My Escape

I am taking the plunge. No turning back.

Yet, I must carefully orchestrate my escape. This is my survival mechanism kicking in…I MUST do this! I always said, if I won the lotto, I’d do this. Well, this decision is not conditional on a plausible outcome; I will make it happen!

I must cover my ass here, as well as there. I will have to save money, as well as start living frugally, if the plan is to leave the States for six months to a year.

This time around, I will contact Ocampo, before I go there. I must convince him, he’s got to tutor me. I am worthy, and I simply adore his work. I will strive to become really meek and humble. I will offer to be his assistant, cook - perhaps shine his shoes? I must conquer and keep under lock my draconian temper, and willful pride.

I attempted to reach Ocampo a few years ago. I traveled to the fabled magical mountain in the town of Tepoztlan, where I read he lives. He must keep a low profile, for I could not find him. Yet the trip was not a total loss. I risked my life trekking up the mountain to reach the Tepozteco Pyramid on top. During my ascent, my fear of heights, almost temporarily did me in. There was a narrow passage in the highest peak; where I seriously doubted that I could go on. I was paralyzed by fear, yet I could not turn back. While the single line of people behind me on the narrow passage was stalled thanks to me, In front of me, I could see kind, multiple arms reaching out to me; those willing to help me up that particular treacherous hurdle. The moment seemed surreal - eternal. I replayed in my mind excerpt of the children's book about the little train engine that could: "I think I can...I think I can..." was my mantra.

Let’s just say, my arrival at the summit was indecorous; I was literally pulled/dragged there. I even enjoyed a moment of fame, as several people recognized me as the woman who stalled the line. My scraped knees were glaring testament of my shame.

Four hours later, I touched leveled ground again. Using a narrow tree trunk for support, I limped, weak-kneed, utterly exhausted, to the nearest make-shift cantina. I ordered a very well deserved peach margarita, with double shots of tequila. That was the best tasting, ice cold drink of my entire life!

I still have the tree trunk perched on my altar at home, a piece of a place fabled to be magical. It is also a symbol of my struggle up the Tepozteco, as well as my argument with flight crew and customs agents they must not -- could not -- take it away from me.

It's local lengend there, that once you visit the Tepozteco, one will return some day again. I think I can...