Sayulita is the gift of presence.
She is the hearth of the feminine.
She whispers in the language of body, heart, and soul.
I feel a belonging here. A life force energy.
It pulses in her natural beauty, in the people and community, in her small, but mighty size.
There are no big-box stores.
There are only dirt roads and cobblestoned streets.
Thick jungle, hidden beaches,
and everyone has a name.
From the vendors to the waiters, to the grocers and the music makers, they are always the same.
What a treat to live somewhere so small, you can walk from one side to the other in thirty minutes. What a treat to live somewhere where everyone knows everyone; where you can walk downtown in your pajamas for a vegan, gluten free chocolate mousse and have five different conversations in English and Spanish.
I am nurtured by this place; by these people.
The Friday Market.
Saturday morning sound healing.
A bustling plaza.
Surfers and street performers.
Cute cafés.
Cocos fríos.
Tacos and Chiles rellenos.
And the playa.
Mother Earth herself.
The sun that always shines and sets, sinking into the sea; the masterpiece of every morning and early evening.
There is no rushing. No hurrying. No need to get anywhere.
Just the necessity to be here, with and of, this moment.
Copyright © 2022 Kayla MacArthur