Found Again

Originally written on Thursday February 13, 11:40 am

I’m sitting at the breakfast table above the trees and pool and the crashing waves at our yoga retreat at Beach Bluff in Bocas del Toro, Panama (more on that trip later). I just got out of a massage with a wonderful Panamanian woman who cracked me open in my neck, shoulders, back, hips and heart. The waves are crashing ferociously. There’s some clanging about in the kitchen, while our private chefs are cooking up something amazing, and my favorite travel friends are laying in hammocks within eyesight enjoying the space.

In this moment, we’re in literal paradise. No one here is rushing to take a conference call, the air is clean with a faint scent of salt water, soil and tropical flowers. We’re warm, safe and are bellies are full of some of the freshest and healthy food.

Hummingbirds have been flying around the dining table suckling sweet nectar from the feeders. Butterflies take up air space and float above us and birds of all types call out every few minutes. It’s truly been a magical time here on this island.

It’s been a journey to get here. Not just the flights and boat rides, but more so what it took to get here—to the person I am today. I’ve spent some time reflecting on old memories of who I was, the tools I picked up along the way, the things I’ve had to tell myself to make it through to the other side.

The street sign as you enter my family’s compound on Guam

I think a lot about my short, six-day trip to visit my dad’s side of the family in Guam. Imagine not seeing half of your extended family for more than 25 years, just for you to get thrown into the mix and try to explain what you’ve been up to over the last two decades. There’s never enough time to catch up.

Having family in three different places/countries is a blessing, so I cherish the moments when I can. It makes reunions that much sweeter, but realizing the time that has passed in between our last visits definitely has a weird affect on me. I left Guam the last time when I was in middle school and returned when I was 40. What is time?

My dad and I stayed with my aunt who took the week off to welcome me back home. She showed me around the island, which only takes a few hours to see, and made sure I saw as many cousins as humanly possible.

I asked my other aunt if I could watch her cook some of grandma’s recipes. I spent some time at my grandparents’ house looking through their relics, clothing and photos. I listened to stories about all of the silly things they would do, while I was growing up in San Diego.

I met with my older cousins who spent some time in California when I was super young and listened to stories of our family throughout the years. I sat in the backseat while my family drove me around allowing me to watch life from the window. I caught up with cousins who I met when we were kids, who now have kids of their own. I sat in wonder about how I could have so much family who I know so little about.

I envy friends who live in the same city and state as their family. I wish for a bigger family that lived near, where I could just drop by their house and chat over a meal. I’m sad that I’m missing so much of my nieces’ and nephews’ pivotal years, yet life goes on, and I just have to hope that I’ll be able to come back home again one day in the near future.

I made it a personal project of mine to look through my grandparents’ old home, seeking any relics I recognized from my last visit. I must have been 12 or 13 years old when I visited last. I recognized all of the sunflower decor my grandma had around the kitchen. I went through their old closet, remembering stories my cousins told me about how fashionable they were, all decked out while hosting parties at the compound. I picked out a few of their matching outfits and told my aunties that Andy and I would give them another life during our upcoming wedding photoshoots.

Since time was so limited, I was only able to go through one album and two shoe boxes full of loose photos. Memories came to the forefront of my mind and some photos reminded me of my last trip to the island. I found photos of me as a little girl sitting with my older cousins at bonfires, a trip to Disneyland that I barely remember happening, and the time my grandparents flew out to see me graduate from high school. I flipped through photos of my relatives throughout the years, and got sad thinking about all of the moments I missed. I even found photos of my grandparents wearing some of the outfits I just packed away for myself.

But what was hiding at the bottom of one of those shoe boxes is something I’ll never be able to explain. In two ziplock bags, I discovered things that looked very familiar. I first pulled out an old red, white and black beaded bracelet with yin and yang symbols on them. I started to look closer and a bunch of found funky, colorful rings and hair clips.

“Oh my gosh, these are mine!!” I screamed out to my aunt who was sitting at the table admiring old photos with me. “How on earth did these get here?!”

To my fellow Y2K girlies out there, imagine finding old silver hair barrettes with “Flower Power” written in bubble writing. Or an old silver ring you bought at Afterthoughts (or maybe it was Claire’s in your city) with a green frog, yellow happy face, red heart, and black peace sign on it. Insert your favorite jewelry piece from the Delia’s catalog and I probably had a version of it.

Within these two bags, I unleashed a whole chapter of memories from my pre-teen years. I’ll never know how those things showed up, or why I was directed to find them, but there they were.

Maybe my grandma saw that I left them behind and put them in a place she knew they’d be found again. Maybe my inner child left these as bread crumbs for my current self to find and cherish later. Either way, something in my brain unlocked when I found those trinkets and now I’ll carry those treasures into my life today.

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As much as I want to keep thinking of my past and where I’m going in the future, this yoga retreat is gently forcing me to be with my present self. Our leaders Jacob and Andrew asked us to reflect on the sounds, sensations and stillness that we find ourselves on our yoga mats. Even the massage therapist gently nudged me about being in the present when she asked, “OK, but how is your back and body feeling right now,” right after I spent an uncomfortable amount of time mumbling through previous injuries and pressure preferences.

Like many people, I can get so caught up in what caused my physical state today without asking myself how I feel in the moment currently.

While I was laying in Savasana during yesterday’s yoga class, I heard a voice telling me to find my breath. Literally find it in my body. So often during this restful yoga posture, I notice my mind racing to other thoughts. What’s for lunch? How will I finish that chore I was in the middle of right before I showed up to class? Why was such I brat when he/she asked me that question earlier today?

That same voice told me to put my hands on my belly to better notice and find my breath.

Up, down. Up, down. Full, empty. Top, bottom. Those noisy thoughts about everything else slowly vanished. My mind was finally quiet in Savasana—after almost 20 years of practice.

Today, now, I’m starting to admire the person who shows up. I look at her, whether in the mirror or internally, with the utmost of respect.

Big calves, thick thighs, sculpted obliques, soft belly, big booty, strong shoulders, busy mind, and everything in between.

I’m still processing what it’s like to be home after traveling—let alone an amazing week in Panama practicing yoga with some of my besties. But what I know for sure is that even though my mind is constantly racing and sometimes allows intrusive thoughts to linger a bit too long, I can still celebrate the times when clarity does show up. Because sometimes it’s in those short moments where everything feels right, safe, and like it’s all part of the master plan.