Bathing in Beauty

Connecting with spirit in Tepoztlán and Mexico City

“What will you do in Mexico if you aren’t going to the beach?” asked a friend the day before I departed for an all-women's retreat to Tepoztlán, a small picturesque village just an hour south of Mexico City renowned for a unique blend of natural beauty, rich history, and spiritual allure. 

“I still don’t understand why you went to Mexico,” my 15-year-old son said when I returned. He was looking for a more tangible explanation than “to reconnect to the authentic essence of love and power that we are,” which was one of the selling points for the retreat that convinced me to sign up.

The retreat was organized by a Jackson-based healing arts practitioner specializing in crystal singing bowl therapy and mindfulness practices, Daniela Botur. Recognized as one of the few "Pueblos Magicos" in Mexico, Tepotzlan is where Daniela lived and raised her children for 15 years. Thinking this sounded like the perfect opportunity to treat myself, escape winter, give my soul space to reflect on the death of my father, and let someone guide me rather than the other way around, I talked my sister into joining me. “Don’t join a cult down there,” warned our kids, only half-jokingly. In addition to Daniela, we were energized and inspired by Kathy Prat, our Mexicana yoga teacher, martial artist, alchemist healer, and badass dancer.

Each morning, I listened to the birds, soaking in the warm sun before it got too hot, before our daily mindfulness ceremony and an elaborate breakfast in the open-air restaurant of the luxurious Amomoxtli resort. Once nourished, we joined Daniela and Kathy for a daily workshop designed to “raise our energy, help set boundaries, and deepen our connection and understanding of ourselves, our spirit, and the world around … cultivating the capacity to take responsibility for our sovereignty and aligning with our highest self.”

Our ancestors made an appearance in the form of hummingbirds, cardinals, and egrets. Traditional rituals included a Temascal, my first sweat lodge, and an energy-balancing session with local healers. Our fun and adventurous daily excursions were aligned each day with the elements of earth, water, fire, air, and ether to deepen our connection to these elements within us. Each evening, we were serenaded by a waning full moon, starry skies, and stories of the spirits, forest giants, magic, and UFOs for which the town is famous. 

sky fills with birdsong lemon sun warms winter hearts hummingbird arrives

Every sense was awakened by the volcanic cliffs surrounding us, the chatter of wintering orioles and buntings, and the colorful local markets sprawling with beads, crystals, magic herbs, fresh mangos, chilies, dragonfruit, and plantains. Walking the cobblestone streets, we were mesmerized by the women up to their forearms in bowls of dough rolling out balls for the tortillas, lovingly flipping them just at the moment they blister and ballon on giant gas-fired planchas on every other street corner and served up endless choices of spicy meats and a rainbow of salsas. Bowls of chapulines (grasshoppers!) fried crisp and tossed with salt and chilies adorned our daily guacamole, followed by plates of green and brown moles over stewed meats adorned with edible flowers and washed down with a wide selection of mezcals, each tasting of smoke and the Tierra of the pueblo from which they came. 

While our guides were great teachers, what I genuinely believe and experienced is that each of us has the knowledge and intuition to reconnect “to the authentic essence of love and power that we are” and realize our dignity and potential, but it can’t happen when we are running around like chickens with our heads cut off in our endlessly busy lives, distracted and consumed with news of wars and climate change and conspiracy theory and division and hate.

I have no delusion that daily life in Mexico is not a toil, but everywhere I looked, I saw so much beauty and joy in living. On our last day, my sister and I got lost in Mexico City looking for a handicrafts market and came upon a plaza with all the vendor stalls closed. Instead of the usual market bustle, hundreds of locals (the average age of 70) were ballroom dancing cheek to cheek in the park, serenaded by live music on this otherwise quiet Sunday afternoon. 

We visited only one museum, Frida Kahlo's home, the vibrant Casa Azul (Blue House) in Coyoacán, Mexico City; this magical place stands as a testament to the beauty that can flourish amidst adversity. Despite the intense personal pain and drama that marked Kahlo's life, her sanctuary radiates undeniable beauty. The walls of Casa Azul, awash in a deep, resonant blue, house a collection of her most intimate works that reveal a profound connection to her Mexican heritage, her tumultuous relationship with Diego Rivera, and her unflinching exploration of her feminine self. Here, beauty is not merely seen but felt, a tangible presence that permeates every corner of her home, serving as a reminder that amidst the greatest trials, the human spirit is capable of both experiencing and creating beauty and connection.

This visit made me wonder if it’s simply bathing in beauty that fills my soul. And the lack of bathing in beauty is the cause of so much discontent. Yes, Tepoztlán was an incredible natural location, but it was the combination of so many small beauties that made it special - the food they prepared, murals covering so many brick walls, a flower in their hair, music on the plaza every day, the candles burning in our meditation space, the scent of essential oils, and the open hearts and connection that happens when a circle of women set an intention to receive.

"Vive la Vida "~ Frida Kahlo

“Most of what we see in the world holds the potential to inspire astonishment if looked at from a less jaded perspective.” ~ Rick Rubin, The Creative Act: A Way of Being

As we got closer to re-entry, our phones began pinging with extreme weather advisories, road closures, election drama, and photos of Jackson Hole Mountain Resort with massive lines of people waiting for the lifts to open. Despite changing our flight to give the weather one more day, we dropped into Salt Lake City in terrifying turbulence. Our flight to Jackson was almost canceled, but a short weather window returned us to our lives.

At some point during our retreat, I told my sister that a week disconnected from technology and the stresses of modern life is needed every month. But, of course, that’s unrealistic. What we need to do is create those times every day. When disconnected, beauty and “querencia” are easy to find. It’s not so easy to find it while a ground blizzard whips around my neighborhood, and my email is overflowing. 

Arriving home, I was greeted with 5-foot-high snow drifts in the driveway. Rather than despair, though, I jumped onto the handle of a shovel instead of catching up on computer accounting. Later, I crawled into the hot tub to warm up, watched the stars peer out of the swirling pink clouds, and dreamt of the powder turns awaiting me later in the week. 

The "sacred journey" has origins in prehistoric religious cultures and myths. Man instinctively regards himself as a wanderer and wayfarer, and it is second nature for him to go on pilgrimage in search of a privileged and holy place, a center and source of indefectible life. This hope is built into his psychology, and whether he acts it out or simply dreams it, his heart seeks to return to a mythical source, a place of "origin," the "home" where the ancestors came from, the mountain where the ancient fathers were in direct communication with heaven, the place of the creation of the world, paradise itself, with its sacred tree of life. ~ Thomas Merton, From Pilgrimage To Crusade

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