Huellas Doradas

Punta del Diablo, Uruguay

My mind hit the ground running picking up its rant from the night before, throwing me on the pendulous seesaw of indecision as soon as I woke up.

It was oscillating with quite the amount of harsh brunt force for so early in the morning, especially for not being caffeinated.

My thoughts teetered toward one decision, locked and loaded with logic. But, just as I settled into this choice, I was launched with abrupt curtness to the opposite side of the argument, which was equally armed with sensible rationale.

It was a continuation of the war I had not-so-silently been waging in my mind between choosing to move forward with my plans to go to Uruguay or stay in Buenos Aires. I had almost overstayed my legal allowance of time in Argentina and my weekend plan to go to Uruguay was threatened by the lingering presence of covid in my body, despite having recovered from the virus a month ago.

I was facing a big unknown regarding whether or not I’d be allowed to cross the border. Despite reading that I could enter into Uruguay by showing a positive covid test from the past 90 days, I lacked faith in the politics of the world, particularly in that of South America. The rules of the pandemic are volatile and transient and, what’s more, is that I had already been denied entry into Argentina once in my life because of some silly little paper that I didn’t have.

I held onto this failed attempt to enter into Argentina as proof that the odds were stacked against me. Plus, I mean, how good really were my reading and comprehension skills? Did I really trust my ability to read the rules and regulations of plain English?

As heavy and imposing as my cynicism was, there was a stronger force rising to the surface.

Faith.

While I knew there was much to consider, I felt that there was nothing to worry about. All I needed was a firm decision and the tenacity to move forward. All I needed was to choose to have faith that it would all work out, regardless of the outcome.

I recognized that my fear was a lack of faith in my ability to navigate the challenges that life, more often than not, presents to me. That fear fueled the logic behind the option to play it safe.

It told me that I shouldn’t try. It was intent on convincing me that I should stay in a city that I already knew. It said, “just stay home where nothing bad can happen.” The thought was like a local at the neighborhood bar: obnoxious and constantly present despite being unwanted by all. It was a noble effort to keep me safe from the threat of the unknown, but I was finally concluding that I didn’t need its so-called protection.

I faced keeping myself safe with the known vs. challenging myself to grow as I stepped into the unknown.

The words from a golden pillar that I live by comes to me :

Don’t keep life too safe

For it is in doing so that we put ourselves in danger.

Of monotony. Of staleness. Of dampening the vibrancy of the world. Of existing as opposed to really living.

It’s in keeping life too safe that I close myself off from the wonders of the world.

This is how I hopped out of the hellish purgatory of indecision.

And into the wild flow of possibilities.

As a reward I arrive to Punta del Diablo, my ‘final’ destination, just in very time for the rising of the sun.

Just in time.