is doing instead.
This is the true danger of the fear mindset. It causes us to step out of our power center, where we have a strong sense of who we are, and where our balance lives, into a state of unbalanced living where power is put outside of us. In response as energy bodies, our vibration lowers, our light dims, and all kinds of things can then come in, including the flu and other dis-eases.
When we do get sick, use it as an opportunity to take a look at where your life is unbalanced, and why. Then make the necessary changes to regain balance, and nurture yourself, until your health and stronger vibration/light has returned.
It always surprises me how many people who live in fear forget to laugh, and take themselves too seriously. However, if you think about it, it would make perfect sense, because when you are in fear, you do take life and yourself too seriously because it is a threat to your very existence. Laughter and lightheartedness are hard to come by when you are in fear. Two of your natural born qualities, both which keep you happy, balanced and healthy.
We all fall prey to Fear, it is a great teacher. A very hard task-master. It will ask things of you and push you through boundaries you never even realized you had. It is when you get stuck in fear that depression develops, ill-health and a variety of other physical manifestations. All asking you to stop, look and learn.
We may not be conscious of being afraid. Fear manifests in a plethora of ways in our lives. How we judge others, how we critic ourselves, why we stay in abusive or unsatisfying relationships, or unfulfilled jobs. It is why we find any excuse not to move forward with our dreams, and yearnings. It is why we look at ourselves in the mirror with any other emotion except pure unconditional love. It is why we cringe in the corner afraid to move on any level in our lives.
Facing your fears head on, and conquering them like a good enemy is a wonderful way to move through the heart of your fears, so you can find the gold treasure that awaits in the lessons it has to teach you. The energy hold it has on you and your life then vaporizes leaving you clear, balanced and for the better because of it.
When we find others in a state of fear, we have to seek the mirror for ourselves. Instead of trying to solve it for them, or run away because we fear being close to people who are afraid, look at the why for yourself.
Having compassion for others in fear, means you have compassion for yourself when you are afraid. But remember compassion does not mean you have to take on their situation, simply witnessing it and loving them unconditionally is enough.
So instead of avoiding fear, when they surface, or you see fear mirrored back to you by the situations in your life, stop, look and learn.

Recipe for Fear Relief:
1 Cup of Laughter
3 Ounces of Silliness
4 boxes of Creative Expression
1 stick of Nature
bake until you: learn something new about yourself

Happy Halloween Everyone!

The Mexican Voodoo Market... Mexican Memoirs Con't

The day before we were to visit the site of Teotihuacan, our guide Monica offered to take us to the Sonora Market in the heart of Mexico city. It was explained to me that this was one of their most popular markets and it was dedicated to healers, and voodoo magic. I was curious and intrigued. As we weaved through the heavy traffic, I looked out the window of our car and watched the blur of colors, people and buildings passed by in a kaleidoscope of dizzying color. It was all I could do to take in all the sights and sounds of this busy city. It reminded me of Cairo, but it was cleaner, and although probably equaled it in the amount of people and traffic, it somehow seemed more laid back, and a bit less chaotic.

Despite a strong adherence to Catholicism, most Mexicans are very superstitious. In the market's inside displays, one can find just about anything related to magic or voodoo. One could explore both Mexico's pre-Hispanic roots and Afro-Cuban witchcraft at the Sonora Market. Animals such as rabbits and snakes, mysterious potions and brews, medicinal herbs, potent candles and other voodoo remedies can all be found here.

Known locally as the "witchcraft market," the Sonora Market in Mexico City undoubtedly has the cure for what ails you. Sonora has rattlesnake skins, desiccated hummingbirds and dried fox skins as well as the live articles like iguanas, frogs and squirrels.. It houses what is arguably the highest concentration of shamans, santeros, voodoo and natural remedies in the world. Stalls are flooded with a seemingly infinite variety of powders, sprays, soaps and incense that claim, through bright colors and delightfully kitschy illustrations, to help one find a job, money or love, to ward off evil spells or help children do well in school.

Walking through it had a hypnotic effect on me. I was fascinated, repelled, and yet strangely drawn into this strange world of light and dark. Healing is in my blood, it is what I know personally, and how I work in the world today. Here was a world dedicated solely to the creation of ceremony, ritual, and magic. Statues of saints, and different religious icons crowded the street as well, as herbs, live animals and all kinds of miscellaneous items one could use in a variety of ways to heal.

We were looking for traditional Mexican items for a fire cleansing ceremony we were planning to do at Teotihuacan the next day. Once again, I felt as if I were walking through some fabled adventure movie. I imagined what Harry Potter may have felt the first time he walked through Diagon Alley. The utter disbelief of a world that is rarely seen let alone understood. Here you stepped into a world of enchantment where healing took on a whole new meaning.

We finally found our way to the place where we would find the items we needed to purchase. The huge barrels of medicinal herbs were a sight to behold. I was drawn to one particular bark looking mixture, and when I asked Monica what it was, she said, "that cures Cancer". The truth in her words resonated with me, and I could feel the void plant medicine has in our 'civilized' modern world. As if someone somewhere was playing a sick joke on humanity by having us believe nature doesn't provide the cures we seek for diseases. They would rather have us believe the cure has to come from a lab somewhere in the form of a man-made pill. There was a life force emanating from the bark, it had a light to it. It offered itself in true form. Yet when most people are offered something like this, they do not trust it. They trust the prescription medicine that is given out like candy and have lost the connection between themselves and true healing. We have become dependent on a world filled with advertising, consumption and spending. The average person is a worker ant for a machine that operates on money, lies, manipulation, and control. The Mexican people are overall very healthy. I wondered if this was because of a long held belief in true 'traditional' healing, that of medicinal herbs, oils and other naturally made remedies.
The women healers, sometimes called witches, were once hunted down and killed centuries ago, and with them much was lost about natural healing, plant medicine and one almost has to wonder if it was an intentional way to disconnect people from nature and all it has to offer in the form of medicine. Antibiotics and medicine for profit have since taken over the world. Leaving people dependant on drugs, bankrupt from medical expenses, and void of any chance of true health and vitality.


Hanging from the side of her booth was a piece of Mandrake root which I was curiously drawn to because of its shape. The mandrake, Mandragora officinarum, is a plant called by the Arabs luffâh, or beid el-jinn ("djinn's eggs"). A djinn is a supernatural creature which occupies a parallel world to that of mankind. Mandrake contains deliriant hallucinogenic tropane alkaloids such as hyoscyamine and the roots sometimes contain bifurcations causing them to resemble human figures, their roots have long been used in magic rituals, today also in neopagan religions such as Wicca and Germanic revivalism religions such as Odinism (source wikipedia). Some say mandrake will help you contact and communicate with other dimensions, spirits or djinn's.
I wanted to buy it, but decided against it. Instead above me hung a rattlesnake skin. I immediately knew I had to buy it as an offering to the Apache Snake Clan. I would add this to our fire ceremony and honor my Apache teachers, and my Snake Clan family. The woman carefully wrapped the snake skin in newspaper, and eyed me curiously. I wasn't a typical tourist and she knew it. There was a moment of understanding between the three of us. Each of us respected each other for who we were, and our sacred work we each did in the world out there.

We added copal, and other fragrant incenses to our order, and she wrapped each carefully and we walked away with our things. There was a strong smell of urine at the end of the walkway out to the street, from the live animals that were inside. As we walked out it was as if we walked out of a portal back into modern day. We were ready for our ceremony tomorrow. I held my wrapped snakeskin close, and felt thankful for finding such a perfect addition to our sacred work here.

Island of Lost Dolls...Mexico Memoirs Continued

I seem to attract to myself the kind of situations that sometimes seem strange, unusual and bizarre. I sometimes joke to my close friends, and family how I find myself in some of the most otherworldly places, I sometimes have to pinch myself to believe!

This particular time I found myself floating down the canals in the heart of Mexico city. My gracious hosts had wanted to take me to see the floating gardens, as of now the name eludes me. We did not end up there anyway, but found ourselves in one of the strangest and most bizarre places I have ever seen. Here we were on this small boat, going along this isolated 'land of the lost' canal in the bustling city of Mexico, surrounded by fields of different crops, cows, and white heron. I was reminded of the Felucca boat rides on the Nile....

It was the kind of surroundings that allowed you to imagine you were back in time, when life was simple, quiet, and you could almost daydream about how it would have felt to be alive back when the Aztecs, and Mayans were still dominating the land here. There was a pristine calm to it all. I mused over the fact that even in the midst of one of the worlds largest cities, we kept finding our way to these places where the city disappeared off the horizon. First the circular pyramid, and now the canals. Every now and then we would pass another boat filled with people partying, laughing, drinking and eating dinner on the quiet still waters. They would wave hello, and we would be on our way. As a foreigner I had been met with nothing less then sincere warmth by the Mexican people. It is a beautiful country.

As we got further and further away from the civilized world, we all began to get lost in our own thoughts as we drifted along. Sitting on the boat were five women, each of us successful and empowered in what we do in life. Each of us lost in our own thoughts and you could feel the energy swirling about, as we each took full accountability for who we were and why we were here. We each sat in silence, and gathered ourselves quietly. The breeze was warm, and gentle. The wind was welcoming us to the strange landscape.

Our driver steered us over to what looked like a boat launch of sorts, built back in the 1950's and only minimally tended to over the years. He began to tell us a story of a man who had lost his mind and had moved out here to this island to live in isolation. A man named Don Julian was haunted by the sounds of a local girl who had drowned near the island. He filled the island with dolls to protect it from the evil spirits. Don Julian has since died, but his nephew still runs the island. Even after Don Julian's passing, dolls are still placed there for protection. He had spent his life collecting dolls and stuffed animals that had been thrown away. He believed that the spirit of the dolls protected him. So he had managed to cover his island with the dolls. There was of course, a soda and snack shop on the island, I was convinced there was a soda and snack shop everywhere in Mexico.

When I first got off the boat and walked the length of the landing, I felt like I had entered a different dimension. Some living breathing twilight zone episode, filled with ghosts of Chucky, all of them potential characters for some cheesy horror movie. They were everywhere. In the trees, tacked and nailed into branches, hanging from every nook and cranny possible. Their eyes empty, their faces broken, and their once brilliant and beautiful dresses now gray rags which looked like at any moment would turn to dust if the wind blew hard enough. We were all speechless. No one greeted us. We just got off the landing and walked around. It felt as if we were in some cheap wax museum. I was surprised they weren't charging admission. Yet this place wasn't about the tourist. It wasn't built as an attraction.
It was built by the mind of a man who believed in what he was doing. Who went out with intent to find and save each doll who had been carelessly thrown away after they were no longer needed, loved or wanted. Like abandoned children with no one to take care of them, he had seeked them out offering a place for them to go. I joked about it being like the island of lost toys in the popular children's Christmas story, Rudolf the Red Nosed Reindeer. How the unwanted toys waited hoping someday to find a child to love them. I even wondered at one point, what had happened to my Barbie's and dolls I had treasured when I was a little girl. Where were they? What had become of them? As I slowly walked around, I started to look at each doll differently. Each one seemed to still have some life in them.
They seemed glad they were here somehow and not buried in a landfill somewhere. Here they were seen. Still acknowledged. Not shoved deep down somewhere where no one would ever see them again. It reminded me of the lost aspects of self that we try so hard to cover up and forget and bury in a land fill within our minds hoping they never surface again. Those parts of ourselves that we no longer love and care for. Sometimes intentionally, and sometimes unconsciously. Each doll represented the past, a time forgotten. Each one carried an energy of a memory of happy times filled with love, now forgotten, discarded and lost.

At first I was a bit repelled by the island. However as I walked around and left the group I began to see there was a message in all of this madness. A message you could only see if you were able to get through the initial fear of the place. I heard the words, we are not lost or forgotten, we only wait to be found and loved again. That was when it shifted for me. I felt a swirl of energy lift the ugliness of this place, and replace it with a quiet beauty of decomposed regeneration. Death Mother and her sister Crazy Woman owned this island. Both with hard lessons to teach, but in the end, it was there if you could get pass the fear.


I thought about my own childhood, and how as a culture, how many of us adults forget our inner child, and leave it to be hung on a tree, perhaps here, forgotten and unloved. How we can lose our imaginations, and become ingrained to the indoctrinated workings of life, thinking that in leaving behind our childlike aspects, we are in fact doing a good thing.
If you take a look at how you treat children in your life, you will see a reflection of how you treat your own inner child. The relationship you have with children is the relationship you have with your inner child.
Healing the inner child, heals a kind of innocence that is a shield against a kind of darkness in the world today. How can we change our realities, ourselves, our relationships and manifest what we want if we can not IMAGINE the change? Imagination belongs to the realm of the inner child. Like this lost island in the maze of canals, it can be a challenge to find, and when we do find it, we have to overcome the fear, and then the sadness and emotions it provokes in order to reclaim it.

The man who had made this seek and rescue mission his life purpose knew that peoples fear would keep them away from him, and in the end it was a kind of protection. I would guess he also knew only those truly connected with their inner child would be able to enter. It was a small doorway, portal, in to his world, and for those brave enough you could find it.

I found some of the pictures I took here strangely beautiful. As I looked at each of the photos I took, it was almost as if the dolls looking back were indeed alive. Excited to be seen once again.

Up the Mountain..Almost there!

The journey began at the base of a mountain that led straight up through miles of cliffs and jungle to the Tepozteco Pyramid, an ancient worship place to honor the god Ometochtli-Tepoztécalt. The temple of Tepoztecalt had not been on our agenda, but once we entered the valley of Cuernavaca, the imposing and breathtaking cliffs drew me like a magnet. I knew we had too go. I stared up at the challenging climb ahead of us and knew this would be no easy feat. Our beloved guide Monica, knew she had to inspire us in order too get us to even consider this task, and inspire us she did. One of us stayed behind and waited at the foot of the mountain. The four of us set out for what would prove to be an initiation in and of itself. Part of me completely rejected the idea of doing this climb, it seemed impossible. But I sucked up my fears and doubts and headed up the moss covered stone stairway that led to the ancient path up to the temple.

At the entrance to the stairway was a solid round stone ball, which people made offerings too protect them and to ask permission to climb the mountain, the spirits of place were tangible and you could feel them circling in the misted air around you. There was an altar a short way up the mountain that we had brought offerings for. Here we simply touched the belly of the stone and thanked it for calling us here. We gave away our fears, and submitted too the adventure. Immediately we noticed the pathway was covered with scarab beetles. In fact, the entire journey up they would be our constant companions. From time to time, we would help the over turned beetles and pick them up and move them off the trail, so they would not be steeped on. I mused how that was like life. How every now and then when things seemed hopeless something comes along and intervenes, picks us up and helps move us along safely. I thought about those moments in my own life, when such assistance was welcomed.



We headed up on what would turn into a two and a half hour, 2 mile hike up into the clouds and jungle. Too what seemed like another world existing outside of time and space as we know it. A place where magic and mystery live. The climb would test us physically, emotionally, spiritually and mentally. The mountain would ask tough questions. Who are you? Why are you here? What is your purpose? How far can you go in this lifetime?

I faced my biggest fears, as the heights and narrow ledges, steep staircases, and the altitude challenged everything I thought about myself, my life and who I am as a woman. Each segment of the climb got more challenging. Every time I thought the top would be in sight, a steeper and more formidable climb stared in my face. My lungs were at full capacity as my body physically got a kick in the ass as I kept going. I secretly thanked my pilates teacher for all the past months of pushing me to to and beyond my physical limits, never expecting the payoff would be on the cliffs in a jungle, seeking out a long lost temple high in the clouds.



Once we got past the staircases, the path was the original stone stepping up the rest of the way. We were headed to the altar. We had brought fresh flowers, copal, and a variety of other personal items to leave as a special gift to this sacred site.
About an hour in, I noticed how easy it was for native Mexicans t o make this climb as they passed me like it was just another Sunday stroll. I found humor in being passed by a young pregnant Mexican woman, small children, and elderly men and women. I mumbled to myself that it had to be something in the water. One of my fellow travelers, Ellen Bradbury, who held a certain graceful light around her and had inspired me with her stories of her life experiences including being personal friends with one of my personal hero's, Georgia O'Keeffe, held the trail at least 20 feet ahead of me. If she could do it, then so could I. I had held Georgia's life as something to look up too, and here I was climbing with someone who emanated the same electric light of life by my side. A beacon of human potential. At one point I simply stared at the ground, ignoring the clouds, views, and imposing sights of the trail up ahead. Which by the way, was getting more and more treacherous, and beautiful at the same time. And just focused on putting one foot in front of the other. I had too stop every now and then just too catch my breath. I don't think my blood had circulated like this in a long time! I had to laugh at myself..

Every time I asked Monica, who I swear is a lemur cat in disguise, how much further, her sweet little voice would answer, we are almost there! I believed her the first 20 times. Then after passing the young pregnant woman I had seen earlier, as she rested peacefully on a ledge, I asked her how much further and she replied, you are almost half way there!
I stopped and said every swear word I knew under my breath. I sat down at the altar when we finally reached it, thankful for the break and chance to rest. Monica had prepared a beautiful circle of different medicinal herbs, candles, and other items her and I had collected at the Mexican voodoo market earlier that day, yes I said Mexican voodoo market. That is a whole other story and adventure! I lit the copal, and I felt everything inside me emptying. The physical exhaustion had brought me to a place of submission to myself, to God, to the journey. I felt tears well up as I thought about how the path so far had represented my life and the challenges, the losses, the wounds I had experienced throughout the years, and how I had persevered through them. Some of them had been like this mountain, imposing, huge and when looked at straight on seemingly impossible to overcome. I thought about my family, my children, the choices I have made, and the failures in my life. The dreams that had not come true, the secret wishes I held deep inside me. I offered them to the altar, the fire and the copal smoke as it rose in the air. I walked away from the three of them and sat on a rocky ledge next to the altar and waited. I closed my eyes and listened. I knew I had to wait to hear it was OK to continue on. I needed permission from the mountain. Even after all this time climbing, something inside me knew in order to continue I had to be given permission from a higher power. My body relaxed completely, and I felt the answer. I opened my eyes and light streamed in through the tree tops, and small butterflies flew around my head, I gasped at their delicate beauty. The mountain answered that it was my choice. That we all have a choice. We can give up and that is OK. It is not a failure but a choice. We could continue.



I remember coming to a small ledge that led to a crumbled staircase where you could look out into the clouds. The turkey vultures circled far below us, and the cool wind caressed my face. I recall thinking I had gone pass the point where I had not crossed before. Symbolically in my life, and past lives, I had crossed a line in which I had not crossed before. This feeling for me was hard to put into words. I felt like I had come further, and now every step I took was in a newness unlike before. There is a legend about this place, that once you pass the gates of Tepoztécalt, you are reborn. Rebirth is the best I can do to describe this moment, even though I had not reached the gates yet. Monica yelled, that it was only just a little further. I made a face, and mumbled some indistinguishable and foul words under my breath as I laughed. At this point it didn't matter if it was around the corner or not, there was no turning back for me.

When we reached the gates, the view was one of utter disbelief. On the other side of the small valley below was the entrance to the temple. If you look closely, you will see a white dot that is in fact a person. This will give you an idea of the scale and the final task looming in front of us. Monica had already climbed up there and returned with pictures to show us so we would continue and not turn around and run down the mountain full speed. We had climbed close to 2 and a half miles, and for two and a half hours at this point. I stood there with my hands against the stone walls, feeling the moisture and coolness. They felt alive, and so did I. Turning around was the last thing on my mind, and I didn't need to see Monica's pictures to decide that. I took one look at Ellen, and we both knew we were going to do it. The valley was stunning. The view and feeling was one of being in an Indiana Jones movie. Gabriel, our fearless driver, stood faithfully by my side. Helping me along the way, he was my angel for this journey. Very fitting.

When we got to the top, there was a booth set up to buy your tickets into the site. Ellen and I started laughing profusely as we had not brought our wallets, and therefore had no money to pay to get into the site. Why on Earth they do not charge at the base of the mountain was at that point absolutely hysterical to us and the two of us laughed like two drunken gringos. Monica paid our way, and did not seem to understand what we had found so funny. As we sat there thankfully drinking bottled water bought from the small shop at the top, I heard a strange sound behind me. As I turned what stared back was this small creature that looked like half lemur half raccoon. I thought how cute it was, and as I reached out my hand, it snarled and growled, showing sharp fanged teeth and daring me to come any closer. Then a whole herd of these little vicious creatures came out of the jungle and surrounded us, looking for a bit of modern fast food.
They soon moved on, as did we, thankful to have made it to the top, and now ready to see our prize. It was surprisingly empty and not many people around. Just as well. More time to sit and soak it in.

The personal intention of this journey was about releasing all my past lives. I had spent so much time searching them out, trying to understand the connections of people and places in my life up until now that giving them away felt sad, but necessary to me, and something inside me knew I had too. I decided this place was were I would do this because of the moments and AHA's I had found on the journey up here. This place was not for the faint of heart, and it was a rebirth to accomplish this climb. So the setting felt right to me.

When I stood at the top of the pyramid, I paused. Closed my eyes, and let it all go. I said goodbye to the bits and pieces I had found along the way in this lifetime, the story lines, the people, the feelings, memories, traces of connections and missing pieces. I felt something lift off me. There was a massive release right then and there. There was an overwhelming release of emotions. Like saying goodbye to your children forever. Letting go of the love that kept you bonded through lifetimes. I felt a complete remembering at that moment. I saw all my past lives swirling around me, faces of my children, family, loved ones, from times long gone, the recognition in their eyes as they left. I let go. They let go. In doing so, I've been able to remember better since. Without the murky attachments of ego. I have seen the bigger picture of the story of my consciousness. I must have stood there for a long time. All three of my faithful travel companions waited patiently below. I looked at the symbols in the walls around me, and traced my finger through them. I closed my eyes and I could see what happened here, I stepped back into time, and watched the ceremony. My hands tingled with intense heat, and the image faded.
The past, present and the future were one for a moment.

Real Life Adventures with an Ordinary Woman

Wow! What a trip.....

I knew this past Spring when I returned from Sedona, after having a powerful lucid dream, I would be traveling to the pyramid site of Teotihuacan in Mexico. In this dream I was standing in the Andes mountains looking down at the place where Machu Picchu should have been. I was originally planning to travel to Peru this Fall for the Fall equinox (Spring Equinox there), and in the dream instead of the city of Machu Picchu, there was the great pyramid of the Sun in Teotihuacan. In the dream I sounded out the name slowly so I would recall it later when I woke. I had seen this pyramid on the Internet before, but I did not know its name.
The dream was so real, when I woke the next morning, I immediately looked up pyramids of Mexico until I saw the correct one, and sure enough the name was as it was in my dream. A confirmation that there was something important here for me, and I needed to pay attention.
On a whim, I cancelled my trip to Peru, and got ready for my trip to Santa Fe with my Apache teacher. I put Mexico on a shelf in the back of my mind to focus on later.
While in Santa Fe, on my own personal retreat and pilgrimage, I met a woman named Arlene, who coordinated the retreat, and we hit it off. The group was so well organized, and I was very impressed with the flow of the trip, having planned trips myself, this is no easy task. I spoke with Arlene about doing trips together, and the partnership we have formed has been rewarding on all levels. I mentioned Mexico, and before I knew it she had a preview trip planned for us to tour the sites, because we plan on taking a group back in September 2010 for the Equinox.
My trip had manifested. Before long flights were booked, and the plans arranged. In less then 6 months after this dream, I would be at the site.
My mind was spinning at how fast things were manifesting, but I know better than to question these things, and I never get too linear about them anymore. I have submitted to a higher power when it comes to these things, long long ago.
A few weeks before I was to leave for Mexico, I was invited to London for the UK premiere of The Path: Afterlife documentary I was filmed in a year ago. I was also invited to attend Tom Campbell's two day event on higher consciousness by the producers and sponsors of the premiere, MBT events. (I have too say a special thank you to Donna and Keith of MBT events for bringing me out and hosting me, I had the time of my life!!! =) At first I was thrilled, and then the reality of traveling so close together with Mexico seemed a bit daunting. A logical response would be to say no, because of that, I said yes. It would not have manifested if it were not meant to be. Now if I could just remember that as I flew home for a mere 10 hours before I switched suitcases, repacked, brushed the dust off, and got on the Trans-Atlantic flight with a mere 8 hours of rest.... I must say, living my dreams now is hard enough on my body, I couldn't imagine doing this when I was retired and in my so called "golden years". My motto is do it now if you can, and you can, you just have to decide too.

The adventures that happened in Mexico and London will be written about in several posts. Each one having its own importance, and each shares an AHA moment for me, mixed with human challenges, and humor. I hope you enjoy them....off to make dinner & help the kids with homework. That is the real adventure ;-)