Before we left for Mexico in early March, I had a gut feeling bubbling deep inside my stomach that had been going on for a while.
typical of gut feelings... it made me feel uneasy.
It was my first time in Sayulita ...and for the first few days, we got a taste of normalcy.
Normal Sayulita is covered with a sea of umbrellas and overrun with beach vendors. Every 30 seconds, a different vendor vies for your attention, pointing to their haul. The variety of goods for sale is impressive, things like:
’calorie free’ donuts, hand-loomed hammocks, ten-foot-long rugs, wooden sculptures of bald eagles, & glass ‘tobacco’ pipes.
But perhaps the most impressive is that the vendors carry everything on their backs or heads, and trudge through the sand in heavy jeans everyday. The other half of their day is spent muscling their wares on the long bus ride back to Guadalajara.... twice a day. The determination to labor and endure such long days in the hot sun is an admirable feat. It makes you realize how much buying a trinket, something so small to us, makes such a big difference to them.
Less than a week later, Sayulita's border closed to outsiders, including the buses full of beach vendors, an impact which was likely devastating.
The shift from crowded beach scene to utter desolation was as metamorphic as Jekyll to Hyde. Long-time locals likened the emptiness to twenty years ago when Sayulita was still a remote, Mexican surf town, off the map.
Everything seemed to slow down and become quiet. But the gut feeling I had weeks prior was louder than ever. I knew my soul was yearning for me to pay attention... So I finally took the time to sit down and listen to it.
After weeks sitting quietly, running wildly, writing furiously… my intuition finally spoke to me. This time, I wasn’t fearful of the change, instead, I let the warm breeze wash over me and I peacefully surrendered.
Right now is the best time to create your tomorrow.
Click Here to read the next chapter.