Absolute peace in Huanchaco, Peru. Where there is less, there is always more.
I wake up across the room from Jose — each of us in our single bed. It’s chilly and damp today. I hide for quite some time beneath the covers. It was another night that I wore my fleece hoodie. At 5:30 the morning sounds are just beginning to rise up from the street. First the rooster, then the cat walking across the corrugated metal roof: the little town starts breathing again. I can faintly hear the pounding surf of the rising tide.
It’s a special time here in Peru. Tomorrow is the 28th of July, Fiestas Patrias. It is a national holiday celebrating Peru’s independence from Spain. This weekend is also the World Long Board Surfing Championship where “surfistas” (surfers) will gather from all over the world to compete for cash prizes and bragging rights.
The gentle morning light begins to stream into the room and Jose begins to wake. I see him getting out of bed. He seems a bit stiff as he slides his legs out from under the covers, still in his black jeans from the night before — it was too cold to fully undress. He starts his morning ritual of stretching, then he puts music on softly and begins to dance. Yes, dance. So tender, so sweet, to see a mature man dancing and singing softly in this cold rustic room.
I cannot explain the aura, the energy — the joy that surrounds this man. He laughs easily and loves so, so deeply. I enjoy him, seeing how he relates to the world. It’s like a dance with nature and all that is good. He encompasses the spirit of Love. I am so blessed to share parts of his life. The good is so good — so incredibly intense. We are not together all of the time as we straddle two very different worlds, but the sweet moments sustain me for long periods of time. The world needs more of “this.” The world needs more of him. His spirit is a reflection of something of another dimension. He is many times misunderstood — by his family, by society, both here in Peru and in the United States. And so it is, sometimes, when we cannot see what is clearly in front of us.
I still do not know where this journey will take me or us. I do have unwavering faith that God has exciting plans for both me and Jose. I have ample time to sit and reflect, thankful for all I am learning and how I am growing. While I now sit and write this morning in my little makeshift office, an old desk placed between two single beds, Jose puts on Tibetan Singing Bowl music for me to enjoy during my Sacred Time in my Sacred Space. I stare into my candle that warms my soul as I sip perfectly brewed cafe con leche, lovingly prepared by Jose. Every morning we are in Peru, he prepares and serves me coffee. I do the same for him every day we are in the States. Because, you see, Less is More. The small gestures and connections we make each day become the very fabric of our lives. They are the little things that make us rich.
