

**IMPORTANT NOTICE:**

This is not a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are neither the product of the author's imagination nor used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely non coincidental.

**What others are saying about The Queen 's Escape**

"Reading the Queen's Trilogy has been an experience that was unique.  It was a surprise to read about the life of the amazing Paula!  She is much more than a writer; she is a philosopher, a survivor, an enigma, and most of all, a woman of the World!

It is a powerful, exotic, sexy document that has so much depth.  Because it is true, the power is magnified beyond one's expectations.  Her grasp and understanding of relationships, history, Yoga and spiritualism, left me wondering where the energy came from that was required to complete this demanding collection. Beyond the energy required there was also the research, analysis and coordination of a multitude of diverse concepts and experiences.  The underlying thread revealed an amazing intellect.

I will be surprised if this Trilogy doesn't surface as a Best Seller.  It is worthy of such a status. It was an honor to be allowed to read this Trilogy.  Thank you Paula."

\- Gary Little (retired Superintendent of Schools)

"What a rollercoaster of a read! It's fun and it's exciting! Once I started with this educated, entertaining and honest account of the writers adventures in Middle America I couldn't put it down. We get to know Paula Liebe as a fearless seeker of truth and light, for which she doesn't hesitate to use her body, her imagination and whatever sacred medicine she can get her hands on. We get intimate and touching glimpses of her youth and the dark secrets and tragedies she continues to escape from We must admire the heroine as a woman who does well in anything she puts her mind to, like starting a singing career where she amazes her audience with her strong voice, humor and beauty. In all her books Paula touches many esoteric and exotic subjects. She paints the big picture, connects the dots and awakens our interest. Her courage inspires us and she delights us with her sensual, free spirit. A continuous theme throughout this trilogy is the writer's sexy quest for true love and we get spicy accounts of the searches for her soul mate in many different places. I highly recommend that you read all 3 books and I am sure that after the last page, although many of your questions will have been answered, you are still hungry for more writings of this fascinating and talented woman."

\- Hannie van Dantzig

"I absolutely adored it! I love that it is non-fiction that could read as fiction.  Only I know that those stories really happened.  I remember each and every one of them like yesterday, however to the casual reader, it could be a work of fiction. I love you crazy Paula, you are too talented..."

\- Cindy Burke

"I am so very impressed. It's such fun to read. So you want to sing and you sing like a bird. You want to write and you write like 50 Shades. Good for you Chica."

\- Gary Wendt

**THE QUEEN 'S ESCAPE**

MEMOIRS OF A LIGHTWORKER

by

PAULA LIEBE

BOOK 1 OF THE QUEEN'S TRILOGY

Copyright 2013 by Paula Liebe

Smashwords Edition

Discover other titles of the Queen's Trilogy by Paula Liebe at Smashword.com:

Book 1: The Queen's Escape https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/Liebe

Book 2: The Queen's Boudoir https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/Liebe

Book 3: The Queen's Destiny https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/Liebe

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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**PART 1**

**PROLOGUE 1**

"Where is the fucking dope?" Michael screamed at me while pushing the Uzi further down my throat.

Cold and malignant was the look in his icy blue eyes, but the only thing I could think of was the hard steel damaging my teeth. I had absolutely no idea where he had been hiding his stuff this time around and after a couple of futile attempts to extract some meaningful sentences from me, he soon realized that I was further from knowing the secret storage of his shit than anybody else in his dealer circle.

"Stupid bitch!" he barked.

With a loud bang the door closed behind him.

The sudden silence left me defeated on the old stained mattress. I felt so empty and so alone. Half intoxicated I dragged my skinny and neglected body towards the dirty sink.  Through the broken mirror I stared into my hollow eyes for a long time. Then my attention strayed towards my arms. They were covered with needle marks. My God, what had led me towards this disgusting and destructive existence? Where had it all started?

My thoughts traveled back to the beginning of my American adventure, into which I had thrown myself two years before. America, the land of infinite possibilities and a country far, far away from the sickening influence my father still had on me. A few weeks before I had made the great crossing I had planned to celebrate my 22nd birthday with friends at my goodbye party. But something would prevent that celebration.

To earn the final part of the money I needed to finance my trip to the United States, I worked evenings in my father's restaurant 'Charcoal'.

As always I had prepared the 'mis en place'. Empty bottles were replaced with new ones, the cutlery was polished and the many candles were lit on time. In short, everything was perfectly prepared to receive our guests in a most hospitable way.

Through the flickering of the many flames I saw the stocky silhouette of my father striding down the restaurant. Having a well-developed sense for his unpredictable mood swings and observing how he neared me, I was forewarned of impending problems.

With critical scrutiny he had surveyed the interior of his restaurant and quickly had noticed a few details he did not approve off. Immediately he called me over and angrily started summing up all the little things that, in his eyes, showed an absolute lack of interest for 'his' business.

Powerless, I allowed his hurtful criticisms to engulf me. Slowly but steadily all the pent up anger of many years of injustice started to spread through me until it exploded outward in a fiery stream of words.

"It's never good! Never! It's never good enough!" I screamed through my stifled tears. "No matter how much I try, no matter the attention I place in carefully preparing everything, you only notice the things that slipped my attention. You only criticize! Why can't you just for once give me a compliment?"

"Because it should be the most natural thing in the world that you pay the utmost attention in the restaurant of your father!" he said with his innate authority. "And especially with my own children, such a thing is expected without me having to point it out to you."

"But you didn't even notice all the tables I set with so much care!" I cried out theatrically.

His ominous face revealed a slightly amused look when he noticed my so-called hysterical behavior, a typical female ailment in his eyes.

"Yes, as always, just ridicule me! Asshole!"

The next moment, a full fist hit my face with an unexpected force. Instead of cringing in pain and fear, his appalling violence surfaced fury in me.

"You have to beat me up again?" I roared, "Here! Hit me!"

My powerful reaction touched an emotional volcano of impotence and rage that he could not control. The next blow was even more forceful and my left eye swelled up until I could hardly see. I didn't feel any pain, only hate and rage.

"And another one!" I screamed hysterically. Through his murderous eyes I saw another blow hit my face.

"And another one!"

I don't know what would have happened if the cooks had not intervened. They pulled him away from me and I ran out of the restaurant sobbing uncontrollably. Emotional panic overtook me and I dove into one of the restaurants a few doors further down the street. I was desperately gasping for air when a terrified young waiter brought me a glass of water. I couldn't utter a single word. All I could do was try to get my breath under control and calm the emotional chaos in my head.

The guests at the restaurant were at a total loss with this pitiful scene, uncomfortably glancing my way. I wanted to get out of this place, away from yet more judgment.  Hesitantly I asked if they could please call me a taxi.

"Oh no! He did it again?" my brother asked incredulously as he opened the front door, a worried look on his face. Tears streamed silently down my swollen cheeks. What could I say? Was there anything to say? Drenched in helplessness, I felt the biggest injustice had been hurled into my face. My respect was trampled and beaten into pieces. I felt humiliated to the bone.

With a cold washcloth I tried to bring some relief to the throbbing bruises on my battered face. By now my right cheek was the size of half a tennis ball and covered with a big blue purple contusion. The eye socket around my left eye was swollen. The cold cloth did little to relieve the pain.

Slowly the numbness of the humiliation that had been pounded into me started to melt.  Aided by a cup of hot tea, little by little, my sense of worth crept back and started to warm my body and emotions. At the same time the most hateful and revengeful thoughts started to seep into my brain. Always there was one single question that prevailed over the mash of realizations. 'Why? Why daddy, why?'

For a long time my brother and I talked about our father and the inescapable influence he had on our lives. During our conversation many painful memories surfaced that, through the years, had descended into the caverns of forgiveness and forgetfulness. Those sad recollections were pulled from under a blanket of understanding and placed into raw reality. No matter how sad and abusive his own childhood had been, no matter how easily his temper was ignited, no matter with what kind of idealistic life's vision he wanted to raise his children, nothing could justify his violent and manipulative actions. That was a fact.

Never, never again did I want to feel his stocky frame pacing towards me, to see his bloodthirsty eyes piercing through me, to feel lukewarm piss running down my legs or to feel his nauseating violence. No more could I tolerate his constant criticism of everything and everybody. No more could I endure the ever-present threat of his unexpected outbursts. No more would my behavior and my emotions be affected by his unpredictable moods. If I couldn't make him disappear from my life then I would simply disappear from his.

**CHAPTER 1.**

**LOOKING FOR SUN KISSED BUTTOCKS**

I had made it! After a messy delay in Washington and a sleepless night in Miami, I finally had arrived at the airport of Cancun, my final destination.

Harry Lackey, who had agreed to pick me up from the airport, wasn't anywhere in sight. Disappointed and slightly irritated from a wakeful night I bought a phone card, called the hotel and was told he was on his way. Within twenty minutes an old beat-up Chevy rolled into the parking lot.

"I'm so sorry I'm late," Harry apologized profusely.

"Don't worry about it," I responded with a smile. "It's good practice to get used to the Mexican rhythm. It's just that I didn't sleep at all last night and I'm a little tired."

Harry introduced me to his beautiful girlfriend Pilar. One kiss on the cheek followed by a hug appeared to be the standard way of greeting in this part of Mexico.

Within forty minutes we reached Playa del Carmen and Harry parked the car in front of hotel 'Da Gabi', which looked less exotic than the pictures had led me to believe. Nevertheless, the small room they had offered me looked very Caribbean with bright colors and artistic murals. After I had placed my three suitcases in my room - the only belongings I had left in the world except for some books and photos I had stored in my mother's cellar - I went to have breakfast with Harry and Pilar at 'Pokara', a funky looking restaurant across the street. There I was, sitting under waving palm trees, enjoying Mexican eggs and a soft Caribbean breeze.

"I must admit it's really strange to suddenly just 'be' here," I started. "I mean, for months and months I've worked so incredibly hard and totally lived towards this moment and then suddenly I'm here, living in Mexico!"

"Yes, I understand," said Harry, "I've been to Holland visiting my dad and it must be such a difference."

"And what are you going to do?" Pilar asked.

"To start with... I don't know. I think I will do what I always do when I'm in a new city."

"And what is that?"

"Just walk and wander around, taste the atmosphere, feel the personality of the town and let the energy of the place work its way through me."

"You've traveled to many countries?" Harry asked.

"I still have a long list of countries I want to visit. Besides Europe and the United States I've been to Brazil and Thailand and this year I traveled to India to study yoga."

"You like yoga?" Pilar asked enthusiastically.

"I certainly do!" I responded with the same excitement.

"Then I'll bring you to one of our yoga classes."

"Thank you. That would be wonderful!"

"You're welcome," she responded with the sweetest smile.

"You know Harry, I'm so grateful to your father for offering me a room in his hotel to get myself started here."

"He has his pleasant moments," Harry responded tactfully.

I didn't know John Lacky very well. In Holland my best friend Mary had introduced us, as she was tutoring John's younger son. John was so impressed with my audacious decision to move to Playa del Carmen that he had offered to help me out with a free room in his hotel.

"He said that I reminded him of your mother."

"I agree, you do have some similarities with my mother."

"Listen, I'm going to take a shower and change. I'll see you guys later okay?"

"Yeah, sure," Harry answered.

"Yes, we'll see each other later," Pilar smiled.

Just before I was ready to leave my room to start exploring Playa's streets, I heard a knock on the door. Apparently Mary had already introduced me successfully to a few Playa people, because a wide smiling Lavonna stepped into my room when I opened the door. Lavonna took care of John's daughter Tina, who was the youngest of his three children and needed extra care because she had suffered slight brain damage during pregnancy. She gave me a warm hug and started chatting away until her cell phone interrupted our conversation.

"It's John," she whispered while she covered the receiver with her hand.

I nodded.

"He's going," she said mischievously.

"He's going where?" I asked.

"He's going crazy!" she laughed.

This was just a little example of the complicated relationship John and Lavonna found themselves in.

"Why don't you come and eat with us at the restaurant tonight. You're part of the family now. We'll be there around seven o'clock. I want to introduce you to many interesting people. Tom and Joanne for example, are building a healing retreat in the jungle. Don't worry, I'll introduce you to everybody."

"Thank you Lavonna, that's so nice of you."

"So I'll see you tonight at seven?" she asked with her happy blue eyes.

"Yes of course, that would be lovely."

After another warm hug her blond curls disappeared through the door. This was a very different Lavonna than the one John had depicted. He had compared her to a territorial street cat. It would be interesting to hear how people described John.

Playa del Carmen had grown from a sleepy Caribbean fishing village into a thriving tourist town in little over ten years. According to some newspaper articles this was the fastest growing city in the world. After a little stroll down the famous pedestrian Fifth Avenue, lined with a large variety of boutiques, bars and restaurants, I decided it was time to explore the beach. In my travel guide I had read that gay people visited the northern part of the beach, which was far from the tourist crowd, and nude sunbathing was accepted. I had done nothing else in Ibiza, so this was where I was heading.

I walked past the beach clubs 'Playa Tukan' and 'Mamita's', hotel 'Las Palapas' and a few scattered cabañas before a long stretch of virgin tropical beach appeared before my eyes. The many different shades of the turquoise colored sea were breathtaking and soothing to a restless soul. I walked quite a while and still no naked gays in sight. I was determined not to sit down until I had spotted some brown sun kissed buttocks.

Finally I eyed the long-awaited bottom. He was medium built and certainly didn't look like an oversized Mexican with his grayish curls and neatly trimmed beard. At a proper distance I placed my 'pareo' on the white sand and started to read the book Mary had given me upon my departure, a channeled message from The Pleiadians. I was convinced that the middle-aged gentleman would understand why I had chosen a spot in his vicinity, lying here buck-naked all by myself.

After a while a short stocky Mexican appeared out of nowhere and carefully placed himself between the bespectacled man and me. A bold move, I thought.

"A praia e muito grande!" I yelled at him in Portuguese - as my Spanish was still non-existent - and pointed to the miles of deserted sand. With an embarrassed look he got up and left. I couldn't blame the guy for trying.

"Well done!" said the man and from his intonation I thought I detected a New York accent. We both continued to read and after an hour or so the American started to prepare himself for the long walk home. I had no intention in staying on this deserted beach all by myself, so I quickly got dressed and walked towards this tall man.

"Do you mind my company while we walk back?" I asked carefully.

"Not at all!" he responded enthusiastically and from the look in his eyes I immediately understood he was interested in anything but men. Through the surf we walked back, all the while talking. He had striking blue eyes, a well-shaped mouth and a prominent nose, which gave him a Jewish look. He was actually not an unattractive man, but absolutely not my type and after the vow I had made in Holland, days before my departure, my sexual interest for men had practically disappeared.

Benjamin was his name, a lawyer working in Los Angeles, but a true New Yorker at heart. He was on holiday for a month to recuperate from a stressful existence in the lawyer's world as well as a painful break-up with his girlfriend.

"So, what brought you to Playa del Carmen?" he asked inquisitively.

"That's a long story," I replied, "But what it comes down to is that the Universe guided me to this particular place to start a spiritual center. I have no idea what it will look like, but I know deep down inside I'm going to find that place here and that I will meet the right people."

"Listening to your passion and determination and seeing that powerful energy you have around you, I have no doubt in my mind that you can accomplish anything you set your mind to."

We had arrived at the first streets of downtown Playa del Carmen and with an almost boyish pride he asked me if I wanted to see his house. I still had some time before dinner and he seemed such a nice, charming and entertaining man that I could not refuse his invitation. We talked about books, religion and his 'cases' that were dominated by discrimination, sexual intimidation and human rights issues. As I pictured myself as the revolutionary fighter for justice, I felt a kinship to him.

Destiny ruled one of his cases to stardom and the result was the house he had constructed four years ago. The three floor L-shaped house had beautiful sun terraces, a large round Jacuzzi and a breathtaking view of the rising sun. Thanks to the technical and artistic qualities of Arturo, the constructor of Ben's dream villa and with whom he seemed to have a love-hate relationship, his house was beautiful and stylish.

"Paula, I know a few nice people I would like to introduce you to. They would be interesting connections for your areas of interest. Actually, only the other day I was thinking that I would like a little more spirituality in my life."

"And then you met me!"

"Yes," he paused. "Exactly."

I noticed this meaningful look in his eyes.

"Hey Benjamin, I need to go."

"Really?" he said with a slight disappointment in his voice.

"Yes, I've been invited for dinner."

"Not bad for a new girl in town."

An enormous grin appeared on my face. Indeed, not bad for a first day.

"You can come by anytime. Anytime. Just call my name out loud, Will you do that?"

"Sure. I'll do that."

Like a true gentleman he walked me to the front door and we exchanged a short hug.

"Bye Benjamin."

"Bye Paula."

I felt his eyes following me to the end of the street.

**CHAPTER 2.**

**GOD 'S GIFT ON EARTH**

I was just on my way back from an early morning run along the beach when I heard someone calling my name. It took a while before I realized that the sound came from above. Ben was hanging over the edge of his terrace.

I smiled. "Oh Ben! I didn't realize it was you. How are you?"

"Not too bad on this beautiful sunny morning. And you, you look all nice and sweaty," he continued in a flirtatious way.

"Yes, well I like to stay in shape."

"Could I invite you then for some kayaking along the shore?"

"I would love that!"

"My buddy Doug and I often go kayaking in the morning and I'm sure he won't mind your company. I'll be down in a minute."

During another lively conversation we walked to Playacar, a part of Playa del Carmen designated for the well-to-do people who could afford luxurious villas with private pools. This gated community had a little bit too much of a Florida look for my personal taste.

Doug and I paddled alongside with strong strokes, but Ben still needed to get the hang of it and looked a little silly splashing around all by himself. When we returned to the villa the house was alive with people and sounds. I was introduced to Doug's wife Kim, who was seven months pregnant and to his mother in law Nancy, who had a hilariously strong Texan accent.

"We're organizing a dinner tonight. Would you like to join us? You could come with Ben," Kim offered with a friendly smile.

"Thank you, that is very kind of you," I replied.

"Ben's best friend Ken is invited," she continued, "so you get to meet him as well. He's a very nice man, a psychologist. He has a little hotel downtown."

"And you'll love Janice," Ben added. "She's Ken's girlfriend. She's also a psychologist and very interested in all that spiritual stuff you talk about all the time."

Considering the size of the kitchen and the lavish amount of kitchen utensils and equipment, the dinner promised to be very sumptuous.

After our workout on the turquoise water Ben invited me for breakfast.  We sat down at '100% Natural' where I ordered a large plate of delicious tropical fruits.

"So tell me again, why did you move to Playa? I'm intrigued," Ben continued after he had finished his smoothie.

"I told you about these shamanic ceremonies I attend, remember?"

"Yes, where you take drugs and start hallucinating."

"No Ben, that's not what I said. Listen to my words. You should know better, being a hot shot lawyer and all."

A boyish look appeared on his face.

"I said that I'm part of a group of people who seriously study sacred medicinal plants. Those monthly ceremonies are performed with great reverence for the plant teacher that resides in those sacred plants. These vision circles, as we call them, are opened and closed with prayers for permission, protection, guidance and strength, because those spiritual journeys can be very strong and intense."

"And what did you see?"

"I've seen a lot, Ben. I've seen a lot. But what I saw that particular session was the clearest image of Playa del Carmen and the absolute knowing that I needed to live here. At first I thought that living in paradise was just wishful thinking. I mean, who doesn't want to live in the Caribbean? But the Universe kept sending me these little messages of affirmation. Like you pick up a magazine and you open it and you find an article on Palenque, or a friend gives you an interesting book on the Mayans, you know what I mean? "

"Yes, I see what you mean. But still, it's a big move."

"I always knew I would end up living somewhere far away from Holland. I have too much Latino blood in me for Dutch normality."

"That is obvious."

"When I made the decision to make the move, I had a well paying job, a company car and a big apartment full of art and antiques."

"You gave that all up?"

"There wasn't much to give up. I wasn't able to find an interesting job as an environmental engineer, so I..."

"You're an engineer?" Ben interrupted me with a growing admiration in his eyes.

"Yes, but I was working as a consultant in the information, communication and technology business. I made business trips to Paris, Oslo and Vienna for those stupid millennium scare tests. You know, testing the systems on being millennium proof. And then I ended up at some huge mortgage firm, testing more stupid systems. Only my spiritual ceremonies kept me sane from that slave existence. So, I resigned, sold everything I had, bought myself a new wardrobe and here I am!"

"But you must have been here before on vacation?"

"No, I had never traveled to this part of the world before. I had planned to, but at the last minute I had changed my plans. I decided to go to Brazil instead and study sacred plants in the Amazons. That was three years ago."

"So you moved here without ever seeing Playa before?" he asked incredulously.

"Exactly!"

"You're not only a beautiful and strong woman, but also a very courageous woman," Ben said with even more admiration in his voice. "I have an idea. I know you have a free room with John Lackey, but he can be a little unpredictable at times. Why don't you stay in my extra room when I go back to Los Angeles? I don't intend to come back for a while because I will be too tied up with some complicated cases. I never rent out my house, so it would just sit empty. What do you think?"

"It sounds almost to good to be true. I don't know what to say Ben."

"Just think about it. And think about coming with me to Tulum next weekend. You'll love it." He looked at me with his flirtatious smile. "And it's very romantic."

Those were not the kind of words I wanted to hear in our conversation.

"Listen Ben, I need to tell you something." I paused for a second to emphasize the seriousness of what I was going to reveal. "A few days before I flew to Cancun I found out I was pregnant. Or at least that's what I thought. I missed the pill on one occasion and I had lots of sex with my lover, so it shouldn't have come as a surprise. But it did.  My breasts had grown a whole cup size overnight. These breasts you see here are normally a lot smaller."

Ben stared at my cleavage and then looked back at my eyes.

"I didn't dare go to an abortion clinic here in Mexico, if they have any and I had too little time to go to a clinic in Holland. I prayed for a miracle. Really Ben, on my knees I prayed and prayed and prayed that it would go away. I promised God my chastity for as long as necessary," I ended with a serious tone.

"I see," he responded with some disappointment in his voice. "That's a strong vow. Respect."

"Thank you Ben, I'm glad you understand my decision. Listen, I'm going to study some Spanish now. Shall we meet again on the beach this afternoon? We can play some racket ball. I have a set of rackets that I got in Brazil."

"I'm much better at racket ball than with those kayaks, so prepare yourself."

"I've played with the best on the beaches of Copacabaña, so we'll see," I said with a mischievous smile.

Late in the afternoon I arrived at the spot where Ben and I had met each other for the first time. I sat down on my 'pareo', pulled my book from my small backpack and started to read. Soon I was totally swallowed up by the spiritual teachings from 'The Pleiadans' and only after three fascinating chapters did I figure Ben wasn't going to join me. I was a little disappointed because I very much enjoyed our conversations and our laughs, but I concluded that something more important must have kept him from his daily afternoon beach walk.

When I walked into my hotel room, I found an envelope on the floor that had been slipped under the door. It was a long letter from Ben. What it came down to was that he couldn't spend any more time with me because I didn't want to have sex with him. 'To maintain my sanity', he had written.  Of course he also withdrew his invitation to stay at his house.

When I finished reading the pages I felt like somebody had punched me in the stomach. Sex. That's all I was good for. I wasn't appreciated for my personality, my character or my sense of humor. My cunt was the only thing that counted. What was wrong with men?

Still, this letter didn't make sense to me. We'd had such a good time. We really liked hanging out together. How could that suddenly be over? I didn't get it. I had to talk to him. He had written that I was still welcome to join him for dinner in Playacar and that he would leave at seven.

Dressed in a white linen ensemble, I arrived at his door at six, which gave us sufficient time to talk. Hesitantly Ben opened the door and welcomed me into his house. With an uncomfortable and slightly embarrassed look on his face, he offered me a glass of wine.

"Ben..." I started teary eyed. "Do you have any idea how that letter made me feel?"

"I had no... I don't know..." Ben stuttered boyishly.

"It made me cry."

"I never..."

A few tears rolled down my cheek.

"That was so insensitive of you to say," I sniffed.

"I agree. That was a poor decision of me to write it that way.'

"You didn't even have the balls to tell me in person!"

"I was actually hoping you wouldn't come by here anymore."

"You are worse than I thought!"

"I'm sorry..."

"If you think I want to be an aspirin for the pain you are suffering from a relationship gone sour, you're wrong mister. I'm not a toy you can simply use to divert yourself from your heartache. Like a little boy you are punishing me. If I can't play with your toy," I mimicked the sound of a little boy, "you can't play with mine and I never want to see you again!"

Ben had a sufficient amount of self-derision to allow a grin to appear on his face.

"And it's not going to make the pain go away either."

"I know that Paula, but I can't help myself. It's all I could think about. That's how men are. When a man wants to have a woman, he'll do anything, he'll say anything, anything to get inside."

"You guys are that carnal?"

"I'm afraid so."

"Jesus!"

"I think that he was an exception."

We laughed.

"Remember what I told you this morning Ben? Be careful what you ask the Universe, because it doesn't always come the way you expect it."

"What did I ask for?"

"You asked for more spirituality. Well, here I am, telling you the truth. I'm your mirror. Know thyself to gain wisdom, said Socrates."

"Paula, I'm really sorry I hurt you. I see my escapist behavior. Please, forgive me. Please?"

"You need to forgive yourself Ben."

He smiled.

"Ben, I really want to be your friend. It's a choice you can make, to see me as your friend. It's mind over matter, or in your case, mind over prick."

"I guess you're right."

"There is one thing I don't understand Ben. I told you I only had very young boyfriends and lovers, you know, nineteen, twenty-one, maybe twenty-four year olds. Their bodies are beautifully muscular with a soft skin. I don't know about you older men. You grow a bald spot, a potbelly and some love handles, but when you look in the mirror you think that we ladies are swooning over your appearance. Ben, you are an attractive man, but you're not God's gift on earth. And, for my standards, your dick is too small!"

"That hurt."

"I know. It's supposed to hurt. I'm saying this to turn you off. And because I'm your friend and friends are honest."

"So, now you are comparing me with a nineteen year old?"

"No Ben, I'm pulling you out of your illusion and into reality. Talking about reality, I thought I had found a friend and in reality all you wanted to do was fuck me!"

"I think the reality is that we can try to be friends Paula."

"I think so too Ben."

We gave each other a long hug.

**CHAPTER 3.**

**ANOTHER PIECE OF THE PUZZLE**

Within a couple of weeks I had developed a nice morning routine with sunrise beach runs, yoga classes with Pilar at 'Bodyworks' and daily meditations. At 'Café Sasta' I would drink a cappuccino, write a little in my diary and watch the stream of colorful tourists walk by. Also 'Java Joe' was a popular coffee hangout for locals, but I soon grew wary of all the gossiping and judgmental remarks from the owners about everything and everybody they knew. After my coffee and a light breakfast I would study a few hours of Spanish, sometimes by myself and at other times with Pilar, who had quickly become a good friend.

Everyday I would meet some new people. I had met Shane, the owner of what was considered one of the most original and tasteful restaurants in Playa del Carmen, called 'Media Luna'. I had met Yvon and Sandra, a couple from Canada who had recently made their move to Playa as well. Yvon was an incredibly talented guitar player, which came as no surprise as he had been a director of the Conservatory of Music in Quebec. A I had also met Guus, a Dutch entrepreneur who worked in Merida, the capital of the Yucatan peninsula and who spent his weekends partying in Playa.  Although his foul use of language, his burping and his big pink belly didn't work in his favor, I did recognize a guy with a good heart.

I continued to hang out with Ben, as friends. We mostly spent our leisure time on his rooftop terrace, the privacy allowing us to sunbath in the nude. We talked and laughed like good old friends and occasionally he shared an erotic story he had found on the Internet. I couldn't blame a guy for still trying.

One afternoon Ben's buddy Doug came by with his pregnant wife Kim and her mother Nancy, to admire Ben's house. He showed them around until I suddenly appeared from out of nowhere. I greeted everybody with the customary one kiss on the cheek and a small hug.

"I'll see you later. I need to see Harry about some work," I said to Ben and gave him a kiss on his mouth.

"You look all sweaty..." Doug commented with a playful tone in his voice.

"I was lying in the sun," I responded casually.

"I bet it was hot..." Doug replied with a naughty look.

It was obvious what everybody was thinking. My good reputation went right down the drain. I didn't mind. It wouldn't take long before my unusually strong appetite for sex would resurface and my true colors would be known among the community of Playa del Carmen.

This community was a strange melting pot of Mexicans and a wide blend of Europeans, North Americans and South Americans. What was consistent amongst this foreign mix of people was the sense of adventure we all possessed. I realized that Playa was a unique place in Mexico and it couldn't represent the character of this magnificent country. Playa was a young town, rapidly growing and expanding to become a large city. The international diversity provided the ground for a certain freedom of expression I had not seen anywhere else. I remembered Harry's words when he tried to explain to me the character of this special town, which was often called 'Playa del Karma'.

"There is no other place in Mexico like Playa," Harry had said. "It's like the good and the bad coming together. It attracts both equally and that is kind of weird. There is a group of intelligent and spiritual people who are drawn to this place and at the same time there is a greedy and tasteless growth of the town instigated by the American and Mexican mafia who exploit the original Mayan people."

One Sunday morning, returning from my beach run, I passed the restaurant of 'Da Gabi' and saw a bunch of familiar faces. Ben, Ken and Janice were enjoying their breakfast and all three waved at me, indicating they wanted me to join them.

"I'm all sweaty, so I'm going to spare you the kiss this morning," I said while I sat down on the one empty chair left.

"I know someone who wouldn't mind," Ken teasingly added.

The boyish look and a big grin returned to Ben's face.

"Benji, baby. When you've finished your smoothie I'll treat you to an authentic smoochy." The look on Benjamin's face was priceless. Men love promises.

Famished from a rigorous series of exercises I had added to my run, I ordered some Mexican eggs in addition to my regular order of fresh fruit.

"Paula, this afternoon we are going to see some friends in Pamuul. They invited us for a barbeque. Would you like to join us?" Ben asked me hopefully.

"Of course! I love to meet new people. Do I need to bring anything?" I answered enthusiastically.

"No sweetheart, we have some salads prepared and we'll bring sufficient wine and beer," Janice answered, "We'll leave our house at one, so please try to be on time."

"I might have a Latino spirit, but Dutch punctuality is part of my genetic make-up I'm afraid."

The barbeque was hosted by Pepe and Amy, the owners of my favorite coffee hang out, 'Cafe Sasta'. Their gorgeous villa was located right on the beach, surrounded by an immense garden filled with colorful, exotic flowers and a beautiful variety of palm trees. Along the poolside a dozen people were talking and laughing, waiting for the generous amounts of marinated meat, chicken and shrimps to be thrown on the smoldering coals.

I poured myself a glass of white wine from one of the large coolers and soon my eye caught the faces of Tom and Joanne. A few days ago Lavonna had introduced us, but there was little time to talk because they were on their way to a meeting.

"Well hello!" Joanne greeted me animatedly. "How nice to see you here!"

"It's good seeing you two as well!" I responded.

We exchanged kisses and hugs.

"I'm sorry we didn't have more time to talk the other day, but we were on our way to a meeting with Ted," she explained.

"Ted Rhodes is the founder of the ecological village 'Pueblo Sacbe'," Tom continued, "the community where we have our healing retreat."

"You have a healing retreat in an ecological village?" I asked eagerly.

"We have a vision. It's a work in progress," Tom answered.

"Ecological? Tom, I'm an environmental engineer!" I said excitedly.

"What a coincidence!" Tom continued with his charming fervor, "I guess it's time then that you come and see our project."

"I can't wait to see your development. What is it called again?"

"It's called 'Pueblo Sacbe'. Sacbe is the Mayan word for white road, or road of the light so to speak. During the times of the Mayans, the communities were connected by these roads."

"How interesting Tom. I still know very little about the Mayan history, but next week I plan to leave for a month and travel to the Mayan ruins of Chichen Itza, Uxmal and Palenque, and maybe even to the mountains to visit San Cristobal de Las Casas. I'll have plenty of time then to read up on the Mayan culture."

"I have an interesting book on the Maya civilization that I can lend you. It's called 'The Mayan Prophecies' by Adrian Gilbert," Joanne offered.

"Didn't he also write 'The Orion Mystery'?" I asked.

"Yes, he was co-author of that book."

"You know Joanne, I'm reading the most fascinating book now from Barbara Marciniak."

"Ah, you mean 'Bringers of the Dawn'?"

"Yes! You know that book?" I asked surprised.

"Of course, I read that one a few years ago. Actually, I've worked on a channeled book myself."

"Really? How exciting! This is the second channeled book I'm reading. The first one was 'The only Planet of Choice'. I read that one a year ago. Do you know that book?"

"Yes I do. A very unique book."

"And you Tom?"

"I'm afraid not. Only Marciniak's book."

"Oh, you should Tom. It gives you everything you wanted to know about the Universe but didn't know who or what to ask."

"Sounds fascinating."

"It is! It's about this research group who has communicated with a group of enlightened beings through a psychic transceiver over a period of twenty years. Among the group of interviewers was Gene Roddenberry who created Star Trek and Deep Space Nine. This enlightened circle of universal beings is known as the Council of Nine from Deep Space. There is one speaker who represents this circle and his name is Tom. He is a great storyteller like you."

"I like the comparison, please go on."

"Tom, I had no idea that highly advanced extra terrestrial civilizations have been visiting our planet for hundreds of thousands of years! I had no idea that we are star seeds. More than twenty-four different extra terrestrial races are part of our genetic make-up. Did you know that?"

"I wasn't aware of that number, but something similar came up in Marciniak's book," Tom answered.

"And I had no idea that this planet is an experiment created by God, or Source or Great Spirit, or whatever you want to call it. We are the only ones who have a free will, each one of us individually. No God can interfere with our free will. Some of us have chosen good over bad and many have not. Look where we are now. It's not a pretty picture. But we are on a threshold. It's up to us to make that spiritual change. We can make that choice. We need to. We are the change that we have been waiting for."

"You are quite the speaker yourself when Spirit moves you."

"Yes I know, I can get a little carried away at times."

"No on the contrary, I love your passion."

"And now," I continued, "with 'Bringers of the Dawn' the picture becomes even more complete. I had no idea that they had messed with our DNA. We used to have twelve strands and they left us with only two!"

"Yes, some galactic battles were fought, the baddies won and took over our planet. Did you know that they actually have a reptilian form? They're lizzies."

"I'm not so sure about that Tom."

"Then you should read 'The Biggest Secret' by David Icke. Those ancient bloodlines have continued through royalty and some of the most powerful families in the world like the Rockefellers and the Rothschild's. They run the show on this planet."

"That should be an interesting read Tom."

"Yes, it is truly fascinating reading material."

 I looked at Joanne. "Oh, don't you just love to read about all this stuff?"

"Yes I agree, it's wonderful material. Little by little all the pieces of the puzzle are falling together."

"Exactly!  The books by Shirley MacLaine were a great inspiration to me during my early twenties, and then I continued with all the books from Neal Donald Walsch."

"Yes, I recall those; the 'Conversations with God' series. I never actually read them though."

"I even have a signed copy," I said with a certain pride in my voice. "I met him a year ago in Holland after the seminar I had attended with Mary."

"I remember Mary, she was here last spring. Very nice woman, beautiful energy." Joanne commented.

"Mary spoke very highly of you two. She definitely had her role in my move to Playa."

"Everything is connected Paula."

"I know Joanne. We are one."

"Coincidences happen when the Universe is doing its work."

"But those messages from the Pleiadians are something else. We are members of the Family of Light! We are light workers. We have come here with a mission. We are here to help the people remember our true heritage. When our DNA is restored we will finally return to our true form and we will be like Gods again! Maybe we have come from the future to assist human kind in their spiritual evolution?"

"That is absolutely a possibility," Joanne agreed.

"But I've known this before I started reading those channeled books."

"Really?" Tom asked. "How so?"

"Well, my biggest passion is studying sacred plants and their ceremonial use. For the past three years I've attended many ceremonies where we have consumed Ayahuasca, Jurema or Psylocibine, especially in combination with Peganum Harmala. During one of those ceremonies I felt my own divinity so strongly. I was pure energy and could move through different dimensions. Those realities were always more real to me than our reality here and now. This is just an illusion, you know, like the movie 'The Matrix'.  I clearly saw that our planet was covered in this thick layer of dark, dense energy and that we were trapped inside. I remember that I was so pissed, thinking: I'm a Goddess and you leave me trapped on a planet where I can't remember that I'm a Goddess and you didn't even bother to tell me! I know this is a 'free will' experiment, but you could have informed us!"

Tom and Joanne started to laugh at my animated acting skills.

"Have you ever worked with any sacred plants?" I asked.

"Not the ones you have mentioned." Tom replied, "But we did take some magic mushrooms when Joanne and I were in Palenque."

"Did you know that Mexico has the largest variety in psycho-active plants?" I continued.

"I had no idea. And did you know that seventy percent of all the medicinal plants are from the Yucatan?" Joanne added.

"I didn't know that. There's another piece of the puzzle."

"Paula, I think you have come to Playa del Carmen at exactly the right time," Tom added.

I smiled. "I think so too."

**CHAPTER 4.**

**A CHILLY NIGHT**

Valladolid, a small colonial town located about 150 km west of Playa del Carmen, was the starting point of my journey to the Mayan pyramids. First I enjoyed a trip to the 'cenote' X'keken.  I descended a wooden staircase into a giant cave, revealing large stalactites and stalagmites. The underground lake was beautifully lighted through an opening in the roof and a refreshing dip in the cool, crystal clear water washed off all my accumulated sweat. With a visit to the church of San Bernardino de Siena, the oldest of its kind in the Yucatan peninsula, I completed my round of tourist attractions. A young Mayan boy offered me a free tour of the church grounds, divulging an impressive amount of historical facts. Through the garden, the small 'cenote' and the cellars, he guided me to the rooftop of the neighboring convent of Sisal. Together we watched a breathtaking sunset and waited for the full moon to rise from the east. Lying on our backs we looked at millions of twinkling stars and talked about God.

My journey continued to the archeological site of Chichen Itza, where I had found a nice hotel called the 'Pyramid Inn', which was close to the ruins. Fortunately this hotel offered a space to hang my hammock. As I stored my backpack under the large palapa, I noticed a person sleeping under a mosquito net. The size of the sandals and the vast amount of empty beer bottles suggested to me that this person was very likely not a female traveler.

Long before the throngs of tourists had arrived, I found myself on top of the Pyramid of Kukulcan, admiring the view over the Yucatan jungle. Ninety-one steps had led me to the top platform. Counting the steps on the other three faces, including the top platform, I came to a total of three hundred and sixty-five, one for each day of the solar calendar. On each face I had counted nine succeeding platforms that were divided into two sections. According to my travel book it was thought to represent the yearly Mayan calendar 'Haab', which counted eighteen months with each twenty days. The pyramid had fifty-two panels in the nine terraces, representing the fifty-two years it takes for the Mayan calendar to return to date. In addition to the beautiful presentation of the Mayan calendar, there was another phenomenon that was noteworthy of the Pyramid of Kukulkan, or the feathered serpent. During the spring and fall equinoxes the sun projects an undulating pattern of light on the northern stairway, which is caused by the angle of the sun and the edge of the nine steps. Combined with the colossal stone carvings of snakeheads at the base of the stairs, an illusion is created of a massive serpent snaking down the structure.

I continued to explore the area and its structures. I learned that this was a relatively young site, where a large Mayan community thrived between the seventh and ninth centuries and where many structures, including the famous Pyramid of Kukulkan, were not Mayan but Toltec in design and influence. Strangely I had to lie down several times on shaded pieces of grass for long periods of time, because all morning I felt extremely tired, as if a heavy energy was pressing down on me. Towards noon many loud Americans, singing Italians, clicking Japanese and other boisterous tourists began to flood the site. The invading sea of shorts, sun hats and nauseating odors of chemically perfumed sunscreens became unbearable. I decided to return to my hotel and enjoy a well-deserved siesta in a shaded hammock after a refreshing dip in the pool and a nice Mexican lunch.

I thought about reading a little more about the Mayan history and pulled out my travel guide from my backpack. According to the information in this book, the pre-Hispanic civilizations came from Siberia. The Mayan civilization flourished from the second to the tenth centuries, inhabiting a region from Honduras all the way up through Guatemala and Belize, and extending to the southern part of Mexico. The Mayan were a great civilization of builders, traders and rulers. When the Spanish conquistadors arrived in the Yucatan peninsula in the sixteenth century they destroyed priceless documents and artifacts. Only a few books survived their senseless rampage and through these books scholars discovered hieroglyphs. Soon the code of the Mayan calendar was cracked, which enabled many scholars to translate the inscriptions found on buildings, temples and stelae. Detailed astrological tables were found in these books, outshining the knowledge of the Greeks and the Egyptians.

I continued to read more remarkable anthropological facts and theories, but I soon realized that I was more interested in the spiritual meaning behind all this information.

The next moment an energetic young man in his late twenties entered the palapa. His silhouette was Mexican, but his face looked as if he was of European descent. He had a rich and powerful voice.

"Buenas tardes señorita! I was wondering who my next roomy would be," he started jovially. "And I'm pleasantly surprised I might add."

"Thank you, and how charming of you to say that. Only a European would use that wording."

"My parents were Scottish but I've lived in Mexico all my life. Mallagh is my name. Nice to meet you!"

We shook hands and realized we both had a strong handshake.

"Nice to meet you too! My name is Paula. I'm from Holland, but I recently moved to Mexico."

"Care for a beer and smoke?"

"As long as you're not talking about cigarettes."

"What do you take me for? I believe in this green medicine!" Mallagh said passionately.

"Join the club!" I added.

"You're my kind of girl," he winked.

I smiled back at him. "Kindred spirits."

"So, you just arrived in magical Maya land. To learn about the Mayans and 2012?" he asked with a certain wise look in his eyes.

"Yes, about the Mayans and 2012, and many other things as well," I replied.

"And what have you learned so far?"

"Not much of course. I learned that the Mayans descended from Siberia when their ancestors crossed the land through the Bering Strait, but somehow I find that hard to believe."

"Of course you find that hard to believe, because it's bunch of crock!"

"Where do you think they came from then?" I asked.

"I believe they came from Atlantis. Many priests fled the sinking continent. Some traveled to Mexico and some to Egypt and God knows where else. That theory makes sense when you realize that both the Egyptian pyramids of Giza and the Mexican pyramids of Teotihuacan were built around the same time and that they both have exactly the same layout: a perfect reproduction of the constellation of the three stars of the Orion Belt. Other people believe they came from the stars, because they are time travelers. At least it's a more interesting theory than that Siberia story."

"I just read that the whole Maya civilization suddenly disappeared, around the tenth century I believe. What do you think has happened?"

"I'm not sure where they went. Maybe to our inner earth 'Agartha'. Maybe their work was done here and they disappeared through some time portal. They are the keepers of time you know."

"Mallagh, why do you think they were here?"

"To share with us their knowledge about the cosmic cycles of time."

"You mean the Mayan Calendar?"

"Exactly! Those Mayans were really smart fellows. They knew that all their books would be burned. So they thought: fuck you dirty Spaniards, you see this? I'm chiseling everything in stone. Try to burn that, you hypocritical Catholic sons of bitches!"

I laughed at Mallaghs' piece of skillful acting. "And what about the date of 2012, the end of the Mayan calendar?"

"Widely misunderstood doomsday prophecy!" he blurted out.

"What does it mean then?"

"It's the date of the galactic alignment. Not only that, it's also the date that our galaxy has turned on its axis, which happens every 225 million years, so you better not miss this one!" Mallagh laughed loudly. "On the winter solstice of 2012, the Sun, the Earth, Venus and the central star of Pleiades align with the center of our galaxy. This happens every 26,000 years, pointed out by the Mayans on their long count calendar."

"Long count?"

"Yes, their long count calendar is divided in five periods of 5,125 years. In 2012 we will be arriving at the end of the fifth cycle."

"Those Mayans were magicians with numbers."

"Thousands of years ago the Mayans even calculated that a year takes 365,24200 days.  Only with the aid of highly advanced computers has modern day science been able to calculate that a year has 365,24199 days. That's 0,00001 off!"

"I find this all so intriguing Mallagh."

"Paula, there are so many different Mayan calendars. It will take some time and serious study to understand them all. But it's fascinating stuff. You should read some books by Jose Argüelles."

"Who is he?"

"He's considered 'The High Priest of the New Age'. The Mayan Elders call him the Closer of the Cycle, the cycle that comes to a close at the end of 2012. Some people even claim that he is the reincarnation of King Pacal of Palenque. He believes we need to return to the calendar of natural time, which is the Mayan inspired harmonic, and holistic thirteen-moon, twenty-eight day calendar, called the Tzolkin."

"But what will happen on December 21st, 2012?"

"Some refer to this time as the 'Great Shift' in consciousness. Other people call it the 'Rapture' or the beginning of the 'Golden Age'."

"That makes sense to me. I never believed in this 'end of time' stuff."

"We are in the process of 'raising our consciousness'. Finally we are remembering who we really are and where we really came from. This understanding will transform our reality. And the Mayans were even able to calculate the timing of this transformation in consciousness."

"Are you saying that simply our thoughts about our origins will transform our planet?"

"No, not just our thoughts. We are also being influenced by the energies from the galactic center, as well as the activity of the sun that is producing increased amounts of solar flares. These energy fields cause a shift in consciousness and an upgrade of our DNA. This solar activity has been recorded by the Mayans in their calendars."

"I had no idea."

"There is even a Mayan calendar that is not based on any astronomical calculations. This calendar illustrates the origin and the spiritual evolution of life. Pretty amazing don't you think?"

"Fascinating."

Down the street, a typical Mexican party started up and interrupted our conversation with extremely loud salsa tunes. Mexicans appeared to have a very different concept of noise pollution and nobody seemed to care. I was too exhausted to join the party and I tried the Mexican way; not to mind.

Mallagh walked over to me with an extra sheet. "Here, it can get a little chilly at night."

"Thank you. That's very kind of you."

"You can also sleep with me in my hammock," he continued cheerfully.

"Why? I'm not cold Mallagh."

"That way the music won't bother you so much."

"Explain yourself."

"Well, with a little distraction you're not so conscious of the sounds. Did you ever try that?"

I couldn't blame the guy for trying. "I'm just fine right here Mallagh, but thank you for the offer."

"All right," he said with a quiet resignation in his voice, "Sleep well then my queen. May sweet dreams enlighten your future path."

"Sleep well Mallagh."

Soon I was lost in my musings about the upcoming highlight of my trip, Palenque. Exactly three years ago I had started my studies with the sacred plants. During one of my first ceremonies with Psilocybin I had seen the time portals of the Mayans and fully understood their sacred mathematics and calendars. Those insights were lost as soon as the doors of perception closed again, as soon as the software was pulled out of my system and the effect of the ingested plants had worn of. But the essence of that wisdom stayed in my system.

I had a feeling something grand was going to happen in Palenque.

**CHAPTER 5.**

**THE WIZARD**

After Chichen Itza I continued my journey onto Merida, one of Mexico's oldest colonial cities. Besides the charm of the old center, with its colonial churches and buildings, the city offered a wide variety of cultural events and a base for an excursion to the archeological site of Uxmal.

In Merida I had met up with my Dutch friend Guus. This time, he was nothing but a gentleman and a far cry from the obnoxious, intoxicated and sunburned tourist I had previously met in Playa del Carmen. He had invited me to the theatre and afterwards to an excellent Italian restaurant where we had lively conversations about the practically non-existent social life of Merida, his international business ventures and the magical pull of Playa del Carmen. I shared with him my desire to start a spiritual center and the knowledge that had led to that decision. Guus was a man with a sobering and cynical outlook on life, so it was good practice to explain in very simple words my spiritual viewpoint on life. Nevertheless, he listened with great attention.

"Imagine yourself as a radio station. You are supposed to be able to tune into, let's say, forty-four different radio stations. At this moment, because of some historical events that have been kept from us, we are only able to tune into two different radio stations. Are you following the analogy?"

"Yes, I think I get what you mean."

"Then you can understand that with forty-two stations missing, the information we are receiving is not complete."

"Makes sense."

Guus was not a man of many words.

I was grateful for his Dutch normality and relieved to be away from the constant seductive energy I had received from the few men I had met during my stay in Merida.

I had discovered Guus' whereabouts through a man I had met during a stroll in a park on an early Sunday morning. I had just positioned myself on a shaded bench with a nice view over Paseo de Montejo when a jogger in his late forties passed by. I continued reading my Lonely Planet book about the history of Merida. Two minutes later the jogger with the big black moustache had returned and stopped in front of me.

"Are you looking for something specific?" he asked helpfully.

"No, I'm just reading a little bit about your beautiful city," I responded.

"Do you mind sharing a little shade?"

"Of course not. Be my guest."

The jogger sat down at a polite distance.

"Let me introduce myself. My name is Doctor Fernando."

"Nice to meet you. My name is Paula. So you are a doctor?"

"I'm a 'mago'," he answered mysteriously.

"You are a wizard?" I asked incredulously.

"A magician of the body I would say. I'm a plastic surgeon."

I smiled. "You got me there for a second!"

We continued to talk about life, family and religion and before we realized it, an hour had passed.

"Do you have any plans for tonight?" he asked suddenly.

"Not yet," I answered cheerfully.

"Would you like to join me for dinner? My friends would be very pleased to meet you. You have a special touch."

"I would be more than happy to meet your friends."

"Shall I pick you up from your hotel then, around seven o'clock?" he suggested.

"Wonderful!

The doctor's company promised to be a welcome change to an event that had occurred the previous evening. A skinny young man with a pockmarked, rat like face had introduced himself to me in a pushy manner. He had shoved his sweaty, limp hand into mine and started talking to me with a pointy, lisping tongue, too much saliva and smelly breath. He wouldn't give up after I told him I preferred to stay by myself.

"Why do you want to spend time with me, Jorge?"

"Because I'm so lonely."

Who was I not to offer some company to a man, just because he was ugly and had a very bad breath? This way I could practice my Spanish and get to see Merida through the eyes of a real Yucateco. He invited me for a cup of coffee and cake at a restaurant called 'Pancho's' where he told me a little about his life as a secretary at a law firm. When we stepped outside, ready to explore the rest of the downtown area, he tried to kiss me. I politely refused. He tried again. I refused again, not so politely this time.

"Here is the deal," he had said, "You pay me back the coffee and the cake and I will leave you alone."

I threw him an icy look. "What!?"

The guy was so skinny I could have knocked him to the floor with one single blow.

"You know what Jorge? Go fuck yourself!"

Fortunately a taxi passed by the restaurant and before he could realize what had happened I was in the back seat of a taxi speeding towards my hostel. Couldn't blame a guy for trying.

The taxi driver, a cute but small built Mexican boy in his early twenties, had offered to show me Merida the following morning.

Before I would enjoy the doctor's company that evening, Gonzalo had picked me up shortly after breakfast. He turned out to be a very nice travel companion. On his motorbike, we cruised through Merida and visited several parks and a beautiful archeological museum that was located on Paseo de Montejo, the avenue that reminded me of the Champs d'Elyses in Paris. He even took me all the way north to Dzibilchaltun, an old Mayan city that had continuously thrived for thousands of years until the infamous Spanish conquest. The site was known for the temple of the Seven Dolls, named after seven grotesque dolls that had been found during excavations. The most remarkable aspect about this unimpressive structure was its precise astronomical orientation. During the equinoxes the sun's rays would blaze through the doors and windows as it first rose and then set.

Gonzalo had taken me back to the city and we were standing in front of my hostel.

"You know Paula, I can show you that I'm a real man."

I smiled mysteriously.

"Are you in love with someone in Playa?" he asked carefully.

"Yes Gonzalo, I have a boyfriend," I lied.

He smiled and gave me a long hug. It was good.

I had showered and prepared myself for an interesting evening with the 'mago'. His jogging gear had been replaced with a classy linen suit and he wore gold-rimmed glasses. As a true gentleman, he opened the door of his dark blue Audi for me and we drove to one of his favorite restaurants. He was entertaining and charming and I felt at ease. We conversed in a lively manner and as the evening wore on I noticed that the 'so called' friends, who would be so pleased with my company, never did join us.  The trick had worked. Couldn't blame a guy for trying.

After a lovely dinner he invited me to the rooftop of his clinic to watch the full moon. He talked about how he had built his clinic during a period of ten years and I could hear his passion for making people beautiful. I talked about my dreams for the future and my plan to start a spiritual center, where people would be prepared to participate in vision quests.

"But you will be so famous that you will hardly remember me," he protested.

"Of course I will. You have no idea how much I cherish moments like this. We are sitting on the roof of your clinic under a full moon, smoking some green medicine. How good is that?"

"I think it's really precious that you confide in me and tell me your dreams," he continued.

"It feels good to talk to you."

"You know you are a very attractive woman?"

"Thank you Fernando, but let me shatter your dream right now. Nothing is going to happen between you and me. Absolutely nothing. I want to be able to look your wife in the eyes when we meet. And I simply don't feel attracted to you. It's as simple as that."

"But I'm not giving up so easily."

"Of course not. You should never give up on what you believe in. I never do."

"That's why you must allow me to make love to you."

"Fernando, I must nothing! I told you how I feel about you!"

"Mi reina, it's such a waste not to do it!"

"As you say, I'm a queen. Now you know why nothing is going to happen."

"You are so cruel. What a waste," he moaned.

"Mi amor, you'll survive."

Fernando had invited me for dinner a few more times, but his insistence made me feel sad and disrespected. I even felt anger because I felt I wasn't good enough. Being me wasn't good enough. It was sex that was required to make a man happy.

On my last day in Merida I decided to take a bus to Progresso, a northern coastal town with a beach and a murky sea. I stared out the window, mindlessly observing the surrounding panorama. I thought of the sound of Fernando's voice, his smelly moustache and his big hairy body that he had pressed against mine during an attempt to seduce me. It was playful. No harm done.

Tears started streaming down my cheeks. Suddenly I realized why I only felt attracted to young men with beautiful soft skinned bodies. They were not like his, big and smelly, like a real man. I felt weird. I felt strangely emotional. I realized a piece of old 'hurt' had resurfaced, ready to be healed. When I returned from my beach trip I went to my room and cried my heart out. Then I started to write:

Dear Fernando,

_On a Sunday morning you told me you are a 'Mago'. Maybe one day you will find how true this statement was. You also told me that you are a doctor. You have healed a part of me that needed healing. The little girl inside of me cried a lot today. I did not know there was still so much pain after all those years. I thank you for helping me heal myself. I thank you. _

_La Reina_

I had called Guus.  He had invited me for dinner and a theatre show. Later in the evening we arrived at his hotel room.  We smoked some green and we talked until well after midnight about everything except spirituality and my emotional distress.

"Why don't you spend the night here? As you can see there are two separate beds. I suggest you pick the one that has clean sheets, that one over there. Tomorrow I'll take you to the bus station," he said with a neutral tone in his voice.

"Thanks Guus. You have no idea how much I long for a comfortable bed at this moment."

"I guess I don't, but you're welcome."

"Sleep well."

"Sleep well."

I thought about my long awaited trip to Palenque. I had a feeling something exceptional was going to happen there.

**CHAPTER 6.**

**YOU TAKE MY BREATH AWAY**

I woke up with a heavy pressure in my head like big claws were grabbing my cranium. Exactly like the first night when I stayed at the foot of the ruins of Chichen Itza, I had slept more than twelve hours and I had awoken with this strange heaviness.  This time it was much stronger.

Slowly I allowed myself to pull away from my intense dreams, quietly lying in my hammock. I listened to the early morning sounds of the jungle of Palenque. In the far distance, a howler monkey produced eerie growls, which were followed by the high melodic flutes of a few tropical birds. Thin layers of mist hovered between the skirts of the Chiapas Mountains before dissolving in the first rays of sunlight.

The previous day I had arrived at Palenque and immediately I called Scott, a friend of Tom's, but someone I had yet to meet. Generously he had offered to pick me up from the downtown 'zocalo' and drove me to his house where a few of his friends had gathered. We rolled big cigars filled with green medicine and soon we were immersed in passionate talks about our favorite sacred medicines and the energy of Palenque. They listened intently as I shared my experiences working three years with my beloved 'Maestra Ayahuasca'. Scott had shown me, with some pride, a small bottle of the sacred brown liquid.

"Every year, right here at the foot of the hills of Palenque there is a convention on psycho-active plants. Next February will be the next one," Scott informed me.

"To meet Terrence McKenna or Jonathan Ott, that would be a dream come true. One day..." I had answered dreamily. That very moment I had experienced the strongest desire to be present at one of those gatherings of the 'Masters'. It felt as if they were part of my family. When the time came some opportunity would present itself, that I was certain of.

It was very early in the day when I decided to hike to the ruins of Palenque, using the secret trail Scott had pointed out to me that would allow me to enter the site before the official opening time. I arrived at the desolate park and sat down in front of the tallest and most stately building, the famous Temple of Inscriptions. Inside this mysterious structure archeologists had discovered the legendary tomb of King Pakal. The jade mosaic death mask had been removed to the National Anthropological Museum of Mexico City, where it had been stolen in the '80s.  However the stone sarcophagus lid with the representation of Pakal and its mythical images and glyphs recounting the kings' reign still remained in place. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine what this immense city had looked like throughout its glorious years during the seventh century, when all the structures were painted red. I felt the deep mystique of this mysterious place and I continued to meditate and pray. I asked for light and protection and assistance in my spiritual growth.

A little tap on my shoulder awoke me from my meditation and a security guard politely requested that I remove myself from the premises. I was a little disappointed but grateful that I had had a special moment all by myself in front of one of the most mystical temples of Mexico. I walked towards the main entrance where a few early tourists were waiting for the site to be officially opened.

"Hey Paula! What are you doing here?"

I looked around, surprised to hear someone talking to me in my own language, and spotted two old classmates from college.

"Hey Daan, Gijs, what a coincidence! Are you here on vacation?"

"Yes, we were tired of the Dutch rain so we decided to make a trip through Mexico. We're on our way to San Cristobal and then to Oaxaca. How about you? On vacation as well?" Daan asked.

"No!" I answered with a proud smile. "I live in Mexico now!"

"Wow! How adventurous," Daan said.

"Working as an environmentalist?" Gijs asked.

"I'm working very hard to preserve the unique beauty of this planet and to assist us all in our evolution. I would call that an environmentalist, wouldn't you?"

"I guess so. I'm stuck behind a desk from nine to five and they call me an environmental engineer. I suppose we all have a small part in the bigger picture."

"Yes, we do. We're all connected. So, if you ever find yourself in the neighborhood of Playa del Carmen, make sure to connect with me, okay?"

"Will do!"

"Take care of yourselves then. Enjoy the ruins, they're magical."

"We will. Good luck with your life in Mexico then!"

I turned around and started the long walk back to the camping grounds of 'Mayabell', feeling so happy with the realization that I was actually living in Mexico, free of a slave existence behind a desk in a cold and rainy country. I was free to build a beautiful new life filled with love, spirituality and adventure.

I had decided to move to a different camping site called 'El Panchan', one that Scott had recommend, so I would be able replace the hammock for a real bed in a small cabaña. When I started unhooking my hammock a Belgian guy named Sam introduced himself and started chatting with me.

"Leaving already?" he asked with his darling Belgium accent.

"Just moving to 'El Pachan'. I'm getting too old for a hammock," I answered with a shameful grin.

"Yes, I get what you mean. We're not eighteen any longer. But before you go, would you like to join us for a tour through the jungle to the waterfalls? We're with a group of ten, mostly girls, and our guide Ricardo."

"Sure! That would be great!" I answered, despite my growing headache.

"We'll meet at the reception in half an hour."

"I'll be there Sam."

The tour through the jungles of Palenque was breathtaking. When we arrived at the waterfalls we took off our clothes and covered ourselves from head to toe in clay, allowing the purifying properties of the mud do its work. Only Ricardo and I were completely naked. The others had kept their swimsuits on.

"Why are you so quiet?" Ricardo asked.

"I have a splitting headache," I answered.

"Then we have to open your head."

"Open my head?"

"Yes, let me see what is holding you. Will you allow me to touch your head?"

"Sure, go ahead."

Ricardo placed both his hands around my skull and closed his eyes.

"Ahhh, now I understand. There is very big eagle holding your head. Eagles are powerful spirit animals. I think, now that he is recognized, his grip will diminish."

"Can you really see all this?"

"My grandmother was a medicine woman. I guess she passed on some of her gifts."

"What beautiful gifts."

"Indeed they are. But enough about all that. Let's move on with our tour."

"You know Ricardo, I think I'm going to head back. I'm really not feeling well," I said while a growing pain in my underbelly erupted. "Don't worry about me, I'll find the trail back to the road."

"Take care of yourself then."

When I arrived at the camping site of 'Mayabell' I hurried to the bathroom and discovered that my underpants were soaked in dark, red blood. Suddenly the pressure in my head disappeared. I profusely thanked God and the eagle and whatever guardian spirits or angels that could have been involved. Even though I wasn't in a church or on some sacred grounds, but with my bloody pants around my ankles sitting on some shabby toilet, I was sure they accepted my heartfelt thankfulness just the same.

After changing into some clean clothes and having packed my backpack I moved to 'El Panchan', where miraculously a small and cheap cabaña, nicely secluded between a small creek and some trees had become available. The compound was truly beautiful. There was a large jungle-like garden with colorful flowers, little streams and small pathways that led to several units owned by different proprietors. There was a place for hammocks, but also a variety of simple cabañas as well as more luxurious houses. There was a place for breakfast, a few places for snacks and even a good restaurant called 'Don Mucho' which offered live music.

When I wanted to light some incense in my little cabaña I realized I had left my lighter at 'Mayabell'. I decided to borrow a bike from the reception and ride back to find my lighter and to grab the opportunity to look for Sam and ask him about the hostel he stayed at in San Cristobal.

I didn't see Sam, so I placed the bike against a post of the central palapa and started to walk over to my old spot, hoping to find the lighter. Suddenly I felt someone staring at me. I stopped and turned around. I looked into the most beautiful green eyes I had ever seen in my life. The mysterious smile on his olive colored skin was framed by an enormous amount of long, sun-bleached curls.

He took my breath away.

**CHAPTER 7.**

**WHEN THE RAIN STARTS TO POUR**

I looked into his eyes for a long time and I felt completely mesmerized. After a period that seemed like hours I was finally able to pull myself away from his gaze. I turned around and started to walk towards the entrance in search of my Belgian friend, but before I could reach the reception Sam caught up with me and we continued to walk towards the restaurant.

"Hey! I was looking for you!" I started.

"I was wondering where you went, at the waterfalls," Sam continued.

"I never feel comfortable with women who don't dare to be naked."

He started to laugh. "I see what you mean."

"So what is the name of that hostel you were talking about, the one in San Cristobal?"

"Oh! Yes, I stayed in 'Casa Veronica'."

"I'll remember that name."

The mysterious man with the piercing green eyes had placed himself a few tables behind ours and continued to stare at me, without a pause. I conversed some more with little Sam, but I was so distracted by the man's presence that I quickly thanked Sam for his company, his invitation to the waterfalls and his helpful information regarding my upcoming destination of San Cristobal de las Casas. But right now my destination was a table where a drop dead gorgeous man was sitting who, for some strange reason, couldn't take his eyes off of me.

"Hi! My name is Paula," I said while I offered him my hand from across the table he was sitting at.

"Hello! My name is Jayms," he said with a deep rich voice, still looking at me intently.

"Do you mind if I sit down at your table?" I asked with a flirty smirk.

"By all means, be my guest," he gestured invitingly. Finally a hint of a smile appeared on his serious face.

"So," I started, "do you come here often?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact I do," he answered without showing any emotion.

"That was supposed to be a funny remark, but I guess that only goes for us Dutch folks," I continued.

"Ah, you are from Holland," he responded with a smile.

"And you, where are you from?"

"My father is American from British descent and my mother is from Mexico."

"That explains your name!"

"Very likely. But about your remark, I was just referring to my current profession."

"And that is?"

"A guide."

"A spiritual one?" I asked teasingly.

"Maybe. It depends on what your definition of a spiritual guide is?"

"Someone who is able to help people connect with Spirit!"

"Well, the company I work for just offers a simple adventure. There's nothing spiritual about that."

"That depends on how you look at it Jayms."

"True. Spirit is everywhere."

"And what do those adventures look like then?" I asked.

"I pick up my group from an airport and then we tour with our van and camping gear through Mexico. Sometimes it's a big group for only a week. Sometimes the group is smaller and we travel all the way down to Guatemala or Honduras."

"Do you ever visit Playa del Carmen with your groups?"

"Yes when I have some people who want to go diving. But we mostly stay at Xpu Ha because they have some nice camping grounds. But why did you mention Playa del Carmen?"

"Because I live there," I said proudly.

"I see," he said quite unemotionally. "Since when do you live there?"

"Since three weeks ago!"

"And why did you move specifically to Playa."

"That's a long story, but I want to set up a spiritual center. Actually, I've been thinking about organizing tours, like you do, but more like vision quests, tailor made trips for the spiritual adventurer. What do you think?"

"Interesting idea," he commented.

"You think so?"

"Absolutely! And so are you..."

"What! I'm what?"

He smiled. "You are an interesting woman."

I returned his smile. "Tell me Jayms, why have you been staring at me all this time."

"Because you are different. There is something about your energy, that mystical look in your eyes, I don't know, but you're different."

"And you Jayms..."

"What about me?"

"Yes, what about you?"

"How about this? I'm organizing a barbeque for my group tonight. If you feel up to it, come over later to join us."

"Sure, why not?" I answered

We looked in each other's eyes for a long time.

"See you later child."

"See you later Jayms."

I biked all the way down to the small and ugly town of Palenque to buy some groceries and a few meters of rope to hang my hammock, and then I pedaled the long uphill road back. Pleased with my new cabaña and the newfound privacy, I hung my hammock under the trees and alongside the sound of the little creek I continued to read the messages of the Pleiades. I had decided that after finishing the book I would organize a private ceremony for myself with my beloved mushrooms. The book showed me page-by-page, black written on white, what I had felt for years during my ceremonies with the sacred plants. I had felt I have a special mission on this planet, an important responsibility for mankind. I felt like a transformer for this planet, someone who was able to carry that enormous divine column of universal love and translate this energy into light and knowledge for humanity. At times I had felt like a 'Gatekeeper', the opener of gates, as well as the gate itself, through which millions of lost souls could transform themselves and be able to return to the Light. But there was no one I could talk to about what I truly believed, that I was actually a star seeded Goddess, visiting this planet for a most important assignment to help mankind and mother Earth through its spiritual evolution.

I decided to go to the restaurant to eat, socialize and score some green medicine. Soon I was sitting at a table surrounded by travelers from Argentina, Australia and Japan. One of them was about to leave for San Cristobal and wanted to sell me his stash. Lucky me. We ordered dinner and some drinks and talked about our travel adventures. I enjoyed the relaxed backpacker atmosphere.

Suddenly it started to rain and I decide to run quickly to my cabaña before it really started to pour. This turned about to be a good decision, because the moment I opened the door of my cabaña, I heard a loud clap of thunder. A real storm had unexpectedly started and I loved it. I smoked some green medicine and lay down on the bed. I visualized the light and energy of the thunderstorm running through my body, as if it were a tool, changing my frequency and transforming me as the Pleiades described.  The visualized energy was very powerful and I felt my whole body tingle. More loud thunder bursts exploded above my cabaña, as if the Gods were making themselves heard. I could hear them whisper through the sounds of the clashing rain. _She 's here, she came... finally... now she knows..._

That night I had a vivid dream about Jayms. I could clearly see the shape of his face, his friendly eyes, the sensual shape of his mouth and the long strands of sun bleached curls. Suddenly his green eyes turned blue and he had a grey beard and moustache. He was so beautiful.

The next morning I walked to 'Mayabell' to look for Jayms. I passed the entrance and walked into the compound, only to find a bare piece of grass were several tents had been set up the day before. I felt an unusual sense of emptiness when I looked at the vacant camping spot.

**CHAPTER 8.**

**MEET THE FAMILY**

I returned to 'El Pachan' with an inexplicable sadness. I decided to go to the little vegetarian restaurant of 'Rakshita' for a light breakfast and to socialize with the always-interesting backpacker crowd. The sweet Australian couple I had met the previous day were munching away on a variety of tropical fruit with home made granola and I ordered the same plate. We exchanged some pleasantries, but soon after I had finished my food, I moved upstairs.

On the second level of the restaurant the owner had created a place to read where many wooden shelves were filled with books on archeology and Mayan wisdom. A beautiful mural of mystical visionary art depicting the Temple of Inscriptions under a sky full of stars and magical butterfly-like beings immediately caught my attention. There was a large table surrounded by colorful and differently shaped chairs and a few hammocks hanging in the corners. I picked up the book that was left on the table called 'The Mayan Oracle: Return Path to the Stars'. I opened the book and found myself staring at a symbol that represented the number thirteen: two straight vertical lines with three dots on top. The symbol stood for 'Universal Movement', a wild card that represented unseen forces and radical change and asked for surrender to the larger picture of who I really was. This card provided the possibility of a radical 'frequency shift', to become a 'Skywalker'.

I flipped through the book and found myself at a page with a glyph called 'Manik', the cosmic dancer and gateway.  This glyph was associated with opening in order to receive spiritual tools. That tool was I, the gateway to the Light and the keeper of wisdom, voicing the sacred ancient ways.

I found another book on Mayan astrology and calculated my sign to be 'Etznab 8', the 'White Galactic Mirror'. My sign was located at the spinal column, the Kundalini, of the Tzolkin calendar. There was a little poem written under the sign.

_I h_ armonize in order to reflect

Modeling orderI seal the matrix of endlessness

With the galactic tone of integrity

I am guided by the power of spirit

I lay down in one of the hammocks. I took my time and allowed the words I had just read to slowly settle into my system. Then I pulled the Pleiades book out of my backpack and started to read the final chapters of this revealing book.

I had planned to do a ceremony with my beloved mushrooms as soon as I finished the book and it looked like I was going to be able to read the last pages on this lazy tropical day. At 'Rakshita's' compound I had found the perfect spot to meet with my 'beloveds'. The owner had created a round meditation temple, surrounded by lush tropical gardens. A small painted sign showed that this temple was a place of silence, indicating it was a space that was sacred and protected, where nobody would dare to disturb me during my spiritual work.

The next morning I took off towards the ruins. A couple of backpackers had told me that a few miles past 'Mayabell' I would be able to find some Mayan farmers, waiting in the bushes to sell me mushrooms. Long before I had reached the camping site a short Mexican man suddenly stepped out of the greenery.

"Hongos?" he asked.

"Si!" I answered without hesitation.

With a friendly smile he gestured me to follow him to a more secluded part of the foliage, offering us a little privacy from curious eyes. He showed me a large bag of dried mushrooms, and more interestingly, a large handkerchief filled with freshly picked mushrooms. I asked him if that amount of fresh mushrooms would be sufficient for a 'nice' journey for one person. He looked up, turning his face to the sky and whistled.

"Ayayay, Senorita!"

"Cuanto es?" I asked, reassured by his reaction.

"Cinquenta Pesos," he answered. I gave him the bill, politely refused his invitation for a trip to the waterfalls and started to walk back to my cabaña.

I took a shower and dressed in my white ceremonial clothes. Then I packed my little backpack with everything I needed for my ceremony. First the magic mushrooms, called 'Psilocibyne' and also the green medicine, called 'Santa Maria', both used for these sacred occasions. Then I packed a little pillow to sit on, a bottle of water and some dry toast. I added a candle, some incense and a little statue of a funny dragon, my Chinese sign. The little dragon helped to remind me of my tendency to dive fearlessly into situations without covering my wings, flanks, or tail. It had gotten unnecessarily rough at times.

I walked up the stairs to the second floor that was reserved for meditation. The ground floor was intended for yoga practice. I placed my pillow in the middle of the round space, about five meters from the altar, which was located towards the eastern end of the circular space. I added some flowers to the altar that carried a picture of the owner's guru, a beautiful Indian woman with peaceful eyes and a mystical smile. I lit the candle and placed it between the altar and my pillow as a point of focus. I lit some incense and unpacked all the ingredients I was to ingest, representing water, earth, fire and Spirit.

I thanked 'Mother Earth' for offering me such beautiful plants to work with and asked her for protection and guidance. I thanked 'Father Sky' for his beautiful presence and asked him for protection and guidance. I asked the space itself for permission and protection to do my work. I turned to the four directions, acknowledging their presence and I asked them for protection and guidance. I asked every nature spirit and entity present at that precise moment and in that specific space for protection and guidance. I asked the plant teachers, the Spirit of the 'Psilocibyne' and the Spirit of 'Santa Maria', to give me strength and inspiration through this cosmic and divine journey. And for the first time in my life I asked my newly found 'Family of Light' for inspiration, guidance and healing of my DNA. I asked them for a quickening in my spiritual evolution. I offered my intention to serve the Divine purpose and I promised to work with dedication and discipline towards fulfilling my destiny as a member of the 'Family of Light'.

I sat down on the pillow with crossed legs, closed my eyes and brought my attention to my breath. After a few minutes my mind became calm and focused and I opened my eyes again. I took out the mushrooms and one by one placed them in my mouth, mindfully and very slowly chewing them up, adding a bite of toast once in a while to avoid the nausea. I truly enjoyed the earthy fungus taste. I realized that my beloved mushrooms had the most pleasant taste of all the sacred plants I had ever ingested. I also realized that no matter how foul or nauseating the taste of the sacred plants I had consumed, the divine experience was completely worth it.

For at least an hour I continued to meditate, focusing on my breath and on opening my heart. Throughout the years I had learned that without the opening of the heart chakra, no magic would occur. Love was the magic touch.

Slowly I started to feel the energy of the sacred mushrooms flow through my body. As always my skin turned cold, despite the agreeable temperature, and I pulled a comforting shawl around my shoulders. I continued to focus on my breath and the intention of this ceremony. This ritual was dedicated to the messages of the Pleiadians. I wanted to receive more information, light codes, DNA upgrades, the works! I wanted to remember who I was! I wanted my heritage back!

After an hour I knew it was time to add the magic of 'Santa Maria' to the ceremony and I smoked it. The effects of those two beautiful plants together were like a match made in heaven. They complimented each other so well, balancing out the male and female energy of both plants.

I started to circulate my energy by locking my 'bandhas', which are the energy wheels located close to the first three chakras, so that the extra-generated energy wouldn't leak back into the Earth. I started to practice a yogic breath called 'Ujjayi Breath', by applying a slight pressure on my throat and creating a breath that sounded like the soft waves of the ocean washing ashore. With every exhale I pulled up my energy through my chakras until it finally reached my heart and then...

Then the veil lifted and I was home. The frequency and the vibration had changed and I could 'see' again. Everything around me had turned into delicate geometrical forms with the most exquisitely bright colors. A sensation of Divine power overtook me. I felt like a Goddess. I felt a powerful love. That love was my essence, my spirit. I was capable of creating everything through that love. Anything remotely related to something evil or emanating any negative vibration I could simply transform with my loving being. I finally 'remembered' where I came from and who I truly was.

The Light Beings I felt around me shared an essential message.

"Don't worry! There is no need. Everything is going to be all right. We love you dearly and we are so proud of you. Hold on. It won't take much longer. Know that at all times you are well taken care of. You are constantly protected and assisted. It cannot be any different, because you are here to 'serve' human kind during these troubled times. You are an important connection, a gateway, an opening to the Christ consciousness. You are the light. You are Christ consciousness. You do not need to preach. You simply need to be who you are. Through your portal millions of souls will be able to return to the light. Remember what you are here for. Remember that we are here to help you. You simply need to ask us."

Never before had I received such a clear message during a ceremony. Then a large pillar of powerful light started flowing through me and it took all my concentration and focused breathing to hold this energy and not be burned by this force of cosmic light. I realized that my years of spiritual training allowed me to carry this incredible powerful energy all by myself, simply by staying completely focused and staying in my heart, my light, at all times. This Divine energy was forcefully flowing through me like an uncontrollable stream of molten lava, healing and forever changing me. After a while it felt like my physical body had disappeared and I had become pure golden white light. I felt like the Universe was making love to me, experiencing a cosmic orgasm, like golden waves of love were flowing through me.

I understood that I desperately needed moments like these to recharge, to heal and to remember why I was here, and that I was only temporarily disconnected from my Family of Light. A little patience was all that was necessary. The enduring times of darkness and dense energy would not last much longer. Soon the changes would be clearly visible. I felt how we all, at some point in the future, would transform ourselves and naturally move into other dimensions. We would merge into different kinds of frequencies where it would become clear how everything is connected and we all would realize that we are One.

We needed to prepare ourselves. Through yoga and a cleansing diet we needed to create strong and healthy bodies that would be able to carry immense light and energy. Through meditation we needed to train our mind to be calm, peaceful and focused. But most important of all was that we started to live from our heart, a place of love, compassion and forgiveness. Without love, magic would not happen. Soon even our physical bodies would become pure energy, capable of absolutely everything. There would come a moment in the near future when we would move permanently to the other dimensions and leave this dense reality behind. We would finally return home. This I felt very strongly.

The plant teacher of the 'Psylocibine' had decided to take his leave and slowly the earthly reality replaced the multidimensional visions I had found myself experiencing during the past few hours. The mystical images started to fade and the doors of perception started to close. The software was pulled out and the veils covered my vision again.

For another half an hour I sat in mediation, slowly becoming aware of my surroundings. It is always a strange and almost sad moment, when the regained insights start to fade and only the slightest imprint is left to feel. At the same time it is a relief to experience a physical body again, to feel the wind against my skin, to hear the rustling of the leaves and to feel hungry.

I felt an immense gratefulness for the two plant teachers and all the nature forces, spirits and entities whose protecting and guiding presence I had felt.  My deep heartfelt thankfulness I spoke out to them and of course to our beloved 'Mother Earth' and 'Father Sky'.

I still felt speechless over the messages that my new family members had given to me. I'm an important gateway! This ancient wisdom had come to me through these sacred plants. The message was true. I felt a certainty beyond reason, because there was an element of remembering, like I already knew all the information given to me.  Still, it felt like I was carrying a secret within me, a secret that gave me a warm feeling inside, that gave me strength and faith to go on, and to follow my destiny.

But with whom was I going to share this information with? How could I explain myself? What was I going to say?

"Hi guys! I'm one of those new Christ chicks, you know, one of the multidimensional babes of the future!"

Who would believe me? But more importantly, I knew who I truly was. This experience at the foot of the ruins of Palenque was unforgettable, life changing and grand.

**CHAPTER 9.**

**BRINGER OF MESSAGES AND DREAMS**

The cobble stone streets of San Cristobal de Las Casas created an atmosphere of medieval times, romantically complementing the colonial architecture of this old Hispanic city, located some 2,100 meters high in the mountains in the state of Chiapas. The air was thin, the sky was a crisp, bright blue and the sun only warmed the streets during the day. At night it was cool.

Through a maze of little alleys I finally found the guesthouse that was recommended to me in Palenque and magically, a private room with one double bed and a bunch of warm blankets had just become available that morning.

I was on my way to the museum of 'Na Bolom'. A little sore from the horseback ride on a 'wooden' saddle the previous day, through the pine-clad Valle de Jovel where the colonial city of San Cristobal was beautifully nestled, I steadily climbed the hill to my destination. The Swiss anthropologist and photographer Trudy Blom and her Danish archeologist husband Frans Blom had bought the 19th century Hacienda style house in the 50's. The couple had shared a fascination with the state of Chiapas and it's ancient culture and heritage. Frans had explored the old Mayan sites of Palenque, Tonina and Chinkyltic. Trudy had devoted most of her life studying, photographing and protecting the 'Selva Lacandona', a biosphere with an immense diversity in flora and fauna, and the isolated Lacandon people who can be traced back linguistically and culturally to the Mayans and the bloodline of King Pakal .

After Trudy's death 'Na Bolom' continued as a museum, guesthouse and institute for the study and preservation of Chiapas' indigenous cultures.

I had read that the museum was filled with unique anthropological and archeological artifacts and many breathtaking black and white pictures of the Lacandones taken by Trudy Bolom over the years, so I decided to take a guided tour at the end of the day. I bought a ticket at the botanical garden across the street and, along with a few more tourists scattered around the garden, waited for our guide to give us a tour through the museum. My eye was caught by a short indigenous man with large black sunglasses, who was leaning against a wall with a cup of coffee in one hand and a cigarette in the other hand. His appearance carried a powerful energy. He turned out to be our tour guide. After the tour was over I approached him.

"Is there a possibility that I could visit the neighboring indigenous villages you just talked about?" I asked him.

"There certainly is!" he answered happily. Actually, I'm going tomorrow. You should bring your camera because it's Sunday and on Sunday there are colorful markets."

"I would love to go tomorrow, thank you for the invitation"

"You're welcome. By the way, my name is Pepe'n."

"My name is Paula. What an interesting name you have."

"My name means butterfly in Tenesapa-Zeltal, the language of my tribe," he explained. "It means the bringer of messages and dreams."

I smiled. "How beautiful."

"I would also like to invite you for dinner. Every night we have dinner in the large communal dining room here at 'Na Bolom'. It's a great way to meet interesting travelers and researchers and I would like to take the opportunity to talk some more with you."

"Dinner? In that beautiful room with that large table you just showed me? Well, thank you!" I answered gratefully.

We walked towards the big courtyard and sat down on one of the wooden benches that lined the dark red colored walls, enjoying the last rays of sunlight.

"When I saw you walking into our garden," Pepe'n continued, "I don't know, a strange jolt went through me. You have an incredible powerful energy around you. I was just overwhelmed by your enigmatic presence and believe me; I'm not easily impressed. But my grandmother was a shaman so I'm sensitive to those energies."

"I saw something similar around you," I interrupted.

 "Are you a shaman or are you still studying?"

"During ceremonies I feel that I am. Right now I would say that I'm still a very young student who needs to learn a lot. But I've felt this energy for a long time."

"This energy of yours is unbelievably powerful. Do you know who is the animal guide of your spirit?" he asked.

"No, I don't think I do," I answered.

"It is important that you do. With your guide, like the jaguar, the puma or the eagle, you can travel through the pink gate and communicate with your own kind. It is possible that you have more than one animal guiding you. Tomorrow we should visit a shaman in one of the villages. What do you think?" he asked, but before I could say a word he continued, "You have a lot of work to do for human kind. You remind me of Trudy Blom."

"You have no idea what it means to me to hear some recognition," I answered.

He looked at me through his dark glasses and smiled. "Trudy was like a mother to me," he continued dreamily, "She was so kind and patient, but strong-willed and wonderfully eccentric."

"I love women who are unconventional."

"Paula, how peculiar that we met, because I rarely give these tours here in the museum. I dedicate myself more to trips to the villages or an occasional project for National Geographic or Discovery Channel."

After a delicious dinner with a few biologists who had just returned from a research field trip in the 'Montes Azules' biosphere, as well as an odd backpacker, Pepe'n invited me to his house. He had a rustic, clean and even spacious one-bedroom apartment with a few indigenous decorations placed on cobalt blue walls. We watched a video about the Lacandon Indians and one about the Zapatista revolution of 1994. Pepe'n informed me that the situation of the indigenous people had largely improved thanks to the enormous international media coverage. We listened to the music of Jorge Reyes and to some of Pepe'n's own compositions on his guitar.

"I feel a strong connection with you Paula, a kinship," he said and then he started to giggle "But I feel more than that."

I smiled back at him.

"You are so beautiful. I see all these blue sparkles around you, really high too." He started to giggle again.

It was endearing to see a normally confident and self-assured man turn into a shy and giggling boy. I smiled. I felt so much respect from him. This situation would never become uncomfortable, I thought.

"Pepe'n, thank you so much for an inspiring afternoon and a beautiful evening. You are like a gift from the Universe. I truly enjoyed spending time with you and I'm looking forward to our trip tomorrow. But I'm starting to get a little tired. I'm just not used to this altitude yet, I think. I need to lie down. What time shall we meet tomorrow?" I asked while I picked up my little backpack.

"If you could be at the entrance of the museum at eight o'clock, that would be nice," he answered politely.

"I will be there on time. Thank you again for a wonderful afternoon and evening."

We gave each other a hug, which I always experienced as a little odd with a man barely my own height. He kissed my cheek and through the dark glasses I saw that his left eye was the size of a golf ball. Marty Feldman would be proud of him.

That night I had an intense dream of rivaling tribes continuing to attack each other. It took a lot out of me, but finally I was able to create peace between the tribes.

**CHAPTER 10.**

**A COMPATABLE BUTTERFLY**

The following morning a white van took Pepe'n and myself to the small indigenous villages of Zinacantan, then on to San Nicolas and finally Chamula. The last village had an interesting church. Colorful painted butterflies covered the turquoise colored stucco entrance bow that stretched out above the tall weathered wooden entrance doors. Inside I found a floor covered with straw and everywhere I looked, I saw hundreds of little colored candles burning on that same floor. The statues of the various Saints were neatly placed in wooden cabinets like custom made closets with a glass door and those cabinets were all placed against the walls around the church. Everywhere people were praying or sleeping, singing or talking, laughing or crying. It was beautiful to observe.

After the church visit Pepe'n took me to the home of Salvador, a well-known and respected 'curandero' in Chamula. He was quite a bit smaller than I, but he had a strong handshake, good energy and sincere eyes. He invited me into his practice room where the soothing smell of 'copal', an energetically cleaning resin, welcomed me inside. The walls were colorfully painted in reddish and pinkish hues and one corner of the space was dedicated to endless stacks of crates filled with glass Coca Cola bottles. They believe that burping can expel negative energies. Needless to say that tooth decay had been staggering since the introduction of this innocent burp technique.

I was asked to sit on a little stool in front of his altar on top of which several clay items where placed, including two bulls together with a few other artifacts I couldn't recognize. This ceremony was dedicated to discovering which animal spirit was accompanying me on my spiritual travels and for the protection of my spiritual work.

Salvador held many small candles of various colors in one hand and a fewer number of big candles in the other hand. With the big ones he stroked my head, my face and down my arms to my palms, while saying his prayers and pronouncing my name multiple times. One by one he placed the big candles on the ground in front of the altar.  The orange ones were for good luck and prosperity, a green and red one for protection of my spirit and eight white candles for the protection of my spiritual work.

Then he repeated the procedure with the twenty-four small candles, which he placed in front of the large ones. There were six red candles, six white ones, six yellow ones and six cobalt blue ones. I was told that these little candles were used to clean the physical body and to expel any negative energy that may be present.

He continued with his prayers and then asked me to light the candles. I did, one by one. When I finished lighting all the candles Salvador added more copal to the bowl filled with glowing coals and he covered me in a thick layer of smoke. Then he placed the bowl in front of me on the floor and instructed me to receive the smoke with the palms of my hands.

He stroked my head and my arms with an eagle feather and then placed it on a little table to the left of the altar. Then he took my left wrist in his hand and felt my pulse for some time while he said more prayers, after which he repeated the act with my right wrist. He then proceeded to the altar where he picked three roses from a vase that was mostly filled with lilies. He picked a white, a pink and a red one; brushed them over my head and my face and then placed the roses on the floor behind the bowl of copal.

He took a bottle of 'posh', a liquor made of sugarcane, poured some of the alcohol in a gourd and then poured it back into the bottle.

He then picked up a large bunch of fresh herbs unknown to me and dipped them in a glass of water that was standing on the altar between the two bulls. He let the water drip on my head and then hit the herbs on my back. Then he placed the herbs on the floor together with the roses and put the bowl of copal back on the little table, where he picked up a little gourd filled with water. He placed the gourd on top of my head and started to blow over the gourd, which created a soft whistle. He repeated blowing over the gourd after placing the it first on the left palm of my hand and then on the right. He then asked me to put my right palm over my left palm and repeated the whistle procedure.

He ended the ceremony by blowing on several places of my body and by that time all the little candles were burned to the ground.

"Your health is excellent. Your spiritual work is protected. And your animal spirit is a very powerful one," Salvador told me. "It is the 'aguila blanca', the white eagle. And to make contact with your animal spirit you should drink some of the 'posh' I used during the ceremony."

He started to pour a little bit of the liquor into a large glass.

"How much?" he asked me.

"As much as is necessary to contact my white eagle," I answered.

He then filled the glass to the rim and handed it to me. It appeared that my eagle was not adverse to a stiff drink. Well, neither was I, so we would make a good team.

"Salvador, which animal spirit accompanies you?" I asked.

"I have the eagle, like you, but a black one, and also the tiger and the coyote. But your white eagle will give you sufficient protection in your spiritual work."

That evening I had a light dinner with Pepe'n in a little local restaurant where we tried the 'Sopa de Lima', a traditional Mayan soup with chicken, lime and shreds of corn tortilla.

"Pepe'n, could you tell me some more about the Lacandones? Why were Trudy and her husband so fascinated with these people?"

"I think because they were able to avoid contact with the outside world until the 1950s and have preserved so well their old traditions. They arrived at the 'Selva Lacandona' sometime during the 18th century, fleeing the Spanish in the Yucatan. Their language is related to Yucatecan Maya. They call themselves 'Hach Winik', the True People. They stayed in the Lacandon Jungle in small, scattered groups until most of them moved to a small village near Bonampak in 1979 when that area was declared the Montes Azules Biosphere Reserve. Together with the Chol and the Tzeltal people, my tribe, they jointly administer an area of over 6,000 sq kilometers called the 'Comunidad Lacandona'."

"And what is so special about the Lacandon Jungle?"

"Understand that Mexico harbors ten percent of the earth's living species."

"Wow! That much?"

'Yes. And that ten percent is located on a little over one percent of earth's land."

"I heard before that Mexico has an incredible rich variety of flora and fauna."

'It gets even better. Now the Lacandon Jungle occupies only one quarter of a percent of Mexico."

"Percentage wise that's a small area indeed."

"Yet, this jungle has more than 4,300 plant species, close to a fifth of the Mexican total. It has at least 350 different kinds of birds, close to a third of the Mexican total and the same percentage of mammals. Among these are the symbolic creatures like the jaguar the ocelot and the tapir. And let's not forget the largest bird of prey in the Americas, the harpy eagle."

"Amazing!"

"There's only one sad thing about this jungle."

"What is that?"

"There's almost nothing left."

"What do you mean?"

"Three quarters of the original jungle has vanished and has been turned into corn or cattle fields. I believe there is no more than 3,000 square kilometers left."

"That is sad."

"Yes it is and it continues to be cut down by land-hungry settlers. I wonder what it will look like in ten years," Pepe'n said with a serious tone in his voice.

"I don't even want to think about what all this senseless greed can do to Mother Earth," I added.

"Paula, on a completely different subject, when are you traveling back to Playa del Carmen?"

"I bought my bus ticket this afternoon. I'm leaving the day after tomorrow."

"Then would you like to have dinner at 'Na Bolom' on your last evening?"

"But of course! That would be a nice way to spent my last evening in San Cristobal."

"And..." He started to giggle again. "Would you consider...? You know, I love you Paula and... will you sleep with me tonight?"

"Pepe'n, my sweet little Pepe'n. I don't think that my eagle and your butterfly are compatible. I will see you tomorrow at 'Na Bolom', alright?"

I felt his disappointment and maybe even a little embarrassment over my rejection.

"Yes, we'll see each other tomorrow then."

When I arrived at the dining room, Pepe'n was distant and didn't hug and kiss me like he had done before. Soon after dinner he left with a short goodbye and that was that. I felt a little sad that a perfectly enthralling time with Pepe'n had to end so abruptly. Nevertheless, I realized that this was his emotional drama, not mine, and so I focused on fully enjoying my last evening in San Cristobal.

**CHAPTER 11.**

**A SEXY ANGEL**

I picked up my clean laundry from a little 'lavanderia' called 'Valentino' and then returned to the communal kitchen in my guesthouse where I sat at a table to write in my notebook. Ever since my visit to Palenque there had not been a day that my encounter with Jayms wasn't part of my thoughts. One of the brothers of Jesus was called Jayms. I liked that little detail. The only clue he had about my whereabouts was that I lived in Playa del Carmen. That was all. How were we ever going to meet again?  Would he miraculously appear in front of my eyes, looking for me? If that happened I imagined a little earthquake would take place around my heart space.

And sometimes I thought about Marco, a young Mexican of Aztec descent, who I had met in Playa only days before my departure to Palenque. We had started to talk to each other in 'Lima', a new lounge restaurant in Playa, which featured excellent music and a hip crowd. We had talked a lot about sacred plants, we flirted and we had kissed a little bit. Actually, the kissing had been exceptionally sexy and arousing. His tongue was pierced and never before had I felt a hard little piece of metal touching my lips nor had I heard the sound of this piece of jewelry touching my teeth. The sensation had made me horny.

I thought about my vow, about my menstrual blood that had started to flow again in Palenque and about what I had read in the book of the Pleiadians. Their message about pregnancy was straightforward. We are the masters of our own body and we decide what happens to our body. Mind over matter. As simple as that.

After I had written a few pages in my notebook a group of travelers walked into the kitchen. Most of them I had met before during breakfast, but there was a young guy I had not seen before, probably in his early twenties. I was looking at a breathtaking, almost angelic like face surrounded by long, blond curls. For too long I stared hungrily at his sensual, rose red lips. Soon I detected an adventurous twinkle in his blue eyes into which I was looking intently and he returned my flirtatious stare with an audacious smile.

They had brought some beers and we all shared a few interesting travelers' stories and some good laughs. When finally, close to midnight, the remainder of the travelers had left the kitchen the blond angel and I had the opportunity to be alone together. We left the table and went to sit next to each other on the wooden bench, our feet lightly touching.

"So Matthew, this is your last night as well I understand?" I started.

"Yes, that's right. In a couple of hours my bus leaves," he answered.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to live with a Zapatista community for one month. And where are you going Paula?"

"I'm going back home. Playa del Carmen."

He sighed. "Ah how beautiful, the Caribbean."

"But why are you going to live at a Zapatista community for a month?"

"Because I want to have that experience."

"Then tell me Matthew, what is so special about the Zapatistas?"

"They are special because they are true to their people and they show a courageousness you rarely see these days. The Mexican Revolution of 1920 might have had little impact on these indigenous peasants, but they sure made a stand in 1994."

"What happened in that year?" I asked, intrigued to hear the famous Zapatista story.

"A small group of corrupt and wealthy Mexicans kept a centuries-old powerful hold on this state and its land and resources. They didn't give a shit about the indigenous peasants who had cared for that land generation after generation. Dispossessed and impoverished by greed, lacking in education and health care, as well as simple fundamental civil rights, they had no other choice than to revolt."

"How did they do that?"

"On the first day of January 1994, so less than six years ago, they sacked the bastards and occupied governments offices not only in San Cristobal, but also in Ocosingo, Las Margaritas and Altamirano."

"And who are they?"

"The Zapatista National Liberation Army, an armed left-wing peasant group. Their leader is called Subcomandante Marcos, a cult figure far and wide."

"Yes, I remember. I have seen little children trying to sell me those little masked dolls."

"That's him! The positive outcome of this daring revolution was that it captured the world's attention."

"How did that happen? They were so few?"

"Because the Mexican government had the brilliant idea to send in the Mexican army, I mean big time, and simply gun down the revolt; men, women, children, all of them. Of course most of the Zapatistas had retreated back into the jungles, but the damage was done and justice was just around the corner."

"So what changed after that?"

"Well, first the peasants took over hundreds of farms and ranches. Eventually the government bought some of these properties from their previous owners and handed them over to the peasants. And secondly the government and the Zapatista Army reached an agreement, allowing the Mexican indigenous people a degree of autonomy."

"That sounds like an improvement."

"The dilemma was that the Mexican government never intended to turn this agreement into law and that's when the problems started again."

"How so?"

"Because the ruling Mexican government formed paramilitary organizations to drive Zapatista supporters from their villages and to oppose the autonomous municipalities they had started. Finally the tensions and killings escalated and there was a massacre at a village called Acteal."

"A massacre?"

"Yes, a real massacre. Around fifty people, mostly women and children, from a Catholic pacifist group sympathetic to the Zapatistas were gunned down by these paramilitaries. After that around 20,000 people fled their homes for refugee camps. That was in 1997."

'My God, I can't believe this. The Mexican government simply murdered women and children, because they are indigenous and supported their own people?"

"That's what governments are good at, especially when oil is involved."

"What do you mean?"

"Large quantities of oil exist in several areas in Chiapas."

"That explains a lot. Those damned governments coveting their oil money, polluting our planet, when all this extra terrestrial free technology is being kept from us."

Matthew hesitated. "I don't know about that extra terrestrial stuff."

"I understand. You will in due time. But how is the situation now for the Zapatistas?"

"Many of them are still living in refugee camps, but they are working towards negotiations with the government. This year Mexico has elected a new president and there is a new governor for the state of Chiapas, so now there are hopes that the original accords will be turned into law."

"Let's hope this will turn out well for the indigenous people."

"Yes, let's hope it will. But what about you?"

"Yes, what about me?" I asked with a flirty grin.

"Well, let me see. What is the most fascinating thing you have done since you moved to Mexico?"

I started to laugh. "Matthew, have you ever taken mushrooms?"

"I sure have. Actually that was in Palenque now that I think of it."

"And how was that experience?"

"Life changing!"

"Then I have an interesting story for you that changed my life."

I told Matthew about the messages from the Pleiadians and my experience in Palenque when the Light Beings spoke to me during my ceremony with the sacred mushrooms. This was the first time I told somebody about this specific experience and I had no idea how he would react. He looked at me for a long time without saying a word, but I detected recognition in his eyes. He smiled playfully.

"So Paula, what's next?"

"What's next?" I answered with an enticing smile. "That you have an angel-like face with incredible blue eyes and a delicious looking mouth."

"Nobody ever said that to me. And actually I have green eyes."

"You do? Let me see," I said while I moved closer to his face to look into his eyes. I saw his long silky blond eyelashes while he looked at me and he sighed. Then he suddenly backed away a little.

"Matthew, what happened?"

"You have such strong energy."

"I guess you are reacting to the energy, the sensations and emotions that I'm feeling right now."

"Maybe. You do have a very powerful spirit, you know."

"Yes, I know."

"May I touch you?" he suddenly asked.

"Please do," I answered.

He placed one hand on my left shoulder and started to massage my muscles. I fully enjoyed his beautifully shaped hands moving over my skin. Then I took his other hand and interlaced my fingers between his. Very slowly we started to move towards each other. I felt the soft downy hair from his rosy cheeks. He smelled beautifully young, fresh and sweet. I placed soft little kisses on his face, then his neck and shoulders, adding teasing little bites. I heard a subtle quickening of his breath and I searched for the rose red lips that I had been hungering forever since he had entered the kitchen. The moment our lips touched and our tongues started their sensual dance I felt an explosion of passion and excitement that completely ignited my dormant sexual energy.

Soon we moved to the luxury of my private room with its big bed. He might have looked very innocent and sweet, like a real blond angel, but he made love with the same passion and sexiness as I did and finally we both climaxed together, a long and intense experience.

I felt completely satisfied, content and grateful for this perfect little present that was sent to me on my path.

"Thank you Paula. Thank you. Thank you for this sharing, thank you for everything you shared with me tonight."

"Thank you too Matthew."

He closed the door behind him, on his way to an adventure in Zapatista land that I would never hear about. I fell asleep with a smile on my face thinking of the new upcoming adventures I would experience upon my return to Playa del Carmen.

**CHAPTER 12.**

**MY AZTEC CUTIE**

Early in the morning, after a journey of sixteen hours, the bus arrived in Playa and a little after seven I walked into the restaurant of 'Da Gabi' where I ran into John, the owner who had so generously offered me a room in his hotel to help me get started. I had completely forgotten about him and his presence took me a little by surprise. He looked like shit, as if he had missed a good nights sleep. He started ranting and raving about everything and everybody for at least an hour, looking like an unpredictable and aggressive tyrant with ostensibly peaceful moments. He sure reminded me of my father.

It turned out to be war between John and Lavonna. Allegedly Lavonna's teenage son Kyle had threatened John with a stone. Allegedly John had tried to strangle him. To me it sounded like an all too familiar story. John's daughter Tina had just moved back home with him only a day before.  He had hired a young Belgian girl, who looked like she had just walked away from a Vogue cover, to take care of the tutoring of Tina and the hosting for the restaurant, jobs that both had been offered to me before I had started my trip.

Calmly I listened to my talkative friend, allowing the angry boy to tell his story without interruptions. From experience I knew that was the best strategy and finally he calmed down. Rick, the maintenance man for John's property, came walking into the restaurant towards our table. This man, somewhere in his fifties, looked like he had just walked out of a Grateful Dead concert. As high as a kite, but with a completely relaxed energy, he started his narrative on some plumbing problems.

"John, I think it better if you have a look for yourself. You are right, the 'pinchancha' of the 'tenaco' needs to be replaced, but we also have a problem in the 'cisterna'. It's the damn 'Ficus Tree'. The roots grow through cement walls as fast as a snake's tongue."

"Take it out then," John answered.

"It's a big tree John," Rick replied. "You may lose a lot of shade."

"You're right. Let's have a look. Why don't you come along Paula, have a look at the house?"

"Sure."

I was surprised to find a spaciously and tastefully decorated interior. John offered me something to smoke and I gladly accepted, despite the early hour. Soon we were enrolled in a lively conversation and he turned out to be a very intelligent and spiritual man with his heart in the right place, but a little eccentric and volatile at times. I had life long training to be around a person like this, so I thought we would get along just fine.

"John, I think I'm going to pick up my stuff and get settled."

"Sure go ahead, you gypsy queen who cannot be controlled."

I laughed and started walking towards the door and before opening it I turned around. "Do I need to be?"

After installing myself in my temporary new room, I paid a visit to Tom and Joanne, who welcomed me like a long lost friend.

"Paula! Good to have you back," Tom welcomed me with a big hug.

"It's good to be back Tom. How are you Joanne?" I asked.

"Actually, pretty wonderful. I had a nice long beach walk this morning and then Tom and I did some yoga on the rooftop with Fernanda, a wonderful yoga teacher. How was your trip?"

"Amazing! I finished the book from the Pleiades and right after that I did a mushroom ceremony."

"That must have been a very mystical experience."

"Oh, you have no idea," I said passionately and continued with a detailed report about my journey.

"When the knowledge is there," Tom continued, "and you have made that wisdom a part of your essence, your being, then the process of transformation has started and there is no way of turning back. Then you live in the light."

"Consciously aware that we create everything around us," I filled in.

"And from what I just heard you have met some very interesting people during your trip," Joanne added.

"I will tell you much more about them later, but guess who I just met?"

"Well...?" Tom asked with a curious boyish grin.

"John!"

"And what was your impression?" Joanne asked with a genuine interest.

"Just like my father, intelligent, self centered and difficult, but a good heart. The only thing is that at any given moment he can snap and turn into a dangerous monster. He sometimes twists reality and then conveniently starts to believe that to be the truth. How curious that such a man would turn out to be such an important part of the beginning of my life in Playa. I mean, he has so generously offered me a room in his hotel to get started. Just like that."

"Just be careful that he doesn't get physical," Tom warned.

"That, my dear Tom, that will never happen. Ever. Period." I answered with an easy determination in my voice.

I thought about the last time my father considered to be physical with me. Less then six months earlier, I had been working at the 'Bengel', a little Dutch restaurant owned by a gay couple, to earn the last bucks I needed to finance my new Mexican dream. For many years I had worked at this tasty eatery, which had a unique outdoor summer terrace romantically located along a canal. I had worked there while it was being renovated, as a cook and mostly I had waited on tables. Whether it was during my studies or in between my travels, I always enjoyed working there and the guys had become close friends, aware of the complicated relationship I had with my father.

One summer evening, early in the week, I was standing outside overlooking the few tables that were occupied by guests when my father walked by with his dog, obviously just returning from a walk in the 'Haagsche Bosch'. Since the last disgusting violent incident with my sister, only a year before, I was not on speaking terms with him. Still, I looked him in the eyes and greeted him. He hesitated, surprised by my neutral friendliness, then stopped and said hello. I invited him for a cappuccino and the owners nodded in a friendly manner, indicating that I could take a quiet table so I could talk with him.

For a while we talked about neutral subjects. We talked about my journey to Brazil and my frequent visits to the Brazilian 'Santo Daime' church. We talked about my journey to India and my newfound passion for yoga.

"Eppo, it was your books that got me interested in these subjects," I said. I had stopped calling him 'dad' a long time ago.

"And this tea you drink, is it dangerous?"

"No, it's not dangerous. If you inform yourself well. Are you on any anti-depressant medication?"

"Absolutely not!"

"Thank God."

"But tell me, what does it feel like?"

"It can feel like heaven, like making love to the Universe and it can feel like hell, like you are actually dying. It is the ego that needs to be conquered by love. If you would ever go to the church and take this medicine," I seriously looked him in his eyes, "that would be the most courageous thing you could ever do in your life."

"Really?" he asked almost like a little boy.

"They told me you called them for information."

"They did?"

"Of course. They are like family. And they are aware of the delicate character of our relationship."

"I see," he answered.

By this time I had brought him three cappuccinos and I asked him if he would care for a glass of wine.

"I didn't drink for a year, but I guess a glass of red wine would be nice."

"And we don't get a chance to talk that often."

"So, tell me about your plans for Mexico."

"Mary and I are thinking of setting up a school or educational center, maybe an ecological and spiritual center so that I can combine my different area of studies. I don't know. I'll leave it up to the Universe to do its work. The other day I read somewhere that you should consider the Universe as a restaurant. You order something in your life, but you don't go into the kitchen to see how it is being prepared. So, I ordered a life in Mexico and I'll look forward to whatever appetizers God throws my way."

"That's a gutsy move."

"It's from you that I inherited that sense of adventure, you know."

We talked some more about India and his trip to the United States and then moved inside when the last guests had left their tables. With the third glass of wine I touched the subject of my sister, whom he had monstrously attacked in front of her six-year-old daughter. Not used to such generous amounts of wine his reaction was emotional and childish, as he denied the seriousness of his acts and the emotional consequences for his grand daughter and my sister. And of course, by now he had turned the cards around and accused my sister of verbally attacking him in such a way that he had no other choice.

"You should hear yourself talking. It's pathetic."

"Watch your words lady."

"Or what! You're going to hit me? Look at those arms, what's left of them. Really, give me a fucking break," I said to him without a hint of fear. He knew he would end up in that canal if he ever again raised a finger against me, or at least I would die trying. "Listen, I need to help the guys to clean up so I think this is a good time for you to leave, don't you think?"

"I don't think so at all," he responded like stubborn little boy who didn't get his way. I saw that one of the guys was heading for the kitchen to get the baseball bat.

"The one thing that is going to happen now is that you are going home. You are going home right now," I said with a strong voice.

I started to breath deeply and pull my energy up, like my Indian guru had taught me and formed a big ball of light in front of me, with which I started pushing my father towards the door.

"You are going home," I repeated.

"No, I'm not," he protested, clearly a little drunk.

I continued to breath and push this energy in front of me.

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not!"

He wasn't moving. I couldn't fail. Not this time.

"You are going home." My breath became stronger, my focus intensified and my energy formed this powerful ball of light. With my whole being I willed him out of the restaurant, without laying a finger on him. Finally he began to move. I continued to speak out the same words, like a mantra, with the same strong breath and at last he was outside.

"Go home and sleep. You're drunk."

"You're mean."

"Go home. Dad."

As I walked down Fifth Avenue I felt that same strong ball of energy around my heart, which formed a bubble of light around me, creating a surrealistic atmosphere as if I was in a movie and nobody could see me. I was on my way to pick up my Aztec cutie from his work and I realized I was really looking forward to see Pablo. He was equally happy to see me.

"You look good," he said after I had received a long hug. "You have changed. There is something different about your energy. It's more powerful and there is a calmness about you."

"Really, you can see that?"

"My grandmother could and I sometimes can."

"Pablo, I can't wait to tell you what happened in Palenque."

"Tell me about your adventures while we walk to my apartment. It's in the 'Ejido' so we'll have plenty of time."

When we arrived at his apartment he took a shower and soon we continued where we he had left off the last time we saw each other. Immediately his pierced tong aroused me again and a flood of sexual energy surged through my body. He was horny. I was horny. The rest was simply delicious.

**CHAPTER 13.**

**KEEP YOUR CLOTHES ON**

The next morning when I returned from a long beach walk, I found a little note that had been tucked under my door. It was from John. If I would be so kind as to leave the room by the 15th, which was in ten days time, and that Lavonna was looking for a roommate. The last sentence particularly indicated what I was dealing with.

John appeared even more unpredictable than my father, because the previous evening when I had returned after hours of passionate love making with my sexy Aztec, he suddenly informed me that he had decided to offer me the teaching and hosting positions after all.

"What made you change your mind?" I asked calmly.

"The girl is not suitable," he answered dryly.

"Why not John?"

"She poured out her whole life, all her miseries, all her misfortunes, all her heartaches. You have no idea!"

"Oh, you poor man," I said with a little irony in my voice. "She saw you as the perfect father figure."

"What on Earth did I do?" he said with a kind of desperation, as if he wanted nothing to do with these kinds of emotions.

"You were there. John, you we're simply at the right place at the right time and you were part of her healing process. You see, the Universe works in mysterious ways."

"I would agree."

"And what made you think she was right for the job?"

"Good question. I guess I just grabbed the first person who came along."

"Nobody just comes along John."

He looked at me for a while with a hint of a smile on his lips. "Are you gonna stay up there, or are you ever coming back down to Earth?"

"John, I'm afraid this is a permanent situation."

"I thought so."

Despite the disheartening news I remained completely calm. At that moment I was able to distance myself from any discouraging emotions, and my strong belief that everything would turn out all right resurfaced. My faith in a beautiful future was as powerful as ever.

I decided to go to the beach and let the sun and the sea do their work. Nature had often helped me clear my thoughts. The warm rays of the sun permeated my skin, allowing me to let this information sink in. I knew that the most helpful tool in a challenging situation was to see it as a valuable opportunity to learn something I needed to at that moment in order to evolve emotionally and spiritually.

After the beach I took a shower, paying attention to the choice of my outfit, because I was going to pick up Pablo from his work. I was confident he had some answers or could point me in the right direction for solutions to my dilemma. He wasn't there and he didn't pick up his cell phone.

His unexpected absence triggered a flood of emotions. I realized that this was part of the plan as well, and I allowed myself to feel the sadness and loneliness, with the latter being the strongest. The tears started to flow.  I felt like an abandoned little girl, alone and lonely, and the tears kept flowing. I felt the intense sadness of little children and young girls, the ones that were mistreated, humiliated, traumatized and abandoned. An inexplicable connection I had with these mistreated children and young women.

I desperately longed for a strong shoulder to lean on, so I could share my tears. But here I was again, all by myself, sad and alone. From experience I knew I would get there, but for now I was going through a period in my life that was full of uncertainty. Yet again, this was a time filled with important and valuable lessons. I had to come to a point where I found myself without a home and a job, and money running very short. I cried until there were no more tears left.

I decided to go to my favorite coffee place and treat myself to a strong cappuccino and a big piece of chocolate cake. I sat down at my preferred corner table and before I could turn around to signal for a waiter, there was an arm around my shoulder. I looked up into his smoldering eyes.

"Santiago," I called out enthusiastically.

"My princess, always torturing me with your absence from my castle."

"Sweetheart, you have no idea how happy I am to see you."

I had met Santiago two years prior during a short vacation to Venezuela where I was recovering from a exhausting relationship and preparing for a corporate job I had just been contracted for. The Venezuelan women are famous for their beauty, but the men aren't that bad either. He was breathtakingly gorgeous with a dark ebony skin and a beautiful smile, masculine and sexy, playful and spiritual all at the same time, and we had spent a beautiful week together as vacation lovers. Miraculously we had run into each other the third day after I arrived in Playa. He was actually living here, working as a massage therapist, and I had to admit that he had magical hands and was an exceptionally talented massage therapist. The only problem was that he could not get his mind around the fact that I did not want to have sex with him anymore. In his world that was something unimaginable. If you liked each other, had good sex before, why in the world would you not do it again? My vow was something impossible for him to understand and although we spent quite a bit of time together, there was always a little tension because of his strong sexual energy and his continuous desire for me.

"Really?" he answered hopefully. "It's good to see you too. It's been too long 'preciosa'. How have you been? You look a little sad."

I explained what had happened since my return from Chiapas and that I was urgently looking for a new place to live

"You can live in my studio," Santiago offered.

"That's not really what I had in mind honey."

"No seriously, I'm leaving Playa. I'm going to try my luck in Italy as a model. Well, maybe my studio is a little hot, because the windows are on the south side. But a few days ago one came available just across from the hallway and that one is much cooler."

"And how much are you paying?"

"Only two hundred dollars."

"That's cheap for Playa standards and the location is good. It was Calle 34, right?"

"Yes, with Avenida 30."

"When could I see it?" I asked Santiago.

"The owners live on the ground level and they are usually around in the late afternoon and the early evening. You want to go have a look right now?"

"Sure, why not?"

"And then I will give you a massage to relax you from your worries."

I looked at him and he gave me his irresistible smile.

"I know, I know," he said with a grin, "Just keep your clothes on, so I don't feel tempted to seduce you."

I knew I wouldn't keep my clothes on this time.

**CHAPTER 14.**

**A NAKED JUNGLE GIRL**

I didn't know if the exchange of sexual energies with my fellow light workers was responsible, but with a newly found gumption I decided to use all my remaining resources to find employment with a working permit. After all, I had an engineer's degree and the ability to speak six languages, so I should be able to find myself a decent position.

When I returned from my visit to Santiago's studio that included more passionate morning sex, I ran into Tom and I received the full body hug, which I returned with the same enthusiasm.

"God Paula, you give the best hugs," he started with his boyish grin. It seemed impossible for him not to detect the sexual juices that weren't yet washed from my skin.

"So Tom, what's happening on this glorious early morning in paradise?"

"What's happening, young Paula, is that we're heading out to the jungle in a few hours and you are welcome to join us for the grand tour."

"Wow! That would be absolutely wonderful."

"Make sure you bring a swim suit, because we'll be swimming in some refreshing 'cenotes'," he added.

"God, I love this paradise! So, I'll be at your place in an hour or so?"

"Make that two," he answered. "Joanne is sleeping in."

"Perfect. I need some time to take a shower," I said with a distinct twinkle in my eyes and then I turned around and continued to walk to my room with a heavenly smile that even another unpleasant letter from John could not remove from my face.

Together with Colette, Marissa and Craig, some of Tom's clients who were interested in a tour in 'Pueblo SacBe', we did our best to fit in Tom's suburban. It took us no more than ten minutes North on the highway, or the 'Carretera Federal' as we say in Mexico, to reach the meandering dirt road that led us inward into the Yucatan jungle, and then another ten minutes to reach the point where our tour would start.

"Pueblo SacBe has an area of close to ninety hectares," Tom started, "of which about fifty hectares is owned by 'SacBe Condos'. Our lot sizes range from five hundred to fifteen thousand square meters. We offer lots for private residential use, we offer commercial lots, and we also have larger tracts that are meant for cluster housing for those who prefer to live closer to their neighbors but still wish to enjoy the surroundings of large green areas."

"How much do those lots sell for?" Marissa asked.

"At this moment they are still selling for only fifty dollars a square meter, compared to a thousand dollars a square meter beach front. But that offer won't last long, because, and this is really good news," Tom said and paused for a second to add some drama to his story, "we have recently discovered that Pueblo SacBe is located within the city limits of Playa del Carmen."

"Why is that such good news?" Colette asked.

"Because any property within the city limits is worth much more money. So this means that within a few years your property will surely have doubled in price and likely even more than that. Ted, the owner, wants to raise the price to seventy-five dollars a square meter very soon and when the condo regimen is in place and the individual titles are in place this price will increase significantly. But Craig, girls, these are just numbers. What we are really here for is to see the beauty of this project and understand it's unique value."

"And what makes SacBe so unique Tom?" I asked.

"My dear Paula, where do you find a conscious community growing between the Caribbean Sea and the pristine jungles of Mother Earth? Here you can find the best of both worlds. We in Pueblo SacBe have a collective dream and that dream is to live in harmony with nature and with each other. That's what it comes down to. It's as simple as that. We want to become one hundred percent sustainable and self-supporting.  To attain that goal we are using the knowledge of the people already living here. We have Bill, our engineer, who supplies our solar panels and Internet connections. We have Michael, our award winning eco-city planner. And we have Hare, our expert on perma culture, just to name a few. And of course we have Paula, our environmental engineer, who just moved here. She is the perfect example of the like-minded people we are looking for to share this tapestry of dreams with."

I felt touched.

We arrived at a piece of land that belonged to Tom and Joanne, which they intended to turn in to an alternative health center. We followed the path down to the 'cenote' and Tom pointed out what arrangements his Mayan gardener Queterio of seventy plus years had worked on over the past year. It was very impressive and I could envision what it could become, a place with tranquil places for meditation surrounded by mystical nature. Despite the enthusiastic and professional stories of Tom, I could see it still needed a substantial amount of work.

We continued our tour to the central park called 'Tohoku'. At the entrance of the park, a reception and an information center were to be built, but for now only a bare wooden construction with a palapa roof was hosting some hammocks belonging to Mayan workers or a lone backpacker. The park, with a large open 'cenote', was intended as a communal park and many paths had already been landscaped, lined with different kinds of palms and flowering 'bromelias', winding down towards the swimming area. I could look into the open cave as far as fifty meters and many bats were swirling over the water.

"Don't worry, this is not the place where we will take a swim," Tom informed us with such a reassuring smile that the two women immediately lost their worried look. "We still need to clean the bottom here from all the bat shit, which is an excellent fertilizer by the way. And eventually there will be a direct connection to the 'cenote' behind, which we will reach from the other side in a minute."

"Tom," Craig interrupted, "could you explain to me a little about this 'cenote' story. I'm a city boy and know next to nothing about nature."

"I certainly will Craig," Tom continued. "You won't find any rivers or lakes in the Yucatan peninsula. Do you have any idea why?"

"Enlighten us Tom," Craig said.

"It's because the earth crust of this peninsula is made of limestone, a kind of porous stone that easily filters the rain water through, which has created an immense sub structural area of rivers and lakes with crystal clear sweet water. Whenever this water appears on the surface, we call that a 'cenote'."

"Like this one here," I added.

"Exactly, but there are actually four different types of 'cenotes'. There are those that are at land level like a pond, exactly like this one, or even look like a lake, as we will see at the very end of our tour. Then we have the open wells, like a fresh water sink hole, one we will visit in a little bit and is called the 'Cathedral' for it's magical formations of stalactites and stalagmites. Then we have the ones that are completely underground and are being explored by cave divers and then we have the dry cave systems, where no water is present. Because the water is always found eight meters below the surface, each lot in Pueblo SacBe has it's own well for household water and landscaping. Nevertheless, the limestone surface does not provide sufficient percolation to effectively process our wastewater. This means that we need to protect this environment from contamination. For this reason Ted has created a construction that we call..." I heard a little chuckle escape from Tom's mouth. "We call this the 'The shit to flower Factory'! Please, follow me and I will show you how this system works."

I thought it was a very original name for this system I had read about ago many years ago during research on one of my environmental projects. We followed Tom through the park to an area higher up where a cement construction was built with several reservoirs at descending heights.

"Here, the black and gray water travels through chambers where certain bacteria consume the pathogens. After this process the residual water travels through an enclosed garden where we grow large leafed plants like bananas or elephant ears. They consume the remaining toxins and purify the water that eventually returns to the land. Now, how beautiful is that?" Tom ended with a proud smile.

"I imagine all the houses will be connected to this system?" I asked.

"Or they will have their own system," Tom answered.

"Ingenious," Marissa remarked.

"But let us continue to the house that Joanne and I are creating for ourselves," Tom said.

After walking along a few paths exposing more magical variations of 'cenotes' we arrived at a beautiful round wooden structure that resembled an enormous tree house. One by one we climbed up the wooden stairs and found ourselves on the first level of the tree house that offered us a beautiful view of the surrounding flora as well as an exotic variety of birds and butterflies. Tom invited me to take a little rest in one of the hammocks and offered me a smoke. While he entertained the rest of our group with appealing stories about the future of the tree house and the adjoining structures, I simply enjoyed a little relaxation time in the hammock.

"Come along now," Tom continued, "it's time to take a refreshing dip in the 'Cathedral'.  The water has healing qualities and I can assure you that you will feel beyond refreshed even after a short swim. Believe me, there's an inexplicable feeling of well-being after being in this therapeutic water."

We arrived at the sink hole and were instructed to climb down a ladder made of rope into what first seemed like a dark opening in the earth crust that barely allowed one person at the time to fit through.

"My friends," Tom started with a more serious tone in his voice, "before we enter this 'cenote' I would like to share with you the following. The word 'cenote' is derived from the Mayan word 'ts'onot', meaning 'well'. To the Mayans the 'cenotes' played two important roles. First of all they provided an abundant supply of fresh water. Second the Mayans believed that these areas, these openings in the earth, were part of their underworld and a way to communicate with their gods. All kinds of objects have been found here, especially ritualistic objects," Tom ended with a mysterious smile.

Like the rest of the people I took of all my clothes, the only difference being that I was missing a swimsuit. I never understood the need for people to keep on any sort of clothes when they found themselves on private property and had the opportunity to feel fresh water rushing against their bare skin. I went first. With my feet dangling down to touch a piece of rope, I carefully made my way down the improvisational stairs. When there was enough space to turn around, I discovered I was in a large oval shaped cave filled with stalactites and stalagmites. The water was indeed crystalline blue and through another hole in the earth above a narrow beam of sunlight bore right through the water, lighting the whole cave with little dots of reflected sunlight. I could see now that there was sufficient depth, maybe seven or eight meters, to allow me to dive straight into the fresh water. The feeling was magical. Soon the rest followed and we splashed around for a while, allowing the rich minerals to work into our skin.

When we resurfaced from the underworld, we all felt an inexplicable difference and my skin felt silky smooth.

"Now people, I have saved the best for last," Tom started when we all had finished putting back our clothes on. "It's only a short drive. Officially this piece of the jungle is not part of Pueblo SacBe, but in the future we hope that this area will become part of our project."

The road was pretty bumpy and rough, but no more than five minutes later we stopped in front of a path that was too overgrown to continue by car. Large 'Thatch Palms' and exotic 'Bromelias' lined the rocky road and halfway along the path the remains of what once was a Mayan temple or dwelling were visible under the lush green overgrowth. At the end of the path I found myself overlooking a large lake that measured about a hundred meters in diameter. I stood at the rocky edge and looked down at least five meters, straight into the emerald colored water. We started to follow the path around the lake and Tom commented on specific structures and the plans they had to develop this spot into a recreational area.

"Now this 'cenote' is a perfect example of one where the roof of the cavern, or the earth crust so to speak, caved in and sank to the bottom," Tom continued. "Once we've dug out all the debris, we have no idea what depth we will find and to which other 'cenotes' this one is connected. Right now we will walk to a place where you can either climb down a narrow path towards the water or, for the more daring among us, jump into the water from a cliff. It's deep enough to dive, I estimate about seven meters."

I found myself at the edge of the cliff, completely naked and I felt the strong urge to elegantly dive into the green water. Being a practical girl just the same I realized that I could break my neck or at least seriously injure myself if I didn't know how to dive from such a height. Right then and there I decided that the first time I would have the opportunity I would take lessons in diving from a high board. Now, I simply jumped, and then swam across the lake towards the Tarzan swing that had been created. I climbed the steeped palm tree and at the highest possible point I swung myself wildly into the water and enthusiastically repeated the daring jumps a few times.

After the tour Tom, Craig and I went to the 'Blue Parrot' to fill our famished stomachs with fish tacos and beers, while overlooking the beautiful turquoise ocean. I gazed into all the different hues of blue and green and suddenly I saw everything coming together. Pueblo SacBe was the exact place I could make my dreams come true. I could buy a small piece of land and start my spiritual center and be part of this spiritual, holistic and ecological community. The picture became clear. After the high season I would return to Holland to write a business plan and find an investor. The next coming months I would use my time to investigate, to research and to evolve spiritually. This plan could work.

After we finished our lunch and bid goodbye to Craig, who thanked us profusely for the most adventurous tour he ever had - one that even included a naked jungle girl - Tom and I started to walk back home. Before we could reach the entrance of the 'Blue Parrot' on 1st Avenue I was staring into those incredible green eyes that belonged to Jayms. A little earthquake took place inside me.

**CHAPTER 15.**

**WHEN WILL I SEE YOU AGAIN**

"I knew I would see you again some day!" I said wholeheartedly. At first he looked a little surprised and awkward at my enthusiasm, but then he produced a warm smile. My heart was suddenly thumping rapidly and I was not sure what to say next. "What are you doing here?" I said for lack of a catchier phrase.

"I'm going to book a dive trip for a couple of people from my group," Jayms answered.

"Do you have any other plans for today?" I asked.

"Well, I'm pretty busy with my group, but tonight after dinner I can leave them by themselves for a little while I think. How does ten o'clock sound?"

"Sounds perfect. Where would you like to meet?"

"Here in the 'Blue Parrot'? It's the only bar I know in Playa del Carmen," he admitted with a shy grin.

"Sure, why not? So I'll see you at ten, here at the bar?"

"Yes."

"I'm looking forward to talking with you again," I said with a twinkle in my eyes.

"Sure. I'll see you later child," he answered with a friendly smile, but I couldn't detect a sparkle that reciprocated my feelings.

I walked to the hotel where I found another note from John, reminding me my time was almost up. I decided to move into my new studio the following day, freeing myself from the stress of encountering him. The rest of the afternoon I packed my three suitcases and thought about Jayms. I went out to buy a few items for my new studio and thought about Jayms. I walked up and down Fifth Avenue to kill the time and thought about Jayms. At exactly ten o'clock I walked into the 'Blue Parrot' and to my surprise I found him already sitting at the bar. I placed myself on a swing chair next to his and ordered a Margarita.

"Hey Jayms! What's up?" I started.

"Not much," he answered.

Not the talkative type I figured, but that didn't discourage me one bit.

"So tell me, how long have you've been a tour guide?" I asked.

"Let me see, I started when I was twenty six and that's six years ago."

"Ah, so you're thirty two."

"That's right."

"And what's your sign Jayms?"

"My sign is Cancer."

"Like my mother; and her husband as well. My sign is Aquarius and my ascendant is Scorpio, so that explains my interest in mysticism and," I said, smiling mischievously, "my passion for sensuality."

"From the way you walk I'm not surprised you are," he smiled back at me.

I felt butterflies in my stomach. "But traveling for six years is a long time. Don't you miss having a home?"

"To tell you the truth I do. It's starting to wear me out. I'm thinking about setting up my own tour agency."

"That sounds like an interesting plan. Where, here in Playa?"

"No, it's too crowded for me here. I would rather think about a place like Tulum."

"I still haven't been to Tulum," I confessed.

"You should. It's beautiful. I've been there a lot to surf. There are pretty good waves."

We continued to talk for a couple of hours. I noticed that he was tired, so I made sure to keep the conversation going and told him more about my life and my dreams and plans for the future. I noticed he enjoyed listening to my stories, despite his drained look. It felt so good to simply sit next to him and be around his energy, to observe his beautifully shaped hands and the tiny sun bleached curls and to gaze into those incredible green eyes.

"Listen Paula, I've really enjoyed listening to your stories, but I have to head back to my group."

"I understand. But why don't we see each other again tomorrow?"

"Sure, why not?"

"I know a better place though. It's called 'Lima', on the corner of Fifth and sixteen. Same time?"

"Somewhere between ten and eleven."

I had not had a chance to touch him because of the distance between those silly swing chairs, but I needed to smell him before he would leave.

"Hasta manaña then!" I said and gave him a quick hug burying my face between his curls and his neck, inhaling the scent of his skin. It was a sweet, fresh smell.

The next day I could think of nothing else but Jayms. My appetite had completely disappeared and I had the energy of ten people, singing and whistling while I moved into my new studio. With a few 'pareos' I created curtains and within a few hours I had turned the white, sterile room into a colorful home. I longed to be with Jayms again. I just wanted to be in his energy. It had felt so good and so natural as if I belonged there. I thought about my sexual adventures with Matthew, Pablo and Santiago. Suddenly I realized that their names where all biblical names, the apostles of Jesus. Well, at least I had kept it in the family, I concluded and I laughed at myself for having such an odd thought. Right now there was only one man I desired and that desire was focused on simply being around him and getting to know him.

I waited for two hours for Jayms, but he never showed up. Something must have come up, I figured, maybe something with his group. I knew I would see him again very soon. I needed to be by myself the first night in my new home. I needed to feel how much Jayms affected me. It was a lot, actually, more than I cared to admit at that moment.

The following days I tried to focus on finding employment. However, after some further investigation it turned out that I had to join the rest of the adventurers without capital to start their own business, and work slave hours at one of the resorts for a salary that barely paid the rent. Now that would turn out to be an interesting experience.

I continued to think about Jayms every single moment of the day. When tears started running down my cheeks when I thought of the moment I would see him again, I realized that my feelings for him went so deep that I had to admit I was simply in love with him. I was completely and deeply in love with Jayms. He was the only man I wanted to be with. He was the one. And that realization gave me peace. I would wait for him. I would not only wait for him, I would write him a beautiful letter and tell him about my feelings for him. Although I didn't have his email, I could try to make contact with him through Patrick, a beautiful tall black man who had his own tour company called 'Funky Tours'. I had met Patrick and his gorgeous girlfriend in Palenque and discovered that he knew Jayms when we shared a couple of beers together at 'El Panchan'.  I had written an email to Patrick, but days went by without a reply.

 I did find a job as a receptionist in one of the 'Riu' resorts in Playacar. I would work six days a week from three in the afternoon 'till eleven at night. However, when a bus full of tourists arrived just before midnight, which happened quite often, we were requested to stay until all of the guests had checked in. Dinner was included though. With a fashionable uniform that consisted of a short sleeved white blouse with a red fluffy tie and a knee length, dark blue skirt, a working permit in the bureaucratic mill, a signed contract that allowed me to receive a monthly paycheck for the generous amount of five hundred dollars and the promise that I would be promoted to assistant manager within three months if my Spanish would improve substantially, I was now officially part of the Mexican work force.

I had decided to spend my last money on a long weekend in Tulum before starting the grueling long weeks in a hotel that, in my eyes, had more resemblances to a vacation prison than that so called 'dream' in a Caribbean paradise.

When I returned from Tulum I started to write, something I had not done for a long time. I was in love and inspired and the creative juices started to flow.

_Imagine this: a thick, ivory colored envelope. The texture of the paper feels nice to your fingers and a subtle expression of excitement escapes from your face. Carefully you open the envelope and curiously unfold the two sheets of paper that are covered with an elegant handwriting and you start to read:_ __

_Playa del Carmen, December 17, 2000_ __

_Dear Jayms, The last time we met at the Blue Parrot, you left an even bigger impression than the first time in Palenque, when your piercing eyes went right through me, causing an electric-like jolt to the center of my body and a strange sense of recognition. You know Jayms, I have no idea why you occupy my thoughts so very much, since you played your role of the un-interested, non-talkative and 'mysterious' man quite well. Only days later I realized that you must be so incredibly tired, your energy drained by all those lovely travel people, all those years... I guess that´s what I saw and sensed both times. And still, it felt so natural to sit next to you, talk to you and listen to the warm tone of your voice that made me feel so comfortable. For some reason I knew I wasn´t going to see you that night at Lima, just because. Because the time was not right, nor the space. Knowing this, I still wandered the streets, hoping to find you somewhere in the crowd. Every time I thought I saw a glimpse of your playful curls, a wave of magnetic energy concentrated at my solar plexus and shortly after, this frequency dissolved through the rest of my body, leaving me with a mixture of hopeful twinkles and drops of disappointment. Hundreds of times a whisper passed my lips, saying your name, over and over again, like a sensual mantra, calling out for an answer. The sensations that were singing through my body, this past full moon, left me exhausted but with a strong and peaceful happiness. From the realms of feelings and emotions all of this came, where logic and common sense are not in the game. I did nothing but observe myself and embrace the creativity this situation was catalyzing in me, so I could pursue my quest in finding you. Mysteriously I got hold of Patrick's email, that was given to me by some friends I had met in Palenque as well, but no reply came from that part of the country. Then my dreams told me to go to Tulum and so I did. Whispers from an angel showed me which exact spot to go to and so I did. White was the beach, inviting me to heal and heat up my body by my good friend the Sun and so I did. I imagined that the rays of warming energy would sooth away my emotions to forgetfulness, but instead they burned the existing feelings even deeper into my being. Tears started running down my face and I walked into the beloved Sea where her wild waves were breaking against my body, so the drops of salty seawater could mingle with her Sisters. I howled like a crying wolf and loved every second of feeling and living so intensely and in tune with the Universe.  Still simmering from that emotional explosion, I was lying in a hammock under a palm tree, when a shaman with a long beard and dreads to his waist came walking up to me as if to greet a long lost friend. I did not know the man, but he had familiar and wise eyes, that were lingering on the voluptuous curves of my body for some time. He welcomed me to the tribe of extraterrestrial Master Healers. Hahaha... but of course, I knew that! As we were sitting at the border of a lagoon at Sian Khaan the next day, naked and covered with white clay, I started telling him about you, describing the few things you shared with me. "But I know this guy", he said enthusiastically, "...and his friend Patrick too, the tall black guy!". This was most likely a good sign. He assured me I would meet my 'mysterious' man soon, especially since we met at Palenque. The next morning I woke up just before sunrise and felt the energy of the early morning that is filled with new promises. I faced the rising sun and let my spirit fill up with the white-golden Light. I knew and felt thankful that  in magic moments infinite Wisdom and Love would come and I said: "Just let me know what to do." I lay down in the early sun, still pink and soft, until an upcoming breeze told me to get my things and go to the temple-ruins of Tulum and so I did. I was walking along the beach towards the Lighthouse, where the waves rolled and sizzled so invitingly, that I felt suddenly hungry for breakfast. So I walked up the sand dunes that were hiding some cabañas, palapas and hammocks and there it was... Patrick´s white van from Funky Tours. And that´s how I got hold of your card, Jayms. And every morning at sunrise I´m still asking:_

_WHEN WILL I SEE YOU AGAIN..._

**CHAPTER 16.**

**A MAGICAL NEW YEAR**

Within a few days I had settled into my new routine. The mornings were scheduled for yoga and the beach, and shortly before three I would arrive at the reception of the hotel on my new red bike with large printed letters on the frame that read 'Jaguar'. Unlike everybody else I arrived at my work with a stylish outfit that matched the fashion sense of the director, a friendly Italian woman my age. In the bathroom I changed into my boring uniform with the fluffy red bow tie. The first week my feet got a grueling workout as I stood for eight hours behind a marble counter. I did get a half hour break to eat. The food was simply disgusting, greasy and with no vegetables worth mentioning. I never understood the logic of not taking good care of one's employees. When a cook can prepare such tasty dishes for his guests, why does he make an effort in presenting his colleagues with dishes that are so tasteless, that only the word 'prison food' could come to mind?

I had nice colleagues though and the only time we were really busy was when a bus full of tourists arrived and needed to be checked-in. After they had all retreated to their designated rooms, the guests then had to be called individually to ask if everything was according to their wishes, which resulted in another round of sending maids with extra towels and blankets, or a maintenance man to check on AC remote control that refused to work. I was the busiest when a group of French Canadians arrived, since nobody was able to understand that weird French accent. Because we had so many hours that were spent hanging and waiting for guests, I had developed a routine of always carrying a piece of paper and a pen in the pocket of my skirt, so whenever there was an opportunity I was either writing to Jayms or studying new Spanish words.

The hotel had provided me also with another somewhat irregular job that added a few decent bucks to my meager salary, and that was babysitting. Whenever parents wanted a romantic evening in a restaurant or a single mother wanted a night out in the town, I was asked to watch the children who, more often than not, were already in bed by the time I arrived. I would sit quietly on the balcony, listening to the night crickets and read or write.

There was one babysitting client though who would not allow me any time for myself. Her name was Anna. She was a beautiful, silver blond, senior woman, who was originally from Germany. She was married to an American of Indian decent. Sadly, she had developed a severe case of Alzheimer and her husband simply needed a few hours a day for himself, because she was like a little child and could not be left unsupervised. During lunch she would suddenly pull up her shirt and expose her little breasts, which I quickly tried to cover by pulling the shirt back down and drawing her attention elsewhere. Or, without a word, she would walk from her plate and start playing with some children at another table. Sometimes she would suddenly turn into an aggressive frenzy, hitting me vigorously with her little fists. The only thing that soothed Anna's emotional state was walking and that is what we did.

At noon I picked her up and then returned Anna to her husband when my shift started at three. We walked from one 'Riu' resort to the other, along the paths and through the gardens, and that is when Anna would talk incessantly. She talked in German and although half of it was indecipherable, I was able to speak some German and she smiled often when we walked and talked together. At the few resorts we visited we always took a little break in the restaurant and picked a few items from the buffet. Often I had to feed her and I saw that she enjoyed the attention. But every so often she would suddenly attack me and I had to hold her by her wrists to avoid any serious injuries. People were first endeared by the picture of me feeding her, but with the sequential violent scene they had no reference point and I saw confusion in their eyes. One afternoon, a big, sunburned man with neon colored shorts had the audacity to come up to me and say, "Maybe you should take it a little easy on the lady."

"Sure!" I said.

I loosened my grip on Anna's wrist and within a split second she had freed herself and started pounding feverishly with her little fists on my arms that I protectively held in front of my face. Anna was small and with my athletic built I could easily hold her at a distance, but she was strong nevertheless.

"Maybe the lady should take it a little easy on me, don't you think?" I shot towards the man with the wise-ass remark. He mumbled an apology and disappeared. It was all part of the job.

Another routine that I had developed was checking my email before and after my shift at an Internet Café. An answer from Jayms was what I was desperately waiting for. There was no doubt in my mind that we would meet again and that it would be magical. But the waiting was challenging. Seven days went by and still no word. I let all the possibilities pass through my mind. Maybe he wasn't able to check his emails because he was with a group deep in the jungle. Maybe it was the wrong email. Maybe I had scared the shit out of him with my passionate words. I figured that the last option was very feasible and so decided to write another letter, calming the passionate flames that may have turned of few things into cinder. I realized that I still needed to train that impulsive and fearless dragon in me a little more. That night I started to write.

_Hi Jayms,_

_I guess that last message scared the shit out of you. Well join the club, you are not the only one. You see, besides all the things I told you that I do in my life, I´m also a writer. When a certain moment in life gets me all inspired and energy of the moon is extremely strong, I tend to get a little carried away. Yes, true, I am an extremely emotional and passionate woman, but I forgot that a lot of men (well, maybe even most of them) get nervous when a powerful woman shows some strong emotions. That´s OK, boys will be boys... Anyway, I´m pretty much back to normal now. I´m having a busy and fulfilling life here. I finally got my little studio and transformed it into a harmonious temple that I can call home. I got a job during the evening hours as an assistant manager in one of the expensive 5 star hotels in Playacar and the rest of my time I can spend on my own projects. I like working the evening hours, because this gives me the opportunity to take my yoga classes, do sports or go to the beach in the morning. So I have my little red jaguar that takes me around town and back and forth to my work. And of course my little cellular to call my girlfriends to ask them to go shopping and treat ourselves to a present for Christmas with my dusty credit card. After all, we are the ones that have to take care of ourselves and we do. We are locals, so we get a good price. And to top the story, I have a sweet and spiritual lover friend that I share the underground party scene with. Part of the Playa gang, you know. Just a bunch of incredible intelligent and spiritual and creative people. But Jayms, you beautiful man, I would still like to look one more time into these incredible eyes of yours and see what got me in such an intense state of lunacy..._

Luz y Amor

_Paula_

_Ps: If you happen to be in town you can call me on my cellular: 044 - 980.66543 or at my work 987.31300_

Exactly thirteen days after I had send my first email to Jayms, and one day before the New Year's celebration of 2001, I received an answer from him. He wrote in telegram style with many dots between the sentences that were mostly never finished, but it was a long email and I was so happy to finally, after thirteen long days, hear from him. It was an old email address he rarely used, so that is why he had taken so long to respond. He wrote to me that he was very moved by my letter and that he thought it was beautiful and full of passion. He liked that in a woman. We would meet very soon, no more than a few weeks he promised. He was too busy with his groups for any private time. That night, after I returned home from my shift, I sat down at my little black table and I wrote a beautiful New Years wish.

_Ola Chico,_

_The glowing grin that appeared on my face as I was reading your message rekindled the patience and faith with which I had been waiting for an answer, so many a day... Thank you for giving me the opportunity to close up this past year without any unanswered questions. It´s good to know that we are spending New Years on the same coast of magical Mayaland, where the Sea Priestess still practices her sacred rituals. Same time, just a different space. And within this space, the realms of a more etheric reality, I´ll send you a spiral of energy, carrying every color you can imagine, swiftly swirling around you, leaving sparks of Love & Light, inspiring you to become all you can imagine you could ever be... You will feel something carefully lingering close to your face, whispering, singing, wishing you:_

_THE MOST WONDERFUL AND MAGICAL NEW YEAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_

**CHAPTER 17.**

**THE FIRST TIME**

Jayms and I continued to write and flirt through our emails, he with short telegram style messages in sometimes-imperfect English and I with poetic prose.

_chica... happy new year...loved you last message, gracias...   just pulled inmto tulum... from the hills of ocosingo...finihsingh up another trip.... here for 4 days,  will be coming into playa a couple of days i am sure....let get together.... sounds like you have sorted everything out nicely in plauya!!  good on you child!!!!! talk soon... love, jayms_

Finally he had a couple of days off before picking up his new group in Cancun. I convinced him that my studio, with candles, incense and breakfast in bed, would be a lot more romantic than an impersonal hotel room, unless it came with a Jacuzzi, caviar and champagne.

_hola...on the island right now.... yeah maybe that would work if ic ame down to playa, gave a few things hat came up with my van , i have to take care of, but will let you know asap...a harmonius place does sound better than a funky hotel...would love to smell the fruits of incense and feel the intense warmth of some nice oil....... tell me more chica.... lets blur the lines ...._

Hey Chico, I will tell you more chico, much more, so much more... soon, very soon. We'll smell, sense, feel and blur right into orbit...

_hey chica...in cancun, have some work do on my van...hope to be doem today... whatr u doing...let meknow, jayms_ __

Hey Chico, I'm working till eleven and then I'm either coming to Cancun or you can pick me up at the Riu Yucatan in Playacar. So call me to tell me what you decide to do. I'm waiting for your call either at my cellular 044-980 66543 or at the front desk 987-31300. Paula

Playa del Carmen, January 7, 2001

Dear Mary,

Let me give you the latest update on my love story. So he calls me around nine at my work. I tell him it so nice to hear his voice (he has a beautiful soft and comforting voice). I ask him if he is coming to Playa and he tells me he is really tired. I tell him I have to talk to him and tell him some important things. I promise him it will be worthwhile. I ask him 'please'. He says he will arrive at midnight. And he does, 'exactly' at midnight. ( I love that, you know).

It is so nice to see him. It has been many, many weeks. We talk like old friends, it's comfortable, it's exciting. He loves my home. I tell him that from now on he can consider this as his home as well, whenever he is in Playa. He accepts like it is the most natural thing in the world. I tell him a little bit of what I've been feeling (no not everything) and it has been the same for him. I tell him that I had tried to send him this email, but it had never arrived. So I read him the following letter:

Dear Jayms,

As I was biking home from work last night and felt the refreshing cold from the evening stars, I thought of you in your little tent at Isla Mujeres, chilled and alone. When I got home I greeted my little temple, lit all the candles and some incense, put on some relaxing music, took of my clothes and smoked some green medicine. A long hot shower helped me to clean off the day, heating up my chilled body and enticing my spirit for inspiring moments to come. I oiled myself and then started dancing in front of the mirror, watching and enjoying the rhythmic and sensual moves of my round body, dancing for the Goddess inside of me, dancing for you...

I stepped onto my bed and started to move like a feline, as if lingering over your body, slowly exploring every single part of your skin, smelling your scent, carefully touching your moves, licking them, purring, leaving a moist trail with my dancing tongue that was lighted by flickering candle flames. I turned on my back, imagining your hands touching me all over, your lips kissing my deliciousness, your love warming my soul, your passion entering my hungry heart and groaning I erupted into ecstasy, for what seemed an eternity...

Mary, he loves the story! We start to make love only with our hands for a while and the rest you can just imagine. God, it was so beautiful. Everything fit so perfectly. We sleep only a few hours. He has to leave at seven in the morning to Cancun to pick up his new group. I put fruits and banana bread into a little bag for his breakfast. And I give him the spare set of keys to my apartment that I had made for him weeks ago (a Christmas present). Again he accepts like it is the most natural thing in the world. We will see each other in two weeks when he will pass through Playa with his new group. This is him and I love him (but I don't say it just yet). To be continued...

Mary, thank you for being my friend. Love and Light. Paula

Playa del Carmen, January 7th, 2001

Dear Jayms,

As I was listening to the last sounds of your van leaving, I buried my face in the pillow, trying to pick up the last traces of your scent that were still lingering in the room. Images of your beautiful face and your delicious body mingled with traces of erotic dreams as I fell asleep for a few more hours. As soon as I woke up, I went to the beach where I could continue this dreamlike state of mind and enjoy again and again and again all that was said and sensed and expressed this first night we fell asleep and woke up together.

I could still feel your soft skin sliding under my touches, your strong and warm body enjoying my passion, your beautiful hands discovering my softness and suppleness. Every single move I felt again, every sigh I heard again, over and over and God, it felt so right and so beautiful. Oh Jayms, to be with you, to hear your calming voice, to be touched by you, to feel you inside of me and everywhere, just felt so soothing and comfortable and at the same time so exciting and sensual and full of passion. How I still hungered for your lips, how I lusted for your glistening tongue, how I wanted to feel your hardness in my mouth again, how you excite me Jayms, like no one...

After the beach I went to work where my friends told me I had this angel-like but horny smile on my face and that I was floating a few inches above the floor. Yeah yeah guys, now don´t exaggerate okay? The tips I received that night certainly were no exaggeration.

Even Anna, my little German patient, noticed a difference and hand in hand we walked through the gardens of the neighboring resorts, taking a cappucino and fruit pastries at one place and a plate of French cheese, marinated seafood and a glass of wine at another. How beautiful life is when you shine and sparkle because you feel touched so deeply. I guess Anna felt some of the sparkles, because the last hour she became very aggressive, trying to beat the shit out of me. My body can take a few blows, so I just let her scream and yell at me and finally took off with bruised and scratched arms. It´s funny how people come up to us or even try to get between us, asking me to take it easy on her... but of course.

As the early sunrays woke me up the following days, I opened my eyes and spoke out your name... Jayms... Like I had been doing for the past weeks every single morning... Jayms, good morning my love. But this time I could feel your warmth and your tenderness, I could just see your tiny little curls lining your face, only minutes before you would open your eyes and look at me with the warmest smile and say...

Love, Paula

**CHAPTER 18.**

**HORNY AS HELL**

_hey child...how are you, sun is shining in san cris today... just arrived.... here fir a few days, trying to keep warm... have a small group , all girls, mellow, cool, shiny..._ _so yeah, tell me about your horniness!!! always intersted in a woman´s perspective on sensuality....loved our little interlude the other evening..... was thinking , one of these days i d love to tie you up and tea_ _se you a while....adios...love jayms_

Playa del Carmen, January 14th, 2001

Dear Jayms,

Moments before I had to leave home to go to Playacar and pick up Anna, I pulled up my skirt, took off my black tanga and lay down on the bed on my back. I closed my eyes and imagined you above me, your face expressing joy and light and lust, your body radiating heart and heat, your hands touching my round parts. I moved my fingers to my mouth where they started dancing with my tongue and my lips, remembering the sensual love play with your beautiful hand, just days ago. My fingers started caressing a different moistness, where lips were swollen and warm and wanting. Wanting so bad to feel your hardness again and again and again, I came, long and loud and loved...

I had dressed sexy and felt even more so after this intimate interlude. The satisfaction that this self-play had brought made me want more and biking to the hotel felt sensual and stimulating. After I had freed Anna's husband from his wife's unpredictable mood swings, I decided to go see a friend who was renting a large villa in Playacar, not far from the hotel. It would be a nice walk for Anna. I had met Franco at New Years with a whole bunch of his Canadian friends. Franco and I had ended up talking about heavy spiritual stuff for hours, leaving everybody else to dance and party. Fortunately Anna was her sweetest self with the other people present at the villa, so I was able to spend some time with my friend on the sun terrace, which offered a great view of the Caribbean sea. He suddenly became kind of attractive to me when I noticed that he had the same build as you. We flirted a little and I told him about you and my feelings for you and these strange sexual energies that were running through my body. A friend is a person who you can tell these things in all honesty. That´s why Franco and I call each other buddies. I guess. I was getting hungry and ready to leave for lunch, so I called Anna and she put up a lovely aggressive scene, but luckily not for too long. I noticed I was starting to show some force with my piercing eyes and my strong voice, because I did not want to get any more bruises or scratches from her nails or teeth. She was trying me of course. On the way back to the hotel, Anna and I bumped into Pablo, my beautiful, young Aztec lover friend. When I saw him a smile appeared on my face. We are always so happy to see each other, although it is not often. He asked me if I had some green medicine for him and I said that he could come by at six to my place. I continued my walk with Anna and we finally had a delicious lunch. At three o´clock I handed her over to her bearded, cigar-smoking husband. Now it was time for me, myself and I, because it was my day off!

At 'Sacbe Condos' I parked my bike and started wiggling my horny ass down Fifth Avenue where I found a lively crowd of vacation people and local friends who used the main street to socialize. My eyes were caught by a beautiful young boy with long dark curls and big brown eyes, smiling at me, inviting me to come over with a friendly gesture. I moved towards the table where he was drinking a cup of tea and reading a book by Carlos Castaneda. When he told me his name was Benjamin, I started laughing because it reminded me of my very first friend I met at the beach on my very first day in Playa, and who happens to share the same name. He's a famous hot shot lawyer from LA, who lusted after me for weeks, even after I told him I was waiting for my true love and was not in the least bit attracted to a greying, belly growing, love handled late-fortier with hair on his back. Oops, those words hurt his ego a bit. Nevertheless, after that bittersweet confession we were able to be friends.

But this little Benjamin was quite a different story altogether. The Universe knows well my taste for young, beautiful, restless rebels, and this was another example of the exquisiteness of life itself. It was his first day in Playa. He had just arrived from Sonoma and was on a spiritual quest, heading for Palenque to get in touch with his indigenous roots.

"I will tell you all about the magic in Palenque," I said, and we continued to talk and laugh and flirt. It was almost six o´clock and I had to go home to meet with Pablo, but we planned to have dinner together later and continue our inspiring conversation.

Only five minutes after I arrived at my studio, Pablo knocked on the door and we embraced each other. I sat next to him on the bed and I told him I wanted to talk because it had been a few weeks since we had shared an intimate conversation.  I told him I had finally met you Jayms, and that it is so beautiful and that you had touched me so deeply and he was truly happy for me. But only minutes later, he started to kiss me passionately and whispering in my ear how he had missed feeling me, touching me, being with me and I simply melted for his sweetness...

Later that evening, as if no time had passed since our departure, I continued my conversation with beautiful Benjamin as we strolled down 5th Avenue in search of a vegetarian restaurant. How this evening was going to end I had no idea. I did know that I was experiencing feelings and emotions that I had not felt before so strongly and yet these emotions were familiar. All my thoughts, my energy, my words were filled with you Jayms and at the same time I purred inside when Benjamin offered to give me a professional massage. And did I need a massage! This hardworking woman definitely needed a good massage. It was strong bodywork and it felt wonderful and healing. I was grateful. When I opened my eyes, my body aligned and recharged, I just couldn´t take them off this gorgeous being, soft and strong like a young Mayan warrior, with wise and naughty eyes and young sexual energy, too 'wanting' to listen to the subtle rhythm of a sexual dance. So here and there he needed a little gentle instruction to learn to master the art of making love. I thought of you and it felt right and I took off and enjoyed.

PS: It´s a nice thought that you are feeling all shiny and mellow and cool between all these girls, trying to keep warm. I could just see you... shining in your sensuality... and I came again...

_hey child... in tuxtla on a ñlittle day trip.... sounds like you have some intersting lovers..... sensual....thinking of oyu beautoiful breasts last night while i hung in my cold hotel   room...... your erect nipples, asking fo attention from my mouth... your lines, your hips, your warm flower...do want to photograph you a bit, some beautful black and whites would be nice,,,some sensual shots of your curves....tell me on of your most secret, most intense fantasies.... one that leaves you moist and excited...have to run flora... adios_

Jayms, only a true man would know what fantasy arouses me like nothing else, what makes my skin so sensitive to every touch, what makes my nipples hard and erect, what makes my lips all wet and wanting, what teases me to twist and turn in agony... To the one who knows, I will surrender to the point of no control... And you know my Love, for you have mentioned it already...

_chica... hope you are çhaving a cool day... i am in palenque, maybe i could swing by tues night to playa...??? looking forwars to feeling your curves again, especially coming out of the jungle, i get asll these primal urges here in the bush...want you to surrender for a while... feel all your senses multiply while you are overwhelmed with touch..._ _submit child, feel how taut your body is tied in different positions.... move, squirm, moan.... feel the wax in sensitive drops...ciao_

Hola Chico, of course you can swing by on Tuesday night. I should get home around midnight, but honey, you have your keys, so... swing by anytime. About Wednesday, just tell me what time is best, I don't mind hanging in your room until you're done with your girls. I totally understand. We'll talk about it later. I'm gonna ask Paqui, the Manager, if I can switch my day off to Sunday, my birthday, that would even be better. It would be perfect. So: "Thank you Paqui, for changing my day off to Sunday. Thank you so much!" I'm looking forward too, God I'm looking forward to everything... And something else... I don't want to surrender for while... but for the longest time... Love Paula

Playa del Carmen, January 21st, 2001

Dear Mother Mary,

Here is my latest update. So he called on Tuesday evening at my work that he was in Playa and if he could take a shower at my place. You don't have to ask, of course. I will see you later. I will wait for you. I came home and he was sleeping on my bed. I had left a candle on my bed with a little note: how did you know? How did he know in the first place that a little tying up excites me like nothing else (out of control) and then how in earth did he know about the candlewax. Absolutely nobody knows this. I've never told anybody and I have done this only once, about ten years ago. It does not really hurt but it is very exciting. We started kissing and before I knew, I had a rope tied around my wrists and I was hanging from a hook on the wall, where they hang the hammocks, with my arms above my head. He lit the candle and dropped little drops of candlewax on my body and God it was good. This was the second time I saw him naked and I completely loved his body, so sexy, the way he moved, walked, everything. And the thought that I was tied up on our second night together was just so.... I don't know, I have no words for it. I just love this man, that's all I could think.

The game did not last very long. It did not have to. We continued to make love, well, I continued to make love to him, taking him in my mouth for the longest time (I just LOVE to do this) and he loved it and came and I swear Mary, I've never tasted something so creamy and so sweet. We slept only a few hours, both having to start at seven in the morning. We would see each other again tonight in XpuHa...

To be continued...

Love you Mary!

**CHAPTER 19.**

**THREESOME**

Playa del Carmen, February 2001

Dear Jayms,

Finally the thick layer of clouds was willing to be replaced by a crisp blue sky and a warm and energizing sun. For hours I was able to recharge and heal myself by these radiant rays. That evening at the hotel we all decided to enjoy this sultry night and heat up Playa with our passionate dances. I danced like a Goddess, expressing my joy for life. I danced and prayed and contemplated. I reflected on the symbols that had been dancing in and out of my life, affirming my emotions. It seemed that most affirmations were highlighted by the number three.

On my birthday I had been in Playa exactly three months and three days. My birthday is on the 21st; the numbers added together equaling three. I turned thirty-six. If you add three and six, it makes nine, which is three times three. The ashtray you broke was the first one in a row of three. Three days after I felt you, I flowed. After I had told my friend Kerstin at work how happy it made me feel to be able to share everything with you, three gentleman came up to the front desk that night to give me a message. The first one handed me a golden wedding band he had found in the coral while he was snorkeling. I did my very best to find the rightful owner and even called the neighboring resorts, but alas to no avail. The inscription at the inside of the ring read: _Elenita_ , _29-12-00_. The second man gave me a Danish Crown, on which you could see some small hearts. The third man appeared to be a little drunk and in need of a heart to heart talk. After fifteen years he had found his teenage sweetheart again and within three months they had married. She is five weeks pregnant now. He was shining like the happiest man in the world. "Marriage is beautiful," he said. "It is beautiful because it is a commitment of love that you make, a way of life."

A few nights ago another threesome affirmed the state of mind I was in. First my colleague David came up to me and said: "I always see you writing these notes to the man you love and this got me all inspired to learn this poem by heart. Well, to be honest, I also did it to impress you." And he started.

_Con estas ganas de tenerte_

_de mirarte, de besarte_

_de poderte entre mis brasos_

_con ternura contemplar_

_Con estas ganas de decirte que te adoro_

_que no pienso solo lloro_

_pues muy lejos vives solo_

_junto al mar_

_En ese mar mar quisiera estar_

_con tu presencia opacar_

_esa beleza y esa luz_

_que nace libre al contemplar_

_Que tu has llegado a este lugar_

_que yo he podido comprobar_

_que solo a ti yo podre amar_

_con fuerza que robo del mar_

I was truly impressed. A few hours later Sr. Puma, a real Mexican mariachi, came to the front desk. He is one of the singers of  'Los Estrelares', who were performing in the hotel. While he was waiting for the manager, he started to sing to me with the most beautiful and tender voice.

_No existe un momento de el dia_

_en que pueda apartame de ti_

_ya todo parece distinto_

_cuando no estas junto a mi_

_No hay bella melodia_

_en que no surgas tu_

_ni yo quiero escucharla_

_si no escuchas tu_

_Y es que te haz convertido_

_en parte de mi alma_

_ya nada me conforma_

_si no estas tu tambien_

_Mas alla de tus labios_

_de el sol y las estrellas_

_contigo en la distancia_

_amada mia, estoy_

I was enchanted. The third man that caught this creative flow was Poly, a body builder bellboy who had just started working at the hotel. "Como estas?" he asked. "Bien, muy bien, gracias," I replied and he continued with this rhyme:

_" Como Santo Eleno_

_Y como mas viejo_

_Mas bueno... "_

I knew the third Elena would show herself soon and so she did. A girlfriend of mine, Joyous, called and told me she had been pretty sick the last few days from a virus or bacteria or some other tropical malady we all seem to get here sooner or later.

"Well, my shift is 'till three, so I'll come and see you after work and I can pick up a couple of videos or get you some groceries, alright?" I said.

"Oh great," she replied and I could hear her appreciation. Needless to say, girl talk is an important ingredient in women gatherings, full of masculine flavors. Anyway, I picked up a nice romantic adventure from Tom and Joanne's video collection and brought it to Joyous' place, where we lazily lay on the bed and watched 'The Mask of Zorro'. The absolutely, amazingly beautiful Catherine Zeta-Jones played the lost daughter of the original Old Zorro and the love of the young New Zorro. She plays a spirited woman who fights and lusts like a man and is called: Elena...

And now, I wait for you to return to Playa, for the third time...

But hey, time flies when you're feeling joy!

**CHAPTER 20.**

**TELL IT ALL**

_hi!!!...beautiful picture child...how are you???   i am good, have been up in lake tahoe doing alittle sking... cold!!! how is playa????  work good???? i am up here wondering why i am up here.....no trips planned...have a pic for you....ciao bella_

Hi!!! Enticing picture child... How am I??? Well Jayms, I'm going through an exciting period of transformation and starting to shine more brightly every day. And you are good. It's really good to hear you are good, doing a little skiing. It has been a few years since I went skiing. From the age of seven I used to go skiing a lot, sometimes up to two or three times a year. One winter season I lived in the French Alps, and managed a small Bed & Breakfast. I took the guests on tours or taught them how to get down a slope in a decent way.

Cold!!! Honey, the Caribbean breeze that softly embraces and caresses me, is cold enough for me right now, thank you very much.

How is Playa ???? Playa is being it's magic self, as usual. My days are filled with yoga classes, beach lounging, ocean viewing and jungle tripping. My nights are filled with lobster dinners, rooftop concerts, fun parties and Jacuzzi dipping in penthouses.

Work good ???? Yeah, work is good. The Universe has lent me a hand by trading my six days a week slave existence for a freelance massage therapist and babysitter career. Turned out they couldn't get my working permit in order. I'm also assisting

in organizing and hosting a birthday party on a huge rooftop with a pasta buffet and great musicians and performers. I've done this many times in Holland for a much bigger audience, so this could open up new prospects for me. And I just started working with a non-profit organization called 'Angelnotion'. This is an organization and clinic that helps the Mexican people with medical and educational needs.

So Jayms, you are up there wondering why you are up there. Fascinating.

No trips planned. I do. I'm going to Cuba this weekend with some friends, to dance and have the time of my life!

I'm sending you also another picture. This one a friend of mine made a few days ago as a Valentine present for you.

Love, Paula

PS: Maybe I should just tie you up to find out how you really are...

_Hey....beautiful pic.....raining up here.....hey dont say that , you 're getting me all excited.....might hop a plane down south!!!!!!!! ciao_

Hola Guapo,

These pictures got me groaning... My God Jayms... You are truly a very talented photographer and these black and white nudes of yourself are so sensual, with a hint of mystery. Breathtaking. Might hop a plane down south!!!!!!! Well, I'll be in Playa for another 2 or 3 months before I go back to Holland to take care of business, so take your time! Besos apassionados de Habana Cuba... Te guardo el ultimo baile para ti... Amor. Paula

_mm   sounds exciting_

_tel me more child..._

Jayms,

The past month I've brought myself so much delight, picturing you in every imaginable way, touching me, kissing me, licking me or just fucking me. Thinking of your sensuality warms the secrets of my thoughts, heats the inside of my thighs, burns my lips to a moist, and drips the wetness from my sex. And then these pictures, my God Jayms...

I've slept just a few hours last night, my muscles still sore from the moves and turns and swirls I made to every kind of Cuban sound from heated nightclubs. It doesn't look like tonight is going to be any different, if I get any sleep at all before I have to catch my plane. I don't know if you've ever been to Havana, but I've never seen such a vibrant city filled with a passion for life. It is a joy to 'roam' the streets, admiring all these incredible and gorgeous women in their sensuousness. And I've never seen so many beautiful men, gazing hungrily at my horny round ass that feels your teasing touches constantly.

I want you Jayms, I want you so bad. I want you to get you delicious little ass over here, so I can lick it and suck it like I've (never) done before. Asap!

_...no email..._

Hi beautiful,

How are you doing? I'm ok, kind off. The party was an enormous success, thanks to a lot of improvising. The cook became sick, so I ended up cooking up the pasta buffet and made the fruit punch. Everybody loved it. So besides the fact that I give the best blowjobs, I'm a great cook too. Growing up and working in restaurants and kitchens gave me sufficient experience. I even worked as a chef for a month, when my boss was very sick and I had to replace him. He gave me an antique Chinese Buddha statue with a hidden erotic carving to show his gratitude for doing an excellent job.

Anyway, I'm feeling kind of strange right now. This morning I was knocked off my bike, pretty hard. I was on my way to this hotel on Juarez, a busy street, where eighty-six doctors, surgeons, nurses and their spouses and children are staying. They come here every year to help those in real need. 'Angelnotion' offered a dinner in a restaurant at the beach for all these people. A day later, the money from the mayor came through to pay for this dinner. You just have to make it happen.

So as I was saying about this morning, I decided to go to the hotel to make my services known as a massage therapist and babysitter. I was almost there, when a heavy set Mexican man, came from behind a parked van I had just passed, running at full speed as he chased a robber, and collided with me, throwing me off my bike to the street. Thank God there were no cars behind me, which was unusual as it is one of the busiest streets of Playa. It was a consolation that the impact knocked him against the street just as hard. I'm okay, but my knee hurts and my eye is a little swollen and blue and purple. An eye like that immediately brings back old memories, making me cry for triggering emotions like humiliation, helplessness and rage. The basket on my bike looks a little different and swings widely when I turn a corner. My beautiful sunglasses are bent beyond repair and the store doesn't want to pay to repair them. So what do you say to a big Mexican man in strong Spanish: "What the '...' do you think you were doing, chasing a robber who stole your bucket of paint. Do you know how dangerous it is to do something like that? There could have been a truck or a bus instead of me. Do you understand? Nothing is worth our lives and certainly not a bucket of paint worth ninety dollars. Your company won't even pay for my sunglasses, you are risking your life and they have you pay. Makes you think, right? And I'm not gonna ask you for any money, because my glasses are worth what you make in one month. So don't ever do this again!" My eyes were shooting fire. I was really upset, realizing this was not to be taken lightly and I wanted to know exactly why this had happened. I mean, everything happens for a reason, especially a forceful event like this one.

I feel strange and sensitive and I'm crying for no apparent reason. I need to be alone right now, recharging in the sun, writing about my being, my state of awareness and my emotions. Someone told me that we've been together too short a time, to really miss each other and most of the time I share this opinion. But now I realize that there are moments like now, that I miss you, because you make me feel safe. Paula

_...no email..._

Jayms,

I know there are times that you grow silent, sometimes for weeks, as if saying: 'Enough woman!' I know what to do then; just enjoy my beautiful life in the Caribbean and have patience.

But this time it's different. A deep purple bruise has completely covered my right eye and I imagine what people are thinking when they pass me in the streets. I just want to walk up to them and say: "I don't have a man! It was only an accident. I'm all alone!" And that's how I feel, so I go home and cry and cry, until I'm too exhausted to spill any more tears. No more than a few minutes later my girlfriend calls, we meet for a cup of coffee and we talk and share and try to understand what the Universe is trying to say. The stronger the woman, the tougher the lesson, that's clear. My friends are being so sweet and understanding, but that still leaves me sad and tired. I'm so tired of struggling, surviving, trying to make ends meet, being a tough cookie. All I want to do is dream about being rescued by a knight in shining armor, who does not even exist. So I swallow my tears, tighten up my ass, put on a smile and pray. And then I hear whisperings: "You're not alone, you'll be just fine..."

_hey child....ahhh pretty gitl, im sorry to hear of oyur accident.......black eyes huh???   well that will disppear soon... just hang in there.... im in s.f. tooling around, tring to gain some sense of my world these days... might be doinga trip next month back to mex with the comapany ia hve been working for.....no t sure,  was abou to take a esl teaching course here too..?? very undecided and ut s making me tired... hey feel beetre mija.. go sit down at the beach for me..._

Jayms,

Just as I'm an inspiration to certain people, you have been, and still are, an incredible inspiration to me. I don't know if you remember me telling you, but I'm writing a book and many pages have been written by my hand, filled with words and sentences that have brought my family and friends to tears and laughter. Just before I left for India, the muse who brings me inspiration took a holiday and this muse didn't return until you touched me so deeply, exactly one year later. I thank you for bringing this inspiration back, Jayms.

But since you left for San Francisco, it seems like more muses have joined the club and they are having a ball, I can tell you. I'm writing during the day at the beach. I'm writing during the evening at the front desk, between the check-in's and answering questions in five different languages. I'm writing at night at my little black table, sometimes until five o'clock in the morning. I'm writing like my life depends on it and maybe that is not so far from the truth. It's my life's purpose to write this book. I need to share my story with other people, so they may find inspiration in my words. Inspiration they can use in their own lives. Like my sister is using my stories to warm the cold depressive winter months of her life.

I have told you that my sister is not doing so well. Coping with life is getting more and more difficult for her and the email she sent me shortly after New Years was a first cry for help. I answered her email with a long letter and she was very happy to read some of my Caribbean adventures and said she was printing them out, saving them and eager to hear more. Then my mother sent me an email, telling me that my sister is actually depressed but not willing to take any medications or therapy, which I totally understand. Then I heard a third time that she is not okay, when I was having a Tarot-Astrology reading for my birthday by my friend Arturo.

"You have to help your sister," he urged me. "It is very important that you help your sister. The first important thing you should do is pray for her. And your letters are helping her more than you can imagine."

So I've started to write to her. I've started writing about my life in Playa from the very first day. Finally I can write in Dutch again, which makes the words flow so much easier than in English. I know I'm able to reach her through my letters. Helping my sister has become an important task for me.

    I talked to Chalo about my writing. He is the shaman who is assisting me in my cleansing diet and colonics.

    "You are a very good writer," he said to me after he had read the letter about our first work together.

"Well thank you," I said. "The letters are part of the book I'm writing about my life and I'm going to write down everything. Absolutely everything! No shame, I'll tell it all."

    "Of course you will," he replied. "Because shame is based on fear. Fear of judgment. And we have no more fear. We are free!"

    "We sure are," I said. "But I'm not only writing to Jayms, I've also started writing to my sister. I want to become a light in her moments of darkness and depression."

"You will succeed in helping your sister," he said. "You will become a very important light in her life." I needed to hear that from Chalo.

**CHAPTER 21.**

**HELENA**

Playa del Carmen, February 2001

Jayms,

It was the second time in Playa that I cried so much, crying and calling for help out loud, praying.

"Please, help me..." I asked between my sobs, while tears were running down my face. "Come on guys, please...?"

I went down on my knees and buried my face into the bed, leaving a wet spot on the cover.

"I know I'll be okay, but it is so hard sometimes and I'm so tired of doing it all alone. I'm asking for a little help, please...?"

I wasn't thinking of you Jayms. I was asking for help in any way imaginable. The kind of help that would heal the pain I was experiencing.

After yoga class I went to the beach near the Lighthouse, a part of the beach I rarely visit, to look for a friend to talk about some work. I couldn't find him and thinking I had overlooked him, I started to follow the coastline for a second time.

"Paula!" I heard this familiar and overjoyed female voice and there she was.

"Helena!"

One of my best friends from Holland was standing right in front of me and we embraced and kissed and jumped and danced through the sand like little girls. I would love to send you the pieces I wrote about her and me, but they're in Dutch. Right now I'll just tell you that after I had returned from those dark four years in San Francisco and started a new life, she was my first real friend. We have been friends for ten years with many bumpy ups and downs, and we have lived together twice in my house in Holland We know each other through and through.

She did not know where I was living in the Yucatan. It could have been a sleepy colonial town like Valladolid for all she knew, but something had made her decide to come to Playa.

"My God, what a coincidence," she said incredulously.

"Things like this happen everyday here in magical Mayaland," I replied.

"Yes, I felt that too when I was living in Thailand," she responded. "That's because you are happy."

I couldn't agree more, but I also know there's more, so much more. I can talk to her about everything and she respects my beliefs, but most of the time she thinks differently about spiritual matters. She prefers a more scientific approach, although it often comes down to the same thing. We are different in many ways and we are the same in many ways, but there's one thing for sure; there is no one with whom I can party so crazy with as with her. We have had so much fun together. I love her direct and sometimes raunchy sense of humor and the two of us together are quite a sight, believe me.

She is the kind of friend who will travel to the end of the world to rescue me. She is the kind of friend who is afraid I will lose myself when I'm feeling all this love and passion for a man, when I open myself completely like I have done with you.

"You put so much energy into this story you are writing and you get so little in return. How does he feel about you?" she asked carefully.

"To tell you the truth, I don't really know how he feels about me. But I do know that I need to write for myself and he is my creative gate, and I'm grateful for that," I responded.

"Paula, men get scared when a strong woman like you shows them so much attention, especially with the intensity that you have."

"I know Helena, but I cannot present myself as a careful and modest girl, because that's not me. Women are taking charge these days, just look around. Look at yourself. If he doesn't understand that, then he is not the one for me. It's as simple as that."

"I just don't want to see you get hurt," she said.

"Expectations are what gives people disappointments and pain. I have learned to live day by day, following the flow of life, intensely but happily," I said with a confident smile, thinking of my visions.

Helena immediately moved into my small apartment and that should work perfectly, because we know every little habit of each other. She is going to look around to determine if she wants to do her dive instructor's course here in Playa, or in Cancun or maybe even Thailand. Argentina is an option as well, and with her you never really know.

After showing her Playa's exciting nightlife we ended up in that funky bar that is run by that funny looking Italian, remember? Guess who was working behind the bar? Catherine, Patrick's girlfriend! They are living in Playa now as well. They are still working with Funkytours, and having done some promotional work in Montreal, business should pick up a little for them. I had not seen or talked to Catherine since that morning in Tulum when I was looking for you. She immediately asked what had happened and was so happy for me that you and I had shared some truly beautiful moments. We exchanged addresses and phone numbers, happy to be in touch again. Girlfriends, that's the help I really needed and prayed for, and that's what I've got. Gracias.

I wish you will find the clarity to make the choices that will give you happiness and peace of mind, because you sure don't sound like you have it right now. I certainly will sit at the beach and send you some inspirational thoughts, as the sea carries that energy well. By the way, what is an esl teaching course, the course you wrote about? I think I've heard about it somewhere, but...

PS: I just went to dinner with Helena, Patrick and Benoit. Patrick had just arrived from Palenque, tired from the long drive, but happy to be here and to see his lovely woman, who we were going to rescue from a hundred and fifty dollars a month slave existence behind the bar. We'd rather go hungry. I had not seen Patrick for a long time and he too immediately asked what had happened after that passionate letter from Tulum. He loved the story.

"So why is he not here?" Patrick asked.

"Because he is in San Francisco fooling around, trying to gain some sense of his world and decide what he wants to do with the rest of his life," I replied.

"Well traveling of course!" Patrick said.

"I know, that's his heart and his soul, his passion in life."

"I'll write him an email to come down here and start working with us. He's up there like a pilot without a plane."

"Yes, I know. I think he will get more inspiration here in Mexico than in foggy San Francisco."

"Hey listen, I'm having some friends coming over next week and we're gonna have a special gathering in Tulum. Do you want to come and join us?" Patrick asked.

"Oh, that would be wonderful. I'll bring something special too and my stereo and some nice music. Jayms should be there with us," I answered.

"Can't he just buy a ticket, does he have any money?"

"I have absolutely no idea Patrick. He tells me very little you know, a man of few words."

"Well, he should be here with us," he said.

"Yes, he should..."

_... no email..._

Jayms,

We all went to a nice beach party at Xcalacoco last night with Patrick's van. A little smoke, funky music, nice friends and the image of your face were enough to keep me dancing under the stars until the early morning. Helena left early. She didn't like the party. Likely not enough mind altering substances and it was too dark.

Knowing each other's habits is not enough to be around each other for a long time. I do love this woman, but here in Playa it has become more obvious than ever that the way we experience the world and the people around us are star systems apart. I grow more and more silent when she talks and tells me stories about other people, her life and travels that I perceive in a completely different way. I notice a growing difficulty in listening to her when she talks in such a judgmental way about others, without taking the responsibility to have a good look at herself. Instead she blames every person and every situation for everything that's not working in her life.

That's just the way it is. I love her just the same and hope she will be happy in Thailand, where she is going next Saturday. In the meantime she wants to visit Palenque.  I will probably be going there in two weeks with Patrick and Catherine. We need to recharge. I think she'll like it better there, but Thailand is where she really feels at home, just as I feel at home in Mexico or Brazil.

The further I distance myself from Helena, the closer I feel to Catherine and Patrick. What a beautiful couple they are, truly beautiful people, creative, wise and witty. Next week I'm taking them to Sacbe, the jungle village in the first stages of construction. They will swim in the 'cenotes' and dive from a rock into the lake. The temple will show itself from behind the trees and the tree houses that are already built will invitingly ask them to climb up the ladder and enjoy the view. I've been dreaming for so long of spending a night there with you, just you and me and the orchestra of the jungle.

You know I have many interests in life, and astrology is one of them. I always find it such a shame when people brush it off as lighthearted fortune telling, when it can be an incredibly interesting and useful tool in your life. I see it as a kind of rough guide, a blueprint or map of your character and talents, as well as providing themes where you can explore yourself, and thereby thrive by being all you can be. I have some friends that know a lot about it, so I'm learning a little here and there. I find it helpful and sometimes comforting to know and understand what the underlying forces are. Anyway, I think I've found an interesting story for you during this confusing period in your life. I've attached it in this email. I hope it will bring you some different insights and understanding. And I would still like to know your birthday, because I'm curious what turns a homey cancer into a traveler in heart and soul.

**CHAPTER 22.**

**IT IS TIME**

Playa del Carmen, February 2001

You know Jayms, you have not written to say that you've had enough of my letters or my attention and I'm not going to read between the lines or speculate on your silences, so until you tell me not to I will continue to share this amazing woman with you.

The Universe forced me down on my knees to pray and ask for help, just to learn that you do get help when you really ask for it and that it had to come from my sisters. I also needed to share this vulnerable side of me with you. And I also needed to feel what it is like to miss you. Unfortunately, that feeling did not disappear with the tears. I really have this feeling that you are missing in my life and I know that one of these days I will see you again and whenever that will be, it will be the perfect time.

Helena asked me the other day why I like it so much in Playa, as if truly interested in something she was not able to share with me.

"I like it here because it feels like home, a place where I have my spiritual family who totally understand and appreciate me and love me for who I really am. I love the energy here, it's magic. I love the language and the mystical Mayan culture. I love the Latin passion that I feel running through my veins. I have the moves and the face of these southern cultures, which makes it unable for people to place me. Helena, when men look at you here, it makes you feel dirty. When men look at me here, I feel appreciated and respected, because I think that they see me as fierce, beautiful and proud. I know that you don't find it charming when I talk about myself and other women as strong and beautiful, but I don't want to be fucking charming. I want to stir and I want to shock and it's time that somebody starts telling the truth. I don't see myself living here for the rest of my life, there are too many beautiful places to be explored, but it's a nice start and it's home right now."

Helena also asked me why I love you.

"Because he gives me this feeling that he really understands me, that he knows where I'm coming from, what moves me in life, what passions ignite my fire. I had that feeling the second time I talked to him in the Blue Parrot. I was just looking at him while he was staring across the bar and I knew. I just knew. I can't explain this. I just knew that this was the man with whom I could share my life. With this man I could fulfill my dreams. It just makes me smile and all happy and so shining when I think of Jayms and that I have finally found him and that we are going to be so happy and create a kind of love that we both have never felt before. And that's why I love him and I'll wait for him until he has decided to open himself to my love. Helena, It's a knowing from deep down inside I just can't explain."

Helena hates Mexico and Playa, but she has made me realize how much I love it here and that this is really home for me in every imaginable way. She doesn't understand the love I feel for you and she has tried to warn me that I could get hurt, but it has only made me stronger in my belief in you.

Suddenly my small freelance business is picking up again and that takes some pressure off my mind. Last night I had a most interesting conversation, well maybe it was more of a presentation of myself and my mission to this man Jack. He owns a few condominiums at 'Sacbe Condos'.

Tom, a very dear friend of mine and an important pillar in 'Pueblo Sacbe', had talked about me to Jack, who was now interested in getting to know me. Jack is building 'Villas Sacbe', which are luxurious apartments, but totally integrated with nature and the jungle and Mayan art, and he needs high-level management to maintain and rent them. They're absolutely beautiful, just imagine okay?

So, I told Jack that I'm an environmental engineer and for the past four years have actively been studying and participating in shamanistic rituals and spiritual Light work. I told him how the Universe had sent me to Playa - and with the Universe you don't get into a discussion - and that Playa and 'Pueblo Sacbe' are my home now. I told him that I wanted to return to Holland in May to present my business plan and find investors because I know quite a few influential and rich people in Holland and in the United States who have known me for a long time and believe in me and the things I do. God knows I will get the money. I started talking and my words and sentences rolled out of my mouth so smooth and energized.

"Jack, I want to buy a piece of land in 'Pueblo Sacbe' and built the most beautiful tree houses you have ever seen. I will explain my business concept. Just as you can buy a vacation with beach time and airfare, people can buy a vacation with me, but this is a complete cultural and spiritual trip for the very rich who have a strong interest in spirituality. First they will have a few days in Playa, staying in the beautiful condos and penthouses of 'Villas Sacbe', enjoying leisure beach time, wining and dining. Then there will be a trip to Mayan ruins, like Chichen Itza, Uxmal and Palenque and San Cristobal. They will be soaked in Mayan mysteries, staying in the most beautiful hotels, but also sleeping in hammocks with the indigenous people. There will be a private plane to fly them because a millionaire does not sit in a van for ten hours or more, and I have already met the pilot with his own plane, who's name is Jesus. Then they will come back to Playa, to the jungle into these incredible tree houses, which every grownup dreams of. There they will start cleansing with an individualized special diet, while practicing yoga and meditation, having massages and energy work, exercising in a playful Tarzan-like way, having adventures like 'cenote' diving for the real experts and thrill seekers, and doing anything that is available or necessary to cleanse physically and mentally. The cleansing is in preparation for the end of the trip: a vision quest. This can last one night or up to one week, depending on the group. They will experience nature with a shaman or with me, using music, breathing techniques and sacred plants to invoke the journey and the visions. I want to offer this, so people can have the opportunity to rediscover and remember who they really are and where they really come from, so they can start to heal themselves and therefore be able to heal other people. It will have a snowball effect. And this place is just the beginning. I want to do this all over the world. And the beautiful thing is that I've found the man with whom I can do all this; share my dream and my mission with. He is a travel guide who knows so much about these Latin cultures, who knows many special places, who is excellent in guiding groups, making people feel comfortable and he understands the processes that work in groups that are traveling."

"I can see where you are coming from. Tom speaks very highly of you," Jack said.

"He does? That's nice to hear, the feelings are mutual. I just want you to know that I have many skills, I'm excellent in organizing and managing, I speak many languages, so I think it's good for you to know that I'm available and interested in anything that has something to do with 'Pueblo Sacbe' or 'Villas Sacbe' and we will see how we can work together in the future."

With a little help from the planetary forces I was able to present myself in a way that caught Jack's interest and he said that we would talk again soon when we both had some more time. I felt I had done well.

So Jayms, what more can I say? I've said it all and I'm not finished yet. I can tell you that you can take your time to decide what you want to do, but I really think it's time to come down here. It's been seven weeks now and I think that is a beautiful number. I know you have enjoyed and taken care of unfinished stories in San Francisco and it's time to move on, to start the rest of your life that is going to be so glorious and so rich and filled with nothing but love.

**CHAPTER 23.**

**THE LITTLE BITCH**

Playa del Carmen, March 2001

Jayms,

It was full moon and as usual I couldn't sleep.  This had been the case since I moved to Mexico. I felt a building of tension as a kind of energy, an energy that is feminine and fluid and full of emotions. I felt anger and indifference, I felt fire and a cold distance, I felt compassion and ruthlessness, all rising and sinking in these lunar tides that I had become so sensitive to.

The situation with Helena went from bad to worse and when she returned from Tulum last Friday, I left the apartment as soon as I could to avoid an ugly clash with a controlled fury I felt within my body. I blurted out that it had something to do with the full moon and left her angry and unable to change the situation. I wandered the streets and the beaches for hours, talked to friends, felt emotional but good and didn't return home until the early morning. When I woke up, Helena was gone, but her suitcases were still there, ready for the journey to Thailand. I had slept very little, but I felt rested and calm and ready to talk to Helena. When she came back, I felt an icy coldness and asked her if we could talk.

"Sure," she said.

"I'm sorry that I left the house last night in such a state, but for the last three days I was convinced that you had taken my six favorite CD's without asking," I said calmly. I know that if she had asked me I would have said no, because having her take CD's and not returning them had been an issue between us in the past.  The CD's were from limited editions, they were not mine and she is the most chaotic person on the planet I know and she is traveling on top of that. "But it was stupid of me not to understand that when you wanted to borrow the CD carrying case, you were in fact also asking to borrow the CD's that were in there.  What was I thinking?" I lied.

"Yes exactly, I remember very well that I asked you," she said with an iron face.

I am usually able to remember complete conversations, word for word and write them down, but I simply cannot recall my response clearly. It was something like: 'I must be smoking too much, my darling Helena'. She continued with a vengeance.

"I don't know what is wrong with you, but you close me out with your energy. You look so stressed, so crazed with getting attention, so obsessed with this asshole. That jerk should get a punch in the face! If he wants you he should come down here on his knees with hundreds of flowers in his arms and beg for you. He's not worth a woman like you." She paused for a moment to see how I was taking her statements and then continued. "I want to read this letter to you that I wrote last night. It will explain better how I feel about you, okay?"

"Go ahead," I said calmly. "I'm listening."

She started reading and I listened without uttering a single word.

_Dear Paula,_

_I have to write this down, because I know that if I tell you this, you will argue or you will get mad because this is the last thing you want to hear: I think that you have a major problem and that you degrade your whole life by running after men that only want to fuck you one time because you are so easy to get. But they don 't get rid of you that easily, on the contrary. You overwhelm them with letters that penetrate deeply, and you are trying to crawl into his circle of friends and sphere of activity. On top of that you are taking pictures to send to him to prove that you've made it._

_That is the most disgusting way of intruding into someone 's private life._

Although you do this without thinking, imagine how terrible this is for someone. And about his friends, well he hasn't talked to his friends for a while, so they don't really know if you are his girlfriend or not, so they can do nothing but believe all these inventions of yours. This whole relationship is only in your head. This boy has not given any response if he is the man for you. Anyway, I do know that a few times he did not show up (she is referring to the time at Lima when you could not make it because of your group), without any notice and that would mean to me that he really is not that interested in you, or else he would show up. If you are so spiritual and believe in signs and clues, why don't you see this indication, because it is a very clear one, as clear as crystal. You don't see it and don't want to see it. From early in the morning until late at night your days are filled with fantasies about him. If you do something else, you hurry to a computer to tell him that you stand in life as a beautiful woman, have experienced something very special and certainly are not just thinking of him. And when you were doing something with someone else, you can talk about nothing but him. Of course you will go flat on your face, you are asking for it!

_I do want to point this out to you, because I think and I hope that it will be helpful to you. And when we are walking down the street I can see that you find it so incredibly important what people think of you, and you don 't look like Paula anymore. You are so tense. You are secretly trying to bewitch Patrick and you can't pull that. It is vulgar how you do that. _

(She obviously is not aware of the fact that 'flirting' is a true art form that has nothing to do with sex or seduction and she is certainly not aware of the fact that it is Catherine that I find so beautiful and feel attracted to.)

_I also think that you disguise and exaggerate everything. Not everything in life can be so beautiful and if you could accept that, then the beautiful becomes much more beautiful and the real more real. Then you don 't have to disguise anything, because it's really like that. Then you don't have to do anything anymore for other people, to make it look more beautiful, because it doesn't matter what 'they' will think, because then you will feel real peace and happiness from inside!_

_Maybe you just like show and glamour._ (Maybe? My darling, scientifically speaking, my DNA is programmed to shine like a 'Star' and this 'Star' happens to simply love the glamour and the admiring attention that comes from her audience.) _  Why don't you first start loving yourself, because then you won't be so dependent on all this attention that you are looking so hard for. If you are not dependent on that, then you can't be broken, because a man will become a pleasant addition to your life. _

(Pleasant? That sounds like 'charming', my dear. I want intense, burning, and passionate love and lust.)

_When you make it appear as almost everything in your life is very beautiful and special, that is the moment when people will think that the opposite is true, because why would your life and your encounters be constantly very special. The contrary is usually the case, and it looks obsessive, certainly in Holland, because people know that you have had difficulties in your life. What are you trying to prove? It seems that what you experience all the time, is something a normal person would experience maybe two or three times in their life time. So people quickly will draw the conclusion that the opposite must be true, that is, anyone who has a little bit of analytical insight._

_I don 't know where all of this is coming from, but just try to let yourself be loved, before you put all this energy into it on the long run, because that could be the True One and then you know for sure that he will go for you. Be very critical!_

_I notice that the criticisms that you have asked for and that I 've given you, are being blown in the wind. Not right now, but maybe in two days everything will turn back to the old. Just be a little more honest with yourself and put all your energy into yourself."_

I did not say a thing.

"Wow, I'm surprised that you are taking this so calmly," she said. "You are not happy. I can just see it and I just want to help, you know. It hurts me to see you like this." A few tears rolled down her face and she embraced me. I looked hurt and timid and allowed her to play her favorite drama role as the rescuer. Just before I was about to leave the apartment she picked out a beautiful long black evening gown with a low cut back from my wardrobe.

"You've had this dress for a while to copy as it fits you so perfectly, but I want it back now because it was a very expensive dress and this one I did not steal."

 I knew where she got the dress and it was no more than 75 dollars. I also knew that the hole from the torn out security tag was there when I got the dress, for I had sown it up it myself with needle and thread.

"Sure," I said and a muffled moan escaped from my throat for losing that perfect black dress.

I lied to her that I had to work and left as soon as possible after a quick goodbye, which included wishing her the best in Thailand. I needed to be alone. I needed to analyze everything she had said to me and determine if I could learn from it. I did feel a little shaken by all her strong statements. I had not heard anything like this nor had anyone talked to me like this since I moved to Mexico. It made me think of many people in Holland who thought little of me, and who really did not know the real me.

While I was listening to Helena I could just hear my authoritative father who was a master with words and manipulations, anything to smother the expressions and passions of a 'Woman who runs with the Wolves'.

I went to the sun terrace at 'Sacbe Condos' because it is private, it has a beautiful view and I can lie there in the nude. Suddenly my dear friend Arturo, the astrologer and Tarot Master from North Mexico appeared in front of me. For a second I sensed his hesitation as I was naked, but soon we embraced like two old Aquarian friends. I asked him if he had some time to listen to my story, because I felt a little confused and I started to cry. Suddenly I felt like a little girl who was being attacked, a little girl who was only trying to do good, to do the right thing. I saw this child who was growing up and recovering from a twisted and unnatural childhood, hungry for love, fighting to become the true woman who knows who she is, only to be beaten down and stepped upon for trying to live and make mistakes.

That hurt. While I was wiping my tears, Arturo started to talk. "You are so sweet, you are such a wonderful woman and so sweet. I want you to know that I will always be there for you as a friend and I feel very blessed that you trust me enough to show this vulnerable side of yourself and can let your tears flow."

We talked about Helena and the things she had said and written down for me. She had become the living proof that I was and could not be living from fear anymore, but had found the opposite source to express myself in life. I was grateful to her for presenting a mirror for me in her own little charming way. It had become so clear that this story with Helena was a part of my old world that had no more place in my new life, a life filled with joy, love and laughter and an incredible faith in life and the Universe, a life filled with inspiration and creativity to make it work, and the belief and the power to make it work, because anything is possible.

She had left me a little goodbye note that said: "I wish you the very best and know that your dreams can come true. Ignore what other people think of you, as long as you know that you are number one. Love forever Helena." The little bitch. I love her just the same.

"But what do I do with Jayms? I don't know what to think anymore. Should I stop writing? Maybe he opens his emails and thinks: Oh my God, another three page letter, not again," I said.

"No, don't think like that," Arturo said. "Don't pull yourself down like that. You write so beautifully. Any man would feel honored to receive letters that come from the depths of your soul, from your passion for life and your love for the light. He just needs some time. His sign is cancer and these people are very sensitive and often insecure and find it hard to trust someone."

"Yes, I remember him saying to me the first night he spent with me in Playa that it would take a long time to get to know him. I told him that I would like to take that time, because I knew it would be worthwhile. I know it will be. I know it is," I said.

"He still feels like a little boy," Arturo continued. "He doesn't know his potential yet and he is doubting his worth. He has talents and gifts that he is unaware of or has yet to discover and you are helping him ground all of this into something solid. As his mother gave birth to this creative love as a boy, you are giving birth to his love as a man. Only then can these energies merge."

"I love to see this magic circle of San Francisco coming around. The city that almost killed me is also the city that brings me the love that is healing me. If it can kill, it can heal," I said.

"Just continue to be yourself. You have so much love to give. Just be that beautiful queen that you are, because you shine so bright," Arturo said.

Jayms, I understand that it must bring you such confusing thoughts that there is a woman far away who feels so much love for you and who can see in far away visions that many cannot touch yet. It is beautiful and scary at the same time. I know. Believe me, I know. I understand the fear of love.

"Yeah right, give me a break. He'll get over it soon!" I heard the Sea priestess sneering.

**CHAPTER 24.**

**TRIP TO THE UNKNOWN**

_hey....how are you chica???   been reading all your mails... i was up in canada doing trip... sounds like you have been having fun and some drama!!! whats up with helena!!! doing another trip out of of s.f tomorrow to yosemite... then another next week.. dont know what i am doing for my life though!!!!!  still thinking... i hope you are doing well..  i know i have been a bit aloof,,, we are so far apart i guess, and i dont know what im doing right now about fringe tours and about work  right now...when are you back to holland??? hear from you soon... love jayms_

Hey Chico,

Good to hear from you again. This morning was the first time I had a very clear dream about you. I could see you walking. I could see your face and your eyes. In my dream you came looking for me, but you showed little emotion and that made me feel insecure.

In Playa many things are happening at such an incredible speed, that I can hardly keep up with my writing. With pen and paper that is, because I have five dollars left and no spare change as I have spent it for hours and hours of typing in Internet cafes. I'll be working in two days and my friends at 'Sacbe' are taking care of me, so I'm hanging in.

As soon as financially possible I'll send you the rest of my writing, which is all about work and ideas and offers and opportunities that are happening in my life. It's exciting, I can tell you that.

You have been doing some trips, are you still thinking of doing that one in Mexico with your old company? At this point I can't really say when I'll be going back to Holland. It depends on a few things that are playing out right now. My visa expires on April the 18th.

So far apart! Home is where the heart is.

I hope you are doing well too and I truly wish that you will find some inspiration to find out what you want to do.

Love Paula

_...no email..._

Hi Jayms,

The situation is like this: I really have to go back to Holland in about two to three weeks.

Now I want to ask you the following: If it's financially possible for you, could you come to Playa for a week or so after your next trip? In that way I can show you everything at 'Pueblo Sacbe' and introduce you to my friends there. We have some time to talk about everything I've been writing, just be together and spent a few days in the jungle. I'll probably be returning to Playa in about six months, so that should give you plenty of time to think.

Either way I need to know because I have to book my flight as soon as possible. If you're not coming for whatever reason, we could try to get together again after the summer. If you think you can make it, let me know when you want to come and until when you want to stay, so I'll know when to book my flight. Please let me know as soon as possible. Paula

hey... how are you??... cannot come down soon...  going out of boston for an interview of sorts, but cant get to mex now... dont know if i am running next trip in april to mex??? hope you are well... love jayms

Hey Chico,

I was surprised at how relaxed and in full acceptance I took the news that you are not coming to Playa, because I sure did have hope and steamy fantasies. I know that life is absolutely perfect the way it is, as is the fact that we won't be seeing each other. Yet. The exact reason I don't know, although I have some thoughts on it and as soon as the picture gets more detailed I'll draw you some lines.

I don't know if I'll be writing you that much from now on, because I know I'll start to write more in Dutch, since I'll be thinking and dreaming in Dutch again. And I'll be so busy, already thinking of a million things to do. You know all about that, although I don't forsee any unexpected ski-trips. But who knows what other trips the future has in store for me. A few to the realms of the Unknown are planned so far. Maybe a long weekend at a Spiritual Spa in the fifth dimension, you know which one I mean, 11th star system on your right, three spirals to the outer limits, through the violet frequency layer and you're almost there. No, I don't think you know that one. Anyway, if you feel like you need to recharge, just mention my name to any Angel that crosses your path at that moment, recite the directions and they'll get you there, even escort you. What a service hey?

So what kind of interview in Boston is this of sorts? Where are you living now? I don't know if you are coming to the neighborhood of Playa at all in these coming months, but if you do you should really go see Tom and Ted and ask them to take you to 'Pueblo Sacbe' in the jungle. Patrick knows them, so you can ask him too. You'll fall in love with the place, just like I did.

You ask me how I am and Jayms, I'm doing well, really well.

PS: Could you send me another picture of yourself? I mean, I don't mind showing my mother and my sister and my girlfriends your desert sessions (especially my gay friends would absolutely love them!), but I don't know if you are an exhibitionist as I am.

**CHAPTER 25.**

**MORE BUTTERFLIES**

Playa del Carmen, March 2001

Dear Jayms,

Maybe Helena's written masterpiece gave you the impression that my days are filled with talking and fantasizing about you, but then the basket with groceries from the supermarkt of Life would be quite empty and with little variety, don't you agree?

From early morning until late at night I'm busy thinking of how to 'make' my life work here. After I have thought of something, discussed the idea with a friend or two, I make it happen. I take a ride on my red vehicle to the print shop to order business cards and make the choice of a colorful purple card with elegant yellow letters. It just spells 'Paula' with a sun, moon and stars embracing my name in the middle. It has written 'healing massages' and 'babysitter' on the top and at the bottom my cellular and email. Simple and sweet. I could have added 'language instructor', as I started working as a private English teacher at the language school 'Playalingua', three times a week at flexible hours.

I have visited a few nice hotels on 1st and 5th Avenue to explain what kind of services I can provide and I leave a couple of cards. All were interested and more than once I heard: "I wish we had known about you before, because three days ago/last week I had some guests that were looking for someone to look after their children."

Well, that certainly sounded promising. I also figured that this could be done on a bigger scale, having small colorful flyers printed and leaving them at every tourist place I can think of. The big resorts, of which there are about twenty, don't provide this kind of service and I know there is a demand for it. I will start with the four Riu Hotels that I used to work for. I thought I could make an appointment with the director and talk with her about this concept. I could then set up a contract with these hotels, organize a whole service and have girls work for me who speak a few languages and who love to be with children. I know it can work. I just have to get some more information on the legal procedures and then it's just a matter of making it happen. The next step is creating a kind of daycare center and maybe even integrating this concept with a place for Mayan toddlers, so their mothers have an opportunity to work or educate themselves.

This idea was conceived after I had talked to Arturo on the rooftop.  I had written down everything and then felt relieved and ready to start the rest of my new life. That same night I had dinner with Danny, a good friend of mine who has lived here for more than ten years. His business is going well and he needs someone who can help him out with writing letters and setting up administrative systems. We'll take time to talk about it some time next week.

That same night I was thinking about 'Tarzan village', as Tom lovingly calls it. How do we get there? It's a waste of time to just wait until there is enough money to finally do something. Let it grow, let it be created, day by day, hand by hand, together, with whatever means we have. I thought of Rakshita's place at 'El Panchan' and how her paradise had been created by many people, friends and artists who all had contributed in their own way to make the place work. Why wouldn't that recipe work here at Sacbe? I know there must be so many travelers and backpackers that would simply love to stay in a place that takes an experience in the jungle a step further. They could work in the gardens or help built a tree house in return for a space to hang their hammock or set up a tent and enjoy a healthy meal from the kitchen garden. The rest of the time they can hang out on a piece of property that is as magic it gets. They can see and learn how a self-sustaining ecological village works, and to recreate the way the Mayans lived at least seven hundred years ago. We would like to use some high tech equipment though, powered by solar and wind energy. Internet access won't be any problem whatsoever. Why not get some archaeology and ecology students over here and do some research? What about environmental organizations? It's just a matter of sending some emails to the right people. The ideas started pouring and this was just the beginning.

The next morning I took my bike to 'Sacbe Condos' to see Tom and his lovely partner Joanne to find out if Tom had any time to take Patrick and his friends to the jungle.

"I think tomorrow should be okay. We'll leave at eleven o'clock," Tom said.

"Oh wonderful, thank you Tom."

"Anytime sweetheart," he replied.

I talked a little with Joanne and for some reason astrology became the subject of our conversation. She reads the same astrologists as I do, but this month's forecast she had not gotten hold of yet.

"What is your sign?" I asked her.

"My sign is Cancer," she said.

"Oh, but I have that one with me, because Jayms' sign is cancer too."

"Can I read it?" she asked.

"Of course, you can keep it as long as you need it. I always need to read it a couple of times to figure out which interpretations apply to my life and which ones are not relevant in my situation," I said.

Joanne started to read out loud a few sentences that were playing in her life and as I was listening to her story I realized that her situation was so different from yours and yet the same forces were driving the same themes in the same direction.

"Paula, you'll have to keep this confidential. Nobody knows this yet and you understand that I have to tell the other condo owners myself, but I'm resigning from my position as the Administrator of 'Sacbe Condos'," Joanne said.

"And you are still interested in that position?" Tom asked me with a smile.

This was not by far the end of this creative idea generation, thanks to Mercury and Uranus doing a tango with Aquarius. We are talking of a major meeting of the energies of two highly intellectual planets. When this happens there is a tendency that you come up with new business ideas or that you feel unusually creative. At least it's a comfort to know why I'm juggling ideas that keep my head spinning until late at night and why I'm spending all my money typing at the Internet café's. Oh well, who gives a shit. It's happening anyway, whether you understand it or not. And it's great. Or should I say it's not so great, in order to find out that great can be greater!

After this intellectual and creative meeting I took my bike to the hotel where Patrick and his friends were staying. I informed Patrick about the coming jungle tour and mentioned the idea of getting travelers and backpackers to a place in the jungle, only twenty minutes from Playa, but out of reach of any traffic noise.

"This could be interesting," Patrick said.

I couldn't wait to see his face when he would actually see the property as Tom gave him the grand tour.

Early the next morning I went to meet with Tom, because I wanted to share more ideas that I had been generating. I entered the small apartment next to the only 'cenote' on 5th Avenue.

"Hi Tom, how are you?" I said and I gave him a kiss.

"Much better now," he said with this twinkle in his eyes.

"Me too," I replied.

"Listen, these friends of yours, are they potential buyers?" he asked.

"No, Patrick has his own tour company called Funkytours. They are funky people with funky tours and I can feel they will understand what we want to do with 'Pueblo Sacbe'. I think there is a possibility that we can work together. Do you remember that first letter I wrote to Jayms?"

"Yes, I remember," he said with a grin on his face.

"Well, I'm talking about 'that' Patrick."

"So he's a friend of Jayms?"

"Well Tom, the funny thing is that they have met only once at Aqua Azul. Just two guys with the same passion in life; sitting in the shade, waiting for their groups. And both talked about each other in a way that made me believe they were good friends. I guess there was a special connection."

"I got the picture," Tom said and I realized he knew exactly what kind of tour to give.

As I was sitting across the street from 'Sacbe Condos', enjoying a cappuccino and waiting for Patrick and his friends, I thought of the last time I went to the jungle with Tom. We had dropped off two Canadian girls who were going to spend the night in the tree house. Tom's jungle born Dalmatian mix Oc, which means foot companion, had led us to the Enchanted Lake and for an hour or so we floated on small neon green air matrasses while we talked or just listened to the sound of the wind touching the treetops, softly brushing through the leaves that incited the birds to sing. As Tom was doing some energy work on my body, it became obvious that the fruits of many years of serious spiritual work were getting riper by the day.

"It doesn't get any better than this," Tom said.

"No it doesn't Tom. This is just a perfect moment at a perfect time in a perfect place. And the beautiful thing is that it's only getting better, way better," I said with a secretive grin.

"Oh yes it does," Tom said with even more twinkles in his eyes.

As Tom and I were making our way back to the car along the side of this mysterious lake, quite a few butterflies appeared in front of us, most of them sunny yellow and orange. I asked Tom if he knew anything about the symbolism of butterflies, because three days before I had found a really big butterfly in front of my door. It was lying there and didn't move. I carefully picked her up, still able to feel the warmth from her soft and silky body. Apparently she had just died, so I laid her down on my altar and burnt a candle and some incense, knowing that someone would shine some light on this butterfly. On the outside she was covered with different camouflage colors, being able to completely blend in with her environment, but the inside was colored with every shade of orange and peach. I knew it had something to do with the cleansing diet I was on at that time.

"Butterflies are the symbol of transformation," Tom said. "So it's clear what is happening Paula. You are so open and such a free spirit. You have this fierceness in the way you move through life, this sensuality with which you tease, and you have this twinkle in your eyes that makes it impossible to tell whether you're serious or not. Anything is possible with you and I love that about you. You are like a chameleon, feeling comfortable in any situation with any kind of person, dirt poor or filthy rich, because you've been there and done that. You are real and tell the truth, not any truth through some philosophical book, but your own experienced truth. You are a leader in this, Paula. You are like an angel. But an angel who gives the best hugs and has the most beautiful ass in Playa!"

As we drove slowly over the rocky path, we got a good look at these beautiful air flowers of the jungle. At the same moment I was thinking about you, two yellow colored dancers appeared in front of the car, spiraling fast around each other and at that moment I knew I would hear from you that day. For three long weeks I had not received a single word from you, so when I checked my emails that evening, I finally found the long awaited...

Ah, and then I saw Patrick. The sight of his beautiful tall black figure woke me from my daydreams. He was not alone. A few friends had followed in his track, including the beautiful Catherine. I was looking forward to our trip.

**CHAPTER 26.**

**PLAY THAT FUNKY MUSIC**

Playa del Carmen, March 2001

Dearest Mother Mary,

You too, my beautiful friend, have been an angel, a light and guidance at awkward moments, be it in Holland or abroad. Slowly I have come to realize how much of a source of inspiration we have been to each other, how much we are supporting each other in becoming glorious goddesses that we truly are, hidden under all those too human flaws of fear and insecurity. We've come a long, long way and we have gained back so much already. Never forget that you were one of the very first people who recognized the light in this child and ever so gently and subtly, as is best with children, began to tickle and caress this light. You did this so well that only years later, after going steadily on my path, did I realize what you had been doing. Little things that you said, I have so often thought of in certain situations. But then again, I was the one who heard your words and took them with me. It is only natural that you do the work that you do, it is what you came here for; to heal children. And besides your incredible sense of understanding and compassion and your highly intelligent and analytical mind, you master an artistic expression of your creativity that is quite rare. Know that I feel honored that the heroine you painted for your children's book has my features.

And Mary, don't you think it's sexy that we can add a title to our name? We know it doesn't mean shit, but it makes a difference in this world. The mind we used to get the damn thing was destined to be used to heal, in any way we can. Might as well play the game.

Anyway, here in Playa it's goodbye time. Suddenly, I mean really suddenly, it hit me. I have to go back to Holland. Soon. I don't know why, but until a few days ago Holland was a far away place I might visit sometime in May. Maybe I was waiting for things to happen, good and exciting things concerning 'Pueblo Sacbe' and people who are going to help me fulfill my mission, but I didn't realize that that was not going to be in Playa. My work is done here for now, and I have to continue my quest in Holland. Only now I understand why it had to go so bad financially. I'm forced to go back to Holland, because otherwise I would have stayed, for sure, much longer than necessary. It is better that I use the good position of my planets for business while I can. It was quite an experience to live from one ten-dollar bill to the next. And it's no fun, I can tell you that. All the faith that I'll be okay and the knowing that I'm going to be rich some day, does not take away that anxious feeling, no matter how subtle it's presence. Stress has resulted in my jaw and molars hurting from biting in my sleep and I think there is a nasty infection. Do you know what this means exactly? I have been eating like crazy which I always do when I'm not happy, although my period started as well. I gained all the weight I lost with the cleanse so I'm back to normal. True, my legs and ass were perfect, but my breasts became smaller and my arms and shoulders became skinny. I think I prefer the way I am right now, a little voluptuous. I'm a Burgundian anyway; I love to eat, all day long. And I can't fail to notice that men love to watch a woman who enjoys her food. It probably makes them think of what else she enjoys with such relish.

You know what made me so restless as well? The fact that I couldn't write this story about the jungle to Jayms. As if that would make him decide to come to Playa. (Yeah right, Dragon darling, think again!) So I found a few coins in a little box, enough to spent a couple of hours at a cheap Internet place on the other side of town. What do you think, the stupid computer crashed after two hours! With the restless and aggressive mood I was in, I left the place furious. They even wanted me to pay. I was livid! Yes, I know, I'm a little slow sometimes. It took me a few hours to realize that this was the Universe talking: "Hello Lady, yes you down there. Absolutely fabulous what you're doing darling and your writing and all, but hello, no more writing to Jayms. Got that. To be continued... and that's it guapa!"

Well, you know how these conversations go. I was uninspired anyway, as I didn't have all the information yet and it would take me days and days to capture that magic in words. Jayms just has to feel the place for himself. Of course I hope he will be here in time to meet Tom and receive the grand tour, because Tom and Joanne are leaving the 3rd of April to attend Joanne's sister's wedding. If Jayms cannot come it seems something very important of my journey to Mexico is unfinished. On the other hand I know that if not now, I'll see him after the summer and that would be the perfect time.

People want to believe me and I think they do, but sometimes I can hear a growing doubt in their voices.

"If nothing else, Jayms is the one that got you writing again. If that's the pact you made it sure worked," Tom said the other day.

"True, I even started writing in English, which I didn't even know I was capable of. But I can feel it here Tom, I just know it, there have been too many signs," I said.

"Well, the signs sure worked, they got you writing and you had some great sex," Tom grinned.

Yes Mary, I had great sex. God it was so incredibly beautiful, but I haven't had any since my birthday. Of course I enjoyed many moments of self- pleasuring, always seeing the same image of Jayms kissing me, touching me, fucking me, holding my face in his hands, whispering the words with his warm and husky voice: I love you child. It still surprises me that these simple words can get me horny as hell. But these are just moments, all too short. I long for hours and hours and hours of lovemaking. I long for a warm, strong body. I long for passionate kisses and loving touch. It's been too long.

At first I didn't like the idea of going back at all, because I was afraid that reactions like Helena's or simply the sometimes too 'down to earthiness' of my culture would disturb my light, but I know now that won't be the case, because I am choosing not to let that happen. It will be a challenge though, at times. It makes me think of what my friends used to say after we'd finished doing spiritual light work and were still sensitive and all open to different energies and I'd be getting ready for the next spiritual work: a heavy techno party at an obscure squad house. They were all worried that dark energies would enter my sensitive aura, but I knew that I would shine so bright, completely recharged, that nothing could disturb me. That's how I feel about it, but I will surely need your guidance and faith at times.

After the first day I started thinking about going back, I began to see the positive things in doing so, and after the second day I saw even more and now I can hardly wait. I'm looking forward to seeing you again (and definitely spend a few days at your new place), and to see my sister and my mom and my girlfriends. I'm looking forward to going to a good health food store, seeing a few movies, smelling the spring flowers and the blossoms on the trees, dancing at a good techno party and taking ecstasy. I'm looking forward to doing my ceremonies and spiritual work again, because I've done only one ritual with mushrooms in Palenque. And I'm certainly looking forward to starting a new career; something I've never done before and I know I'll be so good at it. But this insecure little girl sure needs your support and your advice. So do continue to tell me that I will raise the money with a twinkle of my eye. We're dragons and we need to be praised and admired like no one else.

Today I went to find out about some flights and the best deal I could find was on Friday the 30th of March. If Jayms doesn't come, that's when I'll leave. It will be exactly three(!) years ago that I came back from my Brazilian adventure. After my visit to the travel agency I got a call for babysitting. A good sign. Since I was out I took the opportunity to go to a nearby hotel and talk with the director about my babysitting service (what do you think of the name 'Guardian Angel'?) and she thought it was a great idea and would propose it at a meeting. At this hotel I also saw the chief of the animation team, a big, strong man from Belgium with a funny Belgian accent. He is a born animator; it's his passion in life. He wanted his second massage this week. A good sign.

Just before I went home I visited Tom and asked him what it would take to start a business. He told me just a little over two thousand dollars to get an FM3 and a lawyer. That's it! Then my downstairs neighbor, who is an architect and has his office in the same building, offered me the use of his computer to write the following account of an interesting experience I had:

Late in the afternoon Tom, Patrick, his friends and I returned from our jungle trip and after we all said goodbye and parted I walked down 5th Avenue, figuring how I was going to survive the next two days with no more than ten dollars, when I bumped into my friend Xocoyotzin.

"Hola guapa, como estas?" he said and he gave me a warm hug.

"Very good, thank you. How are you doing?" I asked concerned when I saw that his tired face that was in dire need of a few Caribbean energy beams.

"I'm alright. So what are you up to?" he asked.

"Oh, I'm on my way home to make myself a little lunch."

"Well let me invite you to an Italian restaurant that belongs to a few good friends of mine. I would like to talk to you if you have some time," he said.

"Well of course," I replied with a smile, grateful for this unexpected treat.

He introduced me to the owner and the chef and we sat down at a table that was catching the last rays of the afternoon sun, to enjoy a beer and a good glass of chilled white wine that I had not tasted since my birthday. It was on that same night that Xoco and I celebrated my birthday by dancing from bar to disco and back, because my poor Jayms was lying in my bed with a painful back, hardly able to move, let alone make love.

"You look tired Xoco, you need some sun," I said.

"I know. I'm tired. Tired of myself, tired of my life here, tired of my work. This is not the kind of work I want to do. You know, I have not worked for fifteen days. I just can not do it anymore."

I looked at him and saw a good person being drained, physically and mentally by a society that expects their people to work so hard to be able to survive, that there is no more time to really feel and enjoy life, let alone live it.

"I know Xoco, I know what that feels like. You work as a public relations man, give it all you have, but it is not you and it's not making you feel good. I know what you really want to do," I said.

"Yes you do. I want to work with this Mayan Astrology we talked about on your birthday."

"And the idea is great, it can work and it is something you believe in."

"But it is not the only reason why I'm so tired." He hesitated for a moment. "You know Paula, I have lived here for almost three years, but you are the only person I can talk to about this shit."

"What shit," I asked.

"Oh God, I hate myself for this," he said and I saw tears welling up in his eyes.

"What have you done that makes you feel this way?"

"I haven't slept in the past seventy-two hours." He paused. "I just partied."

"What did you take?" I asked.

"It doesn't matter."

"Oh give me a break, tell me."

"Just a whole bunch of coke," he admitted.

"I see." I looked at him. I could feel his pain and desperation.

"Paula, I don't know what to do anymore. I have to go to Mexico City to take care of my mother, I have to make money and most of all I have to get out of this place."  He told me a few more private things about financial matters and business associates, about his family and what he wanted to do to get out of his miserable situation. I could see relief entering his being now that he was unburdening his heart.

"Oh God, I feel like such a jerk!"

"Xoco, why would you feel so bad about an experience you obviously needed to have. You gave yourself an experience, a present so to speak, so you could come to the understanding that you really need to change your life."

"I never saw it that way," he said and a hopeful smile appeared on his face. "But I don't know what to do," he softly protested.

"Yes you do," I said harshly. "Clean up your fucking act! Make the choices that you need to make and take action. You just explained to me what your options are. I'm not saying they are good or bad. As long as you can look yourself straight in the eye, you are doing the right thing. You've gotta do what you've gotta do and when it feels right to you, then just do it."

Michel the chef came to our table to ask if I had enjoyed my mixed salad with olive oil and caramelized garlic as well as the crepes filled with mushrooms and shrimps, covered with a fresh creamy spinach sauce. "Thank you Michel, the food was absolutely wonderful, my compliments."

Xoco explained to Michel where I came from. "Doesn't your country still have a queen?" Michel asked.

"That's right," I answered proudly, "and my mom is making the curtains for her royal palace."

Xoxo took my hand and smiled at me lovingly. "She is not the only queen from Holland."

"Would you like some dessert then," Michel asked.

"Well, as an Italian restaurant you probably have tiramisu. I would love some tiramisu if you have it," I carefully asked.

"Fresh tiramisu coming up," Michel said and before he returned to the kitchen, this short man observed me for a moment with his bright blue eyes.

"She's for real," he said to Xoco in Spanish, not realizing I understood what he was saying.

I spooned up the enormous plate of heavenly liquor drenched cake with fresh whipped cream all by myself, because Xoco's stomach could not handle rich substances at that moment.

"You know what I want to do now?" Xoco asked.

"Yes, I think I do," I answered.

"I want to do some more," he said.

"Yes, I know."

A puffy man came walking in the restaurant and nervously scanned the place.

"There's a friend of mine. I can get some from him," Xoco said quickly.

"Go ahead," I said. "You've gotta do what you've gotta do. I understand."

He got up. "I don't think I'll see you for a while Paula."

"Maybe not, but you'll be okay. You'll get there."

He took my hands and looked at me for a long time. "You know why God created women? Because he knew he couldn't be everywhere at the same time..."

He joined the chubby man and after a short talk they both left the restaurant, leaving me with a small espresso and a tiny bit of sunset. I knew he would make it. Eventually. I also knew this would become one of my future projects in the jungle village.

I sat back, sipping at my espresso, meditating on my life here in Mexico. I thought of Jayms and I thought of Funkytours when a familiar song started playing through the small speakers that were hidden in the corners of the huge palapa.

"Play that funky music, white boy... Play that funky music, white boy..."

I love you Madre Maria

**CHAPTER 27.**

**I WILL BE BACK**

Playa del Carmen, March 2001

My Dearest Jayms,

I have just returned from the jungle. Three wondrous days and three dreamy nights I spent in solitude at Tom and Joanne's tree house. As in Palenque I slept twelve hours the first night, overwhelmed by this mystical and tropical energy. That first night you appeared in my dreams. You came to look for me again, only this time you were happy to see me and I was grateful to be able to touch your beautiful face that lingered in my vicinity so vividly.

For hours I wandered the jungle, exploring the little trails. For days I sat, floating on the waves of singing sounds of the forest. I simply was there. I loved it.

A forest angel enchanted me and the forest poured with silver. I felt so happy, so perfectly happy.

The third morning at the Emerald Lake, a white eagle appeared three times. 'Lake of White Eagle' I call it now. The lake carries many names.

In three days I'll be going back to Holland. Strange, change, exciting. I love you. Paula

_hey child... how are you?...sounds like a special time in the jungle!... still trying to adjust to the big city... just different jungle... hope things with Fringe will move a bit... ive been in boston and l.a. a lot the past two weeks about this job i took but i decided it wasnt me....   i pulled out... im just a moody cancer...i am going to chile may 4,  do some trips there and in peru.... hope you are doing well... of to a new adventure... how is your sister?? she will be happy to have you home!!!! alright bella... have another pic... hear from you soon... love jayms_

Hey Jayms,

Upon my return from the jungle, I found an even bigger butterfly in my room. This one carried all kind of shades of black and grey, forming a beautiful pattern on its large wings. She got hurt that night, losing a little piece of her wing, but she is okay now, flying free again.

Yes, big city, different jungle...after two months you're still trying to adjust... adjust to what Jayms?

I hope that things with your travel company will move a bit. Whatever way they'll go, try to see in which direction, see it clearly, catch the hidden thought, it should not always be so difficult... (hahaha, hear me!)

Please, keep creating those photographs. That was truly a beautiful picture. No words needed. Thank you Jayms.

So, you're a moody cancer, well, well. When you were around me I experienced quite the opposite, but it doesn't take a lot to figure out that you might get a little moody after a while. Yes, I can easily picture that, because my mom has been with a non-talkative and moody cancer for twenty years and it took her a quite a while to say with a smile: "Oh baby, you just be your own sweet little self and just do as you please, but I'm out of here, going to have some fun. See you later darling." So, it may turn out after all that you're really not my type. Maybe Tom was right. You got me writing and we had great sex. That was our contract. We'll see. It's all good.

What's important now is that I'm heading back to Holland and yes, I'm very excited! There's gonna be a great techno party on the day of my return. Perfect timing, hey? My friends and my mom and her ex-husband will be there, and my sister and my little brother Rachid. He's a DJ and we all like to party and dance to this kind of music. It's a cool and relaxed crowd. If you want I'll send you a CD of Rachid. Just email me a postbox or an address I can send some stuff to.

Yes, I'm on to the next adventure. But I will be back. I will.

Love, Paula

**PART 2**

THREE YEARS LATER

**PROLOGUE 2**

"Go get some raw steaks from downstairs," my father commanded nervously, but still with the same old authority that tolerated nothing but absolute obedience. I threw him the most disgusting look I was capable of at that young age. Immediately I ran down the two flights of stairs, entered my father's restaurant and quickly walked towards the kitchen where I asked the cook for the meat. He saw in my eyes that we weren't going to eat those steaks. A heartrending image of my brother was forever imprinted on my retina. My little brother lying on my fathers bed with a face unrecognizably swollen like a boxer after a heavy fight. He flunked a traffic test at school. He was only ten years old. He was dyslexic.

My brother was always up to some mischief even when he was older. He was a fun loving person, constantly pulling jokes on people, dancing on bars strip teasing in front of a drunken crowd. He was very good looking, had the most charming smile with dimples in his cheeks, a bunch of blond curls framing his playful blue eyes and a gorgeous muscular body. He looked like a hunk of a beach boy in the summer and in the winter he was a true god on ski's, racing down the Alps like he was born on those slopes. It was breathtaking to look at those incredible jumps he took with absolute fearlessness.

His physical strength was his survival technique. My fathers' ski teaching methods consisted of yelling, screaming and hitting you with his ski pole. 'Get superior over the teacher and beat him,' he must have thought. My brother started to run faster, he started to play better tennis and he started to get stronger until one day my father couldn't control his anger again and tried to hit him. This time Leonard was able to stop him and hit him back. My father never tried again.

He constantly appeared so brave, as if my father's abuse didn't affect him at all, but in reality he was a very sensitive soul. That sensitivity would only become visible when he had no control over his emotions and that was when he was drunk. That was the only time I would see his tears over our suffering. Still, he always appeared so strong, as if enjoying life's pleasures would transform all the hurt, that it hadn't been that bad after all.

His suicide didn't come as a surprise. He had made an attempt a few weeks before, but he was treated at a psychological emergency center for a few days and then put on anti-depressant medication that eventually had a reverse effect. He had hung himself from a rope attached to a tree in the garden of the Royal Palace in the middle of night. He was only twenty-eight years old. He left behind a four-year-old daughter.

From the moment I heard the horrible news I was at peace with his decision. I thought it was the most courageous thing he had done in his life. Finally he was released from his unbearable suffering. My father was convinced that he hadn't fulfilled his karma, judging and condemning his act.

My brother's death occurred during a period were I had no contact with my father. We had not communicated or seen each other for a few years. It was a little awkward to see each other, but the circumstances called for a truce. As a family we prepared his funeral.

Fortunately he had broken his neck so his face looked peaceful, as if he was asleep. An employee of the funeral home had rolled him into a special area were we could spend some private time with him. His beautiful body was naked, cold and hard. We massaged him with essential oils, covering every single part of his body. His penis was the only part of his body that remained soft. We sat around him, held hands and we prayed. It was good.

The following days went by in a blur. There were so many details to take care of and so many decisions to be made, like what kind of casket, which kind of flowers, which cemetery, which available spot to choose, which music, what kind of car, and the words for the death notice and the obituaries. Considering the circumstances we reasonably agreed on our choices. Friends and relatives had the opportunity to pay their last respects during two afternoons. An hour before their arrival I would prepare the room. It was my time alone with my brother. I would talk to him and tell him about my days. I would run my fingers through his curls and rearrange the many rosebuds and rose petals that were placed around his head and the rest of his body. I dimmed the lights and lit the candles and incense, grateful that I could create a warm atmosphere for our mourning guests. It was heart wrenching to hear the sobs and cries over this incredible loss. My time to cry would come later. This hour was theirs.

The simple unvarnished pine wood casket with a plain white cotton lining was placed on a big bright red open jeep. Attached to the casket were seven strings of balloons. Each string had seven balloons with the colors of our seven chakras. It looked uncharacteristically colorful for a funeral car. With our family divided over three vehicles we first drove to the coast, giving my brother the opportunity to say goodbye to his beloved beach. The service, which was attended by at least one hundred people, was overshadowed by the final words of my father. An utter fool he made of himself when he spoke of karmic matters during the funeral, kind of dressed like a modern shaman with a large wooden staff in his hand, to which long ribbons were attached. Many people were disgusted with his words, especially since practically everybody was convinced that he was more responsible for his death than anybody else.

My brother continued to be a prankster, even in the spirit world. The weeks that followed his funeral we reportedly heard from friends that suddenly radios turned really loud, or TV's would suddenly flip on or clocks would simply stop ticking.

We still communicate through certain channels. He's doing well.

**CHAPTER 1.**

**PAIN AND PLEASURE**

Without a word we said goodbye. There was nothing to say. A passionate kiss and another one and gone he was. Down walked a lonesome traveler on his way to another destination in existence.

I was too tired and filled with too many emotions to think. I smoked some green medicine and lay down in a bed that was still warm from our bodies, always tenderly intertwined. I felt perfectly loved, peaceful and dreamy and only woke up at the hour his airplane was scheduled for take off.

Goodbye my love... mi amor...Gracias...mi amor...mi amor...mi amor... I continued to flow into a dreamland without dreams.

When I finally came to life I felt anything but alive. Nauseous from too much alcohol, exhausted from too many late nights and completely drained from these intense emotions, I took a shower. Absent-mindedly I walked around the house, sat down at the dinner table and cried my heart out. There was no sadness. There was simply a release of emotions I hadn't felt for so long. I walked a couple of blocks with my dog Guapo and stumbled back into bed to wake up the next morning hours before sunrise, my preferred time of day when the air carries promises of new beginnings.

I slowly opened my eyes and after a few minutes I heard a bird begin it's familiar morning song. Without a cup of coffee or any other stimulants I started cleaning my penthouse. I needed to feel this raw. The remnants of days of passionate bliss were lying scattered through my home and I needed to put them into order and give them a place in my life. Everywhere I looked I saw a vague imprint of his wise brown eyes and heard the warm, deep tone of his voice.

I emptied the dishwasher and put the plastic cups and silverware back into the wicker picnic basket. While I closed the lid of the basket my memory went back in time and I started crying. We had shared so much that afternoon sitting at the Emerald Lake of Pueblo Sacbe with absolutely no one around. We had talked comfortably, a cup of coffee and a cigarette for him, some water and fruit for me. We shared on such an intimate level; we shared with trust, with a connection that is a rare find. He inspired me; he inspired my singing, my writing and so much more.

With the rest of the dirty laundry I picked up the polka dot dress I wore that night of the flood. I sat down and I cried again. I had improvised us a dinner with a nice bottle of Spanish Rioja at the reception of the hotel 'Eclipse' where he was working. I had defied the pouring rain and knee high sewer floods several times to offer us this romantic rendezvous. We simply talked, listened to some Jazz tunes and gave his boss Peter a little moral support during this flooding drama in downtown Playa del Carmen. He felt so comfortable and so sexy.

When I started taking the sheets of the bed images and scenes from our last night together filled my head. Smells and sounds emerged. There was passion and lust and there was love. I threw myself on the bed and cried and cried.

I took a shower and while toweling myself dry I watched myself in the mirror and noticed the bruises on my inner thighs. I cherished these bite marks as a symbol of new revelations, beautiful spots of new sensations, round shaped like an unvoiced eye witness of this new experience of pain and pleasure. I was silent. I felt a deep pounding pressure at my heart space that was spreading its tentacles towards my throat and down my stomach. I was physically aching and finally I became conscious that my feelings for this man went much deeper then I had realized. I had known from the moment I saw his face in that dark cave, our spirits would carry us into realms of intimacy that remains a memory never to be forgotten.

We knew we had little time left to explore our minds. His inquisitive spirit needed to roam the earth, wander from country to nation, living new experiences, making new links in the relationships of life. We had merely a moment to feel each other's passion and only an instant to feel in love. But it was good this way. It was perfect. It always is.

I took Guapo for a much-deserved long walk and when we reached the turquoise waves, the sunrays had not yet touched the chilled sand. I walked for a while and sat down for a while and cried for a while. I felt a throbbing pain from his sudden absence, like we were ripped apart from a deep connection that was truly magical. I felt a powerful pleasure from the glow that my being was emanating from this new found love. Pain and pleasure, so intricately woven together, so miraculously interlaced. My thoughts went back to that night when for the first time in my life I had voluntarily accepted pure physical pain in the subtle play of love making. I had become an observer of myself, consuming the pain as a sacred practice opening currents of Divine energy. What an amazing new experience I had allowed in my life. I felt like a little child excited about a new discovery. I felt all these feelings, I felt the hurt, I felt the joy, I felt truly blessed for the wealth of all these emotions surging through my being. I walked towards the sea and for a long time I stared into the pinkish morning glare.

"Beloved Sea Goddess, Goddess of magical Maya land," I started. "Thank you for this beautiful gift I have asked for and that you have given me. Truly grateful I am for this inspiring and enriching experience. I love to feel like this, full of emotions, full of life and full of love. Tears and laughter, simply alive! Thank you, dear Goddess. I did not realize how much mourning these times of ecstasy would bring. Dear Goddess, please help me make my heart light again. Help me release the heaviness that surrounds it. Dry my tears with your loving compassion. Thank you, dear Goddess."

In a trance like state I walked back to my house and quietly got ready for work. Sharply dressed with high heels and my laptop in the hand I reached my baby blue Beetle. First dress the part; the rest will follow. Still a little shaken from all these passionate sentiments I spotted a folded piece of paper under the windshield wiper. It was from Sah, a very cute black young man that had recently moved to Playa del Carmen. We had made eye contact the brief moments we met in the street. When he had entered my office to sign his rental contract I welcomed him to Playa and we talked a little about yoga and work. He seemed a genuinely interesting person. He had intelligent eyes, a sexy smile and the turban of dreads on his head made him look like a young African prince. I had looked up his birth date on his contract and had wanted to invite him for dinner for his birthday next week. I read the note:

Hello Paula, Sah from across the street. I've been wanting to talk with you. Can we get together when you're free? My cel: #. Call me at your convenience...

At last a smile materialized on my teary face. The Goddess was compassionate indeed.

**CHAPTER 2.**

**COMPASSSIONATE TIMES**

I thought of calling Sah the next day, giving myself a little time to process my unexpected and disturbed state of mind. No chance was given to me, because when I stepped out of my car in the late afternoon returning from my office he was standing right across the street. With a smile he came walking towards me, giving me sufficient time to observe his supple moves and his muscular built.

"I found your note this morning," I said timidly.

He looked at me hopefully. "Yes, well I wanted to ask you if you had some time to go out for dinner or something."

"Sure, that would be nice," I answered friendly.

"When would be a good time for you," he asked politely.

"Tonight?" I blurted out impulsively.

"Sure, what time?"

My thoughts ran top speed, organizing enough time to write this ache out of my system.

"I think eight o'clock would be a good time. Can you make that?" I asked. "My apartment, that's number nine all the way up."

"I'll be there," he said with the sweetest smile and turned around.

I don't know why I had said that tonight would be okay. It was a wonderful distraction. It was a present in disguise. This was no coincidence. I sat down and wrote for hours, reliving every single moment, tears running down my face. Then I poured my heart out with Cindy who understood me like a sister.

As a true gentleman Sah arrived perfectly on time carrying a chilled bottle of white wine with compliments from Chile.

In a couple of days he would turn thirty, leaving behind a life in Louisiana and California where he had owned a successful company in computer software with twenty-five employees. Heir of a dot.com success he was. He was soft spoken and gentle in his speech. He was thoughtful and kind. We talked about many things, my life and his life and his presence felt comfortable. I noticed a large tattoo on his heart, a drawing of a large sun with the Om sign in the center. I asked him what that symbol meant to him.

"For many years I lived with a family of shamans whose last name was 'Om'. That was in California when I was around seventeen years old," he told me. I smiled meaningfully at him and said nothing. I rolled some medicine and we smoked in silence. We sat across each other at the dining table enjoying another glass of wine after we had eaten a nice sushi dinner a couple of blocks from my house. For a long time I stared into his eyes, observing his energy, gazing into his soul.

"I have never done this before," he said. "Communicating without speaking. It's beautiful," he said.

"This way you can feel with your heart and let your intuition flow," I answered.

"Your eyes are so deep, like you know so much. There is so much spiritual energy around you. When you look at me it's like you read me like a book."

I smiled again. He had said all the right things and I even felt a little excitement but I had no choice than to tell him the truth.

"You are gorgeous and sexy and I would love to touch you and kiss you and make love to you..." I paused for a moment, "but there is this beautiful man that is under my skin and in my system. I physically hurt from his parting only yesterday. Do you understand what I'm saying?" I said emotionally.

For a moment he was dumb struck. "Yes, I completely understand what you are saying. Wow! You are so direct. You are real."

"Better real than pure!" I blurted out.

"No it's good, you're honest. I like that."

"Well, I like you too. You have a good energy, you're a nice person."

He got up and walked over to my chair and sat next to me. He lovingly hugged me and whispered in my ear.

"You're really beautiful..."

Carefully he started kissing my neck and his soft round lips melted in my skin. His luscious tongue flowed its way into my mouth and sank between my lips, gently playing a sensual dance. His kisses where tender and luscious and I kissed him more. He felt good and strange at the same time. Rodrigo's face kept surfacing whether I wanted or not.

"I think it's better if you go home now," I said suddenly. "I know you understand."

"I do. I understand, don't worry," he replied with ease. "I'll go."

We stood at the front door and kissed goodbye. We kissed again and again and then again. Affectionately kissing, we stumbled towards the bedroom. Gently he put me on the bed, slowly undressing me, all the while continuing to cover me with his soft kisses. His beautiful round lips found it's way down my breasts where he circled his tongue around my nipples, softly shifting his moves down my belly, across the small line of reddish curls and between my swollen lips. He would not stop the continuous flow of his wet tongue and soft sucking lips until I finally came moaning loudly.

For minutes there was just the sound of my heavy breath gradually regaining it's slow rhythm.

"I'll go now..." he said. He understood.

I smiled gratefully. "Thank you Sah. This was truly a beautiful gift."

"You are very welcome. So yoga tomorrow?"

"Absolutely. I'll call you tomorrow for your first class."

"Sleep well," he finally said and closed the front door behind him.

I was left on my bed in a daze of fulfillment and melancholy. I saw nothing but Rodrigo's face, his eyes, his smile and his presence. Exhausted I fell asleep.

**CHAPTER 3.**

**NOT FUCKING AT THIS MOMENT**

It is said that we have a choice and a free will, but what to say about that very first thing you think of when you wake up, that very first idea. What brings that specific thought there, who decides what to think, what draws our attention?

For a moment last night I thought that I would calmly be able to continue my life in peace, but this morning the state of my heart engulfed me with a force that scared me. The heartache returned with a powerful gust spreading through my chest. This was not going to be as easy as I had thought

I took my early walk to the beach with Guapo, who was feeling my distress and he stayed close by my side. I stared into the soft orange clouds draped above the calm morning sea. I realized that the Goddess was compassionate indeed. She allowed me to feel emotions that I had not and could not feel for the longest time. I loved the heaviness of my heart; the deep thumping of a love beat, crouching up and down like a lazy snake, tightening its grip around my throat and my gut. _Fuck! This is strong. Fuck, fuck, fuck!_

I called Cindy who had just finished her first morning yoga class.

"Hey, how you're doing girl?" she asked with her girlish voice.

"Oh Cindy..." I swallowed the tears that were burning behind my eyes, "It hurts so much...oh God, I'm hurting so bad..."

"You want to meet for coffee?"

"Yes, " I gratefully answered. "I'll be there in ten minutes."

"Okay, be quick."

We sat down at 'Café Sasta', our favorite local coffee shop and ordered our coffees. I sipped my espresso and felt the hot sweet liquid pouring down my tense throat, hoping that the dark brown brew would bring some clarity to my confused mind.

"Oh Cindy, I had no idea it would feel like this," I said and tears started streaming down my face.

She looked at me with so much care and understanding.

"It really hurts... I'm aching...and I love it!" A smile showed through my teary sorrow. "It feels good to go through this; this passion, this love, this... I feel alive! God, how I love to live intense like this. Doesn't everybody deep down inside lives for that ultimate moment of love. When you feel your heart flaming and this burning pulsation of passion crazing up and down your spine, into every cell of your body, into every piece of skin, into every part of your being and all you want to do is fuse together in ultimate ecstasy."

"Oh yes, I know exactly what you mean. I live for that passion, for that one moment," Cindy added dreamily.

"We're such a romantic souls," I giggled.

"Don't you just love that feeling that you have for that one man? The feeling that you just want to get married and have his baby," Cindy enthusiastically continued.

"Well let's not get carried away here," I answered calmly. "I don't want to get married to anyone, I don't want to live with anyone. But I do want to have babies in a couple of years. I know that Dick will be the best father I could wish for my children. I think Rodrigo is too young to think of babies. He's only thirty-one." I took a breath. "But wait a minute..."

"What?" Cindy asked curiously.

"One night he did talk about... Oh my God, he talked about...if we would have a child. I suddenly remember! Why would he talk about that? It hadn't even crossed my mind."

"Because he is in love with you!"

"You know what he had also said one night? He said that a long time ago he had met someone who was a Master to him. With me was the second time he had an encounter with a Master..."

"Paula he loves you!"

"And you know what, he is a Master for me too. A Master who teaches me how to let go, how to loose control, how to surrender..."

"Paula you're so in love."

"He's bad for my health Cindy."

"You just feel like that because it was so very intense these last days. That was exceptional."

"But you know, we're so different," I defended myself. "He's a night person and I'm a morning person, I'm an athlete and his sport is playing chess. He likes hanging out in smoky Jazz bars and I like dancing to House music. He smokes and I've quit."

"But opposites attract," she replied.

Hearing her words I realized we actually were not that different. I was just trying to find a million reasons why this wouldn't work.

"Even if all of this just happened to realize that this is exactly what I'm missing in my relationship with Dick. I miss it so bad, this burning passion, just being so utterly and completely in love. It's hard to admit, but to be honest I've never been in love with Dick. Most of the time he feels more like my very best friend, someone I can tell absolutely anything. I know he feels differently. He is in love with me and misses me and desires me. I've really tried to have these feelings and there were moments that a glimpse did appear. God knows I've tried. I've waited, I've waited almost three years with patience for it to come, but..." Tears of frustration started running down my cheeks again.

"Life is too short Paula. You have waited three years for something that apparently is not there."

"But I want to make it work!" I cried desperately. "Everything is so good with Dick. We shine when we are together. We're an incredible team. It's such a joy to work together. Our life, we can't make it work here without each other. He needs me and I need him. He is such a good man and I feel very comfortable with him. I feel very safe with him and that is something that I have never felt before. And there has been passion. I know it's there. Honestly, where in the world am I going to find someone who will keep up with my moods and fits, 'cause I'm not an easy woman with the luggage I carry from my past. Where do I find someone who is so patient with my healing process, who understands me so well. Where do I find a man who leaves me totally and completely free, who recognizes the leader that I am? He completely accepts me as I am. He is truly healing for my soul. I want to go in therapy with him and make it work. My intentions are there to make it work, but... Oh fuck! I don't know. I do know that Dick and I will always be together in some way, connected in some manner, whether it be as parents of our children, partners in business or friends in love. He is the noble man that I can make my dreams come true with, huge dreams to build a business empire. I'm like the Empress you know and Dick treats me like one. He is worthy of me. In every way, he gives me anything my heart desires."

"Your heart desires burning passion and someone who can fuck you and after three years he still can not give that to you," Cindy answered sharply.

"He's patient with me and I'm patient with him," I said calmly.

"But now you're having all these feelings for this man. I've seen him and he fits so well here, he's so Playa. He has a very special look. He deserves you."

"This all will pass Cindy. It always does, it will wear off until it's nothing but a sweet memory. Rodrigo is just a catalyst in this time of my life, helping me to face my relationship with Dick and to make me write again. If the only reason is that I'm writing again for my book then that is enough."

"I don't think it will go away so easily," Cindy said.

"Neither do I," I replied while following the flight of a large bird in the fresh blue morning sky. "You know, in Holland I have been visiting this famous clairvoyant for over seven years now. He has helped me tremendously in my life, learning to trust my intuition and trust the things I always knew but could not voice for fear of ridicule. Once I took Dick there too and this man has helped us enormously in our relationship and our business plans. From the beginning he has told me that Dick is not the one, but that we would always have a special and blessed relationship and that we always would stay connected in some way. He also told me that one day I would meet him, the one... He has said this to Dick as well, but with the addition that eventually I would return to him..."

"Do you believe what this man says?" Cindy asked.

"Not everything..."

"Have you heard from Rodrigo, can you call him?" she asked again.

"I don't even have his fucking email address!" I answered freaked out. "I want to write to him, I want to share with him my feelings because I know he feels the same. I just know he feels the same."

"I do too," Cindy said

"He said he would be back in December passing through on his way back to Chili, but I'm going to New York in October to this Yoga Conference. It's in the same period as his birthday. I don't know how I'll get the money together, but I will. Oh, all this passion for love..."

"If it hurts so much, tell him! Ask him to come back," she said looking deep into my eyes. "Just ask him to come back Paula..."

I was silent for a moment. I thought of the movie 'Cold Mountain' that I had recently seen and that had touched my heart. Again I heard the words that she had written to her love in war. Just three words; so simple, so pure, so real. _" Please...come back."_

"Well Cindy, we'll see how I feel in a week or so," I said in my down to earth mode.

"So how did your date with Sah go?" she asked curiously.

I told her in a few words what had happened and she laughed

"That's truly beautiful."

"Yes, isn't it? But he smokes and I find the smell and taste disgusting. And the strange thing is that with Rodrigo I didn't mind. At a certain point I even liked the taste in his mouth."

"Yes, I know what you mean, that's love girl..."

"I think Sah can be a really good and sweet friend. He's even interested in yoga. He's cute but to me he has the energy of a young boy. You know what I mean? Rodrigo is only one year older but he is a man, a real man."

"Yes, I can see what you mean. And what about that admirer that you were going to see this Friday?"

"The way I feel now? I don't even want to think about another man, let alone touch another man. The Goddess who discretely fucks who ever she wants has changed her mind and is not fucking at this moment."

"God Paula, you're so funny!"

"Listen, I'm out of here. I've got to go to my office. But first I'm going to his work to see if they have his email. I wrote a mutual friend of ours but no luck so far. It will come."

"Thank you for sharing this with me," Cindy said gratefully.

"Thank you for listening to me. I'm so happy that we're becoming such close friends."

"Yes, me too!"

**CHAPTER 4.**

**I CRIED A RIVER OVER YOU**

I was getting dressed to go out for dinner with Cindy, while my thoughts went over the rest of the day. Time at the office had been a nightmare. I was becoming very skilled in handling daily and monthly property management problems, difficulties with my staff and financial crisis's without getting emotionally involved, but now that I was physically hurting from my own emotional confusion it took every professional expertise I had.

When in the late afternoon Sah had showed up for his first yoga class, he turned out to be a real friend, comforting me when I finally couldn't hold back my tears. I could see in his eyes he had been through the same ordeal.

During the class I taught I had noticed that Sah actually had a talent for yoga. I followed his movements closely and although he had tight hamstrings, like most men, he moved natural into the poses. I gave a rhythmic and strong yoga flow and felt so relieved, so clean and so clear after this class. More than ever I realized that yoga kept me sane. If I wouldn't have my yoga I didn't know in what emotional state I would find myself today. The flow cleared my mind and strengthened my spirit. It was my meditation in movement. Especially when I was teaching there was no room to think of anything else. Daily stresses and problems seemed so distant after a good yoga class.

With all the weight I had lost due to my appetite destroying emotions, I put on my classy pink and black dress with the sexy high-heeled black sandals. Dress the part and the rest will follow. It hadn't worked yesterday, but I was very confident it would work tonight. Myrna, one of my friends, had commented - talking from years and years of experience - that I would forget about him soon and that there would be many more lovers out there. Sally, another friend, had helped me step out of my dream by saying that he had moved to a new environment and very likely would be caught up in new impressions and meeting new people. I guess it was going to be a very hot summer in Playa after all.

"Oh my God, you look absolutely stunning. Let me change into something dressier," Cindy said.

"I just felt like dressing up to help me feel better," I replied apologetically.

After she changed into a gorgeous black jump suit we drove to Jamil's 'Kartabar'. All male eyes rolled our way when we attentively strolled into the restaurant and sat down at the same table and at the exact same spot as last Saturday. I hadn't eaten all day, except for some juices, so I ordered a light salad with poached pears and goat cheese and of course our daily share of cocktails. The 'French Kiss', a variation of the Cosmopolitan with a splash of Champagne was my favorite.

"Remember last Saturday when he came to pick up the keys?" I asked Cindy.

"Oh yes, he looked beautiful. He looked like he was in love," she answered.

"That was his night out with his friends, his goodbye party. That way he could come home when he wanted and I could just go to sleep without waking up every hour to check the alarm clock afraid of missing his call. He arrived early in the morning totally wasted and it was okay. You know what I mean? We slept all day lovingly entangled and for breakfast we went to have a real good bottle of red wine and Italian dishes. That's the kind of friends we are too. And I'm sitting at the exact same place as last Saturday and I keep on seeing him walking towards me, simply glowing all over. He keeps on walking towards me, over and over again, with this all knowing smile, shooting arrows of light at my heart and...oh shit..." A few tears rolled down my cheek when I felt inside what I had just said. I quickly looked up into the light to swallow away the rest of this sentimental flow. With a shock a realization came to mind. History was repeating itself.

"Cindy, did you ever find yourself in a situation in your life where you realize that this has happened before, exactly the same?" I asked anxiously.

"Oh yes, repeatedly. And I ask myself why this keeps on happening over and over again."

"Well listen to this. About three years ago, when I had just moved to Playa, I had a passionate romance with a young man I thought to be the one. Why I was convinced of this euphoric secret that I believed in? After years I figured out that all the ingredients, like the symbolic message in my Tarot cards, like the magical place Palenque where we met and the words in my horoscope, were all there and I so wanted it to happen. I simply wanted to believe in a romantic and miraculous story. Actually, there was this knowing inside that I would meet a special man in a way that would be surrounded by magic. It gave me so much joy and happiness that no matter what, I thought I had found the one. The only obstacle was that he didn't know this yet, so I was writing these stories about my life to him. This way he could get to know me; my thoughts, my desires, my dreams and hopes. Although I never really got the responses I had hoped for, I was still convinced that I had finally found him and this gave so much strength and meaning to my life that I gratefully worked for a monthly salary of five hundred dollars as a receptionist. I didn't care as long as I could write. So I always had a pen and a piece of paper in my skirt and every quiet moment I was writing. And three years ago I didn't have an email address either and I felt so desperate to write and share, just like now. Even the person that I eventually will get his email address from looks the same as the messenger back then; tall and black. It will take thirteen days... Oh my God, this is unbelievable. I'm going to write and write and... But this time it's different... We already... Then..." I looked up, swallowed again and took a deep breath in.

I continued more small talk with my neighbor who was chatting away with his repulsively strong cigarette breath in my face and finally I couldn't hold it much longer.

"I have an early yoga class tomorrow morning so I have to go now. Please enjoy your evening," I said strongly, holding the emotional flood that was about to burst. It was a sudden leave. Cindy took me home. She understood.

"You know Cindy, he and I are not so different actually. We both are writers, loners, searchers and explorers. There is that certain spirit of a writer that simply has to write, no matter what, that driving force to create, to create words and sentences and garlands of expressions. I see him in a dark smoky bar drinking his vodka, smoking his cigarettes, listening to some Blues, observing an obscure side of life and I love that about him. I see him writing, smoking cigarettes 'till he has a headache, drinking red wine, just writing and I love that about him. I love it because that is a part of me too. But there is so much more and I want to dive into that well of new things to discover about him. It is something I'm so looking forward to. He has my email, but I know why he is not writing... He knows..."

"I know," Cindy whispered.

"But right now, in this fucking moment, it's really hurting."

When she saw the tears and the pain in my eyes, I truly felt compassion coming from her. What a friend. She dropped me off.

I quickly took off my shoes and undressed. It was time to let go. I lied down on my bed and cried my heart out. Deep sobs of melancholy coming from eons ago, carrying tears from countless tribes of souls. I cried and cried and cried... I cried a river over you.

**CHAPTER 5.**

**MARY MAGDALENE**

After a delightful lunch I decided to take the Friday afternoon off and set out for the beach to meditate with the special oil I had purchased over the Internet. It was a distinct blend of the essential oils of spikenard and myrrh, the oils found in Mary Magdalene's anointing jar, with which she anointed the feet of Jesus. Mary Magdalene, the Apostle of the Apostles, the anointer of Christ, her beloved, the Bringer of Light.

It felt like a good preparation for the evening to come; our monthly girls gathering. Our diverse group of professional women had started with a cooking theme, but recently we had made an attempt to give our meetings more depth. The previous occasion we had made affirmative poster boards; a visualization technique that helps us create the things we like to happen in our lives by cutting out images and words from magazines and create a collage. It was the first time I had tried something like that and I was thrilled with the result. From the same stack of magazines completely different works of art had been produced. Everybody had reported that all the things on there posters were coming true. It was a powerful method that really worked. Because most of the images I had envisioned were planned far into the future I had to have patience. There was a large part of my collage that was completely dedicated to my future career in the limelight and I had cut out images of famous singers winning Grammy's and gorgeous movie stars posing in breathtaking gowns on the red carpet. Nevertheless, there were a few pieces of magazines I had cut out and glued on my piece of carton that had come true that infamous night with Rodrigo: 'sensational sex - all night long - in paradise' and 'love - contact - people in love'.

For this occasion we had picked the New York Times #1 bestseller the 'DaVinci Code' to discuss.  Knowing the true story behind this popular novel I had proposed to add some more meaning to our evening by bringing books or articles or anything that we could find on the Internet related to this subject. As not to overload my audience with the incredible story of the real origin of our secret societies, I had decided to leave my various books on the subject at home and only bring the valued oil.

I sat down in the sand and for a long time I stared over the healing colors of the ocean, as if the soft breeze would blow away all thoughts and completely clear my mind. I opened the little bottle with the precious oil and three times I deeply inhaled the strong and peculiar scent. I put some oil on my temples and my heart space and closed my eyes.

The face of Rodrigo appeared, speaking out words he had said a few weeks before.

"When I had a beard and really long hair," he said, pointing to his waist, "I once said to my friends: what if I'm Jesus Christ?"

This question seemed so natural to ask. Not only because there was something unusual about him, but also because I had asked myself that question many times: what if I'm Mary Magdalene? Many visions that had appeared during my years of spiritual training came back. Christ will return among us, not as a person, but as the Christ consciousness descended upon the ones who are ready to receive. The consciousness of the sacred love between Jesus and Mary would return to earth and descend upon the chosen ones as it would upon my equal and me. More visions and symbols came into view. The queen: generous and free, thirty nine, the loved one, death, rebirth, thirty three, the noble man, the hanged man, seven, the high priestess; ready for her task to teach and train her novice, three; the holy trinity.

_I will balm his feet. I will carry his child..._

What if God was one of us? Just a slob like one of us? We all knew Michael as a woman seducing, cigarette smoking and overweight angel who smelled of cookies and shamelessly scratched his balls. So why could there not be a tequila drinking and cocaine snorting modern version of Jesus. Just a wanderer trying to find his way home, human and perfectly imperfect like everyone one of us.

**CHAPTER 6.**

**THE MODERN MAGDALENE**

Heather, the host of our women group for this evening, welcomed me with a glass of white wine.

"Your glass for tonight has the little hummingbird," she said while pointing to the little figure placed around the stem of the wineglass in order for us not to mix up our glasses.

"Well thank you. Do you know what the symbol of the hummingbird means?" I asked her, knowing that she was very interested in all kinds of symbolism, especially regarding animals.

"No, please tell me," she answered.

"For many years I have studied various religious cults from Central and South America. During the ceremonies of this Brazilian church that I frequented for many years, we sang songs or hymns and the hummingbird was a reoccurring symbol in our singing. It is the symbol of enlightenment."

"How interesting," she said with this distinct look in her eyes.

We all filled our plates with the Spanish tapas we had prepared and the lively discussions started to heat up the already hot summer evening. I noticed that most women we're not very familiar with the subject and to my disappointment most discussions got stuck at the topic of role patterns in matriarchal and patriarchal societies.

"But don't you want to know why?" I asked. "Don't you want to know what lead to this situation of patriarchal supremacy? I always want to know what happened before and before that."

"Well please inform us with your knowledge. Apparently you have studied these matters in depth," one of the ladies invitingly asked.

"To tell you the truth, I had promised myself to leave the many books I have on these issues at home and only share with you some information on an interesting experiment that I will talk about in a second, but I will briefly share my thoughts on this subject. Some of you may find the story hard to believe, but okay..."

I told them the same story as I had told Cindy that evening. I explained the war of the gods, the source of the secret societies, their fear of the wisdom of the Goddess and their need to suppress the knowledge of the female energy. I saw many puzzled looks just as I had expected. Nevertheless I continued.

"I believe that Mary Magdalene was a high priestess, very likely in the tradition of Tantrism, among many other teachings. But that she was a prostitute is a blatant lie. I think she was actually a crucial part in the training and preparation of Jesus for his passion of Christ. The passion of Christ was an essential act to imprint this Christ consciousness into the energy grid of the planet where we can tap into it and become part of that crystal light." Nobody said a word, waiting for me to continue. "Now I will share with your some information on a project that has recently started called the Mary Magdalene Experiment."

I took the sheet of paper that I brought with me and started to read the explanation that I had copied from the website.

"The bible tells us several unusual stories about the relationship between Jesus and Mary Magdalene leading many theologians to believe that there was a mystical relationship between the two. One example would be when Mary anointed Jesus' feet with a rare substance called 'nard', which she carried in an alabaster jar, a substance that was so rare and expensive that the apostles could not believe Jesus would allow the anointing to occur. Even today, Nard or Spikenard is a very expensive and rare oil. It is one of the holiest, and highest vibrating, substances on the planet and believed to have many other rare esoteric qualities. The flower that produces the oil grows wild in a small region of Nepal, and nowhere else. This region of Nepal is considered the land of 'Buddha Consciousness'. Through a special connection we have been able to obtain a quantity of Spikenard and we would like to invite you to be part of our special test. Our goal is to provide a very small amount of Nard to at least 50,000 people, and then have them report back to us the effects through a special web link that we are developing. This will be the first time in history that Nard has been tested in this way."

After I explained a little bit how the oil is mostly used I took the little bottle from my purse and handed it over to one of the women, invited her to inhale the special aromas and hand it over to her neighbor. I observed the women and the effect the strong scent had on their senses, but it didn't have the result I had hoped for. After the little vial had passed every body's nose I put it back into my purse and that was that.

With the many words and phrases of our heated discussions on female energy still resounding in my head, I arrived home and smoked a joint. I picked up an old house CD called 'The Awakening' and placed it in my stereo player. I started dancing while inhaling the valuable oil like a bottle of poppers often placed under my nose by my homosexual friends during our excessive house parties episode.

Familiar images came back of the many parties that had transformed into my private sacred rituals. Some people go to their church on Sunday morning; I went to mine on Saturday night. _' God is a DJ... This is my church, this is where I heal my hurts...' _I thought of the magical nights where my dancing had become a prayer in movement.  On the rhythm of the drums I had stamped my hurt and my anger in the floor and given them back to the earth.  Following the melody of the music I had turned to the heavens to receive the heartbeat of forgiveness. Ecstasy, the ultimate heart opener, had become an important guide on my spiritual path. Again the magical number thirteen came into vision; it had been thirteen years ago that I had made my first moves on this spiritual path filled with sacred substances.

Scenes of many religious ceremonies that I had been a witness off during my trip to Brazil were running through my head like an almost surrealistic movie.  Although the very traditional Santo Daime doctrine with their use of a most powerful entheogenic sacrament from the Amazon had my utmost respect, the recent influences of the more African and indigenous based Umbanda tradition had my preference over this mostly Christian based practice. I had felt more at ease with the free, crazy and at times sensual energy.

Only recently I had read more information on Santeria, a form of voodoo practiced in Cuba, in an impressively well-documented book on the history of the reviled religions in Central and South America written by the Dutch professor Meuleman. It all started to make sense.

While the tribal beats resonated with my rhythmically moving body I felt a powerful understanding, stronger than ever before, that I was to lead spiritual rituals like a modern Mary Magdalene for the new apostles of this age. All the influences seemed to unite and integrate into a new eclectic religious cult for the awakening people of this era.

**CHAPTER 7.**

**MAGDALENE AND THE EGG**

The third day after this revelation I went to see Maria for a ritual cleansing of my aura. I loved her down to earth and powerful energy. Her knowledge of medicinal plants and herbs was remarkable and she was simply a cool Spanish woman. I believe this was the seventh time I went to visit her and every time I felt so light after her 'limpieza'. Some people called her the egg lady, but to me that sounded, maybe not purposefully intended as such, a little degrading. She did make use of an egg to see the obstacles in health or relational matters and every time I was impressed with her accuracy, whether it was diagnosing a lingering bladder infection or some form of emotional distress.

After we talked a little about our state of mind I took off my sandals, stepped in front of the altar and picked with my left hand an egg from a small wicker basket that Maria offered me. While I held the egg in my receiving hand, Maria put some fresh Copal on the burning coal. When the smoke started to fill the room she took the egg from my hand and started her prayers and invocations, all the while gently moving and circling the egg over all parts of my body.

At the end of the ceremony she asked me to speak out my full name and broke the egg in a glass of water. She held the glass against the light and turned it around a few times.

"Your health is excellent. Here, that big air bubble is you and there, that smaller bubble, is someone very close to you. And there is another one. It all looks very good."

She put the glass down to pick up the basket and had me choose a second egg.

"To see what happened after the cleansing," she explained. "Your health is very good. Down here you see some influences from people from your past, but nothing major. But your chakras were so open, I could feel it. It never has been that strong."

"Well, I wanted to show you something that I think has something to do with that." I picked the little bottle with oil from my purse and handed it over to her. "That's Spikenard oil, the oil Mary Magdalene used on Jesus."

"I have a tiny, tiny little bit of that," she called out excitedly. "Here, I'll show you. I have it with me."

She handed me a small glass vile with not more than a few drops of golden colored oil.

"Well, let me give you some more," I said and poured a small amount of the sacred substance in the tiny bottle. She was thrilled.

We shared our thoughts on Mary Magdalene and it turned out we were both a great admirer of this mystical woman.

"Once in Spain someone gave me an extraordinary poster of Mary Magdalene where she is painted with an egg in her hand."

"Really? Wow, I didn't know that."

"I will copy it for you and bring it next time," Maria said with a big smile.

"That is so nice of you. Thank you. You have no idea how much that means to me," I said with an even bigger smile.

**CHAPTER 8.**

**MAGDALENE IGNORANCE**

Climbing the stairs to my apartment I stopped at Cindy's place to see if she was home. She was cooking dinner for her kids who were about to be returned home by her ex husband.

"Tell me, how did the workshop go you gave in Mexico City?" I asked.

"It was so different from last time. The people were difficult, not even some basic knowledge of anatomy. It was in a bad neighborhood, there was nothing to do, nowhere to go. It was hard work. It was in a bad area of D.F., dangerous actually," she answered.

"Good, then it was an enriching experience. It's valuable to see the other side of life. Makes you realize how fortunate we are to live here, safely and healthy," I concluded.

She agreed.

"And you, how have you been?" she asked.

"It's so weird, but I've been waking up at the strangest hours. Suddenly at four o'clock in the morning I open my eyes and I'm wide-awake. Then the words start pouring in and I simply have to write. I was at my office at seven and worked my ass off 'till three. I felt exhausted after that long day so I went to the beach for a few hours to unwind, but I still felt guilty even though I worked almost twelve hours straight without a break. Fucking guilt trips," I answered.

"Tell me about guilt. So did you hear anything from Rodrigo?"

"No, but I did get his email address from the black messenger after thirteen days."

"Oh my God, you gotta be kidding! Did it really happen as you predicted? I can't believe it!" Cindy answered enchanted.

"Yes, it did. But I still haven't heard a thing and it's driving me crazy. I feel so restless and I'm starting to feel insecure for no reason. I hate it that it starts to influence my state of mind. I know I have to get my period in a few days, but I'm in this foul mood. You know, when you think: what the fuck am I doing here, small fucking village with the same old fucking faces every single fucking day. Who the fuck does he think he is having me wait so long. He's just a little boy, so what am I getting all hyped up about. You know what I mean? I keep on thinking why doesn't he write back? Why?"

"Are you sure you have the right email address?" Cindy asked.

I fell silent for a moment.

"Oh my God, that's it! That's exactly what happened three years ago. He was using another email address and the one I had written to he only checked sporadically. He had found my letter after..."

"How many days?" Cindy interrupted.

"Thirteen..."

"That's incredible."

"I can't believe I didn't think of that. Oh, thank you Cindy. I feel so much better now."

"I so love your stories. By the way, I'm really getting into your style of writing. It's amazing what you retain of a conversation, all the little details you observe and the hidden words that turn into meaningful messages. I want to read more, I want to know more."

"In that case I'll print out some more writing. The fountain of inspiration is flowing full force, so eat your heart out."

"I can't wait," she said impatiently.

"You'll read about it in one of my stories, but lately I've been working more with the energy of Mary Magdalene," I informed Cindy.

"Mary who?"

"Mary Magdalene."

"Who is that?"

"You don't know who she is?" I asked her completely surprised.

"I have no idea."

"She was the partner in life of Jesus Christ!"

I realized I couldn't tell her of my visions and revelations before she was more informed on this mystical woman.

"Let me see. The books I have on her are all in Dutch, but in my next writing you can read some more about her."

"Okay. I'll read about it."

Although I couldn't share my Mary and Jesus revelations yet, I did feel the need to tell her of my growing sensation to experience the miracle of life inside of me.

"You know Cindy, only a few days ago I have started thinking about having a child. I even considered having my IUD removed."

"That's a change in your life. I guess you'll have to talk with Dick next time he's here."

"Well, I know Dick wants to wait a little while longer and that's fine with me. I'm talking about having a child from him," I said with this secretive smile on my face.

"That's love Paula. That's real love..."

Our conversation was interrupted by the arrival of her ex husband and her kids.

"I'm going for a walk on the beach and watch the full moon," I quickly said.

"I wish I could go with you," she softly spoke in my ear.

"Next time..." I whispered back, blowing her a kiss before closing the door behind me.

**CHAPTER 9.**

**THE ONE**

Frantically I had been writing all day, only doing the highly necessary things at my office during the early morning hours. My singing class broke the day. I was looking forward to it, but I was feeling so emotional that I was afraid it would affect my singing, especially singing that particular song that I was practicing for my first public appearance. One morning I had sang to Rodrigo and he had loved my voice. He could clearly see me as the Diva of Jazz that I could feel growing inside of me. I had noticed he actually understood me pretty well when I told him about the yoga teacher training of Baron Baptiste.

"My final conclusion is that Baron gives a great performance, but it ain't my show," I had said.

"No, because it's not _your_ show," he had responded cleverly.

I laughed. "Exactly!"

I had decided to tell my singing teacher Oscar a little bit about my state of mind. I just couldn't hide it. He smiled at me with his wise eyes and said that we first were going to do something different. He got a piece of paper and a pen and told me I had to write down one sentence, anything that came up in my mind, fold the top part of the paper over the sentence and then hand it over to him. He would do the same without seeing the previous sentence. I had no clue what this was for, but I started to write the first sentence that came to mind and gave the folded piece of paper back to him. We repeated this until there was no more space to write at the bottom of the sheet.

Oscar unfolded the roll of paper and handed me my first lyrics, the first love song I had written. It was written for him.

I love passion in life

To hide everything as it rains

May the sea wash away my tears

Unchain when chained

I live for Love

To walk with dreams in my hand

Strong mind open heart

Running with feet on the fire

The morning sun gives new hope

And everything starts all over

Until we meet again

My late afternoon yoga class was very healing. I felt even more relieved than the day before. Maybe it was also caused by the bubbly energy of my girl friends in class, who were all exited about going out tonight. Together with the smoldering looks of the guys working out in the gym I realized that life goes on. One hot body even said that I had this glow in my eyes. Yeah right, maybe a little swollen from last night's tears, but he didn't need to know that, so I smiled mysteriously.

After class Cindy and I went to get a juice on Fifth and sat down at a small round table.

"You know Cindy, this writing is so healing. I'm finding out so many things about my life and myself. Do you remember I said that it's going to be a hot summer?" I asked her.

"I sure do," she responded.

"But do we really want more hot bodies? Do we want more lovers? I mean look around. With our looks and our moves and the sensual and sexual energy that we radiate we can seduce them all, every single one of them, that's not the point. They are all delicious, but it's just another body and another mouth and they all start to blend," I said.

"Did you feel that with Rodrigo too?" she asked.

"Oh no! From the very first time it was absolutely amazing. I can still feel that first night in my body. I just don't have the memories. He has these memories and he has shared them with me. I'm a very wild woman Cindy."

"What do you mean? You don't remember that first night?"

"That's a different story I'll tell you some other time."

"I'll remind you next time to tell me," Cindy said with a giggle.

"Next time. Now we are talking about hot bodies. What I was trying to say... What are we trying to prove with all these lovers? How many do we want? One, five, ten, fifty, hundreds?"

"I know. I have been struggling with these issues too.  At school, always wanting to be pretty, be beautiful, be sexy and be loved. Is he going to call me back? This constant need for approval and confirmation."

"I think that actually, all we are looking for is that matchless moment of passion, that deep intense all consuming burning passion. A loving passion that makes your heart sing with joy, a desire that makes your body shoot stars into space, a tenderness that models two bodies into one. We are all searching for that unique soul moving connection, sharing our spirit, our deepest desires, as dark as they may be. And you know what? I think I have found what I was looking for. I found the one. I do ask myself is he really the one? Who knows? It doesn't matter. Cindy, he's the one. It feels good to be dedicated to one person for a change. That one person, that man is a writer. That man has a deep passion. That man has a powerful spirit in his eyes.  Like the first time in Playa three years ago this beautiful experience is inspiring me to write after years of silence. Let the silence be broken. I will tell him my stories. He will tell me his stories."

"And then what?" Cindy asked.

I looked up and saw one of my secret lovers. With his charming smile he came walking over to me and gave me a kiss. A little shy he said he was sorry that he had not seen me lately because he was working so hard, but next month he would make time for his birthday. He promised he would call me and hastily took off. Cindy and I looked at each other and started laughing.

"At least I'll have some time to think of the appropriate birthday present," I said with a naughty smile.

"A present for who?" Cindy asked secretly.

I looked deep into her eyes. "You know."

**CHAPTER 10.**

**INVASION OF ENTITIES**

When I typed in the last words of this recent revelation I felt a deep sense of accomplishment. It had taken me many days to process the pain and the pleasure. I had needed many dreamless nights to transform my bittersweet tears into drops of golden honey tingling around my heart, creating a constant mysterious smile on my face.

I felt a warm sense of understanding, like a precious secret I was carrying with me: a deep knowing that this was something magical. I realized that for the first time in a year or so I had looked up my monthly horoscope and a selection of tarot cards, only days before this whole story started, as if I was preparing myself for something I subconsciously knew was coming.

My horoscope was screaming that this month, with five planets lined up in my sector of true love, there was no way of escaping the plans of the universe. Although Mars and Saturn were moving in orbits that brought quite an amount of pressure in work related areas there was no evading the future. I could be so caught up in the stress at my office and the busy pace of my life that I was wise to keep an open mind, because: '...you could stare love in the face and not quite see that it is there. Love comes when it comes, often when you aren't even thinking about it.'

Also the tarot cards I had laid out were alarmingly indicating the same outcome. All the positions were directing towards the last card in the spread: '...This card tells you to express the feelings you have for that special one you want to have in your life. Feelings of love are not expressed often enough with the kind of sincerity they deserve. This card represents the expression of commitment and advises that you pledge yourself to be the best you can be in this coming relationship and put your heart on the line. You have nothing to lose and everything to gain. It's a great privilege to share love with the one who is compatible and complementary.'

Over the years I had become a little skeptical towards these acclamations in horoscopes and tarot spreads of finding true love. I knew certain unseen forces were working, but if it was up to my horoscopes I had found true love a thousand times already. Although I felt an unfulfilled void in my love life, for some reason I was convinced that for years to come the universe was not going to give me more than a man in the distant who loved and admired me and an occasional infatuation or crush on a lover in my vicinity.

Something very strange had happened in that cavern and I still hadn't quiet figured out what. My vivid imagination that was colored by many years of studying the religious cults of Central and South America had come up with an interesting and hilarious theory.

In my belief system we are surrounded by unseen forces and forms of consciousness that dwell in the worlds that are not visible to most humans. We give them names like angels, guides, spirits and entities, some beneficial to our welfare and some not. I often see a fourth dimensional cartoon-like world with beings that can take absolutely any shape or form and where absolutely anything is possible. I can even hear complete conversations and quarrels like a bunch of Greek Gods having a fight over how to intervene in certain earthly dramas. So here's this young woman, happily living her life in paradise or so she thinks. The planets are doing their work. She's feels the influences of true love, but is directing this energy towards the wrong guy. Now the guides of this woman are becoming a little worried because her true love is almost leaving the country and they haven't even met, let alone connect. She is at a baby shower of one of her girlfriends and Divine intervention is at call here.

"Okay, it's going the right way here, she is getting in the right state of mind. Have her drink more champagne," I could hear one of the cupid-like figures say. Another cherub was screaming at my ear. "More champagne! Drink woman! Champagne is what you want!"

A little tipsy but perfectly able to drive I left on my way home.

"Oh no! She can't go home. We can't fuck up now. Go see your friend Ellen girl. She'll direct you to the right location. Ellen! Go see Ellen! Ellen!" they yelled at me.

The subtle voices in my head made me decide to have one more drink at the 'The Tequila Barrel', the bar where Ellen was working. She told me that all the locals of Playa were at the party of Pia's fiftieth birthday, which she celebrated in the cavern restaurant Alux so I decided to go for a quick drink and wish her a happy birthday.

Although the place was packed with familiar faces, one of the first people that caught my attention was this mysterious man I had never seen before. His face stood out in the crowd and everywhere I looked I saw his piercing eyes. I went up to him to ask his name at the same time thinking that I wanted this man as my lover. The angels were flying somersaults of joy, seeing that the magic was working, but soon realized they had to call in emergency troops when they noticed there were many too many rivals in the field. A few more tequila's and the channels would be wide open to have the 'Pumba Gira's' do their work; a complete take over by the most seductive entities of the astral world, an energy that was very familiar to me and that I had worked with during many spiritual rituals both in Brazil and Europe.

"Get this woman ready guys. Bring some more tequila. A line of coke will do the job as well," I could hear them shouting. Tequila's were being pushed in my hands and a line was offered in a dark corner. More instructions followed for a complete invasion of my consciousness.

"Now move in before it's too late. There is too much at stake here. Go, go, go!"

I had no single memory of what happened after that, not a glimpse of a scene. It was absolutely blank until early next morning when I found myself with no keys, phone or wallet on my terrace. But the most important thing was that of all the competition and all the admirers that were trying to lure me towards their horny bodies, my attention was only directed towards this man. I had absolutely, completely and totally opened myself to him. Although I was extremely upset with myself for behaving so irresponsible, there was this serene acceptance of a feeling that something exceptionally magical had happened.

If any hint of a doubt was left in my mind, then my impulsive visit to Rodrigo's colleague Juan at the reception of hotel 'Eclipse' made me fly with certainty. Juan was a kind man in his fifties with wavy gray hair and beautiful deep brown eyes. He had seen a thing or two in his lifetime.

"Hello, how you're doing?" I asked politely when I stepped into the reception.

"Not too bad. How about yourself," he answered friendly, looking up from his computer.

"Not too bad either. I had a very busy day at the office, but I'm going to relax now with a drink on the beach," I said with a smile at the thought of a Margarita.

"Sounds good," he continued.

"How is it going here in the hotel?" I asked again.

"Well, it's been kind off slow actually," he said a bit disappointed.

"I think it will pick up soon, because town is filling up. I have been surprisingly busy."

"Good for you." I could see he meant what he said. He continued, "I haven't heard anything from him yet."

"No, me neither," I said with a sigh.

"He left kind of suddenly, you know and I actually miss him."

I smiled and looked into his big sad eyes. "Yes, tell me about it. I miss him too..."

"He really is a very extraordinary person," Juan continued with an absolute admiration in his voice. "He is one of the last cowboys, you know. He has that real macho, that true macho, that protectiveness of his family. He is from down there at the most southern part of the world, where Pinochet didn't even know they existed. Nobody went there. These people had their own laws; don't touch my family or I'll kill you. Oh, this boy left a trail in Kai Luum, you know, that resort where we worked together. He was the food and beverage manager and he was a person who spoke out for people. He taught people to stand up for themselves," he said with a passion in his eyes.

I thought of the many hours we had spent talking about his country and his family and his time at 'Kai Luum'.

"Rodrigo was like an older brother to them," Juan continued with fervor. "No really, any human injustice was unacceptable for him. He touches your heart. He makes a difference. I tell you, he is honest. He is real."

"Yes, he can certainly touch your heart. He touched my heart," I confessed.

I don't think Juan had heard what I said.

"And his father was a bohemian, you know. He loved an audience..."

I didn't remember Rodrigo describing his father that way, but I did remember what he had said about his mother.

"My mother was a very beautiful woman. All my friends dreamed about her, even fantasized about her. She was a very strong woman, a powerful woman, a real leader for her people," he had said.

"Well, what a remarkable pattern," I had answered. "A strong willed mother with character and a son who is attracted to me." We had laughed at the coincidence.

Juan pulled me back from my daydreaming with his enthusiastic voice.

"Magical things happen around him. I had taken a break from two gruesome seasons, like an extended vacation. For six weeks I didn't leave my house. And after some time I came to visit him here and asked if he had a job and here I am," he said with a proud smile.

"I'm happy for you Juan."

"I hope we'll hear from him soon. That he's not stuck at immigration because he didn't have so much money," Juan said a little worried.

"Well, if that was the case they would have sent him back to Mexico," I said hopefully, but was actually thinking of worse things that could happen in the States these days.

"He is a journalist. He's extremely intelligent, so he'll be okay," Juan continued.

"Oh, I'm sure we'll hear from him one of these days," I said optimistic.

"He is a powerful force, he really is. A powerful force..." Juan said pensively staring towards the street.

"He is a powerful force in bringing people into their own power," I said to him. He looked back at me attracted by my voice, but I could see in his puzzled look that he had not heard what I had just said. I stared deep into his eyes and repeated the same sentence a little slower this time. "He is a powerful force in bringing people into their own power." I saw a spark in his eye and then continued. "Listen I would love to talk with you some more, because I like talking with you. But I'm already late for a drink I'm having with the staff of my office," I said preparing for take off.

He smiled. "Yes, that would be nice, because we're talking about the same thing here." We gave each other a good handshake. He smiled again. "I like your strong grip."

"Thanks. I'll be back."

I turned around, feeling his eyes burning on my departing, wiggling ass.

I heard a deep sigh.

Everything fell into place.

**CHAPTER 11.**

**BEING IN LOVE WITH LIFE**

At the end of the day I passed by the house of Tom and Joanne to bring them my latest writing. Tom had been an avid fan of my short stories three years ago and I was looking forward to his comments on this recent connection with the past. They were the first people in Playa I had built a real friendship with and they knew just about everything about my life. They were the kind of people I could call in the middle of the night, the kind of people I could really trust and connect with on a higher level and who had gotten to know me pretty well by now.

We hadn't seen each other for a couple of months due to busy working schedules and the difficult professional and financial situation they had maneuvered themselves into. By no means I envied their situation, but I had a tremendous respect for the incredible and complex ecological project they were pulling from the ground. It seemed like an impossible task; everything was going so slow and tricky and with so many delays. I believed in them and their project, but I think that most people had given up on them by now.

I walked into Tom's office and gave him a big hug.

"Paula! Good to see you again," he said warmheartedly. "It's been way too long. Good thing we bumped into each other last night. Did you finally find Guapo?"

"Oh yes. Like you said he was waiting exactly where we had seen each other for the last time, but this time across the street," I replied.

"Dogs think: I might not be so intelligent, but I'm sure my boss knows where she left me so I'll just wait here. Pretty smart hey?" Tom chuckled.

I loved his sense of humor.

"Joanne is just getting up. She'll be with us in a second. If you like you can join us for a drink on the beach," he asked invitingly.

"That sounds like an excellent idea."

"So you met this new guy? Well, knowing you the way I do, he must feel the same for you," Tom said with this distinct smile on his face.

"I'm pretty sure he does. And there are so many similarities with Jayms. He has me writing again, I've written thirteen pages in one week on top of my busy schedule."

"Do I remember him? You were crazy about that guy. But hey, you fulfilled your contract with each other. He got you writing."

Joanne walked into the office with a stressed and sad energy around her.

"Hi Paula, so nice to see you," she said with a cheerful voice, but I could sense her anguish about the situation they found themselves in.

"Hello Joanne, how are you doing?" I asked concerned.

"Well, it hasn't been easy. All this anger that's being poured over us and that we have to deal with. I'm so tired of the whole situation, you know. It's enough, I just want a break," she said while tears filled her eyes.

"Then ask the Universe for a break. Just ask for it. Ask and you will receive. Be clear and specific what you want. I always start with the sentence: ...if it's part of the Universal plan, if it's serves my spiritual growth, then I ask..." I said to her.

"It's been one thing after the other and the end is not in sight," she continued.

"I know what you mean. It's not been easy for me either. But you know what helps me through these difficult moments? My yoga. It helps me take distance from whatever situation. Take distance from the situation and see the bigger picture. You know, we're so good at what we do, so we get real difficult tests. It's just a test. Don't take it personal. We know what we are here for, right?" I said to her looking deep into her eyes.

"Yes, you are so right," she said with a faint smile.

"You know what helps me too in difficult situations Joanne? I think of the spiritual rituals I have done, the dark energy that I've seen, that complete utter darkness that is around us. You know what I'm talking about?" I asked her.

"Oh yes, I absolutely know what you mean," she answered.

"That darkness that can engulf you into eternity and all you can do is stay in your light. With everything you have you hold, you continue, you withstand that blackness that will enter you like a wave of black tar if you don't remain in your pure center. With all your Godly power you shine and cut through the darkness. You are the piece of the puzzle that everything depends on. If you fail, it will affect all the other pieces and the rest of this universe will be swallowed into that darkness too. Do you know what I'm talking about?  You know that feeling?" I asked her dead serious.

"Oh yes, I know and I never ever want to experience such a feeling ever again."

"Just think of that feeling and whatever you're going through now will seem like a little game. Peanuts!"

She smiled.

Tom was anxiously waiting to go to the beach and we caught up following him through the back gate.

We sat down at one of the round plastic tables, enjoying the beautiful view of the Caribbean Sea. We gave our order to one of the waiters and continued our conversation.

"You probably know that we just got back from New York from an important meeting," Tom started.

"Yes, I heard it from Svetlana and I read your last email."

"And New York is so much fun! What a great city. We stayed at Greenwich Village with friends, " Joanne enthusiastically added.

"So that's why I have such short hair now," Tom explained. "We needed to dress up in a three piece suit, you know the works."

"Yes I know. A couple of months ago I was in Mexico City with Dick to talk with a few banks. He didn't bring his suit this time and was wearing his Playa outfit, but I looked sharp with my black suit and my black pearls. And I did all the talking! In Spanish! You should have seen Dick. He is so proud of me. That helped me see the bigger picture."

"Well, I did the talking too this time," Joanne continued. "There was a shift of attention when they noticed a female was doing the talking, but still I was relentlessly questioned by some Jewish businessmen who actually only care about their money. If it wasn't for Jack I would not have been able to deal with all of this."

I thought of our notorious Jewish businessmen from New York that quite a few people had had unpleasant encounters with. He was extremely skillful at manipulating people in order to get what he needed. Nevertheless, I respected him for his intelligence and his sense of business, but I also saw the blue-eyed little boy that needed to win no matter what.

"So, it turned out he was a blessing in disguise," I said.

"But he stole your property management deal," Tom interfered.

"Let him have it. I wasn't ready yet. And by the time I am, they'll come back to me with their tail between their legs and then I'll pull the cards," I replied with a confident smile.

"So how is your business going?" Joanne asked curiously.

"Well, I certainly had some stress to deal with lately. As you probably know, my general manager is leaving so I have been reorganizing my staff and their responsibilities. But to find a good desk manager who speaks eighty percent English is almost impossible here in Playa. Then my bookkeeper tells me he is leaving in ten days. With the complicated administration we have, I had no idea how to find and train a replacement on such short notice. And then on top of that my accountant completely fucked up. He forgot to do my taxes for the past months so he thought to be smart and pay them all at once. Without notifying me, without consulting with me and without asking my fucking permission. Thousands of dollars he pulled from my business account! But I stayed calm. I was actually surprised at how calm I was and I'm sure that had something to do with the yoga teacher training I had just finished. Just look at what it is. It's just another test. Anyway, things are looking good. I'm talking with a new accountant who was recommended by Cindy. It's a complicated subject: taxes in Mexico, but I have to understand it. In Spanish this time. So Nisi will become the general manager, she has been with me from the start. And I knew eventually I would find a new staff. But listen to this. You know what she did? She has this bible study group and they got together for a group prayer and each one could say what they want a prayer for, so Nisi asked for a prayer for Star Condos. The next morning the maintenance guys come walking in the office offering us flowers and I hire a new bookkeeper and a new desk manager. All in the same morning. Can you believe it? And they're all women."

"Wow, that's amazing! But I have had some difficult experiences with an all female staff. Shouldn't you be a little cautious with only women at your office?" Joanne asked.

"I know what you're saying and I understand your concern, but they're all wonderful women and there is mutual respect and understanding. There is really a good atmosphere at the office."

"That's great. You have come a long way and you have accomplished so much already. Any new deals in the air?" Tom asked.

"Yes! I'm offered a whole new building, both administration of the condo association and the rentals and the complex is located just around the corner of my office. I'm close to one hundred properties now."

"That will call for a celebration," he cheerfully added.

"And very likely I'm going to do my first sale. One of my clients wants to sell and the tenant wants to buy, so I'll make a nice amount of money. Half for Star Condos and half for my vacation to New York," I said full of excitement.

"And I bet you'll spend it all," Tom laughingly sneered.

"You got it!"

We ordered a second round of beers and tequilas.

"I can see your yoga has not influenced your tequila consumption," Joanne remarked.

"Hell no!" I said with a big smile. "I like to be known as the yogi who enjoys a good party. I can give a killer class of an hour and a half and have them dropping like flies, when I have only slept four hours and drank multiple Margarita's. I think they relate more to a person who is just as human as they are instead of a green liquid drinking yoga teacher who is almost transparent of purity. Everything needs to be in balance in life. To me drinking adds to the celebration of life. When we sit here at the end of our working day, observing the beach life, watching the waves roll in and the palm trees dance in the wind, who are we to deny ourselves that relaxing drink that soothes out the day. Let's drink to that!"

"Yes! Let's drink to that!"

All three of us raised our glasses to the celebration of Creation.

"Cheers!"

"But in all honesty," I continued, "I think that so many people want to get high in one way or the other because they feel inside that this reality is not real. This is a dream, the incorrect computer program. We're stuck in the wrong frequency. Being high feels closer to the light then this earth life full of suffering. You guys, we have read too many books and we know too much to not see that there is some truth in this theory," I said

"Hey, we're Light workers from a multidimensional level. We're here with a mission and it has not been an easy job living as an earthling, so give me a fucking break and let me have my goddamn drink!" Tom joked.

We all broke out in laughter, knowing that this was not far from the truth.

 "But let's face it, I have a very addictive personality and we all know where that character flaw originated. I still have a lot of shit locked in my cells, so I'm facing my addictions. I'm talking about smoking marihuana, drinking alcohol, snorting cocaine and smoking cigarettes."

"And what about the other addictions?" Joanne remarked.

"Wait, I'm not done yet," I said with a big smile.

"Sex. Attention. Work. Success. Yes, and even Yoga. So, I'm going in therapy again, with Anya this time."

"Yes, I heard about her. Is she good?" Joanne asked.

"I've heard very good things about her and I like her energy, so I want to give it a try. After the sessions with Rodolfo I took a little break, but I think this is a good time to continue with these healing sessions."

"The last time we went to see Rodolfo was amazing," Joanne told me.

"I think he does incredible work and I recommend him to everybody, but I'm done with him for now. Maybe because I have noticed there is too much ego involved. Instead of this finger clipping in my ethereal body I feel the need to talk, the need to talk to a woman. Because I want to talk about sexual issues."

"We're blessed with so many wonderful healers here in Playa," Joanne continued. "We have Rodolfo, Roy, Anya and let's not forget Maria."

"No, let's not forget Maria. She is one of my favorites," I added.

 Tom interrupted us and made an announcement.

"Why don't we move on and have something to eat. I'm getting a little hungry myself."

"Excellent idea Tom," Joanne complimented her hubby.

We paid the bill and started moving towards Fifth Avenue. Tom and Joanne walked hand in hand in front of me and I felt the energy of a warm loving relationship. The circumstances did not always work with them. And both were very human, as imperfect as they come these days. At times they seemed such different people. He's a morning person, she a night person, She eats and drinks very healthy and he doesn't give a shit. He tries, but can't withstand the hamburgers and cigarettes. He's the showman. She's the little general. They can't do it without each other, so they work things out and respect and accept each other's differences. There is a deep sense of commitment. I thought of what Anya had said about couples, "We are in a relationship to serve the partner in his healing process." I liked that thought.

Seated at the table of one of our favorite Italian restaurants called 'Idea Pasta', we ordered more beers, wine and pasta dishes. The lively conversation continued. When Tom started one of his famous stories, I realized again how much I appreciated these precious friends.

"I think I've told you part of this story before, but I'll start at the beginning. About six years ago I was in Playa to recuperate from a near burn out from a project I was working on. After Rio's summit in '92 I was on a mission. You remember I told you that I was in the clean electrical power business in China and I had just lost a 450 million dollar loan after the economical collapse in Indonesia."

"Yes, I remember that," I said.

"So I was reading the Celestine Prophecy at the beach. Hey, I was just starting on my spiritual path. I knew everything about energy technology but I was a neophyte regarding spiritual matters. I didn't even know what chakra's were at the time. So I meet this man Franz who was reading the same book as I and we got to talk. It turned out he was staying at Sacbe as well. So he said, 'The power you really need is free power and I have it'. Turns out he is an agent for this underground scientific community in Germany trying to get these inventions out to the world that the government of course does not want to get exposed to the public. You know Tessla right?" Tom asked me.

"Yes, of course. I have one of his books," I replied.

"Well listen to this. He has one of the free remaining Tesla machines operating from his hacienda in Spain. His phones are tapped and he is constantly being watched. There are always these guys outside his house watching him from their car. He even calls them in the morning to ask if they want coffee or tea. So every time he turns on this machine it taps into the energy grid and meridians of the planet. This energy is free energy and is used to heal people. And every time he used this machine these black choppers would appear and they told him not to use it. Hey the government does not want the public to know about free energy and healing techniques to cure people from diseases like cancer or aids or anything you can think of. He needs a safe place to use it."

"And by Mexican law we are free to choose the healing techniques that we see fit," I interrupted.

"Exactly! Anyway, he gave me the name of a scientist in Germany who has the technique to use free energy. So I send one of my scientists to this man in Germany and guess what? The guy is missing! Friends told me that I was being followed as well and that my phones were tapped. It was getting a little too close so I severed the connections. Now this man Franz has recently returned into our lives to assist us in our project. He also introduced me to a close friend of his called Peter, a writer among others. He has an esoteric bookstore in Germany and is a personal friend of David Icke and Greg Braden!"

"Oh, you mean Greg Braden, the author of 'Awakening to Zero point'?"

"Exactly! That's his circle of friends. Peter even wrote a book on this 4th dimensional conspiracy stuff. Anyway, I contracted them as our European agents to seek and secure hidden technologies. And listen to this. You know that most water we consume is polluted or as dead as can be. The only living water comes from buried icebergs. Now they have discovered the healing life codes of almost prehistoric water and are able to reproduce these codes into our water. You have no idea how healing this water is for our cells. We plan to set up a plant on our site to make this water and at the same time..." Tom paused to built up the suspense.

"Free energy?" I asked.

Tom just looked at me with this knowing smirk of his. "So, Peter is going to write a book on our project. It's called 'Earth's last Stand, the worlds first true ecological city'. We named Peter our 'Torch bearer', because of his will to bring the message to the world and he has accepted his baptism. Both Peter and Franz want to move here. As a matter of fact, Franz is coming next week with his daughter."

"I would love to meet him," I said.

"This is serious now," Tom continued. "Great people start coming this way. This is no more game. This is serious now. We're riding the edge of the envelope. We're the forerunners, the way-showers. The show has begun, Paula."

I loved his sense of drama. "I know Tom. This is for real, so we can't fuck up," I said.

"We can fuck up, but we can't fail," Joanne corrected me.

"You're absolutely right Joanne. Have you noticed this shift in energy due to this transit of Venus," I asked.

 "Oh yes, absolutely," Joanne answered. "It feels like I'm moving more into my female power by using more male energy."

"That's funny, I'm shifting into a more female energy. My male energy was always more developed out of a need for survival but it's time to let go. I can feel the change, very subtle. I'm discovering a certain kind of softness in my being.  That's why I connect more with you now, Joanne. I have way more girlfriends than male friends and that used to be the other way around. This stone I'm wearing helps balancing out the male and female energy. Look, it has a cross on either side," I said while I showed the dark brown chunky stone with a light golden cross on each side. "A witch from my hometown chose this one for me. She works with crystals and minerals in her healings and counseling. Mariska, one of my best friends from Holland brought it for me as a gift. We had a good time together, a good interaction between two sisters, a lot of understanding, woman stuff, you know."

"Then as a woman I would like to ask you this: how do you know that Rodrigo is the one? You've just told me quiet a bit about him, but what's different this time? What makes you so sure?" Joanne asked.

"The strong physical reaction of my body upon his absence, that's different. And the connection we made. There is this knowing..."

"And the passion," Tom added.

"Oh yes, I live for passion. Everything I do, I do with passion. Like Saturday I went out dancing salsa and meringue with Cindy at the Mambo Cafe. I have studied the Argentinean tango for a little while but these dances had never attracted me. I decided to change my mind and give it a try. So, the place is packed but the manager welcomes and ushers us grandly inside to a table that is always reserved for Cindy. Water, lime and golden tequila's are served at our table. A great band from the Dominican Republic is heating up the dance floor and Cindy calls in some dancers to show their moves. I danced with a guy from Colombia, one from Puerto Rico and one from Venezuela. Just dancing and having fun, feeling sensual bodies rhythmically moving against mine. Simply enjoying life in the Caribbean, you know what I mean? Enjoying life, isn't that what we are here for. Enjoying life, being in joy with life, being in love with life to me is like a constant prayer to Creation. You know and the next Sunday we went to the beach, a few more Margarita's, lying on our beach beds, staring to the turquoise of the sea. God that color is so healing for the soul, that breeze cleanses our mind. I know you realize that we are very fortunate to live her in this paradise."

"Oh yes, so very fortunate," said Joanne. We talked some more and I finished the second glass of wine.  It was time to go home.

"Thank you Paula, for your energy, your laughs and your understanding. We needed this," Joanne said gratefully.

"Yes Paula, I love your energy and your famous hugs," Tom said planting a big wet kiss on my lips. Boys will be boys.

I was thankful for the inspiration they had given me. Then and now.

**CHAPTER 12.**

**SUCK IT OUT OF YOU**

I went down to pick up Cindy only to see that she was still struggling with the choice of her clothes. The imaginary overweight was always making our options limited in what to wear for the evening.

"Cindy, just face it. We have the ideal Latino body: small breasts and a beautiful big round ass," I tried to reassure her looking at her gorgeous body.

"My sister is getting a boob job soon," she replied. "She lives in Cancun and that's a whole different scene, but I'm not sure. I have thought about it."

"Listen, once I was on boat trip with some friends and we all had a good time; drinking tequila's and dancing on the rhythm of the waves and the music. So after a while I took of my clothes and you know what they said? Oh, my God, they're beautiful, they're real!"

"Yes, I heard that too, that's it's fashionable to have real breasts. You can always see it."

"The beauty of the breast depends not only on the shape of the breast, but mostly on the form of the nipple."

"Like yours; compared to Marisa's fake ones yours are so beautiful."

"Well, thank you Cindy. I think yours are beautiful too."

"Well, I'm not impressed with my nipples, but I guess they're okay."

"They're more than okay."

"So, how many men were on that boat?" Cindy asked curiously with that wicked smile on her face.

"Three," I answered sinfully.

"You're the worst! Go make us some cocktails."

"I have fresh strawberries, so I'll make us some strawberry Margarita's. I'll be back in five minutes," I said with a grin.

When we finally walked towards the car, Cindy asked me to walk in front of her.

"Oh my God, I loved your story, especially the end. Let me see your ass, I want to see it wiggle," she giggled.

We sat down at a table under a big fan, ordered our cocktails and continued our lively conversation.

"So I went to see Anya today," I informed Cindy.

"And what did she say?" she asked interested.

 "Well, this was our first session, so I talked most of the time telling my story. She's going to meditate on what techniques we are going to use. She gave me some homework as well. Simply observe my addictions. I just need to become aware how the ego works, how I keep myself in the comfort zone of a situation that is known to me, but not necessarily beneficial to my health or my spiritual growth."

"But do you call yourself an alcoholic?" she asked.

"No, of course not! I know I'm not. But I want to look at it before I will become one. I am definitely addicted to marihuana. Recently I have started taking a line once in a while and I love to drink alcohol practically every single day. Maybe only one or two drinks, but still. If I'm not careful I'll start smoking again. That's the worst, because cigarettes are in no way serving us. Marihuana and alcohol at least bring something positive," I told her.

"What do you think alcohol brings?" she asked.

"It relaxes you, it cheers you up, it adds to the celebration," I answered.

"Well, so do cigarettes," she replied.

"No! They are only bad for your health. It looks stupid and it smells gross. And here I am fucking smoking a cigarette with you."

"I didn't smoke for five years and now in this time of my life I feel I really need it. But, I also think that I can stop anytime I want."

Taking a sip from my cocktail I realized that I knew that feeling too well.

"Cindy, it's time to face reality. I mean let's be honest. I might have come up with an interesting theory about that famous night, but the truth is that I had drunk Margarita's, lots of Champagne, then many more Tequila's and I snorted a line of coke. No wonder I had a black out! I mean really... If for some miraculous reason I hadn't taken the wrong purse with me, I would have tried to drive my car back home and very likely would have crashed it, including myself. If I had dressed in a skirt instead of pants, I would have fucked Rodrigo right there on the top of my car, not caring if anybody could see us. Cindy, I might be an exhibitionist and I might not give a flying fuck what people think, but this was a little overdone. People know I'm a wild woman, but I can't afford this kind of exposure. I cannot afford to loose all my personal stuff. I'm a known person in this community. I have promised myself that this would never ever happen again. And I have noticed that I have become much more careful."

"Paula, I see you as such a strong and responsible person. I can't imagine that an addiction would influence your life in a destructive way."

"Well, look again. All the addictions are there. Let's look at sex. I might have decided that I'm dedicated to one person, but I'm so fucking horny all the time. I can't continue to fuck every guy I can get my hands on," I said a little frustrated.

"But don't you think it's more the hunt? For me it's important that I can wrap them around my finger," Cindy replied.

"Sure for me too. But I have more that male energy that just wants to fuck. After my orgasm I just want them to leave: '... _you can go now..._ ' __ Satisfied I can fall asleep and not think about it another second."

"I wish I could feel like that. Tell me again that story about that guy that you kicked out of your bed."

"Oh yes, that's a great story! Well, we were having sex, but he really wasn't giving me as much attention as he should and when he suddenly came on my face I got really pissed. You don't come onto someone's face without asking and certainly not when you don't know each other so well. So, I moved to the bathroom washing his come from my face and even out of my eye and that really hurts I can tell you. Fucking ass hole this, fucking ass hole that, I was swearing, but I decided to give him another chance. He could still make up for it and bring me a good orgasm. Guess what? He was kind off done with the whole thing. So I said to him, 'That's all you're giving me? Not even one lousy orgasm? I think you better go now. Just get the fuck out of my bed!' Cindy, you should have seen his face. Girls lie at his feet but no woman had ever said a thing like that to him. I fell asleep like a rose, but he later told me that he had felt like shit for days. Poor guy."

We both laughed.

"I saw my admirer again today at the gym," I continued with our favorite subject of men and sex.

"Yes, I saw him following you with his eyes everywhere. Now that he can't have you, he wants you more then ever," Cindy added.

"But I was surprised at what you advised me when I told you that I wouldn't be able to look his girlfriend in the eye if I would fuck her man. You said: 'Just don't think about it when you see her.' But that's not right. There are certain ethics and rules. Don't do unto others..."

"Oh Paula, be honest. You have fucked married men. If you really like the man, you don't give a shit and you go for it."

"Very true. But it's still not right. You don't steal; you don't steal some one else's guy. And I know I can come up with a million reasons to justify my action. I'm not stealing anything, I'm just borrowing or the pleasure I'm giving him will excite him to have more sex with his girlfriend. It's all bullshit and I want look at it."

"Paula, I so admire you. You just face your addictions, without any judgment you just look at them. It's so good that you do that. They will disappear when you're pregnant but they'll surface again after a while. I see that with my sister. God, you'll be so beautiful when you're pregnant. I can't wait to see you pregnant."

I smiled at the idea of having the miracle of a new life inside of me.

"Addictions or not, let's be honest. I do live an extremely healthy lifestyle. Rise and shine at six, drinking lots of water and fresh fruit and vegetable juices, eating mostly vegetarian and taking my food supplements. I practice or teach yoga every single day, except for Sunday of course. All my money goes to my health: therapy, cleansings, yoga trainings, massages, bodywork, you name it. I'm really taking good care of myself.  On top of that I'm a very responsible and hardworking businesswoman, I'm exploring my talents in writing and singing and I'm volunteering with yoga at a health clinic for poor Mexican people. What more do you want?"

"Oh, you superwoman!" Cindy said teasingly.

"I know darling!" I answered with my theatrical flair. "But seriously, I think you have to look if any of the controlled substances are serving you. Obviously smoking cigarettes is not serving in any way, shape or form. Another thing that's not serving me is cocaine. The times that I had a black out was always because of the consumption of cocaine, so I have decided to leave that one out of my menu. Smoking marihuana serves me because for one it keeps me from smoking cigarettes. I have smoked for twenty-five years and at least it gives me that sense of smoke flowing in and out of my lungs. That little thumb when you inhale, you know. I have set up a long list of positive things that marihuana brings me. Of course I have reversed the list and had to look at what I'm missing in my life when I don't smoke. Well, that's not a pretty picture. But one of the best things about marihuana is the intensity of my orgasms. Oh God, they're so intense when I have smoked. And that has served my yoga. It has actually been beneficial to my yoga practice, because without knowing it I had been practicing locking my 'bandas'. This connection I discovered during the yoga teacher training with Tim Miller. He was showing us the shape of the stomach when you completely exhale and pull in your energy locks. I thought: 'What the heck! The looks exactly the same when I have a very intense orgasm and I pull that climax inside, you know trying to pull it up my spine.' The girl next to me was struggling with the movement, so I whispered in her ear: 'Do you know how it feels when you have a very strong orgasm? That's how you use this technique.' She looked at me a little awkward, but she tried and with a big smile she showed me her stomach. But how do you explain that to a guy?"

"Okay, but did you tell Tim?" she asked with a grin.

"I didn't think it was appropriate at that time, but next time I will share my discovery," I said with the same kind of grin.

"Eventually you'll be able to raise your Kundalini energy," Cindy added.

I already knew I could. I had done so during a spiritual ritual in Palenque last December.

"You know Cindy, I think that we just want to be high, because deep down inside we know that this reality is not real," I continued my story.

"You think we're being controlled?" she asked seriously.

"Absolutely! You know the story of the Matrix. The basic theory of that movie is not far from the truth. We're only being told part of our history. Suddenly there were these advanced Sumerian and Mesopotamian cultures. Everything that happened before is being kept from us. Why? Just imagine ancient cultures so much more advanced than ours. A fragment in this Milky Way we are. Not just this planet, but this whole galaxy is nothing but a speck in the Universe. To me it seems a little arrogant to think we're the only ones with civilization. All the time evidence is being discovered that there were very advanced cultures long before the time that our so-called history began. These ancient cultures had direct contact with extraterrestrial beings. Because some of these beings were spiritually and technologically so advanced that they we're considered gods here on Earth. Okay, imagine this. There is a war between the gods and the bad guys win and take over the planet. The ones who win write the history. Like robots we have been put together. They genetically created the human being as we are today; mind slaves without knowing it. In the old Sumerian tablets and many other scriptures you can find evidence for this theory. Here you have your Neanderthal and suddenly there is a modern human being. Missing link my ass! The best way to control us is to make us believe that we're not being controlled, but all the evidence is out there. We have a responsibility to inform ourselves."

Cindy looked at me as if she actually believed what she had just heard. "You are the most interesting person I know. You are amazing. You are so unique. You know that don't you?" she said admiringly. "You know so much. You have all this wisdom inside of you and I just want to suck it out of you. Do you realize how powerful you are? You have this invisible wall around you. Some people are actually scared of you, but you're not afraid of anything. I can see it in your eyes. You are so real."

I smiled at her and thought of the insecure little girl I felt myself at times; a little girl starving for recognition and a little respect.

"I love you!" Cindy said while putting her arm around my waist.

I ordered another mineral water. Not because my consciousness told me so, but because I felt like drinking water after two cocktails.

**CHAPTER 13.**

**THE BLACK MESSENGER**

I started to miss him. A little disappointed for lack of news I drove towards my house, undecidedly about were to eat lunch. At the last moment I pulled the wheel to the right, thinking of the Italian restaurant on the corner. I parked my car and started walking towards 'Il Baretto' when a tall, black guy with a familiar face appeared around the corner.

"My saving angel!" I called out passionately.

I practically danced towards him when my heart jumped up like never before. My fellow countryman and I started talking in our own language and immediately we felt comfortable like old friends.

"Hey Alcides! How are you doing man? God, am I glad to see you," I continued with the same zeal.

"Paula! We're does all this happiness comes from?" this peaceful man answered, a little overthrown by my enthusiasm.

"Oh, you have no idea how happy I am to see you. I knew I would bump into you. I just knew it!"

We laughed and hugged and decided to have lunch together. We sat down at one of the corner tables and ordered beer, wine, salads and sandwiches.

"Listen, Rodrigo and I have shared and exchanged many things, except an email address. I don't have his email address. I know you must have it because you are good friends," I said while taking a sip from my white wine.

"No, I don't have it.  I thought you might have it," he answered dryly.

"Are you telling me that you don't have his email?"  I asked slightly panicked.

"Alejandra must have it, you know my girlfriend," he answered calmly. "I can send it to you tomorrow."

Like three years ago, it was the girlfriend who was the key figure between the messenger and me.

"I knew it," I said with a big smile. "Because tomorrow is day twenty-six. June thirteen was our last day together and I wrote thirteen pages to connect again in thirteen days. Three times thirteen, that makes thirty-nine, makes twelve, makes three. The Holy Trinity..."

"Si. And thirty-nine is your age," he added with a meaningful smile.

"I had missed that one," I admitted surprised.

"So, tell me what's happening?" he asked me brotherly.

"Oh man, he has given me so much inspiration; I just had to write. The words kept on flowing. You as an artist must know that feeling. You simply cannot do anything else but design and create jewelry. Every spare moment you have to create."

"Si, I know that feeling. I know exactly what you mean."

"Oh, my heart is pounding like crazy again. You know, I have shared intimacies with him that I have not shared with anyone before in my life," I said a little shy.

"I see. He is an exceptional human being. So you met at Pia's party right?"

"Yes, what a party..." I said with a deep sigh

"Exactly, what a party..." Alcides said with the same deep sigh.

It was good to hear that Rodrigo's guides had been working overtime as well in order to get him at the right location. He almost didn't make it. And it was just as good to hear that my dirty dancing and French kissing with Marcy, one of the owners of the 'Tequila Barrel', was outdone by some locals who had appeared to be in a more intoxicated state then I. Our lunch was served and we continued our conversation.

"So you're from Amsterdam right?" I asked.

"Well, originally I'm from the Cape Verde Islands," he answered.

"I know that. I searched for you in the Internet. I tried about four different emails, but they all kept being returned. You studied for gold and silver smith in Amsterdam and you have won many international awards for your work. Rodrigo showed me some of your pieces and I was truly impressed. I read a lot of intimate stuff on the Internet about you and your wife. It was an open forum with letters from your wife. But why do you keep on saying your girlfriend?"

"Because my wife lives in Amsterdam and I live here..."

"With your girlfriend," I interrupted. "I got it."

 "Si."

From the tone of his voice and the look in his eyes I understood this was not his favorite subject, so I changed the topic.

"And how long have you've been living here?" I asked again.

"About four years. Si."

"Me too! Don't you just love living here?"

"Si. You bet! This is paradise."

"Wouldn't it be terrifying to wake up one morning back in Holland. Just imagine. Really, that would be a complete nightmare. Instant depression would descend on me."

"Wow, that bad hey? Well, I guess I feel really good here in Playa, a feeling of... how do you say..."

"A feeling of gratefulness," I filled in.

"Exactly!  A deep sense of thankfulness," he added with this content smile.

"Yes, I love living here in this small town. I'm from a big city, but here I love that I know everybody and that everybody knows me. I love the magic that you can still feel here."

"Si, that magic is very tangible here."

"It's like I can really blossom here, I finally get a chance to develop all my talents. In Playa I really started to write, to sing, to grow in my yoga. Here is where I started to develop my business instincts. I mean I always knew I would be a good businesswoman, but somebody just had to give me a chance. My partner was the one who recognized it and gave me the opportunity I had been waiting for. I mean he is _the_ businessman: a degree in law, a degree in economics, an MBA in business administration. He moves in the highest circles," I said proudly.

"What business did you do exactly?"

"Property Management. It happened to cross our path. Don't get me wrong. It's not my life's fulfillment. My answer to stressed out people with minor maintenance problems would be: go home, get laid and come back in the morning."

Alcides broke out in laughter.

"What I do like is making a business successful and to lead my team."

"But with your business, didn't you have to get used to the slow pace in the beginning? Wasn't it hard for you to get used to the rhythm here?" he asked.

"Of course I had to get used to the manaña culture, but I automatically switched to that tempo in a couple of months. Now I don't know any better. I make a plan, but I go with the flow. There is time now to enjoy the magical enfolding of life. It's natural here. Whenever the stressed energy of Holland affects me and I decide to work 'really' hard, something will happen to stop that. Either I get sick or something else will get in the way. You know what I mean?" I asked.

"Yes, that's the way it goes here in Playa. That's the magic of paradise," he added.

"I love that about this place; all this magical energy, don't you?"

"Si," he said again with that peculiar nasal tone.

"That's Portuguese right?" I asked.

"Yes, that's what we speak where I was born."

"I lived in Brazil for six months, in Salvador Bahia mostly. I still understand Portuguese, but I kind of have forgotten how to speak it. Well, it's been seven years. "

"I only know a few words, since I was raised in Holland."

"Next to Rio I think that Salvador Bahia is the most beautiful city in Brazil. It's an old colonial city with still so many African influences. You see it everywhere, in the food, the music, the fashion, and religion. Really beautiful people."

I saw him glow when I watched his silky ebony skin.

"But can you make a living from your jewelry?" I asked him. "I mean, we all know it's not easy to do business in Mexico. Else everybody would move here, right?"

"Well, I can pay my rent and eat. I had built up a nice clientele in Mexico City, but little by little I'm finding my circle of customers here. It was a very interesting time there. I worked on a project helping the street kids to make jewelry. Have you ever imagined what it would be like if you have absolutely no one in the world and you're hungry?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I have thought about that."

"They don't trust anybody, absolutely nobody. That's survival at its core. It was dangerous. It was hard to get accepted."

"I know. And do you know why they accepted you?"

"Tell me..."

"Because of your eyes," I said, thinking about the connection I had made with the prostitutes in Salvador Bahia, helping to translate the small conversations with their customers. I thought of the dark streets I had roamed with them at night, watching the crack junkies, feeling at ease between these dark obscure scenes of life. "They can see if you're real. They can smell it."

"Exactly, they can smell it," Alcides agreed.

"Smell is the most direct sense organ we know. A smell immediately brings you memories and emotions that are connected to that scent."

"Si, that's right. It's very powerful."

"Hey, last night was the official opening of that new place in Paseo del Carmen called 'Moon'," I announced suddenly.

"Yes. I've heard about it. How was it?" he asked curiously.

"The place is designed beautifully; three floors with a spectacular view. It was packed with young and good-looking people, I think mostly from D.F. and Cancun. And it was nice to see a lot of locals of course. But I thought to myself: this is what's left from the house scene and it's not my scene anymore, you know what I'm saying?" I asked him.

"Yes, the house scene has changed. It's not like in the old days anymore," he agreed.

"Oh, do you remember the beginning. My God, these wild parties, the trance beat of that music, the freaky people, the extravagant costumes, the ecstasy, that tribal feeling. Don't you miss that here, a place with a big dance floor in the middle," I continued dreamily.

"Oh yes, like in Amsterdam in the IT and the Escape," Alcides filled in.

"Maybe, in a couple of years, when Playa is ready for it, I'll open my own place with a huge dance floor and many stages with incredible dancers and fantasy costumes, with bizarre performers swinging through the air and only the best DJ's from all over the world," I continued enthusiastically.

"Just like Ibiza but better. Did you know that there are fifty-two dance places with house music in New York?" he asked me.

"Really? Wow, we're missing something here. I'm planning to go to New York in October for this Yoga Conference. And to see Rodrigo for his birthday of course."

"I'll come with you!"

"Yeah! That would be great. We'll have so much fun," I called out excitedly.

"Still, it's a little strange that we haven't heard from him," Alcides said changing the subject.

"Do you think he might be stuck at immigration?" I asked a little worried.

"No, I don't think so. That boy is surrounded by luck. My girlfriend has known him for seven years and she has told me that everything around him always goes magically smooth," he reassured me.

"Still, I need to contact him. He doesn't even know how I feel. I mean, I only found out when he was gone. He thinks I have a settled life here with my partner, a lover here and there. He probably thinks we're just friends who connected in a very special way only to see each other again, maybe one day...until we meet again...to be continued... He has something to come back for now."

"He definitely has," Alcides said with this certainty in his voice.

After we finished our lunch and paid the bill we finally said goodbye with a warm hug.

"So, you'll send it to me?" I asked reassuringly.

"Absolutely. Maybe even tonight."

Every time the magic actually did enfold I felt this growing glow inside.

**CHAPTER 14.**

**VOICES FROM THE PAST**

Like the first session I talked a lot. Again. There was a lot to tell. It was time to tell her in detail my view on my relationship with Dick. I quoted her statement on relationships: "We are in a relationship to help our partner in their healing process." I told her that I felt that so strongly within my relationship with Dick.  And at last I told her about Rodrigo.

This time I told Anya much more about the sacred plants that I had worked with and how these rituals had been my ultimate therapy; a direct therapy with the Goddess inside. I had brought some books on the subject for her to study.

"Here, especially this one titled 'DMT; the Spirit Molecule', written by Richard Strassman M.D. The research that is documented in this book was funded by the DEA, which makes it even more interesting since DMT is the active ingredient in Ayahuasca, this sacred and entheogenic drink from the Amazons I told you about. The pineal gland secretes the same substance during moments of near death experiences or deep mystical experiences. For the research they reproduced a chemical variety of DMT that they injected. Each and every person who voluntarily participated in this research, had profound and life altering experiences, a deepened sense of spirituality and a profound respect for Mother Nature."

At the end of our session we talked about the observance of my addictions.

"I was surprised at how non-judgmental I could look at my addictions. Well, of course it's not that surprising. I mean, I'm a Goddess having an experience as an ordinary and very imperfect human being so who am I to judge myself. I need all of these experiences to fulfill the contract of my life, to complete my mission," I commented with a big smile.

"Right on," Anya added. "Anything that stood out or that you want to share?"

"Well, I know I'm not an alcoholic and I still think cigarettes are gross. But I'm definitely addicted to smoking marihuana and sex is not that easy to give up either." Anya looked at me in a way that invited me to continue. "Well, last weekend, this old lover of mine came by and we talked a little bit and although I realized that there was not much left of the sensual tension there used to be, I still had sex with him. I was so glad when he finally left. I felt like shit afterwards. No guilt or judgment towards myself or anything like that, just this awful feeling. And it felt good that I could feel this, almost like a relief that I could finally feel something so natural. I actually enjoyed feeling bad over this. No, there was no judgment. Of course not.  Anya, how many times have you said: one for the road?"

"Keep on trying to look at how your ego plays an important role in this game, try to see what's beneath the surface of your addictions. Look at your darkest sides and observe that. Maybe you can write some about that?" she asked me, ending our session with this homework.

"I'm sure I'll have something to write about. You know the Universe will send us many tests," I said with a grin.

Well, it didn't take long for the dark to come seeping in through all the creaks of the safely built home I had created for all the voices in my head. I imagined they were all different parts of my personality that popped up whenever they had a chance to speak out or when a certain situation forced them to voice themselves.

The very next day I walked down Fifth and felt a familiar wave of rage spill over me. With a misleading smile on my face I observed the people that walked by me and I imagined that if only one of those brainless tourist would even dare to look at me in the wrong way I would punch him in the face. Just like that. With brutal force I would knock out one of their stupid lights. How I had enjoyed the scenes when Lucy Liu, one of the lawyers in a popular TV series, would turn into this fantasy monster. I could just see myself turning into this reptile like giant with rows and rows of razor sharp teeth and with enormous claws ripping someone's head off, blood gushing out of his decapitated body, splashing against innocent bystanders, pouring down the street where little children started screaming in terror. I would take one of these small kids and devour that young body in two bites, proudly and ferociously looking at all the bystanders that by now went sick from fear. I could imagine not feeling anything, just wanting more blood and more and more. Don't worry; it can get darker than this.

So, where did all this anger come from? Or better, what was beneath all this fury? Well, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that below my wrath I could find fear. My fear, fear of being hurt. I was terrified of being hurt again now that I had opened my heart. So the anger was actually directed towards myself. The many voices started a symphony of scenes, one after the other.

"How could you?"

"How dare you?"

"How can you even consider opening your heart again?"

"Don't you know by now what happens?"

"You know by now that you're going to get hurt!"

"How can you be so stupid? Romantic fool!"

 "I've warned you over a thousand times, you gullible little girl."

"Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!"

"God woman, you're stupid!"

The gloom stayed where it was and I returned home not knowing what to do with all that negativity walking down the streets. I put on my favorite Jazz divas and tried to talk some sense into the voices, but they continued with viciousness as if their lives depended on it. And in a way it did.

"What were you thinking?"

"Opening your heart like that and on top of it sharing your most intimate thoughts."

"Eventually, anything you say can and will be used against you!"

"Dick is proving you wrong," I interfered, joining the heated discussion in my head, "He is showing me that I can trust a man."

"But you're not in love with the man, so he can't hurt you. Don't you see?"

I had not made that connection before.

"That's why you have young lovers, so you can't be hurt. And now you think you're in love with this guy, he's just a little boy! You scared the shit out of him with your passion. He can't handle your passion. No one can. You will have to deal with that all by yourself. One of these days you'll get an email from him saying: 'You are a very beautiful and very fascinating woman, but I'm sorry girl, I don't feel the same way. I hope we can be friends.' And what's this airy-fairy stuff with numbers and Jesus and the Magdalene. Give me a fucking break!"

The sarcasm in the tone of voice had gotten to me. I imagined reading such a message from him and I started crying like a little child. The sounds of little girls voicing words of fear echoed in my head.

"Please...please don't hurt me..."

"Please...no...no...no..."

"No...don't hurt me, don't hurt me..."

I observed these emotions from a distance and realized that through the opening of my heart, I had opened a door to the pain and the tears that came from the voices; hidden voices from a distant past; voices from me.

"Look at you, you look like a fucking mess!"

"Aren't we being relentless today!" I hauled back with sarcasm, tears and anger.

"Well lady, it's a full moon and you're having your period, so there's every reason to get to the bottom of this. You catch my drift?"

"Be my guest," I answered irritated and bitchy.

"You truly are an ungrateful bitch! Look at what you have around you; such a rich and fulfilling life in paradise, a wonderful man who admires and adores you, great friends. What more do you want? No! It's not enough. She must be messing up everything. Do you have any idea how much work it takes to keep everything quiet back here? You opened doors that should have remained closed. You've opened their doors and they're terrified and they're crying!"

Suddenly I saw the little girls, every one safely locked away behind a door. All these little girls, each one a part of me, one beaten, one humiliated, one raped, and many more, all securely protected in the isolation of a hidden memory. Hidden for the sake of sanity. I saw them and heard their sobs of total despair, their cries of torturous pain and their silence for being ignored. I embraced them like a maternal Goddess, transforming their pain into hope and joy.

I cried for them. I cried for myself. Finally.

**CHAPTER 15.**

**JUST A GIGOLO**

My Russian friend Svetlana came by my office in the late afternoon for some girl talk. I closed the door to my office space.

"Svetlana, I have to face it. I even have to stop smoking pot."

"Oh for God's sake! You live so healthy. I don't know anybody who works so hard. Promise yourself to go to New York when you hear from him."

"I don't have any money. I spent everything on the dentist."

"You always work so hard, saving money for something. Be silly, be a woman, spend money!"

"I'm not like that, you know that. Oh, I'm so in love with Rodrigo, but still I can't imagine a life without Dick."

"Paula, I think he didn't read it yet. He needs more time. You know how guys are. I'm so happy for you that you finally found love and passion in your life. You deserve it. I always feel like a mother towards you and all I want is for you to be happy. What you have been through is enough for seven lives, so you deserve beautiful things around you. Of all the friends I have here in Playa I admire you the most. I don't know anybody who works as hard as you do. And I don't mean just business."

"I don't know. I'm so confused."

Indeed Svetlana was like a mother to me. She cooked for me three times a week and delivered the three course vegetarian meals to my house. I didn't even need to be home to receive them, because she had a key to my house. Of course I paid her for those catering services and it kept her family fed. I wouldn't know what to do without her healthy and delicious food, nor without the monthly trips to Cancun. They were like therapy sessions without feeling bad, talking about everything in our lives. She was a peculiar, but very intelligent and spiritual woman with a great knowledge on health and food. She was even working on a book about Mayan medicinal plants with Maria, the egg lady.

When we drove off to Cancun in my little Beetle we started our trip smoking a big fat joint and continued to do so 'till late afternoon. It was our day out. We left the real fun part for after the obligatory rounds to Sam's, Walmart and Costco, where we purchased supplies for my office and our own kitchens. At 'Plaza Las Americas' we took our time to shop for bargains on shoes, yoga clothes, Jazz CD's and finally the ultimate dress to dress the part; the Jazz Diva.

When I sang, all I thought of was Rodrigo. When I sang he was in my head and in my heart. I was convinced he felt it. Every single song was for him. Every song was for every lonely woman out there in the world. I knew how it felt. I had been lonely for so long. So long.

After yoga I went to the beach club 'Mamita's' with Cindy. It was just before noon and we ordered a Margarita.

"Hey, every now and then you need to indulge. Sometimes we work seven days a week, so don't feel guilty okay?" Cindy started, mostly reassuringly herself.

I still hadn't been able to rid my self of the guilt when I allowed myself the freedom not to work on a weekday. The imprint that those moments were for Saturdays or Sundays was very strong.

"Forget about the guilt. How about sadness?" I asked.

"I know for a fact that he didn't read your letter yet," Cindy replied.

"Myrna said I shouldn't wait for him. I should go on and enjoy life."

"Paula, I know he didn't read it yet."

"My friend Bianca in Holland also said I should go on and enjoy life; that I'm not ready yet."

"I know he didn't read it."

"But I'm so horny all the time. I know Cindy, I have to go through this. But sometimes I think, shall I call Sah, 'Hi sweetheart, want to come over and smoke a joint?' But then I think that the only one I want is Rodrigo. I only want him. That's all."

"There will be more tests."

"Yes, many more. I now realize that I will not meet him until I'm completely healed. Now more than ever, I'm motivated to face it all, to go right through all that shit. Whatever it takes. I may be saving up for a trip to Chili, but that one won't be made before I've made my own journey."

"You are wise," she said with a certain admiration in her voice.

"I've also decided to let go of all the ingredients of my addictions. No dope, no alcohol, no sex, nothing. I'm going cold turkey, raw. It's about time I start to feel things. I can't continue just numbing everything. Let's be honest, I look forward to the moment at the end of the day to smoke some pot and gulp down a few cocktails. Every single day."

"I hear you."

"As long as I haven't healed my addictions and transformed myself, he will not appear on my path. That's very clear. Honestly, if he would be here right now, I wouldn't be able to resist all the temptations of too long nights with too many stimulants. I first need to heal myself and really become my true self. From that place I can really love him and inspire him."

The Universe truthfully started sending me test after test, day after day. One night there was this cute one nightstand that I had kidnapped a few months before from a local dance club after a weeklong yoga teacher training. It was the first time since that passionate night in February that he had dared to come to my doorstep. He left within minutes when I politely clarified to him that his visit was unwelcome due to the late hour and my early yoga class. Another day there was this guy from Guatemala who stopped me on the street to ask me for a date. He was cute, but an email address was all he could get, my business that was. Then there was a night another lover from the past started yelling my name under my balcony. ' _Fuck...!_ ' I thought and rushed down the three flights of stairs to open the gate and shut him up. He was intoxicated and I told him that he could sleep in his usual room, the other bedroom.

"So you've send me three in a row," I said to the Universe, "Come on guys, you can do better than that! Send me something I can chew on. This is too easy. I need a little challenge." And so the Universe did. The very next day he appeared next to my side. He looked like a young god with long dark curls and a sexy twinkle in his eye, as delicious as they come. 'Now we're talking!' I thought. It took a little more effort, actually quite a bit. I resisted.

One evening I checked my emails and found an interesting one from Bianca about the twenty-two portals and the eleven chakra points of the earth. The first chakra, the top of the crown, which represented the Christ portal, the sacred portal that was the connection to the Christ Consciousness, was located at Punta Arena in Chili. I drew silent for a moment. Chili. 'This must be a symbol,' I thought. 'Look at all the symbols. Don't lose your faith. He is the one.'

This morning I heard his name where we once ran into each other. That must be symbol. This afternoon I ran into his former boss, the German Peter.

"Forget about him. He's a gigolo," he said.

Of course Rodrigo had told me about a few occasions when lonely women at resorts had paid for his company. I had trusted him with the secret about Dick and me, something that nobody in Playa knew anything about. Either way, it was another symbol. I had to pay attention. I couldn't lose the faith. He was the one. We could go to Chili and find this portal.

It was the 13th. It was exactly a month ago that he had left and I still hadn't heard anything from him. With all my wisdom and my ability to take some emotional distance and put everything into perspective, I still couldn't let go. I woke up with Rodrigo in my thoughts; I went to bed with Rodrigo in my thoughts. Everywhere I heard his voice. Constantly I saw his face. It was becoming more intense, instead of fading away. I missed him so terribly much. I was so very sad. Every night in bed I cried.

If the hurt was that bad, so all engulfing, so horribly painful, there was only one thing left to do. I had to go home. I couldn't bare this ache anymore. I had to go to Palenque and find some answers through my beloved mushrooms.

**CHAPTER 16.**

**GOING TO NEW YORK**

The night bus to Palenque only took twelve hours and as usual I had slept wonderfully in the reclining seat with my own down pillow, which I had brought with me. When I arrived at 'El Panchan', magically one of 'Rakshita's' cabañas had become available that gave me much privacy and I paid for the three nights I had planned to stay before returning to my busy life in Playa.

Despite my focused determination to find some answers concerning the situation with Rodrigo, I felt so awfully sad that I simply missed him so much. After all this time I still missed him so very much. Everywhere I looked I saw his face. All the time I heard his deep warm voice and again tears started rolling down my cheeks. Emotionally and physically I was hurting over the fact that I had allowed him so deep into my system and that I couldn't find a way to let go. I needed more answers.

I had reserved one day for the ceremony with my beloved mushrooms at Rakshita's meditation temple, but unfortunately I was only able to find some dried ones. I opened the ceremony as I had done four years before at the exact same spot and I started to meditate. Two hours later, as I was still meditating, I realized that the visions wouldn't come this time. Maybe it was the potency of the dried mushrooms or maybe because I was too sad to open my heart. I could do nothing but accept the situation and continue to meditate.

I had to look for symbols. They were always there and all I had to do was find them. Somebody had given me a book that I was reading right now. Maybe there was a clue in the story. It was about a doctor's wife stuck in Iran, waiting for her husband who was still in Los Angeles. The wife had a lover who had been detained shortly for a problem with his visa. Maybe Rodrigo was stuck at immigration or something? I picked up the stack of Tarot cards I had brought with me and pulled out one card, the eight of swords, an image of a woman tied up and her eyes bound so she can't see. I thought of Rodrigo, tied up and imprisoned. Suddenly a bolt of energy went right through me, which gave me a strong feeling that something important depended on me. I could not imagine that this feeling had anything to do with me being responsible for releasing Rodrigo from immigration. This had to be about me. In time I would get to understand exactly what or who depended on me.

"Why do you always look so serious and sad?" asked the man with the big white beard the last night when I was having dinner at 'Don Mucho'. "You are so beautiful when you smile."

I smiled. He was right. This short trip had been everything I wanted it to be. I had spent three nights and three days in the magical jungles of Palenque in a perfect sweet cabaña, simply doing nothing but hanging in a hammock and just 'being' there. I had practiced yoga, meditated and had a beautiful ceremony even though I hadn't received the clear visions I had expected, but I had the beginning of an answer. I was looking forward to my next therapy session with Anya to discuss my findings.

It was good to come back home and see the turquoise ocean, smell the salty sea air and hear my favorite Playa birds, the 'X'kau's' as they are known by their Mayan name.

Something had changed. A sense of purpose kept me from being sad. In my head I had made a little plan to go to New York. Still, there was something odd. I did not see myself spending all this time in New York looking for him. I did not see myself as his savior. I was long past that stage since my last disastrous attempt to save somebody from his alcoholism two years before. The only one that needed to be rescued was I. But the thought still made a beautiful romantic story.

My next session with Anya indeed did bring more answers. I told her about the anger and the fear of the voices of all the little girls in my head. I told her about my trip to Palenque, the Tarot card of someone locked up, my idea of Rodrigo being stuck at immigration, locked up and the idea of going to New York.

"Look Paula, relationships are present in our lives to heal each other. So here I see that the relationship you have with Rodrigo serves as a clear channel to heal those little girls," she started.

"You think so?"

"How much time do you want to spent looking for this guy and how much time do you want to spent healing the pain of these little girls. If your relationship to this man is only there to give yourself an opening and an opportunity to make these little girls a part of yourself again instead of a separated illusion, then that is the purpose of this relationship."

"And he got me writing again."

"There you go."

"Just like Jayms!"

"Who's Jayms?"

"That's a whole different chapter. From the past," I laughed.

"Those little girls, give them love, from that wholeness give them your love."

"I understand."

"The theme here is someone being locked up. Can you see that it's the little girls that are safely locked up in their individual rooms? Now finally they are carefully coming out and instead of you nurturing them and giving them your love and care, you are chasing after something external that you ultimately will have to find inside yourself. This we call the illusion of separation."

"Oh, I see the bigger picture now, on a spiritual level."

"And if you might happen to meet him at immigration or whatever, that's beautiful. Or you might see him skating by at Central Park. Or the Universe had different plans. But it's not about him. It's about you."

"Yes, you are so right Anya. This is about me healing myself."

"And who says you shouldn't go to New York to do yoga, to sing and to discover the Goddess inside of you?"

"You are right! What am I doing? I already have the perfect partner by my side. Why can't I see that, when it's right there staring me in the face?"

"And the part that you are addicted to is missing in this relationship and there is a reason for that, you see?"

"Oh yes, I see the bigger picture. I feel so much better now. I see the spiritual connections. Anya, you are really good."

"It takes two people to make these sessions work. With you I see an incredible eagerness to learn and that serves our progress."

"Well, we're going to take a little break because I'm going to New York."

"That's right. We'll pick it up when you are ready. In the mean time... Have fun! Have lots of fun! Enjoy every single second!"

"I certainly will," I said with a twinkle I my eye, thinking about all the new possibilities that would arise to meet interesting men and have great sex, all night long. "And before I'll leave I will send you those links on mushrooms and Ayahuasca, especially the ones that have references to the therapeutic use with addictions and trauma. Actually, then you would be interested in the therapeutic use of ecstasy as well."

"That would be great. I'm fascinated."

"You should be."

**CHAPTER 17.**

**NOT THE ONE**

A few days after my last session with Anya, I finally received a very long email from Rodrigo. He apologized for not writing before, but he was consumed with survival, not permitting him to form one sentence after the other over equally strong emotions. He thanked me for all my incredibly accurate described letters that had given him so much joy. He continued to beautifully describe in detail his life in New York and his future plans to move to San Francisco, like a true writer and he ended with 'another kiss'.

_' How is Playa? Sometimes I bath myself in memories so clear, and I surround myself with a sensation of perfection. Everything is so easy in Playa. Walking over Fifth, the walk to 'La Rana', and to see so many familiar faces... It seems so easy that I'm not ready yet to return. I'm still missing some action, adrenaline and a desperation that will validate to relax with a quiet life in paradise. A few months more and a few thousand dollars and everything will be perfect._

I see you so clearly reflected in the mirror in front of your bed. Your perfect and supple muscles... meanwhile I enter you with my hand and my tongue and... ahhh Playa del Carmen! A big kiss. When are you arriving? I thought your trip was in October. Another kiss.'

He is not the one.

Rodrigo,

Sometimes you just have to go through a period of your life all by yourself. That's why you have to be where you are. I understand what you're saying; the action, the adrenaline, and the desperation that needs to hunger for a quiet life in paradise. Oh yes, paradise is so beautiful; it's truly magical but at times so incredibly boring.

I don't know if it's wise for me to come to SF. Maybe it was just a romantic frill that Cindy and I had cooked up. I thought it would be interesting to get a chance to see each other in a big city outside this little idyllic town. I did realize that if not this time, then someday I will return to that city. The thought of this journey brought back so many memories of a most painful and sad period of my life, but therefore so rich in life's experiences, the darker sides of life that I feel so strongly drawn to and that are an intricate part of who I am.

Suddenly I saw myself visiting the Jazz bar I worked as a striptease dancer, the restaurant I worked to support my habits, the luxurious penthouse I lived as a caged princess owned by the drug lord who resembled my father in too many ways, and ultimately the junky house full of aids addicts where I finally ended up. I realize that, now that I'm going through intense periods of healing, this walk down memory lane seems such a natural part of this process. We'll see.

I long for you. I long to talk to you and explore your beautiful mind, I long to wake up next to you and observe your sleeping face and more than anything I long for the endless passionate nights of surrender, but with the passing years comes a patience and a deep knowing that every day is perfect as it is and that we'll meet when we will, whenever that is.

May you find what you are looking for...

Paula

**CHAPTER 18.**

**IN LOVE WITH HIS MIND**

Playa del Carmen, September 2004

Rodrigo,

It's been a while since we communicated, so I thought I'd give you a little update on my life.

My flight to New York was canceled due to a hurricane raging over Florida.  I left a couple of days later and rescheduled my return flight so I could extend my vacation to the max. No witchy number thirteen ranges, but there's a reason for everything.

I stayed with an Italian art director that I met during my Ashtanga Yoga teacher training last February. We're just good friends. No romantic or sexual stuff. Just buddies. I slept in the King size bed and he slept on the couch. It was a very basic studio, but no complaints from my part since I was staying in one of the most trendy neighborhoods of Manhattan; the Meatpacking District. Like most ambitious and successful people in New York, Andrea was no exception in being completely devoured by his professional career. Only twice in my two week visit we had a chance to have a drink and talk a little. Twice that meant a glass of Champagne at the Soho House on a quiet Sunday evening, my nights of arrival and departure, the first one framed with beautiful fireworks as if to welcome me in a star like way.

My days in New York, filled with intoxicated parties and many lonely days roaming through crowded streets and avenues, were thankfully interchanged for a few quiet days with my fellow yoga teacher in New Jersey. I've met Ann during the Baron Baptiste yoga teacher training a few months ago. We briefly connected in Tulum and during my stay with her in Ridgewood we found out why we had discovered this unexplainable connection; her mother was a real witch. Now we're organizing yoga workshops together both in New Jersey and here in Playa. The focus of the workshops in Playa will be 'Balance in Paradise': a balance between practicing a healthy yoga life style and enjoying the nightlife and all the related fruits of Playa's paradise.

Despite the difficulty to connect with strangers and the loneliness that always seem to trickle through me during my trips to New York, I met a few interesting people. There was a passionate writer from Turkey who had won many awards, a successful designer and club owner from Australia and a famous DJ from Greece. The writer had already visited Tulum and with my happy enthusiasm I'd convinced the latter two to pay a visit to Playa, which they miraculously did. I knew they would fall in love with this magical town. They'll be back with a string of rich and trendy followers.

At the end of my return flight to Cancun, the turquoise colored reef came into view and my eyes filled with tears. I had not realized that this magical coast had so deeply settled itself in my heart. This was home, more than ever. I embraced the colorful sounds of the birds and I kissed the warm sea with my toes, but most of all my chilled heart opened again for all these warmhearted people around me. The gratefulness for living in a true paradise returned with an intensity that brought such a sense of joy and new inspiration.

It was a hectic and energetic time; lots of work at my office after two weeks of absence, enjoying a lover or two, hosting the two spoiled gentleman from New York with the right connections to resume their party lifestyle and preparing myself mentally for Dick's return. After five months he finally could free himself from his busy work schedule and spent one whole week with me in paradise. Knowing how intense it would be and how deprived I would feel myself from my space and my freedom, that would be a perfect length of time. Not one day longer. His timing was perfect though; due to the hurricane Ivan and national holidays the office was closed most of the week, so it felt like a small vacation in our own town. We enjoyed the Playa life, eating out for breakfast, lunch and dinner, seeing long time friends, lounging on the beach, finding parties everywhere we went. We talked a lot but mostly about business and future plans. We spent every single minute together. Being with him feels comfortable and safe. We celebrated our third anniversary and I sang for him 'Under my Skin'. He was moved to tears. I danced a sensual dance for him and he loved watching me enjoy myself. That was our sexual experience. For the entire week.

We have a lot of patience with each other and we're both worth it.

Over the years it seems like the roles have changed in our relationship. In the beginning he was the one who made the wise decisions, now it's me who leads and decides what needs to be done. He called me a true and very wise woman this time and more often then ever he said, "You just take care of this little boy."

Even his facial expression matches his boyish like attitude when he is with me. Still, I know how he presents himself when he and his partner are taking over a Dutch airline company. I know I'm the only who get to see him so vulnerable. This mother-son relationship might be wonderful for healing purposes, but for a sexual relationship it sucks. Right now he's not the person I want to wake up next to, it's as simple as that.

He lives in a dream when he's here. He is forever grateful that I introduced him to this paradise. He is the partner of one of the most desirable women of Playa del Carmen and completely adores me. He's intelligent enough to know what the deal is.

"Did you tell him about the journalist from Chili?" some girlfriends asked.

"Of course not," I answered irritated. "I don't even know how I'll feel when I'll see him again and who am I to disturb Dick's dream. He's only here for one week. We respect each other and have the wisdom to know when to talk and when to enjoy. If you don't ask, you don't want to know. I would not lie about it, so when the time is there we'll talk about it."

The last two days I started to feel worn out, but I'm a good actress and who wants to deny a little boy his dream of a perfect life in a not so perfect world.

After I dropped him off at the airport I felt completely exhausted and emotionally drained. I noticed that a part of me even felt a little suffocated and when I started my ride home I growled and screamed like an entrapped animal. It was a strong release. Miraculously it did open my throat that gave a new dimension to my singing and made my teacher smile.

Life goes on.

Nevertheless, I still think about you every day. Every single day. I miss our conversations and the sound of your voice. I miss waking up next to you and seeing one of your sweet hands curved over your chest with dark brown silky curls and the other one enlaced in mine. Peacefully.

 "I'm in love with his mind. And his passionate spirit." I told one friend.

"That's good," he replied.

Love, Paula

**CHAPTER 19.**

**SOMETHING TO RELATE TO**

Playa del Carmen, October 2004

Dear Mariska,

So, what happened after Dick left, three weeks ago? After my daily commitments and responsibilities I continued a not so healthy lifestyle of smoking a big fat joint followed by a few strong Cosmopolitans and topping the high with a little line of cocaine. Although the quantities were not alarmingly high, this had become an almost daily habit. As Anya, my therapist, had said, "...without judgment, just observe your addictions..." I had no fear that I was sliding down the destructive spiral of chemical dependency.  Been there and done that. I continued a busy professional life and an extremely healthy diet, but at the same time - from a little distance - I was studying the thought patterns and emotions that led to my craving for being high all the time.

An important aspect in this particular practice was my loneliness. Sure, I have my Dick, but he lives in Holland and right now there is something very essential missing in our relationship: sexual, passionate and sometimes even emotional intimacy.

My 'Hot Chili' has remained unvoiced for months, but I still think about him every single day. His silence has stilled my desire for him and that is good. My life is here at this present moment and not in thoughts of future longing. So, with my illustrious passion I tried to still my hunger for intimacy with a variety of young and not so young boys. They were sexy and horny, fascinated by my sensuality and it was perfectly delicious, but it had nothing to do with the closeness I was looking for. No matter how many hard - and soft - dicks tried to fill me up, this emptiness remained.

You know, when I'm high I don't feel so lonely. It's that simple. During my inebriated episodes I'm gardening buck-naked on my terrace with some funky house rhythm in the background, feeling like Eve in the Garden of Carmen. I make up little speeches for yoga workshops or spiritual lectures or Oprah Winfrey. I practice my Jazz songs for hours and hours, envisioning myself as the Jazz Diva of Playa surrounded by a captivated audience. Actually, one of my earliest memories is I seated in front of a mirror at the age of three, just singing my heart out. I think you can see why I like to be by myself when I'm in such emotional state. The session will end on my bed where I slowly slide into a state of complete oblivion and finally fall into a dreamless sleep.

Besides after an occasional wild party in the weekend, no hangovers are part of this routine, since there are no excesses and the attack on my immune system is balanced out by a very healthy diet and vigorous yoga.

Although I realized that this was just a phase I was going through, it would very likely turn out to be a difficult task to reverse this pattern of intoxicating consumption. I'm sure you remember my brother Leonard's little games from the astral realms. Well, I think he gave me a little hand here, when on his actual birthday I was invited to a private party in an amazing beachfront villa in Akumal.

Myrna, the hostess and owner of the property, is one of my yoga students and a very cool and wild lady in her forties with a string of young admirers. As an inspiration from her recent trip to India she had given a theme to her party; we were all invited to dress in a Hindu style and taste some delicious Indian finger food.

There was an exhilarating energy surrounding a whole collection of beautiful and interesting people dressed in colorful saris and white Punjabi's. The women danced sensually on the rhythms of a trio of live percussionists and the men observed and enjoyed the scene.

With a glass of tequila and a slice of lime in my hand I roamed around the garden towards the beach, leaving the party buzz behind me. It was no more than three days from a full moon and the silvery light reflected on the quiet sea in front of me. A wave of sadness rolled inside when I realized that I would never ever be able to welcome my brother to this part of the world, a place that he would have loved so much. The wave disappeared in the rhythm of the distant drums that told the beat of ancient tales of wisdom and magic. From the beginning I've accepted his choice to interchange his earthly life for a different one in other spheres. Either way, we've had our ways of communication.

I saw his sensitive blue eyes, sometimes so sad, but mostly with a smile that was full of life and spirit and ready to enjoy life. He loved to have fun, pull jokes on people, dance on tables and that kind of stuff. He adored the beach. He was a real golden curled, bronze colored, godlike beach boy. Since this starry night was his actual birthday where he would have turned thirty-eight years, I decided to honor this event with a magical party in remembrance of his joy for life. All I had to do was turn around and finally I mingled into the celebration and started talking with people.

Having enjoyed the outstanding live percussion, I felt fortunate to talk to one of the musicians when I ordered another tequila at the bar. Over the years I had seen this tall, muscular and very black man from Trinidad a couple of times on Fifth Avenue, but we had never actually talked. Finally we started a lively conversation about the magic of life in Playa and the sacred plants of South America.

Mariska, I think you would have completed melted when you would've discovered his sexy shiny skull and his clever eyes. I know for sure.

I melted a little bit, but my attention was drawn towards another attractive percussionist I had seen a few times in my yoga class and who seemed to be a local as well. Although he had dark hair and a sort of Latino energy, he didn't seem Mexican. Besides my respect for men who regularly practice yoga in a female dominated class, he had also caught my attention because of his bright eyes. They were blue and carried a certain wisdom that I recognized, but couldn't place just yet. He had a sensual rhythm, an intelligent smile and a very comfortable energy and that's all I needed to know at this point. I wanted him.

We flirted a little and talked a little and I found out that he was originally from Argentina but over eleven years a Playa citizen and a long time and good friend of the hostess. He played another session, conversed with a few friends and when I saw the opportunity I moved over and discretely said to him:

"Let's take a walk on the beach."

I disappeared from the party and he followed me along the swimming pool towards the sand. We didn't say a word until we arrived under a small palapa close to the shore.

"I'm a dangerous woman. You know that don't you?" I teasingly said to him, looking deep into his friendly eyes.

"Yes, I do," he said calmly.

"We both need this, we deserve this..." I said, sensing the spirit of a lonesome wanderer like me.

"Yes..."

We passionately kissed and kissed and more for what seemed an eternity. I couldn't believe this bizarre connection I felt here. What a surprise. I just started to laugh.

 "You know what?" he said with his charming accent. "I have a piece of land in Tulum. Why don't we go there tomorrow and Monday as well and we'll return on Tuesday. What do you think?"

His energy felt so completely comfortable that I could say nothing but: "That sounds absolutely wonderful. So tomorrow then?"

"Si."

We kissed again and more and finally returned to the party with a smile that could not have concealed much of our excitement. We mingled, he played some more and after a while I walked up to him and said softly in his ear, "I don't want to wait until tomorrow."

He looked at me with a sexy smile.

The next afternoon we arrived at his ranch. Just past the city of Tulum he owns quite a nice piece of land that he has turned into the most beautiful ecological garden lined by small pathways and green arches with colored flowers. The center of the property houses a large palapa and a communal kitchen.  Only girls and women live there. A mix of beautiful and crazy, but responsible people who find their homes in ten simple cabañas scattered at the borders of the property. The rest of the land is filled with numerous fruit trees and 'chaya' and 'nopal'.

I found myself in a little paradise with a peaceful and soft energy that soothed my restless soul. Here we had time to talk. Here we found out that the recognition we saw in each other's eyes was our experience with many sacred plants like Ayahuasca and our attraction to syncretic religions like Candomble, Umbanda and Santeria. And this was only the first of many pleasant surprises.

Soon I was to discover that he is a published writer and the thoughts we could share about our work were more than inspiring. Probably it's our equal prominent Jewish like nose that gives us a good business sense; he's a successful merchant. He supplies merchandise from India and other countries to his own and other tourist shops. Of course I'm thrilled that he has been practicing yoga for many years with Cindy and that he admires her just as much as I do.

He too has conquered his devastating addictions a long time ago and only allows himself an occasional puff from a joint. It even turned out that we know the same kind of people; a small group of wonderful and powerful healers. At a grand party he organized for his birthday he even showed us a thing or two in capoeira, acrobatically moving around his opponent. I was truly impressed.

I can hear you thinking: 'So, what about the sex?' Though a little rough at the edges at times, his passion arouses me in such a way that I so easily flow into an orgasm, it's almost unreal. I mean, most of us girls have to give ourselves a little stimulation to reach a climax, but with him it's like it happens all by itself. Quiet exceptional.

I guess this means that I feel more than comfortable with him. I love listening to his stories and talk to him about absolutely anything. I love the soft silky feel of his skin and the smell of his body. I love waking up next to him, finding our selves amorously entangled, looking into his sometimes-sad blue eyes. For thirteen nights we could not free ourselves from sleeping next to each other. Quiet exceptional as well.

Yes, for a moment I thought about having a baby from him. Although there is no way I could be pregnant at this moment my breasts have swollen to a size that makes me admire myself in the mirror for hours. I calculated my period and I must be having my ovulation, so this change almost seems as if my body is saying: 'Girl, it's about time. We don't have a lot of years left. You've been around an excellent candidate and the time is right, so these full and plump breasts must surely lure this man into mating.'

But honestly, the romantic rush has turned into a very warm and understanding love affair where my lonely alcohol and drugs binges and mindless sex have made room for more inspirational activities.

From the bottom of my heart I thank both my brother Leonard and my Argentinean hero.

Oh, I don't think I mentioned you that he's a divorced, balding fifty-year-old father with a cute little 'pancha'. I'm sure you can relate to that!

Love, Paula

* pancha = belly

**CHAPTER 20.**

**BREAKING RULES**

With her sensual bouncing stroll Cindy came walking towards the table where I had been waiting for our lunch meeting. I admired her new full breasts that her sister had generously given her as a present a few months ago. My mind wandered off to that Friday night when we had sneaked into the bathroom of our favorite cocktail bar so she could proudly show her newly obtained size. It was the first time I had the pleasure to see them and lightly touch them. Right there and then was also the first time we kissed. It just happened, unintended and spontaneous, lovingly and passionately. I felt privileged to be the first woman in her life that she had kissed. Mysteriously glowing we had returned to our table where the rest of our group looked puzzled and curious at our secretive smiles.

"I'm sorry I'm late. It took forever to get out of Playacar," she apologetically started after we had given each other a warm embrace.

"Don't worry about it. Let's order," I replied while placing one of the menus in front of her.

"So, tell me, what's happening with your love?" she asked concerned.

"It's over," I answered determined.

"What do you mean?" she said taken aback. "Tell me what happened."

"Well, for three weeks we lived in this perfect pink bubble. It felt so good and I really had the feeling it was becoming a little bit more serious."

"Did you tell him about Dick?"

"Yes of course. I explained how I feel towards him; a brother and a business partner."

"But don't forget he's still a man in your life."

"I know, but I told him exactly how it is," I threw in while shifting my look towards the approaching waitress. The sweet Mayan girl took our orders and we continued our emotional conversation.

"So, then what happened?" Cindy asked impatiently.

"Well, from one day to the other he became so distant. Sure, he was still friendly, but his sudden demeanor made me feel so uncomfortable I just had to get away from him. I figured that it would be good to give each other some space, so I spent the weekend by myself, but I just knew something was wrong. I could feel it in my gut. I mean, I had a great afternoon with some friends, but at the same time I felt alone again and I couldn't reach him. Anyway, after the weekend I went over to see him and everything seemed okay, but something had changed. In the evening we went out for dinner, but had no chance to talk because some friends we're sitting at the same table. Just before we arrived at this local restaurant on second he had managed to share some words with me about his sudden change in behavior. He confessed that he had been a little distant. At least I knew I wasn't imagining things. So, in the car driving home he asked me: 'What do you want to do?' And I said: 'Well that depends on how you're feeling tonight. When you are in that certain mood, I sense such a discomfort that I don't even want to be around you.' He then proposed to spent this night by himself and the next two nights together, because Thursday I leave for New York."

"Oh yeah, that's right. Were you okay with that?"

"Do you remember yesterday morning when I came to class crying?"

"Yes of course."

"That was the next morning. My mind said: you're a wise woman, don't get so carried away, everything is fine, but my emotions were overflowing and I just couldn't stop crying. Thank you again for letting me teach that class. That completely took my mind of the situation."

"It's the least I could do."

"Myrna said that he always does that."

"Does what?"

"Shut himself off."

"What does she know?" Cindy asked. "Did she have a relationship with him?"

"No, not really."

"So?"

"They have been friends for a long time, so... I think she knows him a little bit."

"Well he might always do that with his bimbo conquests, but you're a different story all together," Cindy said in a protective manner.

"That might be true, but a pattern is a pattern and we don't teach an old dog new tricks now do we?"

"Then teach him old tricks!"

"What old tricks?" I asked annoyed.

"Respect and communication."

"Yeah right! Men and communication. That'll be the day. I know that growl in his cave is supposed to mean: 'Sweetheart, I still love you, don't take this personal. I just need to be by myself for a few days.' But not every woman appreciates these kind of messages. Either way. Let me finish my story. I felt so horrible; I couldn't concentrate on anything else. It was like my drug was taken away from me and I was making up a million ways to get it back. So, I thought the best thing to do was just getting it off my chest and I went over to see him and simply told him how I felt. You know what? He was actually surprised that I was so emotionally touched and that I was crying!"

"Most men really don't have clue," Cindy added after she had thanked the girl who had placed our salads and juices on the table.

"You know what he said Cindy: 'But you are the strongest woman in Playa!' Jesus, like I don't have feelings. My sensitivity is equal to my strength. I just know how to hide it a little better. Fuck, I hate it when people see my tears. Especially men."

"No, it's good that you have shown your feelings. He needs to know that his actions can hurt, whether it's intentionally or not."

"Anyway, with his warmest smile he said that nothing had changed, everything was fine, that he just needed a few days by himself once in a while and that's all. He gave me a warm hug and a long kiss. I guess an addict who has his drug returned will accept it any way that it's presented. I so wanted to believe this, that I did."

"I think at that moment he believed it too," Cindy said thoughtfully.

"Yes, you could be right. But listen to this. So we were going to have dinner that night and he calls me around six to tell me he'll be there in an hour. He shows up three hours later!"

"Did you ask him for an explanation?"

"No! I'm busy anyway. No, I cleverly accept his conduct and play the wise and understanding woman. But nothing was fine. Again I felt this cold distance. So after our dinner where we sensibly avoided the entire subject, we're finally lying in my bed and I just feel the tension building. I felt so awkward, so uneasy that I wanted to ask him to leave and go sleep in his own bed and at the moment I want to open my mouth he says: 'Do you want to give me a massage?'"

"He did?" Cindy said surprised. "And what did you do?

"Oh Cindy, is there any way to get more intimate? I love to give him a massage. He is enchanted by my touch, he thinks it's truly magic and I think it is too. Next to sex that's as intimate as you can get. And to tell you the truth I haven't been that intimate with anybody the last few years. So I said: 'It will be a true pleasure to give you a massage.' With all the love in my being I brought white and golden light into his body. The energy blockages that I felt through my fingers, I send pink spirals to release and open them. I felt his hurt, his pain, his guilt and I prayed for him that his heart would be released of these emotions. I softly kissed every little piece of his skin. I wanted to make love to him so bad, it ached. Oh Cindy, I felt so pathetic: this needy foolish girl in love. So at last I found the courage to spoon up against him and when he folded his arm around me I finally fell asleep. And guess what happened?"

"What?"

"He woke me up to tell me he was going home, because he couldn't sleep."

"No!"

"So there's a man who feels so fucking uncomfortable next to me that he can neither make love to me or even sleep next to me!"

 "How did he leave?"

"We gave each other a loving embrace, but I could see in his eyes that he just felt sorry for me. Oh Cindy, I feel so stupid. This is it. It's over! For God's sake. What was I thinking?  I feel like such a fool. I should have known better. When you break your own rules, you get hurt."

"What rules?" she asked surprised.

"Don't fall in love with an older man."

"Why not?"

 "They have too much baggage! I have more than enough of my own. And sexually it's no cloud nine either," I snapped sharply.

"What do you mean?" Cindy asked confused.

"Half of the time it's not working because of their age and the other half of the time their emotional baggage is making sure it doesn't work."

"Oh, but yoga can take care of that," Cindy filled in positively.

"Well, considering the shape he's in, he better start doing marathon sessions if he even wants to think about keeping up with my sexual appetite!"

"I don't think any man can keep up with your desires," she said teasingly.

"I'm afraid not," I said with a naughty smirk on my face.

"Have you seen any of your lovers lately?"

"To tell you the truth my mind was so focused on my love affair that there was no interest. I mean, I didn't even return their calls. I was mostly in Tulum during the weekend or at his house, so I wasn't even home, but some had figured that out and surprised me with a visit in the morning when I was getting ready for my office."

"And?" Cindy asked curiously.

"Well, what can I say? It doesn't take a lot of convincing when a strong, muscular body pulls me towards him to kiss me passionately and I feel his hard dick pressing against my groin. I'm simply too horny to even think about resisting. But it did make me realize that although they kiss deliciously, feel muscular and strong, move rhythmically and determined, there is no intimacy. I was longing for the man I fell in love with."

"Did you tell him?"

"Are you crazy? Of course not! He's too Latino to be able to deal with these stories. At least Myrna taught him not to ask and he's smart enough to follow that advice."

"So, that works out well."

"It's not working out at all. It's over," I said dramatically while I pushed away my plate with more then half of the salad untouched.

"It's not over Paula," Cindy exclaimed, passionately convinced of the success of this romance, "Can't you see? He's just scared."

"Scared of what?" I said irritated. "I told him how I feel towards Dick."

"What are you thinking girl. He's a man, a real man. You've been with Dick for three years. You're going to NY to meet with him and have a good time. What more need I say. You have a string of admirers and I'm sure he's figuring out that you're not giving them up. You are such an amazing and incredible passionate woman. He simply got scared."

"I guess you're right," I admitted. "You know, I remember now that he once said that he felt so good and so happy with me that it was scary."

"There you go."

"Sometimes I really don't understand men. At times I forget to place myself in their shoes or I think they have the same thoughts about love as me."

"Then go tell him. Tell him how you feel."

"I don't know, Cindy. I don't know if it can work between us. But he did tell me more than once that he is ready for a new relationship and that he wants to start a family."

"Then what are you waiting for?" she said with this big smile on her face. "Tell him! Tell him that you want to build a future together. I can so see you pregnant, you'll be so beautiful. You'll love it, having this miracle growing inside of you, seeing your baby growing up..." she said with tears in her eyes. "Look, I have goose bumps. Give it a chance, what do you have to lose?"

"Nothing..." I answered timidly.

"Then go see him now! Right now. Don't prepare anything. Don't think about it. Just go!

**CHAPTER 21.**

**OLD FART**

After taking care of the last professional responsibilities at my office I mentally started preparing my yoga class for the medical clinic at Nicte Ha. The words that Cindy had shared with me during our lunch were still sounding through my head. The most exciting part of the whole conversation that stuck with me was becoming pregnant. No matter who would turn out to be the potential father of my child, I was to become pregnant in the near future and this whole story finally started to live for me. For the first time in my life I was really seriously considering the possibilities of becoming pregnant.

Just before I packed up my laptop to start the trip to the clinic, I heard a familiar, but particular accent from behind my desk. I popped my head through the doorway and invited my Russian confidante in the back room and closed the door. After listening patiently to my insights and discoveries, Svetlana trusted me with some motherly words.

"Paula, I wish you only the best. You know that. I just want you to be happy, because you deserve that. You work harder than any woman I know and I don't just mean with making money. But listen, Dick has proven his love to you by now. Don't just throw yourself at this man's feet under his conditions. First let him prove his love to you. And think about it, having children from an older man, especially an ex-alcoholic is not the smartest thing to do. His sperm is not so vital anymore and there might be some fucked up chromosomes messing up your space. Just think about it. I believe he truly is a good man, from what I've seen, but keep this in mind. I just want you to be happy."

Sisterly advice, from all different kinds of standpoints, proved to be a rich commodity in Playa.

He opened the door with a warm smile and it seemed he was truly happy to see me. We sat down, sipped a cup of Mate and shared some small talk. I had no idea what I exactly was going to say or how I was going to say it, so I just started talking, letting the words flow out of my mouth while softly caressing his little 'pancha'.

"You know, I've been thinking a lot these past days and... I don't know, but being with you just feels so good. What can I say? When you're not there it simply feels empty. I'm not interested in all these lovers; not really. What I really want, deep in my heart... I simply want that intimacy I feel with you. And when you shut me out like you did, that really hurts."

He looked at me with his beautiful sad eyes and finally opened up to my words. "I know. I always do this. It's a pattern. I find a new love, we get all romantic and then I cut it off. I simply shut off, scared of being hurt."

"Well, that's interesting to hear from you."

"It's easy," he defended himself. "I just don't feel anything anymore. I like it that way."

"Aha, so instead of using alcohol to block your emotions, you have taught yourself to use your mind to shut of your feelings. Same thing, but different trick. Very clever."

He started to laugh.

"So it wasn't really because you wanted to be by yourself. You were getting scared. Scared of being hurt. Well, at least I know I wasn't making things up and I can still trust my feelings. But you're kind of contradicting yourself. Do you realize that?"

"What do you mean?" he said with a defensive tone in his voice.

"Well, on the one hand you want to continue this beaten path of finding a new love affair, enjoying it while it lasts and simply cutting it off when it gets too close. It's easy; it's what's familiar to you. Right?"

"I guess so."

"But on the other hand you told me more than once that after so many years living by yourself you are ready for a new relationship and want to start a family."

Reluctantly he admitted that he had said these words to me.

"Be careful what you ask for. It might be staring you in the face before you know it. Your other conquests might quietly accept their defeat, but I'm not the kind of woman who's giving up so easily."

He looked at me with this knowing smile, not intending to give me any more input.

"Listen, if you want to continue this pattern, you have my blessing, but you're not getting any younger. As a matter of fact, you're becoming an old fart and these young girls won't be lured into your bed that easy any more. It's up to you, but I'm giving you an option. I'm giving you a choice. I'm willing to give you my intention to start something beautiful: a relationship. I have no idea if it's going to work. Nobody does, but I'm willing to give it a try. I don't know. It might work for three months, three years, thirty years, who knows.  But I'm committed to make it work."

I saw a shiver running down his spine.

"The word commitment gives me the creeps," he said alarmed.

"I understand. So, let's just call it an intention then, an intention to see if it can work between us. Just the intention," I said reassuringly.

"Okay, I can live with that, an intention. That sounds good. And it's the perfect time. You'll be away for a while and that gives me some time to think about it," he said with a contemplative look.

"Exactly, just think about it. And whatever you'll decide, it'll be fine. You're a wonderful and intelligent man and we'll be friends no matter what your decision is."

"Well, you know my Chinese sign is a horse and a horse needs to run freely."

"I know that. I need my freedom too, more than anybody else. I'm a dragon and I need not only to run, I also need to fly. So I understand what you're talking about.  But see a relationship as a place where the horse is taken care off, nurtured and loved. It's like a big ranch where your horse can run freely and the borders of the ranch are so far that your horse will never even see them."

He smiled mysteriously, got up and walked to his altar where more spiritual gadgets, statues and images were gathered than I had ever seen in a bachelor's house. How I loved that side of him.

"Let's consult the oracle," he said while unfolding the piece of cloth from these peculiar cards I had never seen before. We laid down three cards: one for him, one for me and one for us. It was a fine spread.

"Listen, I have some things to do now," he suddenly said.

"Yes, me too. I've gotta go."

"I'll call you later, okay?" he proposed.

"What for?" I asked.

"To get something to eat."

"Sure, I'll talk to you later."

We kissed and it was good.

I had to wait at least an hour before Cindy would have finished her class and I could finally share the rest of this romantic soap opera with her, so in the mean time I started making preparations for my journey the next day.

"Oh my God, he's freaking out. I said it," I called out excitingly through my cellular

"Where are you now?" Cindy answered in a hurry.

"Home."

"Let me call you on your land line."

"Okay. Bye"

A minute went by before we were able to continue our revealing talk.

"That's better. So what happened? Did you tell him?"

"Yes! Well, I didn't talk about babies, but I did offer him a choice to see if we can make it work."

"How did he react?"

"I could see I had totally caught him by surprise with my approach, but at the same time he acted like he was comfortable with the situation. I mean, I didn't ask him to marry me, I just said: let's give it a try."

"What do you think is going to happen now?"

"Well, he has this routine of hunting girl after girl and dropping them like a used candy wrap when the thrill wears off or when he gets too scared. I simply gave him an extra option: a beautiful and interesting woman who wants to see if we can build a future together. I told him he's becoming an old fart and that the young girls don't come that easy anymore."

"You said that to him?" she asked kind of shocked.

"Yes, of course. Jesus, what are these men thinking sometimes? As if these young girls have nothing better to do then being chased by a horny old man. Sure, he has these lonely, blue eyes that can make almost any woman melt and he has the intelligence to throw in some very catchy lines but with the years he'll just get the dumber and uglier ones who haven't figured out yet that his libido is exponentially faltering with his growing age."

"And how do you plan to deal with that little problem?" she asked cleverly.

"Daily yoga and getting him off his cigarettes and his Argentinean red and white diet."

"Red and white?'

"Yes, white bread and red meat."

"Oh, I see. Are you going to meet him for dinner?"

"No. He said he would call me, but I know he won't. That's his little trick to try to keep me anxiously waiting. Boys will be boys, let them play their little game. They can only do so as long as we allow them to."

"That's right. So, what are you going to do tonight?"

"I don't know, I'm packing my suitcase and preparing for my journey tomorrow, so I'll be pretty busy with that all evening."

"Are you planning to go out?"

"I don't know. I don't think so."

"Are you feeling okay now?"

"Oh, absolutely. I'm feeling fantastic! I've said it. Oh Cindy, he must be freaking out. I mean, I did kind of proposed to him. I can just see him nervously pacing up and down, smoking his cigarettes. But it feels so good to have said it, to speak it out to the Universe. I mean Cindy, let's be honest, I'm not sure if it's going to work with him, but I do feel very good about that I have spoken out something for myself; that I'm ready to be a mother."

"Oh that's wonderful. And who's taking you to the airport?"

"He is."

"Then call me when you've checked in okay?"

"I will. Love you."

"Love you too."

I had twenty more minutes left to aimlessly wander through the waiting hall before we had to board our plane. I looked over the rows of chairs with pink colored and dark tanned tourists and choose one close to my gate to rest my tired body and my clouded head. Clouded from romantic feelings and tired from a wild night soaked with many Tequila's and no more than two hours of sleep. I made a last phone call before leaving my beloved magical Maya land.

"Hi! It's me," I said happily.

"Hi! How did it go? Did you talk to him?" Cindy asked curiously.

"Well, not last night, but he called me this morning just before yoga class to ask if I was coming as well."

"That's a good sign. Then why didn't you come to class?"

"Because I went out with Paulina and I had only slept a few hours."

"Oh, I see. Did you have fun?"

"You bet! We were dancing and flirting and these guys were just swarming around us like horny bees around sweet and juicy honey. And you know what? It felt so incredibly good to have no interest in them except for this one man. Just the thought of having this one man by your side, this one man to return to, night after night, this feeling made me so happy, it felt like I was flying."

"And did he take you to the airport?"

"Of course."

"And how did it go?"

"It felt so nice and so relaxed to sit next to him in the car and just talk a little about this and that. It felt so comfortable that I simply didn't want the ride to end. It felt really good and very warm. It doesn't matter what's going to happen. I'm so happy. I have this smile on my face that won't disappear for a long time."

"Are you going to tell Dick?" Cindy asked concerned.

"No, it's only seven days and I don't know how things will develop. Let's give it some time. I'm just going to have a really good week with him. He deserves that."

"Okay, take care then and have an awesome time."

"Thanks, I certainly will."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

**CHAPTER 22.**

**TRUE LOVE**

"But why didn't you tell me before?" I mimicked Dick's voice.

"Of course he asked you why," Cindy said. "And what did you answer?"

She had picked me up from the airport and although I had skipped a night and only slept two hours on the plane I felt more energetic than ever, grateful that we had about an hour to drive to Playa giving me sufficient time to spill my heart on my life changing ten days in New York City.

I knew I had had no plans to tell Dick about my recent romance, but my distant friendliness and the dark cloud of heavy emotions and frustrations that hung around me must have set off some loud alarm bells when I entered our hotel room close to midnight. The third night, soaking my exhausted body in a hot tub after six hours of the most vigorous yoga, we uncorked a bottle of Shiraz that we had ordered from room service and started talking in the relaxed way we always did.

Dick is a very intelligent man and knows exactly how to make me feel safe and comfortable. It took me over a year to understand that there would be no mood swings, unreasonable irritation or unexpected anger and this knowledge created a safe haven to open up. He knows how to gently guide the conversation towards a certain topic with his disarmingly boyish charm. He knows that when he'll ask me something specific I will always tell him the truth.

So finally we got to talk about my loneliness during his unusual long absence from Playa and the possibilities his non-presence could create for romances. Knowing my adventurous nature, my sensitive heart and my passionate spirit, it came as no surprise that I had fallen in love with another man.

I told him that the truth I had revealed during our private ecstasy session last year, a more intimate and loving Christmas present than I could ever had given in a material way, had not changed. Although there is a deep loving connection, I still didn't feel physically attracted to him. He had lost most of his puffy business look with yoga and a healthy diet, but I knew it had nothing to do with his looks. Eventually it was my loving partner who explained to me that a woman with my history doesn't normally feel attracted to a decent and kind man from a healthy family. My attraction is to the familiar anxiety and challenge of a man who has been through a lot as well. He was the one who clarified that with my diverse and my complex personality I would never be able to find in one man everything that I was looking for and in need off. He is the kind of man who not only understands, but also can wisely accept other men in my life. He has the patience and insight that if he let's me fly free I will eventually realize that he is my true love.

That was the theme that miraculously ran through the whole week, wherever we went. The talks at the yoga conference were about unconditional love, the musical we went to see was about true love and the movie we viewed was about the power of love. It was staring me in the face, but only after he had left I could start to see it.

From the highway I looked back at Cindy.

"Because you were away for too long! That's what I said to him. I said to him: I'm not going to tell you something like that through the phone or by email. In September you were here only for one week and all we did was have a good time and party. There was no room to talk about these things calmly. And before that you were gone for five months! That's too long. I would have come after two or three months even if it were for only a weekend. If you would have come in the summer I would have been in the middle of my confusion and you would have asked me and I would have told you.'"

"But in the summer you didn't even know Jorge." Cindy cleverly remarked.

"I was talking about Rodrigo."

"You told him about Rodrigo too?" she asked completely astonished.

"I told him everything, absolutely everything," I answered proudly.

"I'm shocked."

"And we're closer than ever," I said with a voice full of love. "Finally there is that emotional intimacy again I was looking for. We always had a deep loving connection, but it actually has deepened through all of this, through sharing and communicating. Jorge actually worked like a catalyst to bring us closer together. You should have seen us in the streets of Manhattan, walking hand in hand, giving each other loving kisses, talking and laughing. If people would not have been able to hear our conversations and just had seen us as through a movie they probably would have thought we had the most loving relationship. And we do. It doesn't feel like it's over. It was a rough period we went through, but we're back on track. Sure it wasn't all pink-laced clouds and gentle soft-spoken words. You know me; I can be very direct and unreasonable at times. We had some heated conversations. Actually I was the one who got all heated up and I once angrily walked out of a restaurant during our dinner."

Cindy started to laugh when she saw me copying my facial expressions of that night and asked: "What did you get so pissed off about then?"

"To tell you the truth I really don't know what made me explode. Sometimes it's just one single word that freaks me out. I did apologize to him the next day. We women sometimes have a tendency to express these hysterical and theatrical traits at the most inappropriate locations."

"I'm afraid you're right," Cindy admitted with a silly smirk.

"I'm not making things easier for him. I mean, he's working his ass off to get the financing together to finally move to Playa and all I can say is: I want children. I can't wait until you finally move to Playa the end of next year and I will start to feel attracted to you when you shape up with yoga and beach time, get a nice tan, bleached blond hair and have a few love affairs here and there. Sure, I can imagine feeling attracted to you in that state, but I can't wait. My biological clock is ticking. That is not a very nice thing to say. That is not a loving and understanding partner. That's a selfish bitch talking there."

"Don't be so hard on yourself. It's understandable you feel that way. You are being very honest to him and he must respect that," Cindy defended.

"He absolutely does. No matter what I've said, he respects that I've always been very honest to him. Oh Cindy, it's so frustrating to feel so much passion in your body and not being able to express it with the person that loves you. I've sat on my bed crying, asking the Universe: What do you want from me? How can you send me a man that feels like my brother? What a fucking cosmic joke that you're sending the most passionate woman a husband that she does not feel attracted to and who feels like her best friend."

"The Lord works in mysterious ways..."

"He sure does," I replied, a little surprised to hear such spiritual words from Cindy. "But still, we had such a good time in New York. I showed him around all the neighborhoods he didn't know yet, like Soho and Greenwhich Village and the Meat Packing District of course. I took him to some trendy bars and a few good restaurants where we had long conversations while sipping on a glass of Champagne or a Cosmopolitan. During our shopping spree we shared our equally expensive taste and as always he showed his generosity without spoiling me. He is the only man I can have business meetings with where I speak my equal share about development projects at the Riviera Maya from 3 to 300 million dollars. We're a golden team. It felt so good that I thought: only with Dick and no one else I can do these things, enjoying this luxury, making big financial plans for the future, feeling so comfortable in these extravagant situations. He is my king. It feels like I'm married to King Arthur but in love with Lancelot. And with..."

"Jorge? What about him?" Cindy asked curiously to hear the continuation of that passionate romance.

"You know, when you're away a symbol of the person remains imprinted in the memory. The blue eyes fade and I see a man who carries so much pain and such a heavy responsibility on his shoulders, it's weighs him down. There is so much emotional weight that his back is a mess. It's so heavy that he slouches his feet over the floor and the pain even weighs on his voice. I don't see a proud and joyful man that can father my children. I see a deeply complicated but fascinating man that is wonderful to have a loving liaison with, but not suitable to create a family with. And that's exactly what I will tell him when he gets back from Guatemala."

"I see what you mean. He's very macho, which attracts you in a way, but not wise enough to assist you in your motherhood or your royalty," Cindy wisely filled in.

"Exactly. I know Dick will always do absolutely anything to make sure I'm a happy woman, in a very sincere way without being ridiculously lavish. He's such a gentleman and so generous. I'm sure I won't be able to find a more caring, concerned and patient father with integrity and in total admiration of his angel Paula. He's the kind of man who takes Guapo out walking when it rains and holds him under an umbrella. That speaks for itself," I caringly added.

"Exactly. Dick has something aristocratic about him; something so rarely found in a man, that goodness and that kindness combined with a strong personality. And he loves you so much Paula. He simply adores you."

"Yes, he does. He's sees this remarkable woman. You're from a different planet he has said so many times. And he'll do anything it takes to be my equal partner, both sexually and spiritually. I told you about Ann right, you know the woman I gave the yoga workshop with?"

"Yes, you told me about her," Cindy answered. "You met her at the training of Baron Baptiste."

"Right. After meeting Dick in New York she said that I'm the one who is not accepting his love. I'm the one who's not willing to receive his love. And when I was reading this little book on prayers at the Miami airport it all made sense. You may pray, but if you can't receive for whatever reason, the miracles may be staring you in the face, but you don't see them. The difficulty for us to receive is because we don't think we're worth receiving such unconditional love, whether it's from God or from a partner."

"Mmm, interesting thoughts," Cindy pensively added.

"Exactly. So now that I'm seeing that self-sabotaging pattern of myself, I can finally start to open myself for his love. In time I can see myself falling in love with him. But still, I don't like his smell. His diet is ten times better than Jorge's, so it can't be that. It must be from all that stress in Holland, but it's so essential, so primal."

"I'm sure when he moves to Playa that will change and the bags under his eyes that you keep mentioning will disappear as well."

"I guess so. Oh, I hate these business brief cases under his eyes because he worked sixteen hours a day for seven years straight."

"They're not that bad. I've hardly noticed them."

"Everybody says he's such an attractive man and I'm the only one not seeing it. If love makes blind, it's working the other way around for me," I jokingly said. "But I have a black and white picture of us taken in New York where we look like this famous couple. Because of the lighting his eyes look beautiful and you know what? He actually looks like Tim Robbins, the partner of Susan Sarandon. They both have that boyish charm. And Tim Robbins is hot!"

"Oh yes, he's hot. So, there you go," Cindy happily added.

"I'll find something else that I'm not happy about."

"You're far from perfect either."

"I know I'm pretty complicated myself. Sometimes I think he's no challenge, he's too submissive, but I know he's expressing that out of a powerful wisdom and not out of weakness. Right now I couldn't handle a person who's confronting and criticizing me all the time. I would explode every time. We would have constant fights. I'm still healing and learning how to be patient and gentle. And Dick is the one who showing me that a relationship can be kind and understanding, that it's not a constant struggle for attention in a negative way. But still, I want a little challenge."

"Like Anya said, each relationship is there to help each other heal," Cindy added, repeating the famous but insightful sentences of our therapist.

"Well, with so many different men there must be a lot to heal in my heart," I said with a little desperation in my voice.

"And you apparently have a lot of healing to bring to them," Cindy reassured me.

"Oh, that makes me think of this card. Listen to this. Ann has these beautiful tarot cards, the Inner Child Cards, and one evening she asked me to draw one card while asking myself the question what my path would bring. I drew the card of Dorothy and her dog Toto on the yellow brick road, accompanied by three men, the brave lion, the intelligent scarecrow, and the compassionate tin man. There were Paula and Guapo and her three men. When I drew that particular card these were the thoughts that came up: One needs courage, one needs a brain and one needs a heart. The heart chakra is the courage to connect with the heart, which is Jorge. The throat chakra is the need to speak out and communicate and use the intelligence, which is Rodrigo, and the crown chakra is the connection with the spiritual self, which is Dick."

"Wow, I can't believe it," Cindy exclaimed excitedly.

"Yes, pretty amazing these tarot cards," I added.

"Do you work a lot with tarot cards?" she asked.

"I've been working with them off and on for years. I don't think I can say I really know exactly what every card means. I just work with them intuitively and they guide and advise me with certain issues. It's not about foreseeing the future, what a lot of people think. It's more that you're asking for insights in a certain situation," I answered.

"And when will you be seeing Dick again?" Cindy asked.

"He's giving me time to figure things out, but I know now that he's my main man and he'll be here for Christmas," I answered.

"Of course."

"But it's such a relief that I don't have to pretend anymore and avoid his sexual advances, because that was the most frustrating part."

"Did you have sex with him?" Cindy asked carefully.

"No, we didn't have sex. We slept in separate beds. That doesn't change overnight. That will take some more time. At least after three years he finally admitted that the sex with his ex, a relationship of ten years, wasn't all that good. She and I went to the same high school in my hometown, not knowing we would end up with the same boyfriend."

"Oh my God, what a coincidence," Cindy called out. "And was she pretty?"

"No, not really, but that doesn't matter. What I do want to know is what the fuck did she do with him in bed? I told Dick that sexually he feels like a little boy who still has to learn so much, how to seduce a woman, how to touch a woman, how to excite a woman. He said: Then teach me, give me sex lessons. I told him I'm not the designated person to do that at this moment."

"No, I understand that," Cindy replied.

"I told him to go have fun, go out and get experience. I said: You can't keep on working sixteen hours a day just to come and live in Playa and be with me. I know that you're replacing your sexual needs with work, but that's not the way. You have to enjoy life all the time. If something happens and God asks you what you have been doing the past two years he won't be pleased to hear that it was all work and no play. I said: Why don't you call a high-class escort service where they have classy girls and ask for a woman with experience."

"You said that to him?" Cindy asked in disbelieve.

"Oh yes! I know he has made use of these services in the past. There's nothing wrong with that. Especially if you have a very busy professional life and no time to wine and dine a woman that might leave you with a little kiss as dessert."

"No, I don't mean there's anything wrong with that. It's just a little unusual for a girlfriend to suggest a thing like that to her man," Cindy excused herself.

"Well, we don't have an ordinary relationship. You know that. And a working girl, that's the kind of woman he can explain about his situation. I mean if he picks up a girl in a bar or at a party he can't ask her to give him sex lessons because she'll probably think he's a weird guy with some serious problems. An escort he can ask to teach him how to seduce and touch a woman. And what he has learned he can then put into practice with a girl he meets at a party or something."

"And how did Dick react to that suggestion?" Cindy asked curiously.

"He thought it was an excellent idea. He said he would keep me posted on his proceedings," I responded excitedly.

"You two are quiet a pair, truly remarkable. You are glowing like never before," she remarked.

"Thank you," I answered gratefully. "But that's also because of this life changing movie I've seen twice in New York."

"Oh really? What movie?"

"That story will have to wait until the next time, 'cause we're here already. It's the next street."

"You're right. Listen, I know you've only slept two hours, but you must be filled with inspiration from the yoga conference. Would you like to teach the class at six?" she asked hopefully. "I promise I will take the class with you."

"In that case I will be more than happy to," I replied.

"Okay, see you at six then. Love you."

"Love you too."

**CHAPTER 23.**

**THE POWER OF THOUGHT**

Finally it was time again for our monthly girls gathering. I was truly looking forward to this get-together of professional women and mothers that had become more and more heartening and inspiring with the introduction of spiritual themes. After a good year we had returned to the hostess who had initiated this idea and in her own style she had given a festive touch to the soiree, which had made everybody feel even more grateful for being part of this special dinner party.

After I had greeted and hugged the women of our familiar group and introduced myself to a whole bunch of new members, I poured myself a glass of wine and started chatting with Arielle, one of the yoga teachers of our group.

"That was such an inspirational evening we had together this week," she started enthusiastically. "I actually have started applying these practices in my daily routine. Did you get my email?"

"I certainly did. Thank you. Isn't it wonderful? What a difference it makes in your day," I replied.

"It would be nice to share this in our group."

"It certainly would. You know, since we've started with our gatherings I have only missed one."

"I remember. You had to pick up Dick from the airport, wasn't it?"

"Well, to tell you the truth I could've made it was it not for the fact that I had to recover from a pretty bad hangover."

"That's not a very yogi style of conducting yourself," she said teasingly.

"Well you know me Arielle, I like to balance out everything. If some yama's don't work so well, I'll make up for it with some niyama's," I replied jokingly.

Evelyn, one of my recent yoga students, joined our little yogic exchange and listened attentively when I continued to share my thoughts on superfluous behavior.

"No really, I believe that everything needs to be in balance. I want to organize workshops that are called 'Yoga in Paradise'. Balancing a healthy yoga lifestyle with all the pleasures that Playa has to offer."

"With you anything is possible," Evelyn threw in. "You're crazy anyway."

"Well thank you, I take that as a compliment."

"But honestly Paula," Evelyn continued, "yoga is bringing me so much. No matter how stressed out or angry I am at the end of my working day, after a yoga class I feel calm and relaxed. And although I have only recently started studying yoga I realized I have at least another thirty years to learn more about yoga."

"Wow, what a beautiful thought Evelyn," I said surprised. "What a grateful attitude. For sure I will quote you in some of my classes."

She smiled at me appreciatively.

Finally the hostess called our attention and invited us to take our assigned seats around the two large tables. In the tradition of Thanksgiving, which was to be celebrated in the United States a week from now, she had cooked us an enormous turkey and we had prepared all the dishes around it.

"I have given the theme gratefulness to this evening," our host Amy started, "and I want to tell you that I'm so grateful that you are all here and that we have the opportunity to be together with so many beautiful and likeminded women. I want to ask each one of you to share with us what you are grateful for, but..." she paused with a childlike excitement, "not until we have stilled our hunger first. Please enjoy!"

I had strongly felt the need to share with these women what I was so grateful for, something that had recently changed my life, so I had already prepared my little speech for this evening. Luckily I was one of the last ones to share a few words and the woman before me opportunely touched the subject of God, which introduced my story so appropriately. I stood up and smiled at the woman next to me.

"Thank you Debbie for mentioning the gratefulness for God. Our words will be flowing so nicely together," I started. I looked around the large dining room gratefully taking in all this attention. "What I want to share with you will take a little more than just a few sentences so bare with me, but I can assure it will be worthwhile and Arielle can testify to that because I've told her the whole story a few days ago," I continued while throwing a glance at Arielle. With a big smile and a nod she agreed.

"I'm grateful for something that has happened during my recent trip to New York City. You all know that New York is an extremely stressful and fear based city, but I have experienced some of the most emotionally and spiritually uplifting 10 days in a long time. First of all, to receive unconditional love from you partner is so... It's simply wonderful. Secondly, to gather with over a thousand yogis in Manhattan and practice yoga and afterwards share your knowledge during your own workshop is very rewarding. But what I really want to talk about is this movie I have seen. It's called 'What the bleep do we know' and it's a documentary with over a dozen of the most renowned scientist talking about quantum physics, biology and God. Embedded in this documentary there is an actual story with actors and actresses like an Alice in Wonderland tale and both the interviews and the actual story are supported with all kinds of animations, at times so funny and hilarious. Now you might think what makes this film so special. Well, you all know that I'm spiritually pretty well educated. I've read hundreds of books and studied the use of sacred plants in the Amazons, but sometimes there are some pieces of the puzzle missing. You know, you've read that beautiful spiritual book and you know it makes sense, but there is something missing and this film gives us that lacking part: science. In a scientific way it explains how we ultimately create our own reality. It explains that matter in fact does not exist. First we thought that molecules and electrons were matter, but quantum physics has proven to us that they are actually just possibilities or tendencies moving in and out of existence and these tendencies are influenced by our thoughts. So, we are all creating and co-creating our reality."

I noticed that some women in my audience were more than interested, as if they were hungrily sucking up all this information and these eager eyes motivated me to continue my story with all my animated fervor.

"There is this one scene in the movie where they show photo's taken from the molecular structure of water. This Japanese man called Doctor Emoto was able to develop a technique using a very powerful microscope in a very cold room along with high-speed photography. He took simply dead water - so not polluted with heavy metals or any other toxins - from the Fujimori dam and the picture showed a simple blob of water. The next photo was one of the very same water after it had been blessed by a Zen Buddhist monk. And what do you think had happened? The picture showed this beautiful crystal structure, like a snowflake. More amazing shapes were shown of the same water after it had received the 'Chi of Love' or 'Gratefulness' or the music of Mozart. And when this same water had received angry and hateful thoughts, you could see an ugly and distorted picture of these water crystals. Now knowing that we consist ninety percent out of water think about this: If thoughts can do this to water, imagine what thoughts can do to us..."

It was good to see that this one sentence did its magical work, as it had so many times already. "And did you know we can also influence our emotions with our thoughts. With our thoughts we create our own neuronal circuit. This system influences the hypothalamus, which creates our emotions that are actually made up of chemicals called peptides. Every emotion has a certain peptide, like anger, compassion or lust; they all have different chemical chains. Now, every single cell has thousands of receptors and these peptides move into these receptors like a key into a lock influencing the cell. After a while these receptors will even change or adapt themselves to certain peptides in such a way that we will feel a discomfort when not receiving them. Knowing that heroin for example works on these same receptors, we could say that we are addicted to particular emotions. Receptors might even be so altered by the chemicals of certain emotions that no vitamins or minerals can be processed anymore, thus a source of disease. But there is hope. As I said, we can influence our emotions with our thoughts. One of the most referenced interviews in the film is the one where Doctor Joe Dispenza tells us how he creates his day. Every single morning when he wakes up he consciously starts to create his day and actually rebuilds his neural net and truly the most amazing things started to happen in his life. So since I've seen this movie I've started my days with the thought of creating them and I actually see the neurons replacing themselves. But when I found this little book at the airport on my way back home, everything really fell into place. Like some spirit was given to this recently discovered science. It's called 'Everyday Grace' written by Marianne Williamson. I'm sure some of you've heard about her right?"

I saw a few women attentively nodding theirs heads, an indication that I was still captivating my audience.

"This little book is about how to create miracles in your life by simply praying every day. I mean we shower every day to clean our body. Now, why don't we do this for our mind, like a little mental toothbrush? According to a 'Course in Miracles' it takes no more then five minutes to set our thought forms for that day. And really it works! Give what you wish to receive. It's a Universal Law of cause and effect that what we send out will come back to us. So, first I start my prayer with gratitude for everything and everyone around me, then I ask God - or the Creator or the Universal Spirit or whatever you would like to call it - to help me be an instrument of love and compassion and what else I want to receive. And then I end my prayer with blessing everything and everyone around me. So what happens is that when I walk around through the day, in my mind I'm blessing all the people that cross my path and that's a pretty amazing state to be in: bless you... bless you... bless you too. Now if thoughts can do this to water, imagine what thoughts can do to us. I'm grateful that I've been able to share this with you and I'm grateful that you have given yourself the time to listen to me. Amen!"

One woman almost started to applaud after this eye opening discourse, but most of them asked enquiringly how to get hold of the movie and I promised to send them by email all the information, names and websites.  Hungry from so much talking I was relieved that we were allowed to dig into the desserts, which to my pleasant surprise included chocolate fudge, one of my favorite aphrodisiacs.

After spending more time talking, drinking, eating and making plans for our next gathering, Cindy and I decided to visit one of the popular cocktail bars of Playa to end this successful evening. With plenty supply of aphrodisiacs in our stomachs and a rewired neuronal circuit we were bound to have more fun.

If thoughts can do this to water, imagine what our thoughts can do to a horny Latino boy.

**CHAPTER 24.**

**TO HEAL OR NOT TO HEAL**

"He said what?" Myrna asked perplexed.

"Jorge said that he had stood you up when he wanted to disillusion your advances, so I thought why wouldn't he do the same with me," I answered.

"I can't believe he said that! First of all he's lying. Who's chasing whom here? Believe me I can show you the emails and second, in Playa you don't say a word about your intimate encounters to other people, you are discreet...always! This is unbelievable. Anything but a gentleman. That is not a caballero. God, I'm so disappointed," she said truly touched.

Accidentally the door was opened to a tête-à-tête between two powerful women and more indiscretions of his not-so-gentlemanly behavior were laid on the table of one our favorite Italian restaurants.

"Paula, what it comes down to is that he's been disrespectful towards me and he's been disrespectful towards you. He lied to you and he really hurt you. I've held this man in such high regard, but right now I have no desire to talk to him or have him in my vicinity. As far as I'm concerned he doesn't exist anymore," she said determined.

"Well, for me this chapter isn't closed yet. I believe we have a strong connection."

"I know, you both have had your struggle with addictions."

"Yes, but there's more. We're both writers and we have this fascination with certain religious cults. I told him that I have a strong feeling that we got to know each other because in the future we will work together within spiritual works. I don't know, there was a strong chemistry between us."

"I didn't really feel that, I was just attracted to his mind," she said pensively.

"Oh yes, there was chemistry, there was so much passion. He just has something. I don't know what it is, but he sure has something."

"When he drops his pants he doesn't have that much," Myrna sarcastically threw in.

I burst out in laughter, which made the surrounding guests look up from their plates with a mix of disturbance and curiosity.

"And you can quote me on that!" she added.

"Well, I don't quite agree on that. The last time we made love he was so big and hard I couldn't believe my eyes. I was always led to believe that criticizing the manliness of a macho Latino man is asking for trouble, but even after reading my last two chapters no signs of a dinted ego surfaced."

"Believe me, that was Viagra," Myrna stated dryly.

"Really? Damn, and I thought it was my beautiful, but razor sharp words that did the job. Silly me. Oh, now I understand. Now I realize why he said in this kind of self-righteous way after he had fucked me hard and had an explosive orgasm: There! You tell that to your girlfriends!"

"Jesus! What a child. That man has a problem."

"I know he has a problem. But you know what Myrna? I didn't care. I loved to be with him anyway, I loved to make love to him, hard dick or no hard dick, and I had orgasm after orgasm. Jesus, finally a woman who doesn't care and he throws it away."

"I don't understand. He could have had it all, but he prefers to stay with his little Mexican ' _camaristas '_ that he can control and manipulate and get away with it too. He has a big problem. He has to prove himself so bad and his alcoholism has given him problems with his manliness of course and now that he's getting older..."

"At least he has given me something big and hard. Permanently."

"What?" Myrna asked curiously.

"My breast!"

"Yes, I've seen they're bigger."

"They've grown while I was with him and they just stayed that way. A free boob job."

"Mine wasn't for free, but that's the only thing I've had done."

"Well, they've done a marvelous job, so natural. I hope to look like you at your age. Just look at you."

"Thank you," she said with a grateful smile.

I returned her smile. "My pleasure."

"But really Paula, I thought that you would finally make a difference. He's so intelligent, he has such a beautiful mind, it's so sad, so sad," she said with a warm compassion in her voice.

"I'm actually a little worried about him wanting to be a healer. Rodolfo said to him he's ready and wants to teach him how to clean and heal aura's, but there's one thing Rodolfo taught me and what any healer will teach you: How can you heal other people when you haven't healed your own heart?"

"I don't like this whole Rodolfo group anyway," Myrna said.

"Well, Rodolfo has his issues with women as well, so they'll work nicely together. But doesn't he realize that every thought and every action is energy? It's a Universal law that what you put out there, what you send out there, you will receive back. It will be returned. Now if you consciously hurt people, whether it's from an old pattern or an addiction or from your own pain, that energy will eventually come back."

Myrna sighed. "I don't know Paula. For now I'm kind of done with his situation."

"But I'm not done yet. I'm writing. And I know it will touch his heart. I pray to God it will. I always remember that one spiritual vision quest many years ago, that one time when I was engulfed by this black energy, like heavy, sticky dark tar. I felt like it was swallowing me up, penetrating me through every single cell and the only thing holding that dark energy back was my own light, fed by my belief in God. It felt like I was the only light left and it took all my life force to keep on going, knowing that I had to find the last light trapped in that vast darkness. And finally there it was, a lost soul. There was a little child, locked up, raped, tortured, and this little suffering soul was trapped 'till eternity. I know that was a part of me, a part of my split of personality, but to me it was also a symbol of any lost soul that needs more light. With our two lights together, more light could be created and new paths opened up simply transforming that darkness. You know, our caballero has so much intelligence that he has the responsibility to do everything in his power to heal himself. His intelligence and his great mind are the tools and the instruments to heal his bleeding heart and to nurse his suffering soul. He has a responsibility to himself, his loved ones and to the whole world in these times of darkness to heal himself. How can we save the world if not every last opportunity is taken to heal our selves? Every soul counts. Only the healing of our own heart gives us the possibilities to heal the world from this darkness. The healing comes from within. And if we are all connected and there is a slight possibility of reaching someone, then we have the responsibility to ourselves and to the world to do whatever lies in our power to reach out and help. I write."

She looked at me with the loveliest smile. "Paula, we are so sensitive. We are so much more sensitive than we are strong. People have no idea. We are sensitive because we are such humanitarians. What's your sign?" she asked.

"Aquarius," I answered. "And yours?"

"Aquarius."

"Of course. And what's your ascendant?" I asked again.

"Scorpio."

"That makes sense. Mine too!"

We looked at each other with this all-knowing smile.

"We are too sensitive to allow ourselves to fall in love," Myrna continued.

"But I love to be in love. I still think about my 'hot Chili'," I said.

"Did he ever write back?" she inquired.

"Once."

"Believe me, he doesn't have the same feelings as you do. We make things bigger than they are. We invent things that simply aren't there. Our hearts are so big. I taught myself not fall in love anymore, because it hurts too much every time."

I smiled. "Maybe, one day I'll feel that way, but for now it's still worth the anguish."

We talked some more about our lives, our pasts and our partners who had one thing in common: they recognized the complex and diverse Goddess inside of us and completely adored, respected, and understood the ways we choose to live our lives. We were grateful for a beautiful friendship that had started to grow between us and we could only start to anticipate all the fun that was waiting for two very naughty women.

"So I'll let you know when we'll go on this double date with our Italian boys," Myrna said after we had given each other a warm embrace.

"Absolutely. And what about this threesome with our Latino stud?" I asked mischievously.

"Who knows? We're only trying to be authentic humanitarians."

**CHAPTER 25.**

**THE POWER OF PRAYER**

The sunrays of the early Sunday morning were warming my skin as I sat meditatively on one of the deckchairs of our private terrace. Still a little misty from last night tequila's that had accompanied our celebration of Playa's Jazz festival, I contemplated the many wise words of Marianne Williamson's little book that had initiated my daily ritual of prayer and meditation. I had read similar books on this subject, but I had realized that when the time is not right or the words don't connect, the whole issue remains a beautiful but vague spiritual notion without really touching base. This time the words had touched my heart and my neuronal circuit.

If I can change my belief system, my emotions and my reality with my thoughts, then miracles are created because I believe in them. Asking God for help, but not really believing I will receive Divine guidance is of no use. It's the separation from God we are convinced of, that's keeps us from experiencing miracles. There is no division, we're a part of God and the miracles are worked through us, not by us. God cannot do for us what he cannot do through us.

So our magical wand is the way we think; our thoughts. Our magical wand is the thought that we are connected to God and that we are the instruments of God through which God works any magic possible. But it's not just the power of God that's working; it's our willingness to receive that power, our belief that we are able to receive that powerful love that creates miracles.

The Universal law of cause and effect is also applied on our thoughts. What we think is what we get returned. Do we think love we will receive love. Do we think forgiveness we will receive forgiveness. If we express God's love through acts of compassion, kindness and forgiveness, we will receive the same. When we bless everything around us we'll receive blessings.

Our ego of course will do anything to maintain the separation that holds us from feeling that Divine unity. That's what the ego is for. One of the many tricks the ego has come up with is judgment and it simply blocks the flow of compassion and forgiveness. It's so easy to judge, to point the finger, to blame, but isn't it simply that that person is lacking the wisdom and understanding to act differently? Don't you wish that they might open themselves to receive the love and light of God and become a loving and wise person, to connect again to their innocence and goodness?

I had instructed myself to have one single thought, one first thought as soon as I woke up and that was the thought of God. It took about a week before the first ideas of coffee, work, agendas and God knows what else had given up their royal seats, but finally my instruction had worked and a subtle golden white light would enter my being as soon as I had slipped from a dream state into the reality of this world. Then I would mentally start to disengage my neurons so they could wave freely in my brain fluid, like soft lavender colored coral, waving in the turquoise colored tropical seas of my head, freed from fear-based and prison-like emotions and thought patterns, free to receive divine guidance and light to make new circuits.

Of course the next step would be preparing myself a big mug of strong coffee and move to my terrace where I would start my morning ritual. I talked to my plants and thanked them that they gave such beautiful colorful flowers and then I sat down in contentment for this precious space, this spacious view and the sound of the birds. After slowly drinking my coffee, enjoying every single sip, I would start my mental shower to set a structure for the day, a certain mindset to guide me through my day.

My prayer sounded different every day, depending on my specific wishes for that time, but overall this is what I said.

_Thank You, thank You, thank You_

_Thank You, Great Spirit_

_Thank you for this Universe, the galaxies and milky ways_

_Thank you for the sun, the stars and the moon_

_Thank you for this jewel of a planet,_

_Thank you that I 'm part of this lifetime's experience_

_It 's a lot from the lottery, I know_

_Thank you for the forest, the seas and the mountains_

_And the beautiful flowers_

_The birds, the fish and the animals_

_Thank you for this beautiful world_

_Thank you that you have shown me the way to Playa del Carmen_

_And thank you that I opened myself for your guidance_

_Thank you for my wonderful loving partner_

_Thank you for my beautiful life_

_I want to ask your help so that I can be_

_The instrument of your unconditional Love,_

_Vessel of your endless forgiveness, a channel of your infinite wisdom,_

_Please show me how I can open myself to receive your Light_

_Please help me be a person that glows from your Love,_

_Radiates, emanates and illuminates your Light_

_May Your divine insights_

_And worldly sense of humor express themselves through me_

_Let me be an opportunity to express Yourself Great Spirit_

_Thank you_

_I bless You, Great Spirit_

_I bless myself, my soul and my heart_

_I bless all my loved ones and my family_

_I bless mostly the people that are hard to love_

_I bless my dog and our house_

_I bless our office and my employees_

_I bless all the people in Playa del Carmen and in Mexico_

_I bless all the people in the whole world_

_I bless every person that will cross my path today_

_I bless every situation where I will find myself in today_

_Praise the Great Spirit!_

_Amen!_

After my prayer I tried to bring myself into a meditative state to receive from the Great Spirit what I had asked for and that always seemed the hardest part. To simply sit still, do nothing and just listen, to allow myself to receive.

'Oh well,' I thought, 'I have the whole day to receive. Why be greedy and want it all now?'

I noticed that throughout the day this soft hint of a smile would not disappear from my lips and I continued to mentally bless the people on my path all day long. And the funny thing was that I truly meant it. I saw every single person as an instrument of God who was playing his or her part in the symphony of the Universe.  And if they were playing out of tune it was because for some reason they had lost their connection to God. By blessing them it was like I was acknowledging their divinity and wishing they received the love and light of God and could shine in all their splendor again.

After spending a few hours practicing my rituals and gardening my plants I decided to call my loved one with whom I wanted to share my thoughts.

"Well, good morning how are you?" I asked lovingly.

"Good, good," he answered. "Did you have a good time last night?"

"Absolutely, but why didn't you join us at the concert?"

"Oh, I was with my friends and we stayed close to the stage dancing and you were with the gang so..."

"Oh yes, we had the best time! Afterwards we went to Ohm and upstairs was a private party with food and free drinks and we danced and danced. God, did we have fun! And then we went to Santanera..."

"Well, we went out a little bit after the concert."

"So, when do I see you again?" I asked hopefully.

He paused for a second. "I'll pick you up in an hour, okay?"

I was completely surprised at hearing this request, expecting him to see me in the evening or more likely the next day, but nevertheless feeling very happy for this unanticipated surprise.

"Wait, wait, wait. I still have to take a shower and walk with Guapo, so give me half an hour extra. I'll call you when I'm ready okay?" I answered.

"Okay, call me when you're ready."

With an even bigger smile I started to shower, massage myself with precious oils and crèmes and dress nicely for a lazy Sunday afternoon. I was looking forward to spent the afternoon with him, imagining where he would take me for lunch, talking, laughing, and romancing. Maybe we would go to the beach of Xpu Ha or even Tulum. The Sunday was ours to enjoy.

Exactly an hour and a half later I called him. No one picked up the phone.

"What the fuck! You gotta be kidding me," I said out loud.

Exactly half an hour later he called me back.

"Hi, I was a little busy," he said sheepishly.

"Yes. I figured you had something important to do, else you would have picked up the phone,"  I answered calm.

"You're probably going to kill me, but..."

"But what?" I said a little annoyed.

"I have some stuff to do, so I..."

"And until when do you have your stuff to do?"

"Around six, but I'll call you then okay?" he asked with a honey voice.

"Yeah... ( _whatever_ )"

I hung up the phone too flabbergasted to realize what was really going on here. I sat down and started to take in what had been going on the past few days. Sure, the last two chapters of my book must have hit the spot, but we had talked, laughed and made love. Sure, he had acted a little distant, especially last night, hardly saying me hello and disappearing in the crowd following his friends, but I had paid no attention to his childish games.

"How dare he do this to you, that old fart. Interchanging you for some 'stuff'. Who does he think he is? Does he want to play games? Too bad for him, because I can play them way better," I heard my ego shouting in my ears, but knowing that my ego only wished to divide instead of unite, I choose to ignore these familiar sentences.

I did decide that I would only once allow him to do this to me. I would not call again, make a date again or approach him again. That was the least I could do for myself. With that act I choose for myself and empowered myself. Don't do unto others... also works the other way round. Don't allow others to do unto yourself, what you don't allow yourself to do unto others.

Still I did not understand. If he had stumbled upon one of his bimbo's he could have told me. I'm the first one to understand, having fucked a delicious Latino last night and another one the night before that. I wished him just the same, if he could handle that at his age. But this was a disrespectful manner and that I found hard to swallow. Nevertheless, I started to pray for him.

_Dear God, please help my loved one_

_I know that he acts out of fear and pain_

_That he has closed himself from his connection to You_

_Help him open his heart for your kindness_

_Teach him to see the truth of your wisdom_

_Your compassion and your forgiveness_

_Ease the pain inside his suffering soul_

_Melt the ice around his burning heart_

_Bless his soul_

_Bless his heart_

_Bless my loved one_

So there was a Sunday afternoon right in front of me, rich of promises, full of possibilities, ready to be discovered and enjoyed. Everything happened for a reason. Everything was perfectly going the way it was supposed to be.

During my little walk with Guapo I had stumbled into Paulina, my fellow power woman: a professional in business, yoga and partying. She had asked me to come with her to the beach.

"Why don't I ever see you on the beach?" she said while deeply looking me in my eyes.

"I just like to be by myself, that's time for me," I had answered.

"Well, I'm going. What are you doing?"

"He's picking me up and we're going to lunch somewhere. You know, just nice..." I had said dreamily.

"Good for you girl," she had said and she had given me a big kiss.

My car, who mysteriously had given up on me the day before didn't allow me to go to a house warming party in 'Pueblo Sacbe', so the road led me to the beach where I found Paulina and the same party crowd as the night before, dancing in the sun on the beats of an amazing DJ. Even Arielle, Anya and Evelyn, my girlfriends from our 'grateful' night were there, enjoying the almost magical atmosphere, but the most enchanting of them all was Mary Chou. It gave me such incredible happiness to see her dance with true joy in her eyes, rhythmically moving her gorgeous little body on the beat of the music. Only months ago I had seen her eyes, deep and dull, her whole body searing pain from losing her loved one. One afternoon we had shared a few words on a quiet street.

"Sometimes I just want to swim into the sea and just let go. It hurts so much, it's so deep," she said with so much suffering in her eyes.

"I know what you feel," I said to her looking deep into her eyes, "but the pain is never more then you can handle. You are a strong woman and sure, it will take time, but you can do this, you can go through this and become a happy woman again, stronger than ever. Believe me, I know."

She smiled, we hugged and we parted.

And there we were dancing in the sun on a lazy Sunday afternoon in Playa del Carmen, on a beach filled with happy people, truly smiling, truly dancing, and truly feeling joy and happiness. I'm sure my brother was somewhere there between the crowds.

Truly grateful I was for my Argentinean hero, who had unintentionally directed me to this road filled with joy and happiness.

**CHAPTER 26.**

**BLOWING BUBBLES**

Early Monday morning I walked into the room where Maria performed her cleansings and the full basket of eggs and the soothing smell of Copal immediately filled the picture. We gave each other a warm embrace. The last time we had seen each other was on our friend's 50th birthday where she had been a special guest of honor, performing a sacred ritual to bless the garden and house of that magical ecological space in Tulum.

"How is Jorge?" she asked interested, knowing that we were romantically involved.

"Well..." I started with a big smile, "I think he has a little trouble treating women with respect. If he starts communicating a little more then we might be able to continue where we left off."

"I understand," she answered with an eloquent smile. "I've always seen him with very young girls and you... I think you are simply too much woman for him to handle. But he's a good man and he does deserve a beautiful woman."

I smiled. "We'll see..."

During Maria's invocations I felt a strong cleansing channel of light entering the crown of my head and spreading through the rest of my body, creating an even stronger heat I had already felt around my heart space.

After she had broken the egg in the glass of water we both stared at the results. The membrane of the egg floated at the bottom of the glass.

"That doesn't happen very often, that the membrane separates from the eggshell," Maria explained. "That means you have a lot of internal heat."

I informed her of my recent rituals and she agreed that my profound loving union with God might have created that heat.

"Look, this is you and there's Jorge, very strongly present. And all these tiny little bubbles are all people clinging to you. There are so many. I felt that your defense had lowered around your third chakra and then people are able to connect them selves to you energetically. There's no negative energy, but it's a lot of people."

"But people are attracted to a person who has a lot of light and energy," I filled in.

"That is absolutely true, but this is from your lowered defenses."

"I guess that's from partying over the weekend," I admitted.

"Exactly."

"And is there anything I can do to protect myself."

"No, not much. Right now I'm struggling with the same issue. I'm forty-six and I'm actually going through a crisis, because I simply have to give up certain pleasures. There is no other option. This spiritual work needs a clean channel, completely clean. I mean, I can take a glass of wine with my dinner, but no more drinking. And when I drink, I can drink."

"Oh yes, when we drink we do it with a passion," I laughingly added, "Well, at least you've had forty-six years of fun. It's not like the god's are asking this from you at the age of sixteen."

"You're right. I've had my fun."

"And eventually I'll be looking at this situation too. It's a responsibility that comes with the mission we have chosen, being spiritual workers. And next year I want to have children, so that will change everything."

"Yes," she said with a knowing smile, "that will change everything. And who will be the father?"

"My partner of course. Next year he's moving to Playa. But I still have some time to enjoy myself, so I'm doing that with all my passion."

She smiled. "You do that."

Maria broke the second egg in a glass of water to see the state of my energetic field after the 'limpieza' and all the attachments had disappeared except for one large bubble.

 "Here you see? That's Jorge. You two have a deep connection together."

We both smiled, gave each other a big kiss and I left the room with a certain glow, returning to a busy day at the office.

Following three job interviews I had held for the position of a new receptionist, I finally had a chance to check my emails. After not returning his third call when I was quietly enjoying my Sunday afternoon at the beach, it was no surprise to find an email from him between the long rows of electronic messages.

_Hi, how are you doing?_

_I understand you are not returning my calls. I don 't guess we can get to a different level of communication._

_Have a nice day._

_Kiss kiss_

"Sure we can my darling. At least you understand why I'm not returning your calls. I think you have suffered enough now," I spoke to my laptop.

Having just received a green light from Myrna after she had read her sensitive sentences that were to be transmitted to his persona through the next three chapters, I replied to his email attaching the eleven pages of my therapeutically writing and means of communication.

_Here 's a different level of communication. Call me when you've read the story. I'll pick up the phone this time. _

Enthusiastically Guapo ran to the door when he heard some familiar footsteps on the stairs. With an almost reticent smile he walked into the room and we embraced each other for a long time. How good it was to see his wise eyes again and to feel the familiar warmth of his body.

"What's happening?" he started the conversation with his proverbial sentence, sitting down on the couch. I poured him a tonic instead of his usual his mineral water and sat next to him, observing his movements and demeanor.

"I think you better tell me what's happening," I answered. "I've given you enough words to describe what has been going on in my life."

"I just want to talk and see if we can be friends again," he said sincerely.

"Then tell me what happened last weekend," I calmly asked.

"I think you're just overreacting. I mean, you get fucked up almost every night, seducing some boys and when you have a hangover your mind gets all messed up and you make problems that aren't really there."

"Hmmm... interesting thoughts," I said broodingly.

"I mean Saturday night you're with your gang, that group of delightful phony witches of Eastwick."

I burst out in laughter, enjoying his sharp sense of humor and my ability to laugh about my girlfriends and myself.

"You know, I don't drink and mostly I don't like the energy around people who drink. It's too noisy. I'm not trying to judge at all, you know that. And at times I enjoy the atmosphere if I'm there at the party from the beginning. You know what I mean?" he asked while looking deeply into my eyes.

"Yes I do," I said, while realizing that I had not thought about this point.

"So, I preferred to stay with my friends, dancing in front of the stage. You could've come over and danced with me, right?"

"Yes, you're very right," I quietly answered, nevertheless thinking about his less then enthusiastic reaction when I ran through the crowd to teasingly grab his ass and give him a big hug.

"And then you have a hangover the next day, get all weird and make problems."

"I didn't make any problems. As a matter of fact I felt very relaxed. You must have noticed that when I called you at the end of the morning, remember?"

"Yes, you're right, that's true. But sometimes things just happen."

"As if I don't realize that."

"I started playing with the guys and I just couldn't leave."

"Then why didn't you say so?"

"I did!"

"Maybe you thought you did. I remember word for word what you said. I have a trained memory for that, remember?"

"Yes, that's true," he admitted.

"You had some 'stuff' to do? What am I supposed to think? Some stuff... For all I know some bombshell came walking through your door."

"But it was nothing like that."

"Then why didn't you just say: 'Paula, I've started playing and I simply can't leave right now?' I'm the first one to understand. Jesus, you know that. A little communication would go a long way. Por favor!"

"It's just the Mexican way, don't make such a big deal out of it. It's not good getting all angry."

"Believe me, I was not angry at all last week. My actions were simply a reaction to your actions. That's all. And apparently it worked, because you even came looking for me at the beach yesterday."

"I asked you not to kill me, but you did."

"I guess you asked for it," I said calmly while barely withholding myself from passionately kissing him, realizing that it would spoil this precious moment of emotional revelations.

"You know, I'm a very complicated man and sometimes I get all-strange, and I just have to be by myself," he truthfully explained himself.

"I realize that, but a little communication would make all the difference."

"We just have to set up new rules to work with. I'm a Latino man. I just have my ways, what can I say. I can promise you one thing: it will happen again," he said teasingly. My vengeful Scorpio side would want to make him suffer even more, but my humanitarian Aquarius would brotherly understand.

"What can I say," I said with a soft smile. "Give a little, take a little."

With these words I ended this subject, realizing that sometimes it's wiser to be nice instead of being right. I also realized that women think so differently from men and the conversations with our girlfriends mostly enforced our own one-sided thoughts and didn't always help seeing the point of view of a man. After all, aren't we all a mirror for each other's projections?

 I admired his calm and wise approach at taking in all the words I had written that must have touched him deeply. We continued to talk for hours and hours about our lives, our hopes and hurts. I loved how he made me think about my actions, analyze my thoughts and dig through my emotions. I loved that he made me laugh. We talked about the necessity to heal the pain of our hearts and clean up our acts to continue to study the spiritual ways. I had missed our inspiring conversations, his wise words, his sharp intelligence and his quick sense of humor and I was grateful to be able to enjoy this beautiful mind again.

"Remember our bubble?" he asked.

"The pink bubble that burst."

"Maybe, you can blow it up again?" he asked hopefully and in an almost boyish manner.

"Ohhh, I'll blow..." I playfully answered while slowly unzipping his white pants, exposing a bright red slip that uncovered a hidden seductive side of this old hippie that I had not noticed yet.

We passionately made love and I realized that nothing was more satisfying than making love to a man that I truly loved. Sure, the effects of a more vigorous yoga regimen, a change in his diet and his plans to stop smoking weren't showing off just yet, but I had all the confidence that soon his hardness would fill me up in all it's splendor. In the mean time another Argentinean hero half Jorge's age but twice his stature did the job just splendidly. At least I remained faithful to his nationality.

I was just about to fall asleep when he pulled himself away from me and got out of bed.

"I have to sleep at home," he said calmly.

"Sure, mi amor," I peacefully answered.

Just before he opened the front door he turned around. "I love you."

"I love you too," I whispered dreamily.

"Maybe I am scared of you..."

**CHAPTER 27.**

**A TOUCH OF NARCISSUS**

"No!" I said resolute before she could even finish her question, feeling a panic entering my being at the thought of loosing my three loved ones. Finally the courageous woman got scared.

A smile appeared on Anya's face when she heard such a strong reaction on her question if I was willing to let go of my constant lifestyle practices to consume unhealthy amounts of alcohol, cocaine and mindless sex with one night stands.

We had resumed our therapy sessions shortly before Dick would return for the Holidays, so we could prepare ourselves for a few sessions with this fortunate couple. Anya had read the script, starting with the romance of Rodrigo and ending with the true found love of Dick and the scary return of Jorge. These pages formed the perfect material for this talented and inspiring therapist to make a correct and profound diagnosis.

"Normally I don't tell people their diagnosis," she told me a few weeks before. "It would most likely scare them in such a way that they wouldn't return for their sessions. I just start their sessions. But with you I know that you appreciate a direct approach and honesty. That works for you."

She was absolutely right about that and about the rest too.

"Because of a traumatic event in your childhood a part of your personality has split of. You have compensated for that loss with an extreme display of power, control and personal adequacy. When children are emotionally abused and have received excessive criticism they tend to develop what we call a narcissistic personality disorder. You have an unconscious awareness of inadequacy; not being good enough, and you hide that sense of incompetence by acting to the outside world as if you are very intelligent, smart and gifted."

"But I am!"

"I know that. You are also ambitious and multi-talented, but you have a complete inability to accept criticism in any way, shape or form."

"That is absolutely true."

"You have created an idealized self-image so you don't have to look at your normal human imperfections. There is an unquenchable thirst to fill that deep hole of inadequacy and you desperately and hungrily try to fill that hole with extreme attention seeking."

"Yes, I tend to be quite an exhibitionist."

"What do you feel when you are criticized?"

"I feel rejected and threatened."

"And how do you react usually?"

"There can be an eruption of disdain, anger and even rage. I take criticism very badly."

"So, you over compensate by trying to be Miss Perfect and receive the praise you think you so desperately need."

"So we need to work on my unconscious sense of inadequacy."

"Yes Paula, exactly. I must commend you though for your courage to tackle this problem. Rarely people go through the therapeutic process because of fear of exposure of their imaginary sense of inadequacy."

"Well, we all know were my deep rooted sense of insecurity comes from, now don't we?"

"Yes we do. And that's where we have to look at your addictions.  Below the layer of insecurity we find a place of deep pain for what your father has done to you. With alcohol and drugs and sex you try to numb that pain. You are addicted to anything that will fill that dark hole. If we don't first heal that pain we can't start to work on your unconscious sense of inadequacy."

"Doesn't sound like something I'll be looking forward to."

"Don't worry, we'll take it one step at the time. First we'll start by observing your addictions. Simply observe them without judgment. Then we'll take a look at your relationship with Dick and we certainly should schedule a few sessions when he comes to visit you for Christmas. From what I've read it looks like he's addicted to you. Unintentionally he is sustaining your addictive habits by accepting and therefore supporting them."

"I see. That makes sense."

"So, simply observe your addictions, nothing else. That's your assignment for your session for next week. We will analyze them one by one. And then we'll choose a moment to leave your addictions. Don't you think your fortieth birthday would be a good moment? It will give you a couple more months to mentally and emotionally prepare yourself. Think about it."

"I will think about it. I guess there is no other way around it."

"It's up to you Paula."

"I know."

The thought crossed my mind to finally tell Anya the secret about my relationship with Dick. There was no other way around it. I had to tell her about my secret.

The end of Book 1 of The Queen's Trilogy.

**About the Author:**

Paula Liebe (1965) was born and raised in Holland. The Queen's Trilogy is her first published work. She lives happily in Playa del Carmen, Mexico with her husband and their dog. She currently dedicates herself to teaching yoga and performing with her '30s style Cabaret show.

**Discover other titles by Paula Liebe at Smashwords.com:**

Book 2: The Queen's Boudoir https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/Liebe

When Paula Liebe travels back to Holland from her Mexican adventure, she's determined to find that big investor for the ecological and spiritual community she passionately wants to be part of. She imagines herself an intelligent courtesan of the 20th century and starts to work as a high-class escort, entertaining ambassadors and bank directors. Paula is convinced that the intriguing journey through this dangerous and erotic world will eventually lead her back to the Mayan mysteries in Mexico. At the same time Paula is very conscious of the fact that this sensual and sexual experience will uncover the darkest passage of her childhood abuse.

To further heal the wounds of her abuse Paula decides to continue her studies with the sacred plant medicine Ayahuasca and she travels back to the jungles of the Amazon, but instead of Brazil she is guided towards Peru. There she finds a female shaman with whom she strongly connects. Finally it looks like she is able to create a spiritual center and connect with the love of her life she's desperately looking for.

With a raw, sexy and humorous style Paula Liebe describes her life that reads like a sensual, spiritual and adventurous novel, but is in fact a true story.

**A sample reading of book 2 in the Queen 's trilogy: The Queen's Boudoir**

1st PROLOGUE

"Oh, oh my God, ohhh..." he groaned heavily into my ear and immediately I felt the rhythmical gushes of warm sperm spread between my thighs. Within a few minutes he left my room without saying a word. I felt alone, disgusted and completely humiliated.

After a while, when I was convinced he had fallen asleep in his downstairs bedroom, I tiptoed down the stairs to the bathroom and stepped under the shower to wash of the sticky cum from my belly and my legs.

My father's nightly visits had become less and less frequent, almost to a level of non-existence. Maybe because I had forcefully pushed him from me one night, loudly articulating that I didn't want this anymore. At least he had stopped the kissing, relieving me of the foul odor of his moustache.

I never could remember exactly when he started his sexual acts with me. From a certain time period there were clear memories, but the sexual performance was in such an advanced stage, almost like a consensual act, that it appeared we had been doing it for a while. I could vividly remember the small apartment we occupied. My mother had lived there before, but she had moved to the French Riviera with her brother. In one room my brother and sister were sleeping and my father and I were watching television on a mattress on the floor in the other room. We watched an episode of 'Sergeant Pepper' with Angie Dickinson, who played an undercover agent in a jail and where she got attacked with a pair of scissors.

He was nice and considerate and treated me like a grown up. He gave me attention. I felt special. We kissed like real grown ups and with his saliva he wet my young hairless lips. Then he placed his big, hard penis against the labia of my small pussy and then he started to ride me. Naturally my clitoris was stimulated and I would automatically experience an orgasm from the friction. He never tried to penetrate me. I was not quite ten years old.

I remember my age, because in the summer of that year, we visited the French nudist island of 'Ile du Levant'. It was the best vacation I had ever had as a child. Our father was consumed with the construction of his new restaurant 'Bajazzo', so we spent a fearless six weeks running around buck naked with lots of other kids, playing and swimming.  We saw our mom every single day as well as our favorite grandma, who played the role of our nanny. This was total paradise for us.

In August of that memorable summer, the community of the island held a beauty pageant and my mother had decided to enter. She was only twenty-seven years old, sweet and good-looking. I remember clearly that I hungered to be there on that stage. I was convinced that many men would go crazy for me, realizing I was only ten years old and that it was strange for a ten year old to feel such strong seductive emotions.

Because I was convinced that my father had never penetrated me and because his visits finally stopped around the age of fourteen, I never took his abuse seriously. I had thought to myself that it wasn't that bad. It could have been much worse. I had read true horror stories. My experience meant nothing compared to theirs. I was actually lucky.

There was only one solution to erase the imprint of that sick sexual exploitation by the man I hated and despised with all my being: making love to a beautiful man, a real man. Some boys at my high school had tried some French kissing and fumbled innocently with my breasts, but that just wouldn't do the trick for me.

I was young, my world was small, but my imagination was big and I was fully determined. During the daily walks with the two dogs, my sister, my brother and I passed the busiest and trendiest bar on our street, called 'Café 2005'. My father had the most successful restaurant on the same street, called 'Charcoal' and from what we understood the most original in the whole country.

A young man was working at 'Cafe 2005', whom I perceived as one of the most handsome men I had ever known. He was very tall, had a head full of big blond curls and the most beautiful blue eyes in which I could simply drown whenever he looked at me. Sweet and sexy twinkles appeared in his eyes when he smiled. I think I must have admired him for many years, but why would he notice a pre-pubescent girl when he looked like a rock star and was always surrounded by beautiful women?

In due time, little girls do grow up and he did start to notice me. I was ripe for sex, I fantasized about sex and I fantasized about making love to him. Nevertheless, I was considered much too young for adult affairs. My father wouldn't even allow me to have a boyfriend. This was going to be difficult and I needed all my creativity and a lot of patience to make my plan work.

My mother and her husband often had a drink at the bar he worked at and at last a time arrived when I was allowed to join them and have a cup of tea or a soda. Immediately I took the opportunity to carefully start some small talk with this, in my young teenage eyes, godlike man. It wasn't often I had the opportunity to actually hang around the bar and start a conversation, but I was a few steps closer to my goal.

His name was Honza. He had a funny accent because he came from the Czech Republic, the country he had fled from ten years before. The Russian invasion was the reason for his illegal departure. He was not only the sexiest god I had ever seen, he was also the most heroic man I knew in my small world. In addition I found out he was married, which made things more complicated.

Weeks, months and years went by. Whenever I walked by the bar, I scanned the front window to see if he was working and whenever our eyes met, I looked into these blue dreams with the deepest longing for his touch. Eventually he noticed.

One late summer afternoon, when I had just walked into the 'Denneweg' heading home from my ballet class, I saw him leaning against the façade of the bar, relaxed, sexy and clearly interested in talking with me.  As I walked towards his tall stature, in what seemed like an eternity, he looked straight into my eyes with a warm and sexy smile. I didn't feel nervous, but rather, I felt a sense of excitement. Finally there seemed to appear some progress in my plan.

"Hi!" he started self-assured.

"Hi," I responded a little uncertain, slowing down my pace.

Those eyes, that sexy smile and that beautiful deep masculine voice.

"Were you've been?" he asked with a special tone in his voice, a quality that made you stop walking and want to answer his question.

"I just came from ballet class. Peter Leonev is my teacher."

"Pfff, a Russian," Honza grunted.

"Actually, he's not really such a nice man," I apologized. "He's very serious and very strict and he never smiles."

"A day not lived is the day that you haven't smiled!" he spoke with his beautiful deep laugh.

"So, I..." I had no idea what to say.

"Where are you going? Home?" He was a professional at keeping the conversation going.

"Yes. But first I need to pick up some publicity material from the drugstore further down the street. I do my rounds in the neighborhood to make some extra pocket money. And sometimes I wash cars."

"Your father doesn't give you any pocket money?"

"Pfff..." I grunted in exactly the same way. "If I would have gotten a dime for every single one of my father's shirts I have ironed in my life, I would be a rich girl. Well, a little richer," I tried to joke.

"So you like to iron?"

"I'm good at it, let's put it that way. You first do the collar and then the arms and then the larger parts, because if you do them the other way around, you wrinkle the large parts again when you fumble with the collar. Those American shirts, you know that fabric wrinkles easily," I seriously explained.

He looked amused.

"My wife used to iron my shirts."

"Not anymore?"

"Not since we got divorced"

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Don't be. We're still good friends and we will always be. It was time. I'm very much enjoying my freedom, but there is one thing I really don't like about my freedom."

"And that is?"

"Ironing my shirts. I hate ironing."

I came up with an idea. It was now or never. "Well, you know..." I started casually, "Maybe I can iron some of your shirts and in that way I can make some extra pocket money. I honestly don't charge much," I ended with a serious tone.

We quickly agreed on a price per shirt. We picked a day and time in the afternoon in the upcoming week. I would visit his place to do some household chores.  He told me the address, which turned out to be only two blocks from my house. I had no idea how to pull this off at home, because I had no free time. It was school, walking the dogs - mostly with my brother and sister - ballet classes, chores for pocket money and the rest of the time I was home. Everybody always knew were you were, were you were going and when you were coming back. A 'tour de force' this would be.

The following Friday evening, I spent the night at my mother's apartment. My brother, sister and I were all individually allowed to sleep one evening a week at my mother's. My mother and her husband both worked the evenings in restaurants, so in the mornings they slept in late.  I was wide-awake as soon as daylight dawned. All I could think of was Honza. I thought of his laugh, his voice, his eyes, his beautiful hands and the intense desire to be in his strong arms and make love to him.

Suddenly I had a brilliant idea. My mother probably wouldn't wake up before ten o'clock, so I could take advantage of those hours when nobody knew where I was. I would say that I went to the beach for a walk, even though it was cloudy and a little chilly. I needed to think. I figured she would buy my story. I wanted to get some croissants, so I waited until 8 o'clock before I left the house. Half an hour later I pressed the doorbell just a little too long, holding a bag with two fresh croissants in my other hand.

I wasn't sure if he really was that happy to see me at this unexpected hour. He seemed a little foggy and grumpy. In my young world I had never experienced a 'hang over' or too little sleep from a long night of partying. I couldn't relate and barely seemed to notice his physical discomfort.

"Let me take a quick shower to wake up alright?" he said, still friendly as always.

While I heard the sounds of a running shower, I observed the romantic loft. The coffee table was covered with ashtrays filled with cigarette butts and a few half empty glasses with some gold colored liquid. I also saw a little antique box filled with hashish and some large rolling papers. Those specific items I recognized from my mother's apartment, although my mother was very discreet about her use and wouldn't leave them lying around. The ironing board was standing in the middle of the room, the iron clearly missing. Small stairs led to the upper part of the loft where I could see a large bed. I placed the bag of croissants on the ironing board and I walked up the stairs towards the bed. I took off all my clothes and lay down on the mattress completely naked, impatiently waiting for him to find me. I had nothing to lose.

His surprised look at this unexpected and bold action of mine quickly turned into an admiring one, his eyes following the curves of my young body. I noticed a moment of hesitation.

"How old are you really, my little Paula?"

"Seventeen." I lied with a determined voice.

He sat down on the edge of the bed and gently started caressing me. He caressed my hair, my face, my breasts and my belly, all the while looking at me as if I was the most precious thing he had ever seen in his entire life. He started to kiss me, first softly and soon with more urgency. His kissing was delicious and I could feel his lips forever on mine, but he pulled himself away from my mouth.  Covering me with little kisses, he slowly moved his face from my breasts down towards my belly until he landed his tongue between the little auburn colored curls, finding his way towards the soft flesh of my lips. I thought I was in heaven. Nobody had ever touched me that way. I had no idea this was possible.

He continued to lick me and suck me, once in while looking up to watch my face that was lost in pleasure. When I did look up, I saw his mouth shining from my juices and when I noticed his smile, I was convinced he was in heaven too. He continued until I had the most intense orgasm and for a moment I forgot where I was. After a while I heard Honza's warm voice.

"Is this the first time a man has touched you?"

"Yes, the very first time," I lied.

"Then we have much more to explore."

"Yes, we do."

Again we started to kiss, more passionately this time, our bodies entwined in a sensual dance, his hard penis finding his way between my lips. For a while we rode each other, enjoying the rhythmic friction of his penis against my clitoris. Then he carefully started to enter my vagina, the round tip of his penis barely covered. I suddenly jerked back.

"No!" I said firm. "That, I don't want."

He was so big. It would hurt.

"Don't worry, it's okay," he whispered reassuringly, "Sweetheart, nothing will happen. Nothing that you do not want."

We continued, me on top this time. This felt like making love, this was the way it was supposed to be and soon I had another orgasm. I moaned ever so softly.

Of course my mother didn't buy the stormy weather beach story. A few more times we saw each other secretly, but we had to admit that we found ourselves in the most impossible situation. I was too young for him. He was too old for me. My father was too dangerous for both of us. He probably would have killed him if he had ever found out.

As a young teenage girl, I once had displayed my femininity a little too much to his liking. He threatened me with the same fate that pretty Jewish girls had in the camps of the Second World War. Between his rows of books I had found a book, a diary of a young beautiful Jewish girl from Poland who was forced into sex slavery in the Nazi camps. She wrote in detail. Yeah dad, lesson learned.

1. FIRST ASSIGNMENT

Swiftly I stepped into the idling black car and the young driver told me reassuringly it would take around fifty minutes to reach our destination. I had no desire to chat with Raymond, because I hardly knew this blond chap. More importantly, I wanted to prepare myself mentally and emotionally for the task at hand. I didn't feel any nervousness, but I did feel a sense of excitement and anticipation for this first assignment in my new career.

Comfortably I positioned myself in the back seat and promptly the black car accelerated towards the highway. Some vaguely familiar pop songs filled the car. As soft orange and purple hues of a typically Dutch early summer sun beautifully colored the landscape rushing by me, my mind wandered back to what led me to the situation I found myself in at this very precise moment.

After living a fulfilling season in the magical Mayan Riviera, I had recently returned to Holland to refuel as well as to find an investor for the ecological jungle village 'Pueblo Sacbe'. Eventually I would return to the place I felt at home, Playa del Carmen. There was no doubt of this.  When and how this return would unfold I would leave to the exquisite mastery of the Universe.

Omar, my mother's ex-husband, had generously offered me his home while he moved to my mother's apartment. They were a picture perfect example of a divorce that had ended well. Through the windows I could see the elderly home across the street where my grandmother was residing. She had moved there four years ago when she couldn't take care of herself anymore. She very much enjoyed the group activities, as she was a very social person. She even had found some romance. Her health was deteriorating rapidly and she was now permanently held at the medical ward of the elderly home. She had taken me in her home when I ran away from an abusive father at the age of sixteen.  She had taken very good care of me while I finished my school and even after those years she was always an enormous emotional support for me.  At times she was my only confidant. Now it was my time to take care of her.

There was no defined illness that barely allowed her to move, let alone speak. It was simply the final stages of an eighty nine year old body that had lived a full and rich life. The moment I entered the room her wrinkled face would light up with a frail smile, grateful for my presence and my loving care. Since she could hardly move she needed to be fed. The nurses had little time for these tasks, only giving her a few spoons when they delivered her meals. She was a dedicated vegetarian, but the food she was offered did not include any protein replacements, so it wasn't any wonder that my grandmother was practically wasting away. Immediately I took a trip to the health food store and stocked up with some protein filled and easy to swallow items. I also bought her a small portable radio/cd player, so my 'omi' could enjoy her favorite classical music. Twice a day I would visit her, kiss her sweet little face, massage her purple brown legs, feed her and tell her about my Mayan adventures. Weeks went by until one Sunday morning she quietly left her body. She had waited for the moment neither my mother nor myself were present in order for her to be alone with her mother who was waiting to welcome her into the heavenly realms.

Unlike my younger brother's memorial service seven years before, my grandmother's funeral was almost a happy one. My mother and I worked closely together on the preparations for her cremation, never once shedding a tear, but lovingly working side by side. My mother created a beautiful corpse shroud with the ivory colored lace of my great grandmothers wedding dress.

It was a warm and sunny spring morning when the invited family members and close friends started to arrive in the hall where the silhouette of my beloved grand mother lay under the subtly formed piece of fabric. Everybody was dressed in white as we had requested. Her daughter danced a performance from 'Giselle', her great granddaughter Kimmy recited a poem and her favorite gay couple sang a song from a musical accompanied by piano and saxophone. Before everybody would have the opportunity to bid their final farewells I completed the ceremony with a guided meditation dedicated to the vivid remembrance of a flamboyant and creative soul who believed in God and the good things in life.

After the ceremony we moved outside. The agreeable temperature and a bright sun pulled us towards the beach where our oddly dressed group of people sat in front of a the beach club 'La Cantina'. We ordered beer, wine and some snacks. We sat or lay in the sand on large pieces of Indian colored cotton or beach towels, talking, laughing, and celebrating life exactly how my grandmother would have wanted us to do at her final earthly goodbye party.

With a hint of a smile around my lips my mind returned from my musings of my grandmother to the present reality. I noticed a subtle darkening in the colors around us. Soft lavender and sweet mandarin hues that were present earlier were replaced with rich oranges and dark rubies.

"Raymond sweetheart, how much longer until we reach our destination?" I asked with a distinguished but honey-coated voice, already preparing myself for my upcoming character.

"Maria, we are not far from our destination. Maybe another 20 minutes." He responded politely, aware of the situation that I was new and about to be delivered to a specific address. For some reason I didn't feel like a new comer and I comfortably returned to my thoughts.

A few days after my grandmother's funeral I found myself at my mother's shop assisting her with her most recent project, creating bedroom curtains for the new royal couple, princess Maxima and crown prince Alexander. We were applying the last details when my mother remarked that her work of art was missing a final touch; a label with her name. Just in case that princess Laurentine was inspired by her sister in laws' interior design and wanted to make use of my mother's services.

I pulled out the Yellow Pages, quickly found a suitable company and placed an order for elegant cotton labels with my mother's name, 'Hermione Liebe', written in an antique font. While flipping through the pages my eyes had been caught by an advertisement that kept on lingering in my mind for days to come. It was a large classified ad with a classy design that read: WOMEN OF THE WORLD; run by women, done by women. Instantaneously my mind was drawn to the story of one of my most favorite movies, 'A Destiny of her Own'. This movie was the historically based drama of Veronica Franco released in the late nineties. I had seen that movie at least half a dozen times, absolutely and utterly convinced that her story was one of my past lives; the life of a high placed courtesan at the Venetian court.

This was the only profession, and unquestionably a highly regarded and respected career from the 14th through the 19th century, that allowed women to enter libraries and read.  They mingled among intellectuals, intelligent and highly placed politicians and royalty, when other women, no matter their breed, upbringing or wealth, were barely allowed to read more than the Bible. More than anything a courtesan was successful for her wit, her intelligence and sense of humor. Cultural, political and historical education was an important part of a courtesans tutoring, as was classical music, poetry and other fine arts, culinary etiquette, and the more sensual aspects of a courtesans duties.

People who held high positions married for political reasons and often did not live together for most parts of their lives, making the profession of courtesan a common accepted necessity. Furthermore it was not uncommon that a woman at an already high position in the aristocratic peck order was married to a man of lesser breed and in order for her husband to move up that order, she would court some royalty for a certain period of time who desired her intimacy. Business as usual.

More often than not though, the life of a courtesan ended unfortunate. There were times when courtesans were prosecuted by the church. Their promiscuity was seen as evil and their power over men interpreted as witchcraft. To hold a position at the court past their prime years was a challenge and internal intrigues, poisonings and murders were not an unusual part of the courtesans' life. Nevertheless, some women used their intelligence to safeguard their future, both financially and professionally and turned out to be savvy businesswomen.

I found it extremely amusing that the members of the Dutch Royal court had unintentionally initiated my new career move that was based on centuries old customs at other European courts. The Dutch Royal family inadvertently had a hand in my decision to spread my legs for money. Considering their covert political schemes and worldly intrigues that are so typical for Royal families and their courts, this probably was one of their lesser sins.

How many women at one point in their lives have dreamed of playing the role of an expensive escort? The daydream of being picked up by a shiny limousine in a metropolitan city like Paris, an older but handsome businessman overwhelming you with expensive gifts and all in return for some intelligent conversation, feigned affection and some sexual activities, which often weren't unpleasant at all. Many have dreamed, but few have had the balls to act out on their dreams.

Before I made any rash decisions on pursuing my new career I decided to consult with my three most intimate friends. Mary, a slightly older and very close American friend, was an extremely spiritual and intelligent psychologist and I valued her opinion immensely. Pom, an older aunt and certified homeopath, was the only family member at that time that I chose to consult with. And of course Mariska, the girl that had generously offered me a room in her small fisherman's house at the time I was preparing for my move to Playa del Carmen. She was one of those women who once had that dream and indeed had the balls but not the right spirit to do this kind of work. She was like a partner in crime, but without committing the sin.

At the age of thirty six, without any financial troubles nor alcohol or drug related problems, but with a healthy spiritual life that consisted of a regular yoga practice and weekly Santo Daime church visits, my decision was based on a strong desire to make this dream come true. Actually, it wasn't only that. I absolutely needed to do this. It was my destiny, a destiny of my own. I was made for this. At least, that's what two of my friends had said to me. All three of them completely supported me in my decision and we came to the conclusion that this conscious choice in my life would serve as one of the final parts of my healing from the sexual abuse of my father. Not only did I full heartedly want to do this, I most definitely needed to do this.

The slowing down of the car woke me up from my contemplations. A few turns later the car stopped in front of the house of my first client. So much for my imaginings of arriving at a villa of a rich businessman. This was an ordinary house on an ordinary street. New girls were always being sent to this specific client first. He liked new, inexperienced girls and I was to find out why later in the evening. I was ordered for two hours. I mentally reviewed my instructions: don't forget to introduce yourself with your working name, first call the agency to inform them that you have arrived safely, then handle all financial issues, don't leave your drink unattended as they might put something in it, don't share any personal information, talk as long as possible because when the sex act is done, you're gone. Last but not least, always use a condom. Easy. Well... maybe not that last part.

I took a deep breath, tussled my long copper colored curls, straightened my skirt over my black laced garter belts and stockings, placed my finger on the doorbell and pushed a little too long. An ordinary looking middle-aged man with thin ash blond hair and old-fashioned glasses opened the door and politely invited me into his house.

"Good evening, I'm Pa... Maria," I started with a warm smile.

"Well... Maria, how nice to have you here tonight." He had a friendly tone in his voice, although I sensed a slight disappointment, which I assumed was because I was not as young as he would have liked. "My name is Peter, but I guess they have told you that at the agency."

"Indeed they have Peter, but they didn't tell me what sign you are," I continued our introduction, a playful smile.

He laughed oddly at my comment, obviously he did not take astrology very seriously.

"My birthday is the 25th of September, so what sign would that make me?" he asked.

"That would make you a Libra. Usually they are very intelligent and intellectual people, and peaceful and balanced," I flattered him. "Sometimes they have a hidden sensuality. Are you a sensual person Peter?" I teased.

He looked anything but sensual but the more unexpected the questions, the better assessment of the situation I could make in order to determine with what kind of client I was dealing with.

"I would consider myself an intellectual, but..." he answered a little timidly.

"How sensual you are we'll find out later, now won't we?" I interrupted him with a naughty look, surprised at myself at how easily I was performing the role of professional seductress.

He escorted me towards the living room and invited me to take a place on the large leather chair across from the sofa were I noticed he had been reading 'Narcissus and Goldmund' by Herman Hesse.

"Please, make yourself comfortable while I get us something to drink. Any preferences?"

I noticed some white wine in a large glass on the marble coffee table.

"A glass of white wine would be lovely" I replied in the same friendly tone of voice.

I measured up the room, the artwork, the books, the cleanliness, and the choice of furniture.  I observed that this man certainly had a good taste in literature, but his good taste did not extend to his interior decorations. When he brought us a wine cooler with an unopened bottle of Pinot Grigio, I was relieved that my chances of being drugged were somewhat reduced. I complemented him on his excellent choice of wine and asked him what other kind of grapes he liked. We were chatting away about the differences in French and Italian white wines, the distinctive taste of a Gewürztraminer and the sometimes-surprising quality of the Argentinean and Chilean red varieties like a Malbec or a Tempranillo.

"How is it that you know so much about wines?" he asked curiously.

"When you learn to eat escargots and sweetbread in the famous restaurant 'Maxim' in Paris at the age of ten, one tends to develop a good taste for fine wines," I answered with a proud smile. I was focused on continuing the conversation. "My father had three successful restaurants, so I kind of grew up in the culinary business. He always took us to expensive places and made us try all kinds of dishes with exotic names. I must admit that he helped me in developing an exquisite taste for good food and wines."

"And where did your father have these restaurants?" he asked.

"In Amsterdam," I lied, realizing I quickly needed to change to a more neutral topic. As my mind raced as to how I could switch the conversation my cell phone rang. It was the agency. I had forgotten to call upon arrival. I quickly dealt with the call and returned to our conversation, grateful for the opportunity to talk about an entirely different subject: money.

"Peter, don't you think we will continue to talk with each other in a more relaxed way if we first finish our financial business?" I asked him in a casual manner that carried with it a serious tone.

"Of course, my dear Maria," he answered almost a little defensively.

For the first time in my new career I pulled out my small credit card machine from my classy black purse. Before carefully placing the appropriate slip and his credit card into the machine, I filled in the numbers. With determination, I pulled the top part of the machine from the left to the right and then back, and noticed with a certain amount of satisfaction that the transaction was printed out successfully with only two strokes. A signature from the most ordinary looking middle-aged man was all that was left to complete this business deal. With almost an irritated look, as if he didn't want to validate the true meaning of his act, as if he wanted to pretend that this was a casual date, he signed. It was official now. My services as a sensual, intelligent, and witty woman had to be paid for. In my eyes I was a modern aged courtesan. In most peoples eyes I was nothing but an ordinary prostitute.

With a glamorous smile I packed away the machine and slips and continued like a seasoned professional.

"I'm so glad we got this stuff behind us, Peter. Where were we? Let's go back to what we were talking about... our French restaurants and exquisite food. Please tell me, what is one of your favorite dishes?"

I hit the jackpot this time. Peter happened to love trout and he enthusiastically told me everything about his passion, including where to catch the best trout, how to prepare it for cooking and even how it should be filleted.

"Let me tell you a story I think you will find interesting," I interrupted him with equal enthusiasm.  "When I was only 21 years old I stayed with some friends in Laussane, Switserland. One day I decided to travel to Geneva, because I love to explore new places. Too late I realized I had spent all my money and couldn't buy a bus ticket for the trip back to Lausanne. So I decided to hitchhike. I did not have to wait long before a polished businessman in a shiny silver gray BMW picked me up. Instead of hitting on me, as I had expected, he invited me to his favorite trout restaurant, where he taught me how to skillfully filet a trout.  After a delicious meal he then dropped me off in front of my friend's villa. Imagine Peter, he could have kidnapped me and I could have been stuck in an Arabian harem for the rest of my life!" I exclaimed with incredulous tones.

He looked at me with a look in his eyes that made me realize that my adventurous stories were a little too much for this ordinary man's life. I promptly returned to a neutral theme in conversation.

"Peter, I can't believe that one of my favorite German pieces of literature is lying right there on your sofa!"

He promptly looked around, and picked up the paperback copy of one of Hesse's masterpieces that I had noticed lying on his sofa when I first arrived. He looked at me, a big smile of what seemed like recognition registering on his face. I recounted the scene when Goldmund and Narcissus talked about the sun and the moon, a scene that had always stayed with me.

"Yes, that is a beautiful chapter. But I have yet to finish the book, so I can't make a decision as to which part will stay with me," he stated kind of dryly. "I do have that with a teaching from Rudolf Steiner..."

"Rudolf Steiner?" I said enthusiastically, "Really? You know I..." Just in time I caught myself about to share too much personal information. I continued, "My father had a few of his books and I remember having picked them up and being intrigued by them"

We continued to talk about literature, then we moved to his profession and his work and last but not least he mentioned dessert.

"Maria, don't you think it's time you come sit next to me and show me how beautiful you really are," he said kind of awkwardly as if it took him some effort to formulate a seductive sentence.

I gave him a promising smile, slowly got up from my chair and thought that I had performed a pretty good job so far, having only 18 minutes left for the sexual action. I positioned myself in front of him and slowly started unbuttoning my sheer gold satin blouse, revealing a black bodice laced with champagne-colored embroidered flowers. Then I undid the zipper on my black pencil skirt, which permitted it to slide from my hips, uncovering the garter belts and sheer satin stockings. I did not take off my shiny black shoes with 6-inch heels.

Peter held his breath for a moment.

"Why don't you tell me what you had in mind," I asked him with a husky voice, bringing one of my knees to rest on the carpet so I could position myself to get my hands on his brown belt.  Teasingly I started unzipping his pants. Purposefully I focused on his genitals, because the last thing I wanted to engage in was kissing. As a high-class escort I was expected to kiss if they wanted me to. But Peter had smoked a few small cigars earlier and I had no desire to share that bitter smoky taste.

"I like what you are doing right now Maria, please go on..." he said with a breathy voice. By now I had removed his underpants and was gently peeling the foreskin back from his reasonably hard cock. His skin was quite dry so I skillfully placed a few drops of lubricant I had brought in my purse as I rhythmically stroked him. I was careful to apply the right amount of pressure and motion, not too hard and not too soft, not too far down or too far up. His cock grew harder and his breaths became deeper.

"Maria, that feels so good, please go on, just as you are doing."

I felt as if I were outside myself, as if I was watching myself perform as an actress in a movie. However in this movie, I was not only the actress, but also the director and scriptwriter.

"Maria, come closer, I want to see your pussy," he said hungrily.

"Sure baby, I'm going to take off my panties so you can see my shiny lips."

While his eyes were focused on the uncovering of a thin stripe of copper curly hair I adeptly fished a condom from my purse that was behind me and opened the plastic. Before Peter was aware what was happening the condom was half way rolled over his member.

"Oh Maria, please...?" he started urgently, almost demanding. "Can't we do it without...  just once...?"

Before he finished his sentence I felt his hardness starting to melt. That was why he was keen on young inexperienced girls. They could be persuaded much more easily to not use a rubber. I peeled off the condom and continued to masturbate him while hovering over his half naked body, making rhythmic moves with my pelvis and breathing heavily. It worked. I few thick drops of a cream colored substance lay proudly shining on his fat, milk white belly. My cell phone rang. It was the agency. My time was up.

We politely bid goodbye, both knowing that he would not call for me again. Sometimes the clients don't want intelligent entertainment and I did not take it personally. Rather, I felt powerful and sexy. I stepped into the waiting car and fell into the backseat with a proud smile. I had no idea it would be that easy. And it felt so familiar to me.  As a curious young girl, I had been easily persuaded.  As I grew into my teens and early twenties, I thought sex was expected of me, and that that was the way to get men to like me. And I was a horny little lady.  Now, two decades later, I was older and wiser.  I liked the experience.  It felt good. In fact it felt very good. I wanted more.

"Raymond," I asked, "Who's next?"

2. NEXT

"Looks like you have developed a taste for this work in record time," Raymond grinned.

"My first client? Really, he was a piece of cake. I want some real action now. Any more clients?" I asked eagerly.

"Pascal, our favorite girl is having some problems. A client who refuses to wear a condom and... well, so the agency asked if you would be willing to ...well you know..., replace her." Raymond responded.

"No problem. Where are we going?" I asked eagerly.

"We're going to the Hotel Pulitzer!" he answered reassured.

The Pulitzer is one of the classiest hotels in Amsterdam and the guests were mostly rich businessmen or famous musicians or actors. Raymond couldn't tell me more details, but I anticipated a rich, famous and attractive client. I also understood that in certain circumstances my age was an advantage. Through the additional years, I had gained more life experiences, people knowledge, but more importantly, the ability to take control of the situation I would find myself in with this new client. Although a man might hire our services, he is not the one who decides what happens. It is always the girl who decides how the services get delivered. She is the one who directs the setting. And it is important to have that attitude in order to keep control in an always potentially risky situation. There are many weirdos with kinky fantasies out there.

A very classy dressing style was my signature, as were fake reading glasses, a large shiny black purse and a confident power walk, so as to look like a successful international business woman. The employees at the reception rarely looked up when I strode out to the elevator, except for an occasional male employee who tossed me an admiring look that I always returned with a little flirty smile.

I knocked on the door.

"It's open."

I heard a strong dark voice with an educated British accent. I placed my hand on a 19th century style door handle, opened the heavy door and entered an immense suite, lavishly decorated with the most beautiful silk curtains in rich colors, exactly matching the finely printed wallpaper and thick carpet. Across the room was a grand, king-sized bed with a huge and elaborate carved headboard. A medium built man had placed himself comfortably against many propped up feather pillows. He was dressed only in a thick white bathrobe. His curly black hair was still dripping, signifying he just had taken a shower. His large nose and mouth and olive colored skin gave him an Arab appearance. I didn't give him more than forty years. His arrogant and conceited look certainly didn't give him an attractive appearance, although he was appealing in a certain way. This would be an interesting one.

"I thought they would send another blond," he said deprecatingly.

"Well, you're in luck tonight. I'm a natural redhead and you know what they say about redheads. They have an insatiable appetite for sex!"

A glimpse of a smile appeared beneath his pompous façade.

"Help yourself to a drink from the mini bar and while you're at it, get me another Chivas."

Demanding boy.

"In a minute darling. We first need to take care of some business."

"There is an envelope on top of the dresser. The exact amount should be in there. Count it."

I ignored his demand, visibly placed the unopened envelope in my purse and sensually swayed towards the mini bar. I found one bottle left of Chivas and I took one of the three small bottles of Moet Chandon.

"Let me pour us a drink first and then I'll call the agency to let them know that you haven't pulled a Charlie Sheen on me."

"You're astute! I like that!" he said with that haughty British accent.

I called the agency to inform that I had arrived safely and Esther reassuringly said that if he refused to use a condom I could simply leave, and if she did not hear back from me she would call in exactly one hour.

"What's the man's name?" I whispered.

"William Massri."

"Is that Egyptian?"

"I think so."

"I'll do my best..."

I turned around and saw that he had opened his bathrobe, showing a large circumcised erection. There would be very little talk and this would be hard work.

"Well William, my Egyptian prince... that's looks very promising," I said seductively, while I neared the bed undoing myself from my blouse and skirt, leaving nothing but expensive lace.

"How do you know I'm Egyptian?" he asked, caught off guard.

"My father is Moroccan. I know the difference in family names," I lied to him, "But don't worry, I wasn't raised Muslim, so your secret is safe with me." My prominent nose was the evidence he needed to believe in this little role-play and he seemed fascinated with this new knowledge. Finally he asked my name.

"Maria doesn't sound like a Moroccan name to me."

"Fatima and Aisha don't do it so well in the high class escort world, don't you agree?"

He grinned. "My name isn't exactly Egyptian either. My mother is British. I was born there, so technically speaking I'm not Egyptian." He looked at his cock and continued. "But this sure is..."

I couldn't think of any other subject to talk about in order to divert him from getting down to business. I had to admit that his cock was really beautiful, the dark olive color, the smooth silky texture, the erectness and the full round shape of the tip of his penis that was a shade lighter in color.

"You can start sucking me," he ordered unemotionally.

I decided to enjoy this gorgeous cock without a condom. It would be a waste of such an exquisite example of male beauty. I hated the taste and rubbery smell of condoms and I simply loved to suck dick. I crawled over the huge bed towards his hard member, smelling the expensive hotel soap and started to circle my tongue around the full tip, slowly finding my way down the hard shaft, playing a short moment with his shaved balls. I placed a few of my fingers at the base of his shaft and applied a light pressure while I slowly took his full cock in my mouth, lightly sucking and circling my tongue around while moving up and down his silky smooth skin, feeling his hardness grow even stronger. This was delicious.

"Ohhh... you're good," he moaned. "You're really good."

Inside I smiled, fully taking in the quality of this moment. I felt on top of the world and completely in control.

"I want you to come and sit on top of me and ride me... Take off your panties. I want to see that wet pussy of yours," he ordered again, but this time with clear excitement in his voice.

I peeled of my panties and discreetly pulled a condom from my purse.

"I want to see your tits too. I want to see your nipples. Are they hard?"

"See for yourself darling" and I quickly unsnapped my bra, proudly showing my firm breasts.

"Beautiful..." he sighed again.

I hovered above his dick teasingly, touching his sensitive skin with my aroused nipples.

"I want to feel those juicy lips of yours around my cock..." he said breathlessly and he started pulling my hips towards his cock, ready to mount me on top of him. The movement was tempting, because I was horny as hell by now, but his arrogance and distance made me decide to be firm on this subject.

"You like good sex?" I asked teasingly.

"Now more than ever..."

"I'm good because I practiced... with many men... that's why you want to use a condom. You won't even notice." Before he had time to respond, I had a condom rolled over his penis and lowered my wet hungry lips over his hard big cock and rhythmically started circling around and around, up and down. This wasn't bad at all.

"You fuck good, you fuck really good woman. But now I want to fuck you!"

In an instant his strong arms pulled me down and now his body was above me, his coarse chest hairs pressed against my breasts and he started to kiss me. He was a terrible kisser, with a hard and pointy tongue and his cologne, or whatever he used, was simply disgusting. I tried to hold my nose and let him thrust for a while until I had the opportunity to loosen myself from his grip and offer myself from behind. He apparently enjoyed the view of my round freckled ass and helped himself inside. I checked with a finger if the condom was still in place, tilted my hips so he wouldn't be able to thrust too deep and fantasized that one of my lovers was fucking me hard. He came. I didn't.

Freshly showered, dressed and with a new layer of make-up, I left the bathroom, ready to take my leave. William was still lying on the bed, a glass of whiskey in his hand and a hint of a satisfied smile around his lips, as he observed my moves.

"You know Maria, you're not my type at all, but I must admit I enjoyed your visit. You're different. Whenever I'm on a business trip I indulge in a little of life's carnal pleasures, but I've never met a girl who truly seems to enjoy what she is doing. I'm a sucker for blond hair and big tits, so I won't ask for you again, but I will inform the agency of your talents."

"Thank you William, that is most generous of you."

He produced the most generous smile so far and it wasn't much.

"You can go now," he ended abruptly.

I placed my glasses on my nose, shot him one more glance and confidently walked out the door. Great kisser or terrible kisser, big dick or small weenie, skinny, bald or fat, attractive or homely, it all didn't matter. What did matter was a person's scent. Just the thought of having to endure another man with such an odor made me cringe. I called the agency.

"How did it go?"

"Excellent. We used a condom, he is satisfied, but jeez, what an arrogant prick!"

"I know, he's a regular, but it's good practice."

"You bet it is."

"It's your first night and you might want to go home now, but if you're up for it I have another client for you. He's very nice. The girls really like him, so what do you think? It's only for one hour."

The visit to the Pulitzer had been short and to the point. It was still early and I was curious to discover what would make this client so nice.

"Of course I'm up for it!" I answered enthusiastically.

While Raymond drove me to the next location, I thought about the fact that the success of a visit to a client is very dependent on the click you make as personalities. Next to the hoped for attractive client, there was also the hope to meet a great personality, to have fun, to laugh, to be inspired.

"Hi, I'm Hugo!"

A tall guy in his late twenties welcomed me with the warmest smile. I wouldn't send him to a modeling agency, but this guy was certainly good looking. A bunch of wild brownish curls framed his face, almost covering his green friendly eyes and I noticed a familiar shaped nose above a sensual mouth.

"Well, hi! I'm Maria," I answered back friendly.

He was dressed in casual jeans, a unique colored shirt you would only find in a vintage store and some black Brazilian flip flops that perfectly fitted the sultry summer night. His ultra modern apartment bordered one of the Amsterdam canals and featured some interesting pieces of art, including a large metal sculpture of a mermaid that reminded me of the Goddess of the Sea, Yemanja.

"Could I offer you some iced mint tea with honey?"

"Yes, you could honey," I giggled, "You don't drink?"

"Very little. I prefer the green medicine."

This was turning out to be too good to be true. "Me too..."

"Why...? You don't like champagne?"

"My favorite! But I do a lot of spiritual work and alcohol interferes too much with the ceremonies I attend."

"I want to talk more about that later. But first I want to play you a song: Summertime."

He looked at me with those big green eyes, so at ease, so himself, so sexy.

"Wait! Please, wait!" I interrupted. "I want to hear and enjoy every single note you play. But I first need to call the agency and do the money thing, you know."

He apologized for not taking care of that issue and immediately handed me the folded cash from his shirt pocket. I quickly counted the bills and put them away. After a short call to the agency, I sat down on the couch and he seated himself on the floor in front of me. Then he gently wept 'Summertime' with his voice and his guitar.

"That was really beautiful... I don't know what to say..."

"No need to say anything. Do you sing?"

" I wish... I don't have much of a voice. I sang a little bit in a choir."

"Which choir?

"The Waldorf School Choir."

"That's a very well known choir. They performed for the crowning of your Queen Beatrix. Did you know that?"

How could I not? We all practiced for months and months and I simply loved singing. But one morning during a private teaching for my class, our teacher asked me to sing. He looked into my eyes. His eyes had the same ice blue color as my fathers. He looked too long and too serious. I tried to sing. A thin sound escaped from my throat. Nothing more.

"A breathtaking performance," I was able to reply, looking up from Hugo's guitar into his green poet like eyes.

"A Rudolf Steiner fan?"

"My family seems to be," I answered.

"And you?"

"I can't seem to disagree."

"Let me get us something to smoke," he said while he got up and fumbled a little with an iPod. Some smooth Bossa Nova tunes filled the high room and before I realized it, he had returned, his hand resting on my shoulder.

"Would you please allow me to take off your clothes, Maria?"

He passed me the lighted joint and with his free hands he started to unbutton my blouse. I inhaled deeply from the quality weed. One by one he peeled of the layers of my clothes and lace, all the while continuously covering my skin with little kisses.

"You are so beautiful, so beautiful... I love strong women. How come you are so muscular?"

"I practice yoga," I answered peacefully. "Well, power yoga actually and some aerobics and tai-bo."

"Yoga. That's an interesting combination with your profession."

"That depends on how you look at it."

He paused for a moment trying to make sense of what I just said. " Have you ever been to India?"

"Yes! That's where I had my first introduction to yoga."

"Any other countries you have traveled to?"

"Well, practically all of Europe, but mostly France and Italy were I lived for a year. Then I lived in the United States for four years and I've traveled to Thailand. I've also lived in Brazil for six months and recently I've returned from a season in Mexico."

"Impressive... I wish I could travel that much."

"You can if you set your mind to it. You create your own future, you know."

He laughed a sweet, warm laugh. "That's easier said than done. I didn't have much of an education, so I started working at a young age and bought this apartment, which was a dump at the time. It took a lot to fix it up, but I think I've come a long way. I have a good position at a handy store chain, so that helps in continuing to fix up this house and to pay the mortgage."

"Then how can you afford such expensive women like me?"

Again he laughed quietly. "I'm kind of a shy guy, so I don't really go out that much. I'm not that good at dating. The money I save from getting drunk in bars and discos I spend on a beautiful woman, once a month."

"But you are so cute! Women must adore you."

"It's really not my thing. After my divorce I've spent most of my time on my boat, fixing it up and sailing with my little boy..."

"You have a son!" I called out surprised, not expecting that kind of responsibility from such a boyish looking man who seemed no older than some twenty-eight years, "How old is your son?"

"He's only six, but he took the separation well and his mother and I are still good friends."

"That's good to hear. But I can still see you traveling the world in your boat."

His face lit up and an adventurous sparkle appeared in his eyes. "Your sense of adventure and traveling certainly are an inspiration to me."

I looked at him with gratefulness. "Thank you. That is a beautiful compliment. I hope to be an inspiration to many more people."

"I know you will. There is something special about you."

With the tips of his fingers he softly started to massage the skin of my inner thighs.

"Maria, will you allow me to kiss you between your legs?" he asked a little hesitantly.

"I would love that Hugo."

His warm tongue slowly started to circle towards my pink lips that were meticulously shaved and groomed, only leaving a small strip of reddish pubic hair. Now his mouth was completely covering my pussy, gently licking and sucking the soft flesh, his beautiful hands grabbing my hips, slowly pulling my body towards his face. His exquisite rhythmic stimulation deepened my breath. My lips swelled up and my juices started to flow from this delightful pleasure.

"You taste so good," he whispered. He looked up at me with a blissful smile on his face, his lips and his chin glistening from my wetness.

"I want to taste for myself," I spoke softly. I pulled his face towards mine and started to tenderly lick his lips, enjoying the sweet milky taste of myself. He opened his mouth and his tongue found mine and we kissed sensually, my fingers running through his thick curls. Suddenly he pulled himself away.

"I wasn't finished yet," he murmured. Again he buried his face between my legs and he continued to bring me the most delicious sensations until I finally climaxed with a long and loud cry.

I looked up at him. "Oh my God, that was heaven!"

He seemed delighted. "You are heaven, Maria. You feel like an angel."

I looked at his buttoned up shirt and pants.

"We'll get to that in a moment. First I want to hear more about your spiritual work. You want another glass of mint tea?"

"Oh please, I'm parched from that dope of yours."

"I know, but it intensifies the senses with love making."

"Oh, I couldn't agree more," I laughed, thinking of my passionately loud orgasm that surely must have reached the neighbors, with all the windows open on this exceptionally warm summer evening.

He returned from the kitchen with two glasses and sat down next to me on the comfortable sofa. "Tell me about your spiritual ceremonies. I'm intrigued."

"What do you want to know?" I asked.

"Everything, I want to know everything."

"That's too much, but I'll give it a try. Let me see, where do I start. Well, my father had a lot of spiritual books and books on shamanism and I was always fascinated with these subjects. Do you know Carlos Castaneda?"

"Who isn't familiar with his books?"

"Exactly. So, for many years I moved in the house scene, and I used quite a bit of Ecstasy. To me those dance nights and raves felt like a tribal heart opening. In that period, I also used mushrooms once in a while and I must admit they provided me with the most mystical experiences I ever had."

"I only used mushrooms once and I agree, it completely changed my view on life and God," he professed.

"I'm not surprised. It usually has the same mystical effect on everybody. With the exception of those naïve idiots who don't prepare themselves by creating the proper setting and end up having the so-called bad trips. But anyway, another word they use for psychoactive plants like mushrooms or peyote is entheogens. The literal translation for that word is 'that which causes God to be within an individual'. Well, of course God is already inside us, but those sacred plants allow us to perceive and experience that divinity. It's like seeing yourself as a computer with a limited amount of software, like only Word and Excel. With this new software, the psychedelics, we suddenly have access to a whole new reality, like Photoshop for example. Are you following me?"

"I'm all ears."

"The use of Sacred Plants, as I prefer to call them, has a very long history that dates back thousands and thousands of years and were and still are an important part of the spiritual traditions of many cultures, both ancient and modern. To me, the ceremonial use of those plants create doorways to realities that I find more real that the one we find ourselves in right now."

"You mean different dimensions?"

"Yes, precisely. But not only that, it creates a reverence for Mother Nature and for our beautiful planet Gaia. It shows the divinity in everything around us and mostly it shows the divinity in ourselves. We are all Gods and Goddesses!"

"No wonder I perceive you as an angel. How come you know so much about all of this?"

"Ha! I haven't even started yet. Do you want me to continue?"

"Just a little bit. I have some other divine things in mind," he said with an unusual naughty look in his eyes.

"So, I started reading more about this subject and I discovered that there is a certain plant that is considered the most potent of all psycho active plants, you could say the grandmother of all Sacred Plants. Actually, it's a kind of tea that consist of two different plants and it's called Ayahuasca or Yage."

"Yes, I think I read something about it. It's from the Amazon right?"

"Indeed. So, now you know why I traveled to Brazil."

"I can't wait to hear more about your Brazil adventure. I can clearly see you among the indigenous tribes of the Amazon dancing naked under the full moon as a jungle goddess, but now we're traveling to my bedroom for another kind of dance."

He romantically picked me up from the sofa, carried me to the large mattress and carefully laid me down. He quickly removed his clothes, uncovering a perfect lean body with a beautiful half erect penis. Too late, I realized my purse with the condoms in it was still in the living room, but I didn't care. He was so nice, so sweet and so sexy in his timid way. Again he started kissing me deliciously with his sensual lips. I felt the softness of his skin against mine, his beautiful hands covering every bit of my body and finally I felt his gorgeous hardness entering me. We melted into a frenzy of pleasure, our heavy breathing intermingled with little cries of ecstasy, and finally, with a subtle shudder of his body, a delicate moan escaped from his lips. For a moment he collapsed on top of me.

When he pulled himself from me I noticed he held a condom in his hand that he was just tightening up. Impressive. I hadn't even noticed.

_' He thought you were fantastic! He really enjoyed you. Congratulations.'_ showed the text on the display that Esther had sent me on my cell phone. Raymond had just started the ride home.

'He was delicious!' I wrote back.

I felt exhausted from my first night as a modern courtesan. Exhausted, but deeply satisfied. I felt proud of myself. Very proud.

Book 3: The Queen's Destiny https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/Liebe

Through an unexpected sequence of events Paula Liebe meets her childhood sweetheart. He follows her to Mexico and the magical wonders of the Mayan world where she introduces him to a life filled with yoga, spirituality and true love. Together they discover that they have an undeniable connection to the mysterious legend of the crystal skulls. They also share a passionate belief in ancient civilizations like Atlantis, in extra-terrestrials, and in the predicted transformation of Mother Earth into a New Earth by the date of the 21st of December 2012.

With a raw, sexy and humorous style Paula Liebe describes her life that reads like a sensual, spiritual and adventurous novel, but is in fact a true story.

**Connect with me online:**

Email: thequeenstrilogy@gmail.com

Twitter: https://twitter.com/PaulaLiebe

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/paula.liebe.3

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/Liebe
