Mad Birthday Fun Times! -- Solin, Croatia

I turned 25 yesterday.

25 years old. What are my goals for this year? 

I don't particularly like goals. I like journeys and attachment to a specific outcome sometimes makes the journey seem less valuable. But this is what I'm thinking about on my journey right now. I'm learning -- 

To listen better. 

To move more slowly. 

To trust my intuition. 

Yesterday was the first birthday I've ever spent away from home. I wanted to make it a birthday I would remember.

"What do you want to do?" the other volunteers asked.

"I want to climb something really big and I want to eat chocolate and practice yoga on the top."

I woke up early and ate a light breakfast of Ivan's homemade yogurt and half a banana. I watched the sun rise over the stone chairs in Ivan's park and smashed a few almonds with a stone mallet.

I've never felt like such a caveman, I thought as I clumsily clunked the massive mallet. 

The sun glistened on the crepe paper poppies and danced on the dandelions. Dew drew my gaze as it reflected white/yellow light and I breathed in the freshness of morning.

There was no paper in the composting toilet and the neighbor's four dogs wouldn't stop barking, but I decided to ignore these details and consider the first few moments of morning perfect.

After replenishing the toilet paper, I returned to my tent to pack my crumpler bag with camera, notebook and phone. Elizabeth and Myriam rushed to my "home", wearing smiles and carrying Elizabeth's violin. Myriam sang happy birthday in French and Elizabeth played the ditty on her violin.

Hugs all around.

Giuseppe, Myriam and Elizabeth. My little workaway family.

We set off up the road at 7:15, stopping at the bakery so Giuseppe could purchase some chocolate bread and and then popped into the cafe so Myriam could send her dear Antoine (who also turned 25 yesterday) a birthday message. The video took over half an hour to load and poor Myriam kept casting us anxious, guilty looks, biting her lip and saying, "I'm sorry... I feel so bad... I'm sorry for making you wait."

"We're waiting in a cafe. I'm drinking cappuccino. Your boyfriend is getting a sweet birthday message. Everything's great."

Then we walked.

And walked.

Up.

AND UP.

I put a yellow flower in Myriam's hair.

I tried to put a purple flower in Giuseppe's hat, but he said he'd rather not. But grazie anyway.

We made it all the way to Tvrdava Fortress (after at least half an hour of getting wonderfully lost), only to discover that the entrance fee wasn't in any of our budgets.

"Doesn't matter. Let's find a shady spot and have our picnic."

Kale leaves stuffed with tuna salad. Delicious, gluten-free picnic.

Elizabeth broke out her violin and started serenading us with old Irish tunes.

I couldn't handle all the good feelings, so I asked Giuseppe if I could sit closer. Sometimes being able to feel the breath of someone else -- the heat of someone else -- the energy of another human being helps me to understand what I'm feeling. I need a sharing connection to help process the whirlwind of emotions welling up inside -- even if it's a simple back-to-back with a beautiful soul I just met two days ago.

Workaway family just outside the fortress

We twiddled grass between our thumbs (and toes) for a few more minutes and then loaded the leftovers into our backpacks and went to purchase a bottle of wine to properly celebrate my birthday at the top of the mountain. We were nearly overrun by a busload of chocolate crazed three-foot tall munchkins, but managed to purchase the wine, escape from the store and make our way toward (what we thought) was the right road. 

"Should we ask some directions?"' Giuseppe turned his clear blue eyes to Myriam, me and Elizabeth. 

"Well... sure." 

"Yes, maybe," Myriam agreed. 

"There isn't much adventure in that," Giuseppe's blue eyes twinkled a challenge. 

"No, but I would feel guilty if we all got lost because I didn't want to ask for directions."

"But Aimee," Myriam interrupted fiercely, "Aren't you always saying that decisions made out of guilt are not good decisions?" 

"Yes... Damn. Yes, I am always saying that." 

"And the reason I want to ask for directions is because I am afraid to get lost, and you say that decisions made out of fear are not good decisions." 

"Yes. That's what I say." 

"So. We aren't asking for directions." 

"Nope," I swiveled to face Giuseppe's laughing eyes. "Let's have an adventure. Which way?" 

We walked. 

It wasn't the right way. 

Neither was the next way. 

Or the next way. 

We got desperately lost, going back and forth and back again. 

"Adventure!" I chuckled whenever we had to turn back and try again. 

Myriam made perfectly childish jokes about us getting carried away by flying dinosaurs who would drop us off at Ivan's (on the trampoline, presumably). She had startlingly stellar sound effects to accompany her colorful stories. 

I'm so glad we didn't ask for directions. 

We finally found the right way and danced all over it. After another couple of hours of hiking gradual but unrelenting UP, we reached our summit.
We danced all over that, too.

 

  We drank wine, ate far too much chocolate (= just the right amount), gave massages and listened to Elizabeth regale the islands on her violin.

The walk down was steep, treacherous, full of call and repeat Italian singing, spontaneous therapeutic flying and absolutely everything I wanted.

This is flying at Ivan's, but I'm including the photo here because we did some unphotographed flying on the way down the mountain.

This. This is why I put people on my feet.

I lost my sunglasses in the grass. I experienced a moment of sadness when I didn't find them waiting for me in my bag -- thinking about all the places those sunglasses had adventured with me -- and then the sadness simply left. I didn't have to force the feeling away. It didn't merely journey from my heart to my gut.

It left. Quietly.

My life is lighter. I was wanting to get rid of the sunglasses anyway. I would like to see if my eyes can adjust to the sun without having to wear anything artificial. Just an experiment. So. Now's the time. If I'm supposed to have sunglasses in the future, they'll come to me. Just like everything else.

We returned to Nove Starine just after seven o'clock, where I found Tessa waiting for me. I snagged a birthday hug, grabbed my laptop, and then forced my aching feet back down the path and to the internet cafe.

Where I confirmed my placement in Mexico at The Sanctuary for five months this winter/spring. I will spend these months learning Spanish, discovering a slower, more accessible style of yoga, settling into stillness, participating in sunrise and sunset fire ceremonies, meditation, cleanses, and whatever workshops are made available to me. I will spend these months giving as much as I can however I can in the form of vinyasa, Thai massage, therapeutic flying and whatever needs to be done to maintain the retreat.

Last birthday was in Grand Junction. This birthday is in Croatia. Next birthday will most likely be in Mexico.

I don't like to make comparisons, but I have a hard time imagining anything more perfect than this.