Many of you who are empaths and sensitives, don't love traveling.
The changes to routine and surroundings can be very jarring.
Traveling tends to put us in a world of chaos.
It can be overwhelming and unravelling.
And yet, it's exactly that kind of chaos that also opens us up.
Recently, I visited my daughter and her husband in Cuba, and experienced the shifting and opening that came from new experiences.
We stayed four stories (eight flights) up in the heart of Havana, in a crumbling old building that looked over the entire town.
All day, the streets were loud with life and chatter. The woman in the rooftop next to us washed jeans and tee shirts and hung them to dry. A man lowered the laundry up and down with a rope and pulley. Street hawkers called out their wares. On another rooftop, a man spent hours barbequing—even though much of his patio was charred to black.
All night, the streets were louder—filled with shouting and laughter as people headed back from their nightly stroll on Le Malecon, the seawall that borders downtown.
The city never slept, save for a few hours before dawn, when all went still— the Amrit Vela, when the veil is thinnest between the worlds.
I sat up in bed and meditated in the quiet, until the sun rose in the east, and a new day began.
I was not in a place I understood.
Yet I was still a soul, as are we all.
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