“The Imagica is a Circle”… Clive Barker

A single highway stretches the width of the Yucatan from Mérida to Cancun. Driving toward Tulum requires a highway shift southwards at just the right moment. Otherwise, the drive is a perfect time to meditate a bit and listen to the land and the trees. The canopy is endless as is the jungle that covers the peninsula.

The land of the Maya is a large raft of earth crust floating on a vast underground system of rivers and caves. The caves are called cenotes, the largest of which are well-documented tourist spots. The diving is spectacular, incorporating a bit of spelunking as one might imagine. All wells access this amazing underground waterway. The magic lives in the waters here.

On my recon trip to Tulum as a potential retreat site, I paid attention to the energy shifts, yes, but also to any landmarks that would help me navigate. I watched the canopy roll by, finding it oddly comparable to the grassy seas of the great plains or the endless rows of waving tassle-adorned stalks of the corn belt in the US.

We slowed to make the highway change for Tulum when something happened. Wait! What was that? The edges of a town sprang up from nowhere, tourist shops lining the road.

David noticed something about the first shop and slowed down even more. Odd for him. He’s not a tourist shop kind of guy.

The typical thrown-together shack-shop offering fresh mangoes as well as many other local artisanal products, this one had a sweet spot in one corner. A lifesize carved doe, her delicate figure shaped from the dual tones of tropical hardwood. The fleeting glimpse I’d seen had the sweetest vibe!

“The deer is a symbol animal for the Yucatan” David murmured, looking for a place to make a U-turn. “I saw a lovely one at that shop. Artisans carve these statues out of a single piece of tree trunk for use as decorations. We could have one for the property…”

Captivated, I strained to look over my shoulder for a better view. “We need to remember to stop on the return trip.”

Our recon adventure involved a visit to the famous coastal ruins with a swim at their private beach. More beach time the next day, shrimp quesadillas and some excellent gelato. Oh, and some of the best pizza I’ve ever tasted. There is a large Italian population in Tulum. That and the availability of fresh seafood (all radiation aside) makes for good eating.

David knows the area well and had great suggestions for bringing retreat participants into the intense light of this area. Time in the sea and the level of light made the days pass quickly. All too soon we were headed home.

On the way back, we looked for the town with the special deer carving. The shop had disappeared. We joke a lot about things popping in and out of other dimensions. A ring I once owned, his favorite diving watch, and now a whole store. We hadn’t imagined it. Not all four of us. “It isn’t there” he finally admitted. “We have to remember to look out for it next time.”

Another recon trip popped into my awareness. Something about Belize. I tend to ignore obvious destinations and this one, touted as ‘paradise’ for tourists, seemed to warrant exactly that lack of attention. Then, my other plans fell through.

I had to make a trip out of the country to renew my visa. Circumstances with my residence in the States, with friends in Europe and elsewhere changed. Not viable logistics at this time. I mentioned the closing doors to David, whose response was “We could go to Belize.” The second time he suggested it, I listened. Nothing else was working out.

“Look at this place. It’s a privately owned island next to St. George’s Caye.” He turned his laptop screen to face me. “It’s miles off the coast. You get there by boat! And the cost is actually reasonable by Airbandb standards.” His tone of voice made me pause and consider.

Go, the inner voice urged. “Check the dates then and we’ll see”.

“Wow.” David sounded surprised. He still isn’t used to how Source flows through me. “They have the exact dates you mentioned available. TropicAir has flights from Mérida.”

“On the right days?”

“Oh, well no. They have one on the day, outbound, but we’d have to return a day early or… wait, we could fly into Cancun.” I could see the wheels turning. “We could ask Sofia and Chloe to drive over and meet us… and maybe go back to Tulum for a couple of days? They’d love some beach time, yes?” I nodded, smiling. “Then we could all drive back together.”

“After pizza and ice cream of course.”

“Well yeah!” (I’ve never had better quattro formaggi in my life)

So it was settled. I booked flights the next day. “It’s a small plane” I reminded David.

“One of those little propeller ones, right?”

“Yes. They don’t bother me. My Dad was a private pilot so I’ve flown in planes smaller than these. We won’t be able to take much with us though.”

“Well what would we need for three days on a desert island?” He began to laugh.

“At least the others will be driving over, so if we need a few extra items they can stow them in the boot.”

The Belize trip was wonderful, as was the segue to Tulum. But that is another story. (to be published soon)

After a morning at the beach, the four of us packed up the car and headed back to a local restaurant for mid-afternoon dinner before driving back across the peninsula. With our small packs from the island, Sofia and Chloe’s bags and an extra bag they’d brought for me and David, the boot was pretty full. Good thing we’re not shoppers.

During the drive back we made mental notes for sites to visit on the next trip out. The Riviera Maya is full of pyramids, ruins, cenotes and other special locations that provide a fun way for people to learn how they respond to different energies. “…so next time we’ll stop at Coba on the way across… what is it?” David was looking out the window intently.

“We’re almost at the turnoff for Mérida.”

“The deer!” At that moment, the shop appeared. Right at the outer edge of town, exactly where we’d seen it the first time. Hiding behind some hangings on the far edge of the shop, there she was. “We have to stop.”

David made the U-turn, conveniently available this time, and pulled in. “This is a really nice one. Most of the time they have their heads turned backwards (we had seen a few, nice but…) or are lying down so the artisan can get the whole piece from one section of trunk.” This little doe stood on all fours, head up, contemplating us from sparkling, very conscious, eyes.

“It’s a good price for one of these as well” David continued. “The shop owner says she can’t contact the artisan right now to get us a better deal… and he would certainly come down to make the sale but…what do you think?”

“Take me with you” she whispered, her wooden nose quivering ever so slightly.

“Let’s do it” I heard myself say. “She’s so lovely.”

“I’ve seen quite a few of these and this is a good price for the size. This one is prettier than most.” David had his hand on her back, not wanting to break contact.

“Yes. Between us we probably have enough cash left.” We did, just. And enough to fill the gas tank as well.

The shop owner brought out a dry paint brush to clean the dust off our little treasure. David and the deer waited patiently for her hoofs to be brushed clean, her eyes wiped, her nose given a once-over. Then he wrapped her tenderly in the seat covers we had stowed in the back.

Remembering the full boot I looked on, smiling, as the contents were rearranged to accommodate our new friend. She fit well, leaning against the re-stacked bags, cushioned by our damp and drying beach towels.

Two hours later we were back in rush hour traffic, making our way out of the city and home. I kept wanting to hum the whole way. Funny, that.

When we arrived at the property the little doe was the first thing to come out of the car. David carried her up to the unit, unwrapping her and finding her a quiet corner where she could make herself at home. She came instantly alive! Her carved form vibrated. Her eyes shone.

I asked her, as quietly and respectfully as I could, not to startle our new friend, “What is your name?” She didn’t answer in a way I understood. Something with an S.

David joked about calling her Stephanie, saying we could then call her ‘estefanía’. Our private joke about Spanish S’s. She seemed to grin a little but remained silent.

Snacking on the leftover pizza we’d brought back, we played with names. “Well, she has to tell us!” Sofia insisted.

“True enough. She will let us know.”

I thought about how fawn is represented in indigenous medicine. Her innocence allows her to approach Great Spirit directly, bypassing the demon at the door, as her soft dark eyes see through its heart to the truth. Quietly she approaches Great Spirit and is absorbed by its emanations. I don’t remember fawn having a name…Then I had a flash about sacred deer in the Mahabharata and other Hindu mythology. An association with the goddess. “I think it is a Hindu name or something like that” I told the others. “I’ll look up the story.”

Upstairs at my laptop I asked Google-ji. Of course. The deer I remember was from the Ramayana, the one who sacrificed it’s life so Rama could live. But no, that isn’t right.

The next reference was the one. “… the doe is one of the symbols for the goddess Saraswati, whose aspects are wisdom, art and music…” Shivers ran up my spine. I had just finished asking the little one if she wanted a different kind of name, like Estrella for Star or …”something like Sara” I heard, ever so quietly. Of course!

“How shall we call you then?” Sara? Saraswati? Or would you prefer something else? “Esara” she whispered, laughing, indicating she had enjoyed the earlier joke. “The others are too fancy for me. I am the spirit of the song, melody of the spheres. We can make music together.”

“Esara it is then, for now. Welcome.”

With that welcome, a stream of golden light played through the room. Something I’d felt and heard since childhood. Melodies of light. The timbre of life. The song of home.

Saraswati. The nine goddesses of navratri, the nine nights of the goddess are the nine manifestations of Durga in traditional celebrations. That twice-annual celebration is sometimes also divided into three sets of three celebrations, for Lakshmi, for Durga and for Saraswati… the wisdom, learning, and sound that end one cycle and begin the next anew.

Reality is sung into being. I know, I whispered to the vastness.

“You have to come full circle” my Teacher once said. “I don’t decide or make you what you are. That is between you and the Infinite. Sooner or later you come full circle.”

Everything ends and begins that way.

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