Do you know the words to this famous prayer?
Solo trips are one of my 12 favorite ways to rekindle my relationship…with myself.
And because I was in need of a little rekindling, I went to a Mexican waterfront paradise on my own. On Wednesday, I decided to rent a bike and pedal my way around town. This is one of my favorite pastimes, especially when discovering a new place.
The jovial Italian who rented me the bike suggested I go to a particular swimming spot that was largely overlooked. He mentioned there’d be a couple of kilometers on the Federal, which I interpreted as ten minutes.
I’m sure I don’t have to provide much detail for you to guess that I was mistaken.
After almost an hour of white-knuckling my way to my destination, I was able to calm my nerves at the magical spot below.
So much so that, when I decided to return, I had kind of forgotten the terrorizing experience on my way there.
From the swimming spot, I pedaled over a gravel road, past a lush tropical farm and a pack of extremely vocal sheep, until I reached the Federal again. The Federal would be more accurately translated to a full-blown two-lane HIGHWAY with a bustling population of semi-trucks, motorcycles, and buses whizzing by at whatever speed they deem worthy at that moment because this is Mexico and there are no “real” rules on the road (or elsewhere for that matter).
So here I am, in a light yellow beach dress that’s flying up into my face as I try to beat the oncoming wind and intimidating traffic, on a rickety bike whose tires are about as thick as a pencil, with just enough rust that each push of the pedal emits a dull squeal, and a basket holding my bright pink beach bag that’s wobbling furiously back and forth like those cyclone pneumatic shakers used to mix gallons of paint.
Beneath my very real concern that I might be squashed by a construction truck or pummeled by a runaway bail of hay, I was uncomfortably worried with what passerby must think of me. “Look at that idiot gringa.” “What in the pinche hell is this woman doing, is she lost?” “I wonder how much she charges for a night.” (I’m 40!! I’m not supposed to care about stuff like this!!)
Now what I did next really surprised me.
I started reciting the Our Father.
Not a Catholic, I don’t even know how I knew the words to the Our Father (turns out I didn’t, later confirmed on Google) but I do have to say the 67% I got right really helped me.
The repetition, the faith, the unintentional breath work, and the fact that no one would want to snatch a random gringa on the side of the road talking out loud to herself like a nut, all made me feel protected.
While I’m not planning a later-in-life baptism, I was reminded of the power of a good mantra. In 2022 I was feeling unfulfilled and directionless, so I started daily chanting the Lakshmi mantra for abundance. Within a few weeks, my head cleared. Within a few months, I moved to Mexico.
Since we’re coming up on the shortest month of the year, I invite you to my personal challenge of daily meditation with repetition. It can be whatever you want – a Sanskrit mantra, a Catholic oration, a personal goal – repeated in your head or out loud for at least two minutes a day.
Mine will be the Lakshmi Mantra (again? So boring!) to call in an overwhelming abundance of MONEY.
What will you choose?
Before I sign off – are you interested in some self-love exercises that cost less than a solo trip? Find 11 more in my latest booklet, How to love yourself without repeating “I love you” in the mirror 24 times a day.
Why incorporate self-love into your life?
It’s cheap (the booklet AND the exercises)
It’s really easy
You’ll become more confident
You’ll become more attractive
You’ll never feel lonely
With love,
Bethany
P.S. Want it all? Me too. Buy my how-to bundle with three booklets so you can show yourself some love while chowing down on delicious, healthy salads and colorful, vitamin-packed smoothies. Save $5!
