Soulful Travel: Mexico Pt 4 - Trouble in Paradise

Yesterday, I came across this Instagram post that made me laugh like a good witch.

Anyone close to me knows I often talk about retreating to the woods of Western North Carolina. See, here’s the thing—I’m not always the positive, high-energy person people assume. Sometimes, I need to escape from humans and their chaotic energies to recharge my senses.

The calling I feel to promote goodness isn’t about ignoring the bad things, but rather a counterbalance to the weight of darkness I feel in the world. As a highly sensitive person, it’s a matter of survival—like a candle in the dark, and the many candles we must light to find our way.

Maybe it was watching my blind grandfather reach out to feel the world and how he developed other super senses that inspired me to want X-ray vision—to see beyond the surface and straight into the energy that connects us all. On this trip to Mexico, that energy was swirling in ways I didn’t see coming, but sort of did.

What started as an adventure quickly turned into a whirlwind of good trouble, human drama, and one situation that left us all wondering how we’d make it out. (Cue spooky music.)

THE TROUBLE BEGINS...

It all started pretty smoothly in our Mexico Series (catch up here), but like any good adventure, things rarely stay smooth for long, right? And there are no heroes without challenges. Usually, my travels are pretty trouble-free—except for those five trips to Cuba, where just thinking about brushing up against political oppression still makes my palms sweat.

But on this trip to Mexico, my parents—and my aunt—kept reminding me of one thing: “BE CAREFUL.” Every phone call was loaded with the same warnings: “ARE YOU AWARE OF...” and “IN THE NEWS…”

There are indeed cartels and kidnappings in Mexico, and like anywhere in the world, you need to research and exercise caution (we’ll dive deeper into this in the next post: How to Plan a Soulful Adventure). But my research showed the risks weren’t as typical in central to southern Mexico. Still, does hearing warnings repeated over and over have an effect on us? Can thoughts swirling in our heads attract certain experiences?

During this trip, I encountered three types of trouble:

• Good trouble
• Human troubles
• (Sort of) bad trouble

GOOD TROUBLE

Her name was Lola. Nah, just kidding. She’s the Nuvo Chica I promised in Post 2 was worth waiting for!

Us ladies who road-tripped together finally arrived in Mazunte on the Oaxacan coast. As we sat in a pop-up food hut, a wild beauty strolled up—a tall, tattooed woman named Erandi, who had just hopped off a motorcycle. Her inked skin gave her an edgy appearance, but that was quickly overshadowed by the light of her bold, radiant smile.

Erandi, I quickly learned, had the life to back up her swagger. Raised in the tough, eastern periphery of Mexico City, where danger is all too real, she recalled how one day her mom, fed up with the gunshots, asked her to call the cops. A quick online search revealed that even the police had just been assaulted in their own neighborhood. Erandi eventually moved away, escaping the dangers of constant femicide, kidnappings, and gender-based violence.

Living face-to-face with real danger, she says, actually makes you feel more viva (alive)—and she radiates that aliveness, awareness, and vibrancy. Being around real trouble feels like it supercharged an authentic #BadassGoodness within her.

After studying Industrial Design at Universidad Nacional Autónoma de México, curating a museum, and globetrotting in search of opportunities, she landed in Mazunte on the Oaxacan coast, determined to craft a better future.

Up at sunrise and always on the move, hopping on and off her bike, nothing seems beyond her talents or perseverance. Upon arriving, she started tattooing, building furniture, and painting interior design murals. When the community needed eggs, she bought a piece of land and started raising chickens. When a hurricane hit, she offered to fix up Airbnbs, which she still manages today—all while pursuing her true love: creating a beachside gallery at the entrance of an epic beach cove. Just yesterday, she was installing bamboo for it.

We share something in common, it seems—we both laugh often while we speak, like we share an unspoken secret among mujeronas, as she puts it. Just today, I felt that blend of strength, sweetness, and badassery all rolled into one as she painted and talked over the phone. She said:

"I’ve traveled the world, seeing the best galleries and museums. This world is a bit elitist, and there’s a debate about whether art is for everyone. My vision is to provide a space for expression for anyone who wants it, because it's part of being human... a characteristic that distinguishes us; that need for expression."

PARADISE

Like any good scary film or adventure gone wrong, it always starts with a picturesque scene. After meeting Erandi, she led us up a rough, washed-out road, still muddy from recent heavy rains. One of the girls, determined, gunned her car up the steep dirt path, parts of it completely eroded. After what felt like an epic journey, we finally arrived in paradise—one of Erandi's creations, a breathtaking blend of Butterfly Castle and Jungle Book hacienda.

In this coming week, we'll reveal this incredible Airbnb, but back to the story!

HUMAN TROUBLES

Flashing back for a moment: After many hours of flights, hosting others, and being stuck in a car, anyone would go stir-crazy. Nuvo Chicas aren’t superhuman—we fall to the same perils as any human. One of my friends’ battery pack—aka her energy—was running low. Her almost-dead alert? What I call “skunking up the air”—curt words, annoyed body language, and what seemed like a disregard for others' feelings. It wasn’t intentional, but like a gas leak, it slowly fills the room until, if you’re not careful, everyone turns into crazed zombies.

Another friend took this energy drain personally, apparently building up resentment, and before I knew it, sharp words were exchanged. I was up ahead, walking to the beach, when I sensed the wave of trouble brewing. I learned later that a few of those words hit hard, striking another's emotional core, and I could feel the energy ricocheting from a distance. Then one of them called out, trying to pull me into the mess. “Who, me?” I asked, trying to avoid the figurative arrow headed my way. “I’m just looking for beach towels,” I said, quickening my escape.

Moments later, one of them pulled me aside, insisting I engage. I made the mistake of slightly giving in. I tried to nurture some light mutual awareness, but it backfired... and the truth is, I knew better.

I know this, but I too was almost swept up in the wave of discomfort. My attempt at gently nudging my truth was met by a cold stare and flippant goodbye. I was now the next victim in the pull of this undercurrent. I marched off in disbelief, "please, don't do this to me now," I thought. But I again, I know better - people rarely have the power to do anything to us, we do it. We simply have to change the track we allow to play in our mind. When in truth others actions are rarely truyly about us. So after letting out my exasperation, I took a swim. The rushing waves emerging from the mouth of the cove hit me like a good knock to the spirit.

So after letting out my exasperation, I took a swim. The rushing waves emerging from the mouth of the cove hit me like a good knock to the spirit.

With renewed energy, I returned to my friend, threw my arms around her, and hoped to translate the greater perspective the ocean had provided me.

We all grabbed dinner and drank three types of Mezcal, each offering a different kind of wisdom, as the Reyes Lopez family had alluded to in Post 3.

I thought the trouble was over. Think again.

Sleeping in a Butterfly Castle meets Jungle Book open-air concept is a dream, but I was grateful to have brought my mini camping fan to keep the heat at bay. My first blink of the morning met glints of sunlight coloring the clouds magenta. It was stunning, and after a few gasping breaths of awe, I collapsed back into sleep. That is, until the rising heat from the sun forced us all out of bed like we were being cooked in a pan.

We moved upstairs, where the shade was more effective, and from there, the view felt like we were in Tarzan's treehouse. We enjoyed a delicious meal prepared by my friend, but it wasn’t long before I realized the human troubles were still brewing.

One friend ignored the other, and tension lingered in the air. Soon enough, sparks began to fly, and trouble crept into our sight of paradise.

I missed the initial spark, but soon it became clear that things had escalated. One friend was clearly upset, and before long, I was pulled into the fray. "Take a stand! Pick a side!" she demanded, as if our peaceful breakfast had turned into a courtroom, and neutrality was a crime.

It felt like being forced into one of those endless, unwinnable arguments—politics, religion, or any hot topic that insists on dividing us. Somehow, staying neutral wasn’t allowed. I was being elbowed, teased for being “too positive,” like it was a flaw.

I took a deep breath and tried to explain why Switzerland isn’t the absence of caring, but rather an invitation not to let little things become big things.

At first, my words were met with resistance. The tension was still high, and it seemed like nothing I said would diffuse the situation. But I pressed on, asking questions and listening carefully, trying to help them see beyond the immediate conflict and into the deeper layers of what was really going on.

Eventually, the sharp edges of the confrontation started to soften. As we dug deeper, it became clear that the argument wasn’t about what had been said—it was about deeper wounds. Whether someone was abandoned, taken advantage of, or felt like you were never good enough (I'm raising my hand on this one, and the irony is not lost on me), tender wounds had been touched.

Each friend had their "aha" moment of recognition, realizing that the source of their pain wasn’t really the other person. In that moment, I could have tried to wrap things up neatly, but I knew better. People need space to work things out on their own, so I stepped away, allowing them to resolve things in their own way. After their apologies, they each followed their instincts on how to best regain their energy—one went to the mountains to recharge, while the other stayed behind to rest and restore.

With both of them finding their own space, I finally had a moment to breathe. The calm after the storm settled in, and a sense of relief washed over me. Often, situations have deeper roots than we recognize at first glance, and sometimes, the best way to navigate emotional currents is to let people find their own path.

This aligns perfectly with the Freequency system I’ve been developing for years. It teaches us to recognize what energy we need when—whether it’s time to rev up our engines, like exploring nature, or to downshift, giving ourselves time to rest and restore. In that moment, for me, it was all about flowing like water.

I may have flowed in this moment, but there have been plenty of times when I’ve been the one fleeing or retreating. Yet, the more work we do to understand energy, the more naturally we can pull the levers of our being and navigate through storms—preferably blind and all-seeing, like practicing tai chi with energy.

If you're interested in learning how to practice "energetic tai chi" and would like to sign up for announcements about future workshops, feel free to write to: info@vikara.agency

BAD TROUBLE

TO BE CONT'D.... (Sorry mom!)

Here’s a Halloween-inspired teaser:

In the next post, you’ll find out whether I headed left or right. But before we get there, and in the spirit of the season, things are about to take a darker turn. Think bandits, a missing car tag, cartel threats, and not knowing which way to turn. Find out the creepy truth… Get ready for Bad Trouble—because sometimes the scariest stories aren’t just for Halloween.

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