Con Calma …
Nicaragua, Day One.
“You are walking so fast.” “Where are you going chica?”
Time to slooooow myself down. It always takes me a bit of time to adjust to a new setting and way of being. While I am quite adaptable and can make just about anywhere home, it requires me to make conscious changes. Walk slower, look around more, talk to the people, lean into their way of being. In this case, I needed to slow down. Coming from winter in Canada, working several jobs and never getting through my daily to-dos, it took me a minute to remember that I can live differently.
A local befriended me and we had some very interesting conversations that day. It’s always hard to know who to talk to, who to trust, who to brush off. Especially while travelling solo as a woman. The yogi in me wants to talk to EVERYONE. Learn from them, learn about them. But I know this comes with some risk. That being said, I tend to err on the side of freedom rather than caution and trust that I am always safe and protected. This day in particular, I was seeing countless synchronicities (angel numbers, feathers, butterflies … you name it, I saw it). I felt quite supported in this moment.
So, when Miguel, a local tour guide, started speaking with me in the main plaza, I did stop to talk. Funnily enough, he was speaking Spanish (which I don’t speak, but I like to think I do). Though I did understand a good chunk of what he was saying (thank you French & Italian!). Within minutes, I was hearing about his goals & dreams, as well as his father’s recent passing. It truly felt like a human connection. He stopped trying to sell me a tour and was just happy to talk (or so I will continue to choose to think).
We ended up spending a couple hours together, him speaking Spanish and me replying in English with a couple Spanish words here and there, when I could. We taught each other pieces of our languages and shared our hopes & dreams. One thing he said, stood out the most. “Con calma” … He shared that this was a lesson from his father.
Miguel and me at the ChocoMuseo in Granada, Nicaragua
When he would impatiently ask as a child, “When’s dinner???” His father would respond, “Your mother is cooking … con calma.”
When he would worry of not making enough money or selling enough tours, his father would tell him, “Con calma.”
And perhaps the most interesting part of all this, is earlier that morning I was journaling over breakfast. I was feeling a bit nervous travelling alone for the first time in awhile and the first time ever in Central America. Plus I don’t speak the language and was just feeling a bit unsettled, unsure if I should in fact be saying hello to people I pass by or if that would be seen as something else.
So, in my journal, I wrote that I wanted to see everyone as people who could help me along my path. Help me get where I need to go. Help bring me the teachings which would guide me through.
At Garden Cafe in Granada, Nicaragua
“Maybe it’d be on the naive side, but what if I looked at everyone as people who could help me versus people who might cause me trouble? Embracing everyone as a step along the journey. People helping me get to where I’m going.”
When Miguel started speaking to me in the beating sun of 35 degrees trying to sell me something I didn’t want, it would have been easy to say no gracias and carry on with my day. But somehow I decided to stop. I decided he was there to help me with something, I just didn’t know what yet.
Con calma.
This was the lesson. Calmly. Calm in every sense and situation. Walk calmly. Communicate calmly. Live calmly. This is where the yoga practice becomes the life practice. Why am I rushing around walking at my North American pace when I’m here to travel and explore? He reminded me
to walk con calma,
to be con calma,
to live con calma.
These two simple words have set the foundation for my time here. I will use these words as a guide to come back to my centre. To come back to being the way I wish to be and deep down already am, but lost somewhere in the rush of life.
Now, I do look and smile at the people while I’m walking around. Sure, sometimes it prompts a cat-call (okay, more than sometimes). But, lots of times I pause to have meaningful conversation. To learn about the way people live. This way of being led me to speak with an artist of a local gallery; to learn from a local contractor about the project his team was working on; to learn about a local school. Mostly, to learn about people’s struggles and their dreams. Their hardships and their achievements.
When we’re not rushing, there’s so much life to live.
Taken on Lake Nicaragua
In just two days, I feel I have lived two months. I can hardly comprehend that I have only been here two full days. I feel like it’s been months since I’ve left home with all the experiences and conversations I have had since then. So, thank you Miguel, for helping me set the foundation and (re)discover this way of being. Con calma … in life, in conversations, in travel, in interactions, in ourselves.
With sunshine,