The very least you can do in your life is to figure out what to hope for. And the most you can do is live inside that hope. - Barbara Kingsolver 

I am often asked why or how I decided to come to Guatemala. The curiosity is understandable. I am a 60-something woman who up and left her quiet, simple life to journey into the complete unknown, and alone. (Though, really there are many of us now. We are becoming less rare, though certainly always brave. We are finding our way by listening to a voice deep within.)

I usually try to condense my response down to a one or two minute story, and always I include the beginnings - the seeds that were planted by two friends over 30 years ago.  But really, it is the story of my life - the lessons from certain "teachers" along the way, from the amazing twists and turns of my path, and a deeply buried growing awareness - that finally spurred me on.

My friend, Sybil was coming to Guatemala in the early 70's, spending time in Antigua, often with her children, learning to weave and then bringing textiles from her Mayan weaver friends back to the States to sell for them. I remember wearing my first huipil (typical Mayan woven blouse) while I carried my first child in 1977 - a gorgeous and unique maternity blouse. I deeply admired and envied Sybil's bravery then and listened carefully to her stories.

Meanwhile, before the birth of my children, I began working with a former priest in a Seattle City program for youth. Jim, who is deeply committed to social justice, graced my innocent ignorance with his passion.  He left the States to join an international effort in Guatemala during their civil war, providing "witnessing" for the families who had members killed or missing. I received a few letters from Jim during this time, (long before the internet) and began to search out any news I could find about the war. Nothing. And no one else I talked to knew anything about Guatemala.

When I finally did uncover some its pieces, the story seemed unbelievable: the U.S. was involved in overthrowing (via C.I.A. covert operations) the first democratically-elected Guatemalan president, Jacobo Arbenz. President Arbenz had initiated a land reform plan to return farming land to the Mayans, and instigated other reforms that were contrary to international corporate agricultural interests. (Just last month, the current president of Guatemala issued a public apology to the family of Arbenz.)

So Sybil and Jim planted the seeds, but still, seeds need to be nurtured, and mine lay dormant. I thought it impossible for me to be of any "use" in this dangerous time as I was busy with my first child and dealing with a marriage ending. And so I became swept up in making a new life out of necessity . . . not an easy job it turns out.  After a second marriage and the birth of my daughter nine years later, my path seemed like a river flowing, always moving me toward this story. By giving me the courage to hope and dream, my children were a powerful driving force that inspired me to make choices for growth and learning.

We lived for a time in a multi-cultural neighborhood in Seattle where I studied Buddhism, and returned to finish my education at the University of Washington in women's studies. There, I found answers to the puzzle of my own life in the context of race, class and sex, by studying the history and stories of women around the world. Connecting this "big picture" in my work with homeless and abused women and children in Wenatchee, Washington provided me a profound opportunity to learn from some of the most vulnerable of our society. 

Also, over these years I gathered an amazing circle of friends. They became my true family, as we gave each other that rare kind of unconditional love and support to move toward being all we could be.  These friends have cultivated strength I was unsure of and trust in my own voice. Even now across so many miles, and after so many years, their faith in me remains a constant presence.

As my dream job of working with a non-profit retreat center ended in 2007, (one door closing), I realized that I had an opportunity to leap (another door opening). The idea floated up from deep down, and I couldn't let it go. It was time for me to follow the long-buried dream of going to Guatemala. Looking back, I am sure I can pinpoint all the practice smaller leaps I have taken that prepared me for this big one.  Still, it was terrifying. To leave my sweet community, my dream country home, my family and truly wonderful circle of friends, seemed daunting. I had a moment of doubt and panic as I was selling the house I had waited most of my life to own. As always, there was my wise, dear friend Jewel to sort things out with, and with her guidance, I embarked. 

My astrological birth sign is  "Cancer" - fundamentally home-loving in nature. And it is true that making nests is a deep part of my personality. I have made them in a wall tent in winter and in one-room cabins, and over time I found that this was one way my creativity found literal and metaphorical expression. (I intuited the art of Feng Shui long before I knew what it was!)

Leaving all this behind, especially this last nest, where I could have lived out my life, planting flowers and hiking the northwest mountains I so loved, was frightening.  I expressed this question to Jewel: "How can I leave my beautiful nest?" Her immediate reply was "The world is your nest!"  And my heart burst open with the rightness of these words.  Still, even now they make me laugh out loud!

Nancylynn

San Pedro la Laguna, Guatemala

30 October 2011

NEXT: Nesting in a Mayan pueblo on Lake Atitlan