Feed Your Soul - Elizabeth Heise

I left the country. During a pandemic.

Two other creative folks I keep up with have done it and stayed healthy so I am citing their cases in support of my decision. Neither have been vaccinated yet either. My friend Nathan Hale Williams—featured in my January 15 story—recently vacationed in Mexico and will be heading to a retreat in Egypt next month. After he tested negative for Covid and masked up for air travel, he hit the beach with his bestie and all was well. “You could get killed at the grocery store,” he said. Fair point.

Author and friend Joyce Maynard spent months of the pandemic in Guatemala and will bring other writers to her Covid-free spot on Lake Atitlan this Spring. I intend to be one of them. She has traveled back and forth to the US safely, several times. Over the course of six plus decades, she has faced her fair share of unexpected tragedy. By this point, she has realized that no matter how meticulously we arrange ourselves, we cannot escape what is meant to be. That’s not to say she thumbs her nose at safety. She just doesn’t lead her life by the what ifs. I sound like I am rationalizing taking a scary chance. Maybe even being an irresponsible parent and shitty partner. Perhaps I’m simply justifying travel because I’ve hit my quarantine limit with staying put. I crave freedom. And I know there are no guarantees I will be allowed to return as planned.

In Covid times, we are now required to take a test to return to our own country. Here in the Dominican Republic, officials in hazmat suits gave us all a nasal swab out by the pool after breakfast this morning. The results come in this afternoon. If anyone is positive, the hotel will allow an extended stay at a reduced rate. There are options for medical care. This is how it is right now. Based on this requirement alone, five people bailed. Others immediately filled their spots. This is an adventurous group to say the least.

The day before I left home, my daughter faced me with uncharacteristic intensity for the early hour.

“This cereal has no taste.”

Across the room, I slipped a fresh mask on from the box on the counter, my brain in full panic calculating the time I had to get her tested and still comply with the Covid questions at the airport. I had tested negative and self-quarantined in preparation with no thought to the college friends that had taken her boating that weekend. Florida universities have been hot spots for months.

“Quick, bring me a lemon,” she said. I pulled open the fridge, snatched one from the crisper and sliced it open, dropping it end down into her outstretched hand.

She squeezed juice on her tongue “Eww!” she said, wrinkling her nose at the tartness. “I guess the cereal is bland. It’s not me.” I left the mask on.

“Who do you know who has it right now?” I asked.

“No one,” she said and pushed her bowl away.

“Just be careful.” I breathed a sign of relief for my salvaged trip and headed to pack.

We had a few Covid scares leading up to a family trip a few weeks ago, but we made it to the mountains and back despite the town reporting a spike during our stay. It had been critical for our family to get some mental space outside the four walls of our home. When we finally spent time together outdoors, it brought back a long absent sense of normalcy. A plan we put in place actually happened. How we had missed that. Once we got away, whole days went by that I barely thought about the pandemic, even with my face covered. The ability to travel right now is a lofty level of privilege and I am surely grateful. A year into the “new normal,” it’s clear that when we have the chance at a change of scenery, we take it.

But for me, having the opportunity to go off on my own without the family is where my growth happens. Without the roles that define me, I have the freedom to focus on who I am, free of external expectations. I can process old pain and heal parts of me that have gone unattended.

The first time I traveled out of the country alone, it transformed me. I had just graduated college and had no idea what I wanted. My heart had been shattered in a million pieces by the betrayal of a best friend— I had lost my person. Sadness dulled my senses and I couldn’t get a read on what I needed. Neither parent welcomed me back into their homes to launch myself into the next phase of life. I decided not to remain flattened by it all. Instead, I chose an adventure.

So off I went to Costa Rica to figure out my life with a casual friend from college. Stepping out of the bustling airport, cars honking, a motorcycle hopping the sidewalk to avoid a crowd of people, I felt a lightness, despite the chaos. I was nobody’s daughter or sister, student or best friend. I didn’t have to impress anyone or make them like me. Relief washed over me. Maybe for the first time in my life, no one expected a thing from me. I could just be me and it would be okay.

That month long trip with my friend stretched into a full year traveling alone. The $600 in my pocket to start out meant camping for three months in a borrowed tent and working a few jobs to replenish my budget. Doing whatever it took to stay there was well worth it—that trip brought me back to life. Soaking in the lush tropics on hikes through the cloud forest soothed the place left raw by hurt and nurished my battered heart. I began to loosen my grip on the belief that I wasn’t worthy, that I had somehow brought treachery upon myself. I discovered that real friends shared a similar spirit and trusted each other implicitly.

All these years later, a trip out of the country looks a little different but the purpose isn’t so far off from my original mission nearly three decades ago. After this year of loss, I am washing away what I no longer need and nourishing my own soul. When the world shut down the many roles I had served were paused. With the chance to rethink my priorities, I let go of what did not serve me, despite the guilt of letting people down. For once, I chose me.

But my personal gains didn’t come for free. The loss of special rites of passage for my kids left a mark on our whole family. Once cherished friendships fell victim to separation—perhaps they weren’t meant to be at all. Remote learning and the arrested development that resulted from going nowhere with no one hit all kids everywhere. Mine are indeed the lucky ones however, watching them suffer is a particular kind of awful. I have carried that with me for months.

On this trip, I have allowed my heart to open and given voice to the part of me that has waited patiently, the one who feels like she is sitting on the best kept wellness secret of all time: writing. I have discovered who I am through sharing my story. I have found my power and tapped into my purpose. My mission is to share it with as many people as I can.

In case you haven’t heard me mention it (!!!), I am leading guided journaling at this beautiful, magical retreat. Not coincidentally, the theme for this week is opening the Anahata chakra, the heart center. In Sanskrit, Anahata means unhurt. When we open the heart chakra, unconditional love flows within and around us like air. On the first night, I got up and presented the benefits of a writing practice. Afterwards, even the photographer Ian was inspired to write.

My only expected role here is to show up as my authentic self. All we really want is to be seen and heard. And LOVED. It’s so simple. I would travel to the ends of the earth for that.

When we let go of what we no longer need and connect to our true self, we get the sense that it’s all going to be okay.

Love,

Elizabeth

WRITING PROMPT: What burdens did you take on over the last year? What are you willing to let go? What will that mean in your everyday life?

PS. We just got the tests results back. Each of us tested negative. I can actually go back to my family as scheduled. I was scared and feeling selfish. Apparently getting stuck in a foreign country with a possibly deadly virus was not meant to be. I guess the moral of the story is, go live your life. But for Pete’s sake, wear a mask. At least for now.

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