Rubber Meets the Road

Though it made little sense to buy them she grabbed the large box of Cohiba cigars and walked toward the cashier. She always trusted her intuition: that feeling in her body that carries a wisdom of guidance. As if all of the wisest grandmothers that ever existed had taken up residence there and sent signals from a lighthouse, this was her steadfast navigation system no matter how rough the seas. The box of cigars had been illuminated as if by a spotlight on a stage as she scanned the store for anything that might want to go with her.

It was her intuition, in fact, that allowed her to fearlessly travel the world and feel safe wherever she ventured. Never allowing horror stories to land as true for her, she knew that fears not faced became limitations. Her own experience so unique to her, how could it ever be determined by the way things went for others? She lived in a world where she actively moved beyond her growing edges, always propelling herself into expansion.

She was a few days into a round-trip drive from a wedding she’d attended in Tulum to remote artisan villages of Oaxaca. The terrain between the two so varied made for an enchanting journey. From frigid mountains with dense fog, to sudden torrential downpours, to enjoying the convertible in the desert all welcome exploration to her. She loved driving through Mexico and made it even more of an adventure by taking the off-beaten roads, those roads less traveled. One route there and another to return, she drove each day from early morning until it began getting dark and then would just find the nearest lodging.

The sun, so blistering hot, had sunburned just one of her shoulders. Though she’d never worn sunscreen her creole skin had not been sunburned in the twenty nine years of her life, so it seemed odd. As she purchased the cigars and paid for her petrol a woman noticed the blisters then yelled out Maria! with such a force it must have rung through at least a couple of layers beyond the veil. Maria ran by with a machete into the garden and returned with a piece of an aloe plant she slapped onto the blistered shoulder. In an instant, perhaps with the help of those angels that had been summoned, a black scab appeared and fell off leaving her skin pure and fresh. Sun kissed.

She packed the cigars into the back of the Jeep and continued on her journey. Dust billowed, covering the petrol station as a curtain closing off the last scene on a stage.

As the desert sun became more intense, she pulled her silk sundress up her thighs as high as she could then carefully removed her panties and bra while still driving, placing them in the console to provide a bit more breathing room. All of a sudden, and they do seem to appear out nowhere, she was at a check point. As she slowed to a stop, eight armed men in camouflage uniforms surrounded the Jeep.

They searched through her belongings as she stood a couple of car lengths behind the Jeep taking in the scene around her. She noticed no other vehicles in sight in either direction then looked to her right to see a building with a door slightly ajar, a dirty mattress on the floor. As her entire system registered that there was a mattress on the floor of a building, eight armed men and her out in a desert, she looked up to see that one of the men had her panties on his head, gesturing with his tongue as the other seven men cheered him on. Having done so much deep work around this type of energy she was able to be present and well-resourced. As her awareness expanded she recalled having bought the box of cigars. She grabbed the box, gifting each of them a cigar, as they thanked her and told her she could go.

Onward she drove, with gratitude for the wisdom of her lighthouse within and for the rite of passage the checkpoint provided.