Para El Coyote.

A reason, season or lifetime is what they say about the people you meet. That’s how long they’re in your life for. El Coyote came to me at a time when I was so distressed, torn in two. Trying to live a life in the moment and one 2,000 km away. He brought with him contentedness, freedom, but most of all peace. Peace with who I am, with what I wanted, and affirmation that my desires were indeed valid.

I feel so lucky to have shared a season of my life with him. And while I enjoy toeing the line of spirituality and destiny versus what is our known reality, the universe gave me this morsel at the most perfect time. She has done that before, saved me from my state of mind by delivering me humans that show me the light.

However she, the Universe that is, could only do so much. I’ve learned that it is up to ourselves to acknowledge these signs, these omens, and to pull them into ourselves and make the most of the fleeting opportunities when they present themselves. Even if that opportunity is a moment of strength, a moment of clarity.

The first time she did this for me was with a beautiful blond. His deep ocean blue eyes, sand bleached hair ripped me away from a destiny that I was fated for, one that at the time I did not have the strength nor the esteem to remove myself from. The reason I met him? He showed me what could be, what shouldn’t be, and what I truly am capable of deserving.

The second time was in so many ways more impactful than the first. In the brief period of time that we spent together, he taught me lessons about life that I would never forget. He showed me a way of living that was no less than one hundred per cent true to the person you are. It was something I admired so much. His ambition, his drive, his genuineness. Heart on his sleeve, what you see is what you get, an unapologetic oracle to the way in which life should be lived. Shameless desires but all with such respect, each underlined with the goal of freedom and liberation for each human being.

“Freedom ends where freedom begins” he would tell me.

The freedom of oneself should be unlimited until the moment it starts to impact another person’s freedom. In a matter of words, live and let live. This was one of many moments with him that struck something deep inside me. I wanted to be free, and I wanted to be allowed to be free. But I was caught between a cavernous love and a desire so strong, each at opposite ends of the earth.

On a less romantic scale, this still held so much truth in the way which I saw the world but was unable to articulate. The curtain of “freedom of speech” that so many hide behind to say and do as they please with no consequence. I only have to look at the lack of accountability that political leaders and mega-personalities alike hold on the major media platforms when spreading harmful misinformation to understand this principle. Is it so hard for us to live our lives in a way that allowed all others to just be? A silly question I’m sure. 

The whole experience was organic, without pressure or restriction. Neither of us holding expectations of the other, yet somehow we flowed contiguously from one experience to the next. He saw me. And i mean really saw me. Intricately and attentively noticed me and all of me. Completely enamored by what I was, and showed me I was deserving of that. Of course, the season eventually came to a close, but that one month in Mexico defined me in way I would never forget.

It occurs to me now, in hindsight, that I had actually experienced love twice, both so different. One that loved me so much it was scared to lose me, holding me tightly. The other that loved me so much it knew I had to be let go lightly. Ironically, holding on tightly and letting go lightly both had resulted in the same outcome.

If there was a positive word for trauma I would use it here. My perception of trauma, an event that irrevocably shapes your life. These two loves did just that, yet upon reflection I harbour ill feelings towards none. One showed me what it is to be completely consumed by another human being – dangerous at times but totally euphoric at others. The other showed me the art of freedom and the utter contentment that accompanies it. One was Ying and the other was Yang. Together they defined two very important of who I was and who I am. A lover of love and a lover of freedom. It has me wondering, is it possible to have both? Can you really love and be free, or is the moment you’re in love you are no longer free? How much does the thought of losing that love begin to define the decisions you make? Or will you feel free when you find the right love? I imagine the latter.

One to make an omen out of anything, I’m sitting here writing to you through the window of this new adventure, looking across a somewhat untidy blue bay with white caps dancing across its surface, nonthreatening grey clouds above. The only words I’ve ever found to perfectly express the pain I felt from that heartbreak are ringing out around me, softly, gently, kindly. Mazzy Star’s “Fade Into You”. No tears, rather a soft smile is what is here, maybe a nod to the current path I’m on?

Right now, I feel free. I do not have anything limiting me, and I can’t help but feel like I deserve every incredible thing that has happened to me on this little adventure, and there has been so many. From ubiquitous turquoise oceans to never-ending sunsets an everything in between. The universe has provided and I am incredibly lucky to have received.

Bless your ears and grab a tissue box.