The Gift 💝 A lesson in generosity from Pachamama

 dāna (दान) pronounced “daa-nuh” in Pali/Sanskrit means generosity

May I receive with a grateful heart

May I give from the abundance of love

Enter Pachamama – Guanacaste Province, Costa Rica

Pura Vida! Another gringo chirps as I enter the land of howling monkeys and love magicians.

My spirit tingles with excitement, but I can feel my heart protectors squeeze. There’s a different kind of energy fuel here. The rental car salesman doesn’t hustle me for more money. Roadsigns read “Breathe. Slow down.” Hmm.. I’m steadily embracing a genuine presence that makes my heart roar and my protectors squirrely. The land is rich earthy jungle beauty that makes me want to nestle in the comfort of her bosom.

Pachamama translates to Mother Earth. Many indigenous cultures view natural elements as having a spirit essence (ie who is that rock, instead of what is that rock) and as soon as I step into PachaMama Ecovillage I feel the live primal pulse of Mama Gaia. There’s a lesson she wants to teach me.. In 1999 an off-the-grid spiritual community reforested this cattle land, grew a collective garden and created a sustainable village for conscious coliving that is not unlike somewhere I’d like to retire.

It’s my 33rd birthday, and I’m rolling around the sands of San Juanillo beach like a single savage hippy lady finding sea shells that make me absolutely giddy with the joy of abundance. A thought quickly enters that I should keep this one particularly perfect shell forever, then I decide I must give it away. None of this is mine, Pachamama reminds me, and yet here it all is for me to enjoy.

Slow Down. Breathe. Remember the Pecan Trees.

Every solo-cation must include some flavor of deep spiritual work, right? So I soon enter the gauntlet of Clarity Breathwork – cellular memory, ancestral trauma, rebirthing, you know, kid stuff. And as I’m here, minding my own business, trauma-processing, releasing ancient fear, and this persnickety little ‘I’m bad’ belief, the most unlikely (or likely) miracle happens.

In the jowls of my demons, my heart completely breaks open to bodichitta – the awakened heart-mind. I’m in love with everything in and around me and can feel at the very same time that it’s all in love with me too. The illussion of separation gives way to the ultimate truth of oneness – I feel fully present with an open heart whilst also completely free of craving and aversion. It’s as if the tap is now open and a boundless abundance of love can not stop flowing. A funny local magician meets my gaze and reflects: “Love is never transactional, always abundantly here. And if ever lost or forgotten, just look up at the trees and let Pachamama remind you the way.”

At this time I’m reading the peculiar (or not so peculiar) story of pecan trees in the novel Braiding Sweetgrass. Kimmerer, a botanist, explains the scientific phenomenon of “mast fruiting,” where all the pecan trees in a wide region fruit at the exact same time, feeding a multitude of species and ensuring their continued life cycle. It reminds me of Pachamama’s most powerful life giving and sustaining energy – generosity.

Sing your heart out, babe.

It’s the last night of my time here – and it’s Shiva Night! Shiva, a principle Hindu diety, symbol of destruction, transformation and creation! It’s a night where everyone is encouraged to share their natural creative gifts with each other.

I’ve always loved singing. Growing up in Nashville—the country music capital—this was admittedly a bit taboo, and singing Come On Over by Christina Aguilera to a wide-eyed conservative crowd during my 3rd-grade talent show shrank me with shame straight into my throat chakra. Third-grade Dre vowed never to sing publicly again… until now. I belt Hold my Hand by Nessi Gomes a cappella with harmonica acompaniment and the freedom of my heart reverberates in sound for all of Pachamama to hear.

Moral of the story: Notice all the gifts so generously given, and share yours back. Share yourself and your gifts. Share vulnerably and generously of your heart without attachment to any outcome and let the energy of life pour in. Because the act of generosity itself is the magic.