It has been said for years that Yelapa is one of the vortexes on the planet, as are Mt. Shasta, Sedona, Stonehenge, and many other places that have a mysterious and powerful energy. The center of the vortex here is said to be is at the mouth of the Rio Tuito which opens into Yelapa’s bay.
Casa America, the house in which I live, faces the vortex.
All I can tell you for sure is that Yelapa is a place that magnifies energies. It brings up what is buried in the shadows of the subconscious and casts bright tropical sunshine upon it. If you don’t come here with some peace in your heart and mind, it can be difficult to find.
After years of working my ass off and not having much social life, living a solitary existence with rather few fun activities, living here I feel like a starving person staring at an overloaded banquet table, so overwhelmed I hardly know how to begin.
Take the last three days’ events as an example; a benefit wine tasting and auction for an old friend who is very ill, scrabble with girlfriends, breakfasts with boyfriend, dinners with more friends, jam and singing session at El Cerrito, croquet practice (my girlfriends here are encouraging me to play in this year’s tournament, in the Sweetheart round – more on that later), dancing at the Yacht Club, and today Super Bowl parties at two different places upriver – Passion Flower Gardens and El Manguito.
Wow, I just can’t keep this up! Twenty years ago maybe. And I’m not resting up as much between activities, because there’s this other person in my life now. If I’m going to get through this high season with any peace of mind left, I need to stay more focused on what I’m trying to accomplish here. It can’t all be fun and parties, I’ve got work to do. My sister copied the old chapters of the book I started in the 90’s, and she’s mailing them to a friend who arrives in a week. I hope to start working on it again soon.
Next week I have to go into Vallarta for two days, one day of work, the other errands – get money from the ATM, pay phone bill, return locks that weren’t right, get supplies, a haircut and a pedicure.
Also next week the Croquet Tournament begins, four days of play and nights of parties, culminating in the costume ball. This is the 27th annual, I believe, always the high point of the season here. I’ve noticed a big increase in the number of passengers on the pangas arriving, and the energy level in the village is increasing daily.
I haven’t played in the croquet tournament for 25 years, and despite the fact that all the players say it’s just for fun, doesn’t matter how bad you are, I know better. These people wear whites and play British rules, and give silver plates as trophies. They absolutely do care, and I’m not about to embarrass myself by playing this year, when I’ve not had time to practice. The good news is, “He” is going to play the sweethearts round with his daughter who arrives this week. Lovely! I’m off the hook for that!
I will attend as many of the events as I can without burning myself out completely. Camera in hand, I’ll make an concerted effort to report on the festivities. (Still don’t have a costume for the ball though, and that’s worrisome.)
So your intrepid reporter is over and out, heading over to Rita’s to dye her and my roots, then off to the Super Bowl parties. The mind reels!