Are you OK?
The answer might surprise you... The power of checking in and some personal updates from El Salvador.
I looked into Sandra’s eyes and tried to muster up the energy to ask the question with true care, curiosity, and connection. I wanted to ask like I would ask a young child that might need some support. It sounded easy, but it wasn’t. The energy with which words are said matters a lot, like musical notes, and I was struggling to find the right key. The tone was evading me like a chord on the piano that is a little out of tune.
So I paused and I went deep inside myself. I looked at my friend and felt how much she mattered to me. And then I took a breath and a leap.
“Sandra, are you ok?”
The words sounded simple and maybe a little silly to ask, instead of the one’s I usually used and had already tried; the friendly, “How are you doing?” phrase that I use to let someone know I am interested in them and they matter to me. Somehow though, “How are you doing?” felt too superficial when I tried them with Sandra. That’s when “Are you ok?” appeared in my mind’s eye. I felt the subtle beings I work with sent the phrase to me and I have learned to pay attention when I get messages like that, even when my mind thinks they make no sense.
“Are you ok?” goes deep if you let it and I was shooting for deep with my friend. I wanted to ask her the question so the part of her that didn’t get asked in the past, that didn’t even know what to do with the authenticity of the words, could hear me. So that part would feel less alone. So she would feel seen and loved for who she was, just as she was.
Sandra didn’t say anything in response for a moment. I thought I had missed the mark once again. But then she spoke, “No Terra. You did fine. It feels strange to be asked like that; like I have never been asked how I am really doing before, and I don’t know what to say.” We waited so Sandra could take the question in and I said it a few more times to her. I don’t remember now what she said regarding how she was actually doing. The main thing was that she felt seen and cared for in a way that was new. And that in itself, was enough of an answer for us both.
Then I asked her to try the words with me.
“Terra, are you ok?”
The easy response to such a question is to start where your brain tells you to. Start by immediately saying the reasons you are fine. I think most of us have learned that is the safest way to go.
I am not saying it isn’t great to be fine or that it isn’t normal to often feel good. It is just that often, there may be a rich canvas of you and all the glorious parts of yourself, waiting to be seen. Mental concepts and reasoning don’t get to the core of how you and your soul are really doing.
So I will ask you now, “Are you ok?”
Not, “How you are doing?” to which I imagine you would likely respond, “fine.”
No, what I want to know is:
“Are you ok with how your life is unfolding, with the challenges God is giving you, with the exquisite beauty and pain of this journey?”
“Are you ok?”
“Are you willing to feel the answer, deeply?”
I don’t want to know your plans, your income, or how many friends you have. In fact, if you really feel into your response, there many not be any words at all.
Since that call with Sandra, I have started asking myself that question sometimes, just like I would ask a six year old in a class I used to teach.
“Terra, are you ok?”
Today, when I asked, I noticed that I was a little hungry and that it was hard for me to be hungry and also work on my book. Without a lot of thought, I had purchased a three day juice cleanse when I was in the city on Sunday. I love the juices my friend’s company, Elixir, makes. And they have a package deal for a cleanse. I also love to buy package deals. I just wasn’t thinking that this meant I wouldn’t be eating food for a while.
Fresh juice doesn’t last long, so I realized I had committed to something and that my timing was more challenging than I had planned. I like to rest and have space when I do things like this and instead, I have recommitted to my book and she and I are meeting daily. Then I was asked to be in some photos for Puro Surf. I think the energy of me and my book conversing on my screen in their restaurant, which is where I often go to write, was appealing to their marketing person. She asked if they could take some pictures of me to help with their marketing in exchange for lunch. I told her I loved the place and was honored. I go to the photo shoot tomorrow, but I have to skip the meal. It will be my last day of juicing. I will get a meal credit instead.
I am honored to be asked to model once again. I turn 58 this month and El Salvador has loved me in a surprising way. I have done a photo shoot, made some videos for a man to help him sell his new product, and now am asked to be in photos for a hotel that is full of young, fit, beautiful people. I do feel honored and valued. It is another reason I am happy to have left the US.
But my juicing and hunger issue sits on the surface, which is what usually comes first when I look deep inside.
Deeper is that I am both excited, sad, and challenged. You see, November 1st, I am moving.
And I need to move. I want to. The moment I decided to finish my book and hired Holly as my editor, I could tell it was time. I need a place with a desk, that is quiet. I need some privacy.
How am I? Am I ok?
Well, when I looked inside, I realized different parts of me have different things to say. Mostly, I am thrilled and I will tell you why in a moment. But I noticed, when I asked myself the question, that there is also a part of me that in addition to being a little hungry on a juice cleanse, struggles with change. Despite how much I have embraced a life with a lot of transitions, there is a part of my personality that wants to snuggle into a place and just stay and eat scrambled eggs for breakfast. She doesn’t want to pack and get used to a new place, new people, and new things to figure out how to navigate like Ubers, grocery stores, walking paths and gyms. That part of me has been here for six months and has a lovely routine that is going well. She loves to sit on the beach in the early morning and watch the sun rise and sparkle on the water while waves crash against the cliffs. She loves her new workout routine with Kevin, from Zonte Gym, who gives her personal sessions and tells her she is his favorite student. She likes the way he cheers her on and loves the 80s music he asks her to play on his big speaker. She loves that she is getting stronger. And she has friends. What about the friends?
You see where I am going here. There is a lot to moving, even though where I am moving is to a mansion and it is hard to say no to that, when one wants to finish a book. In fact, I decided that it is hard to say no to that, period.
When I put my new opportunity to my test, it passed with flying colors.
My test for big decisions like this is as follows:
“Terra, when you are lying on your death bed at the end of your life, will you be glad you did this?”
“Terra, when you die, will you be happy to have experienced living in a mansion for a few months of your life?”
And my answer was a clear, “Yes!”
This is a mansion I don’t have to manage. All I have to do is pay my rent and live there. What could be better? Well, there would also be other guests at times. Not just any old people. People like executives, software developers and artists. A large part of me was having a Meg Ryan movie moment saying “Yes! Yes! Yes!”
“Are you ok?”
Of course I am. For sure… except for that tiny part of me that doesn’t like change no matter how good it is. And when I felt that part, I took some time to stop and listen.
I had a talk with her. I imagined her sitting in my lap and I asked her how she felt if I took care of this move, and she could relax? Would it be ok then? Would she be ok and would it feel fine if we moved…you know…if I handled the adult parts of it all?
She was quiet. I could tell, she just wanted to be held in my lap. I felt her head nod a little, “Yes.”
It has been a good week and a hard week. I had my eye for over a year on a condo that was being built on the beach here. It is very unique and looks like a pretty glass house, so most people don’t know it will be a three story condominium with a rooftop deck.
After prowling around it and finally meeting the owner during a rainstorm that caught my friend and I unaware on the beach outside the place on one of the days I was stalking it, I achieved the connection I desired and added his name and number to my contacts.
This led to progress and he expressed interest in selling to me. I still didn’t have a price from him yet and the next step was to show it to Vanessa, my attorney, and get her take on it. A few days ago, Vanessa and her assistant drove out from the city to meet with me and go see it. We met at my favorite restaurant at Puro Surf while Vanessa updated me on the state of my permanent residency application and sipped her cold brew which had a large ice cube made of coffee floating in it. Then my EMF expert friends, Tom and Nancy, joined us and we all drove to evaluate this place I had my heart set on. I told Vanessa before we left that I wanted her honest opinion. She has been a good advisor for me in the past and I knew she would have a bird’s eye view that I lacked.
We all stood in the glass box just a few yards from the surf breaking on the sandy beach. It was hot as the air conditioning was not installed yet. Tom, with his EMF meters, was starting to really sweat. Vanessa, well dressed and professional, had slipped off her shoes as the foreman had requested, and stood on the dusty floor without complaint. All the windows were closed. We were in a sauna and Vanessa took that in stride as well. I ignored the heat and focused on manifesting my dream, which was crumbling with the horrible crackling sounds coming from the devices in Tom and Nancy’s hands. The EMF readings were terrible. Tom and Nancy were clear when they told me, “Terra, it is not healthy to live here, plus it is hot. Just look at all these windows!” Their advice was clear. The condo was bad news. The two cell phone towers nearby glaring at us with their transmitters that looked like evil eyes were having an effect and the glass walls everywhere were not mitigating any of it.
I looked at Vanessa.
“What do you think?” I said.
(I had already called her over to see one of their meters and explained to her how our bodies work like antenna and pick up and amplify EMFs. The meter showed a low reading and when Nancy had me pinch the tiny metal antenna coming out of the device, it made a horrible noise and went into the “dangerous level red zone”. I thought it would be fun for Vanessa to pinch the little antenna too so she would understand more about how these invisible signals were actually measurable. Vanessa padded over willingly in her socks and pinched it. It responded with a horrible squawking noise.)
I realized at that moment that it may not have been an ideal question to ask after her little experience.
“It doesn’t seem quite right for you Terra. The readings aren’t good. Why don’t you keep looking and get something on the beach somewhere else,” she said.
I never imagined I could purchase or live in a place such as this and am sure it would have been out of my reach in California, where I spent most of my life. I wanted it bad.
And I knew she was right. Actually, I knew before I left my house that morning that something didn’t feel right about purchasing it. My inner compass and the guided writing I had just done hinted at going to investigate things with my trusted advisors in a state of non-attachment. That was a red flag right there.
A tear ran down my cheek as I looked at Tom and told him I was trying not to cry.
He looked at me with compassion. “Honey, this is not what you want. It isn’t going to be good for you. You can find something better.”
He spoke to the part of me that was not ok in that moment, and that meant a lot.
In fact, all three of them (four if you count Vanessa’s assistant outside hiding from the sauna) felt so supportive. And that is why I hired them and why I wanted them to come and assess things for me. I took in their advice and used it to make a decision. I was not going to buy it. Later, Vanessa reassured me that it was her intuition that spoke and not her response to the meter. She just knew. That is the kind of person she is, which is good to have in a friend and especially in a trusted advisor. It helped to hear that too. “Just let it go Terra, and trust. You can do it. Let go of the future you are imagining and allow what you can’t see to show up.”
Ok.
It was not easy and I decided to do just that.
Soon after, I joined some friends to go to a talk in the city. It was being given by a man named Erwan.
Erwan holds the US National Record in STA (static apnea) under the CMAS rules and validated by the US Freediving Federation with a 7'29” breath hold. His personal best currently sits at 8'03".—breathholdwork.com
He was teaching a workshop the next day on meditation and breathing. I had given it a cursory look and brushed it aside as “too expensive” without learning more about him. Since he was the featured speaker, I figured this talk would promote his workshop, which I didn’t plan to attend. But my friends spoke highly of him and I needed an adventure after my condo disappointment.
I waited at the bus stop on the road in El Zonte, which is where they offered to pick me up. I was dressed up and and sweating in the humidity. But once they came, I began to enjoy myself. One woman studied permaculture, the two men were interested in healing environments and knew a lot about Dr. Kruse, the benefits of sunshine, and low EMFs. They all were excited to hear Erwan speak.
The sun was beginning to set when we reached a gate at the bottom of a hillside in Escalon, one of the nicer parts of the city. We drove up the steep pavement, past mansions and pine trees. The air was cooler here, and smelled fresh. After some searching, we found the house with the correct number and saw that the door stood open, welcoming guests. I stepped through the double doors into a fairytale mansion. I don’t know what actually makes a mansion a mansion; I just knew that this was one. There was a wide, sweeping staircase that four people could walk up together abreast. Large windows looked out over the city below. In the distance was the Illopango Volcano and lake bearing the same name. There were multiple levels and far below, I saw a pool with two fish painted on the bottom casting shadows. They looked alive. There was an outdoor bar staffed with people serving drinks and inviting sofas inside with fluffy white cushions. Best of all were the orange and red lights everywhere, so that no one’s biorhythms would be affected by blue light. My body breathed a sigh of relief.
I felt at ease in the strangest way. For months I have been living rough compared to US standards. Even now, as I type this to you, I sit in an awkward armchair chair with my computer on a foldable end table that is not quite the right height for typing. It is hot as I struggle to get the AC in the bedroom adjusted correctly to flow into the living area, which lacks AC. There is a pool of water in my shower that never drains, as the floor was not leveled correctly.
Don’t get me wrong. I have beautiful, peaceful music playing next to me. I can hear the waves breaking outside and there are crickets chirping. The last of my juices for today was actually a nut milk made with maca and rich, creamy cacao. I feel almost full after drinking it. I practiced yoga at sunset by the pool and worked on my book this morning for four hours. It is not all bad. Not by a long shot.
But the mansion…well, it felt like home when I walked in. Some part of me that has been “dealing” with things for a long time looked at the place and said, “I could live like this. This would be a great place to finish my book.”
Now, I remembered seeing photos of the mansion in the past, except at the time, the photos definitely didn’t do it justice. Back then, I was sure I didn’t want to live in the city. But now things were changing and I looked around me and had a tiny thought.
So, I asked my friend who was hosting the event, if he might have a room there for rent? And guess what? He said that maybe he did.
My hopes were high as I gazed at the group of about 40 people standing on the patio in small groups chatting with the city skyline twinkling with tiny lights in the background. Erwan strolled by and I introduced myself. He was lean, tall, and fit with a presence that made it clear he was the speaker for the evening’s event.
I sat in the front and waited to learn about breathwork, but that was not what Erwan spoke about. Instead, he talked about his vision for people to live a healthy life here in El Salvador. He spoke of the countries’ growing wealth and how the money people started to make, would be spent in the chain of grocery stores that sold products that were not healthy, and imported from outside the country. The money would flow out of El Salvador to multinational corporations and the people would get sicker. Erwan had a vision to fix that. He was already speaking to the President’s brother about it and had a meeting with him again the following day.
The vision is this: El Salvador can use simple ingredients to make healthy products made from things like baking soda, vinegar, and coconut oil. Ingredients they source from within the country. These products would be sold in small stores everywhere; even the small towns would have access to them. There would not be a lot of variety. One recipe for toothpaste, flavored with different essential oils. It would be simple and it would be good for everyone. The products would not be forced on people. They could still succumb to the marketing of the multinational corporations. But the new products would be marketed as well. They would have El Salvador’s logo on the outside and could even be sold outside the country. This was a way for the country to thrive rather than becoming unhealthy. The people did not have to become the consumers of toxic products and pharmaceutical drugs.
Erwan’s vision inspired and thrilled me. I sat there, with only 40 people, listening to yet another way this tiny country could be an example of positive change for the future. My heart sang and I sat in awe and gratitude to be there.
The people driving me back to El Zonte were ready to go when the talk ended and they agreed to wait while I ran upstairs to see one of the bedrooms. We walked up the wide stairs and my friend explained that this floor had two bedrooms on it. The master and another. Between them was a shared area filled with more white sofas and an outdoor balcony. The rooms had their own balconies as well.
“If you want the room up here Terra, you will be mostly on your own. Sometimes we have people stay here like Erwan in the master suite. But they are pretty interesting and I think you will enjoy meeting them.”
I stuck my head in the doorway of the bedroom he suggested my suit me and gazed at the king sized bed. “Does my room have its own bathroom?” I asked (I know, what a silly question regarding a mansion and I had been living on the beach for a long time.)
Without judgement, my patron answered my shaky young part with kindness, “Oh yes, all the rooms have bathrooms.”
I headed home with my friends, hopeful that it might actually work out. A few days later, I hired a taxi for the day and went back for a more thorough tour.
The house is owned by an organization here called Palestra, which is focused on changing the world for the better through hosting interesting events and speakers. Sometimes, the speakers stay at the house. But right now, it would just be me and the maid. “She can make your breakfast if you get the groceries and tell her what you like,” he said. Then he showed me the washer and dryer, a cabinet with embossed white fluffy towels, and more of the bedrooms, all spacious.
I knew which one I wanted (the one upstairs) but I was worried about where I would put all my suitcases. Then I noticed that in addition to a wardrobe in the room, it had a walk in closet. The bathroom had a shower with water that he warned me could get too hot (which is a wonderful thing for someone who had to fight to get an electric shower head installed to heat water that manages lukewarm at best).
How was I doing?
“Are you ok?”
Was I ok?
Yes, I was. It looked amazing and felt like a gift from God. My friend explained that the intention of the organization is to have people stay there who are involved in various artistic projects. Guests have included a sculptor, tech executives running cutting edge projects, and people like Erwan. This was a place for them to come stay and work. It is also a place that will host periodic events. I think it is a place where my book and I can finish our final dance together.
Am I ok?
I am.
…and I am taking care of the parts of me that get a little nervous and need some care.
I can do that too.
I know they are there because they show themselves when I ask myself the question.
“Terra, are you ok?” And then I feel the answer.
Oh…this is where I could use a little care.
This is where I feel a little sad, a little worried, a little nervous about jumping off another cliff again so I can find myself flying. This is where a part of me thinks I might just fall.
I’m ok with that. I can love all the parts of myself and find out what they need and how much time to take. That part that worries about getting dashed on the rocks below needs to know there is a rope tied around her waist, even if the rest of me knows I have wings.
I’m ok.
And it’s ok for parts of me to not be ok too.
And here’s a post from Jeff Goins where he talks about how he is doing with a lot of beauty and depth …
Terra! Beautiful, vulnerable writing. I’m sure there are parts of us that will never be OK. And that is OK. Knowing that you can do pull ups and deadlifts to Toto tells me that you will be just fine! Keep working out those muscles- head, heart, and soul! 🙏❤️
Oh Terra! What a beautiful journey you just took me on! I love it! I am glad you are ok!💕🌻🙏