Embodying impermanence

Life has been intense lately. We are harvesting the first fruits of a dream-seed planted long ago. From boat to boat, we hop. From cold to warm, we switch. With a backpack that serves as home, we travel the great home called Earth, finding shelter within the most important home we actually have: our hearts.

Amid constant movement, we find ourselves embodying one of the laws of the universe: impermanence, which triggers fears and, therefore, teaches us how to keep love as the North Star.

This brief text was written as a lucid harvest of the main treasures found in past and present experiences: crossing the Atlantic, navigating the sacred waters of the Nile in Egypt, walking the desert dunes, swimming in a salt lake that millions of years ago was the sea, sailing and facilitating in Iceland and preparing for our Piratas do Amor Expeditions in Norway.

Feel the read.

With love,

Raíssa

∞

Last days aboard Grayhound, arriving in the festival in Passaia, Spain, after crossing the Atlantic

EMBODYING IMPERMANENCE

From the surface of the sea to the bottom of the sea.

From liquid desert to dry ocean.

From extreme heat to snowstorm.

Sailing and flying.

Up and down.

We meditated pulling ropes on a ship or sitting still inside a pyramid.

We sailed in the darkness of the Atlantic Ocean or contemplated the eternal light of the Arctic summer.

Extremes meet when we dance together with nature.

There is no separation.

Beyond time and space, opposites can remember to play in the same orchestra of life.

It's time for a reunion.

That's my prayer.

Desert dunes in May and Arctic sea in June

Jumping in the 4˚C water to swim around whales, or floating in the extra salty lake in the 45˚C Oasis of Siwa, where it used to be the bottom of the sea millions of years ago

I witness constant transformation inside and out.

How can I dare to attach to something that is gone?

How can I dare to attach to something that hasn't happened yet?

It makes sense to let go of what makes no sense.

I want to travel light.

There is no space in the ship's compartment. There is no space in myself for more distractions.

If I am stuck in the mind and the wind blows hard, I fall.

Better to return to the now.

The present calls me.

The present is constantly training me.

A training of observation:

What is real? What is illusion?

The sacred Pyramid and the landmark for the the Arctic Circle

Through sailing and traveling, drinking the medicine of the sea, surrendering myself to the elements, I have been activating both the body and the soul, the mind and the heart.

Movement is what surrounds me. ALL THE TIME.

Movement is what fills me.

Movement is what reminds me to accept impermanence entirely, reaching stability within myself.

Is there anything more stable than my own center?

An anchor that I can call mine.

A place within where I know how to return to.

Sailing Schooner Hildur in Iceland together with Ocean Missions

So much movement is my school for not falling apart during chaos.

A school for not staying adrift.

For being earth while all I see is water.

The only constant is truly change. And if the underlying fear of all is of the unknown, the North Star of the wanderer must be love.

I don't know what is next. I have learned to not expect exactly what I envision, but to keep the vision alive and watch it change.

Because the next step is revealed to those who walk with presence.

Contemplating the Icelandic magic during The Hope Expedition

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